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carnationworld-writings · 4 years ago

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You will always be my endlesslove (Caspian x fem!reader)

MASTERLIST

Paring: Prince Caspian x fem!reader

Universe: The Chronicles of Narnia

Word Count: 1857

Warnings: mention about the possibility of death on the sea and women's rights typical for middle age (or poor try to show it.)

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your wellbeing is important to me!

Summary: The one where Caspian need to do one more thing before his next journey.

Y/N sat in the garden with a few ladies from court, mindlessly watching how they played cards. Long forgotten knitting was on her laps, but she couldn’t concentrate on it. The only things in her mind were Caspian and his future voyage on the Dawn Treader. She was worried about him. She perfectly knew that sailoring wasn’t the safest, even if he had the best men in his crew. She sighed quietly and closed her eyes, turning face to the sun. She didn’t know how long she sat like that, thinking about the young king, when she heard footsteps on the gravel path behind her. Then she heard her best friend gasping and quickly getting up from her chair. Y/N and the rest of the ladies looked at the way from where their guest came. At the sight of the king of Narnia, they also stood up and bowed deeply before him.

“Your Majesty!” The oldest duchess in their group stood up first, welcoming the king with a warm smile. After many talks with her, Y/N knew that Caspian remained her late son, which she lost in one of the Telmaries wars.

“Good morning, ladies! I see that you’re using that nice weather.” He smiled at her, and then his eyes moved over each woman there, stopping a little longer at Y/N.

“Yes, my king. It’s good for these girls to take some sun and fresh air. Maybe you could join us?”

“Indeed, it’s good for all of us, dear duchess. Actually, I was wondering if I could steal Lady Y/N from you for a moment.”

“Of course, your majesty.”

Y/N looked at Caspian’s face and found that his lips formed at this beautiful smile that made her heart beat a little faster. She nodded slightly and put her knitting in her chair. Caspian said his goodbyes to the rest of the ladies, and when Y/N reached him, they started walking down the path. She already could tell how tensed his arms were under his jacket.

“My king… Caspian, is everything alright?” She carefully watched his face, wanting to see any emotion.

“Yes, I just… Carpenters ended up repairing the Dawn Treader, and I hoped that you could go with me to see it.” He looked at Y/N and hid his hands behind his backs.

“I’ll be honoured.”

When she smiled at him, Caspian felt like he could breathe again. He held his arm out towards her, and she took it with a shy smile. They slowly went to the carriage, which took them to the seaport. All the way there, they talked about everything that happened lately in Narnia and about his upcoming journey. When they reached their destination, Caspian helped her come out from the carriage. He looked at her face when she squeezed his hand slightly and smiled fondly. She already looked at The Dawn Treader and became speechless. Her lips fell open, and her eyes widened. It was Caspian’s soft laugh that brought her to reality. She looked at him, realizing that she still held his hand tightly, which made her feel heat on her face.

“Caspian… This ship looks wonderful!” He smiled and placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand before he put it delicately on his arm.

“Wait until you see how it looks inside.”

Looking around, they came to the gangplank of the ship. Carefully, Caspian helped Y/N come to the desk, where his crew welcomed them. With a bright smile, Y/N watched how Caspian stopped to speak with every man on the ship. She knew that most of them served on The Dawn Treader from Caspian’s first cruise. She was sure that it made their relationship something more than the king and his subjects. Things they experienced together at sea connected them with a strong bond that only they could understand. After standing there for some time, Y/N felt her body shivered at the feel of the cold breeze. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms to warm up. She cursed herself that she didn’t take her shawl. At this moment, Caspian looked at her and smiled softly. He excused himself and came closer, delicately putting a hand on the small of her backs. When her eyes moved at his face and her lips curved into a tender smile, Caspian couldn’t stop looking at them. He courted her for a few months already, and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. The sight of her soft lips made him want to kiss her until they ran out of breath. They already shared a few kisses when they knew that nobody would see them. They were shy and insecure, but he knew that it became his favourite thing to do. He wanted to hold her in his arms for the rest of the time and lost himself in her.

“Y/N, there is something more that I wanted to show you.”

“So, lead the way, my king.”

With smiles, they walked to the king’s cabin. He opened doors before her and watched her face when she looked at paintings on The Kings and Queens of Old. She stood before the gold image of Aslan and touched it lightly. He watched how she slouched gently, and when he looked at her eyes, he discovered that they were full of tears. He rushed to her side, taking her hand in his.

“Y/N, my love, what’s wrong?” Caspian said quietly, gently rubbing the back of her hand.

“I’m… I’m just so worried about you. What if something will go wrong on your voyage? What if? What if you won’t come back to me?” She whispered, looking at Caspian. “You’re so dear to my heart, and I can’t lose you.”

“And you won’t lose me, my love. I’ll do everything in my power to come back to you. And every day, I will be begging Aslan to help me with my task and let me come back to you safe and as soon as possible. You own my heart, Y/N, and I promise you to come back.”

Caspian gently wiped tears from her cheeks and softly smiled when she threw herself in his arms. He kissed the top of her head and started caressing her back and moving to his sides. He waited for her to calm down, taking this time to inhale her sweet smell. He smiled at her when she stepped back but still stayed between his arms.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have reacted like this.”

“There is nothing that you need apologies for, my love! You have all rights to react like this. Sailing is not always safe, and I’m leaving when we are courting. But I will come back.”

Y/N rose on her toes and connected their lips. To steady herself, she put her hand on his strong arm and tightened her grip slightly when he pulled her closer to him.

“Y/N… I wanted you to come here with me because I wanted to ask you something.” Caspian whispered in her lips, slowly taking one of his hands off her body and snacking it to his jacket pocket. She watched his face closely, and Caspian felt his cheeks becoming red. “In the morning, I had prepared a speech, but I can’t remember what I wanted to tell you. I know one thing for sure. I can’t imagine my life without you by my side. I want to spend the rest of this life with you, to love you and cherish you to my last breath.” Caspian felt his heart pounding in his chest, but he smiled, seeing Y/N’s eyes full of love. “I want you to become my queen, who will rule next to me. I want to be the person who will make you laugh every day. I promise to be for you in everything and to do everything to make you happy. And I promise to always come back to you from every journey. For these few months, you became my haven, where I’m longing to be. You are the one I think about before I fall asleep, and later I meet you in my dreams.” His throat tightened from emotion, watching tears running on her cheeks, but because of her bright smile, he knew that she was happy. “Y/N, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?”

“Yes! A thousand times, yes!” She said between her happy laughs. Feeling like he could breathe again, Caspian grinned and kissed her passionately. She took his face in her hands, gently caressing his cheeks. “What about my father, Caspian?”

“I already talked with him. He agreed, but only if you would say yes. And we decided that everything from your dowry will always be only yours or our kids if you will decide to give it to them.” He smiled at her, seeing her eyes went bigger. “I’m not planning to marry you for money or lands. I’m marrying you because of you and the love I feel.”

“Thank you, Cas.” She whispered, kissing his lips again and then looking in his eyes.

“My dear, don’t thank me for that. I bought a ring for you. But if you don’t like it, we can choose something different.” Caspian opened his hand and showed her gold ring with sapphire. She gasped and looked at her betrothed.

“It’s beautiful!”

Caspian gently took his hand and lifted it to his lips to put a kiss on its back. He slowly put a ring on her finger and kissed it. She laughed happily, wiping her tears with her other hand. When he looked in her eyes, she delicately put her hand on his cheek and rubbed it lovingly. She attracted him and connected their lips. He held her hips, bringing her closer to him and then lifting her from the ground, making her squeak in his lips. However, she didn’t end the kiss. She snuck her arms around his nape, feeling how her heart pounded in her chest. The only thing she could think was the warm of his body against her and how safe it made her feel. His lips were surprisingly soft against hers, and they found perfect synchrony. Caspian felt like he was holding his whole world in his arms, and his head could get dizzy because of that. He could only focus on the softness of her skin under his fingers, her subtle lavender scent and this soft whimper when he bit her lower lip gently. When they broke the kiss to take a breath, none of them could open their eyes for a few moments, drunk off the feeling of the other person.

“Cas…” she whispered, playing gently with his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes, my love?”

“I can’t wait to spend eternity with you.”

He just smiled, looking at her bright eyes and lowered his head to kiss her again. And in the loneliness of his cabin, they thought about the future ahead of them.

***

Author’s note:

Thank you for reading! Please, let me know what are you thinking about this one! Your comment means a world for me and motivates me to work! Also, taglist is open! If you want to be added just let me know!

I am sorry about every grammar mistake and misspellings. English is not my first language.

Klaudia 💜

***

Caspian taglist: @elennox03 @live-love-loki @effielumiere

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solartranslations · 2 years ago

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AF2 Common 12/15: Intelligence’s Strategy

The sailors of Intelligence also specialize in conducting background checks…

~*Scene: Felicita’s Room*~

Felicita: *Zzz*

Gli Amanti: Good evening, Ojou-san

Gli Amanti: You aren’t aware of it, but someone is making a move

Gli Amanti: Be cautious, my host

Gli Amanti: The Tarocco is a difficult thing. It requires compensation. That has not changed

Gli Amanti: But as for what will it accept it return

Gli Amanti: Do you have a guess, my host?

~*Scene: Harbor Street*~

Passenger Ship Crew: I’ll need to check your tickets. What is the purpose of your trip?

Orso: Nordia for tourism

Nino: The lord and lady are going for their honeymoon

Passenger Ship Crew: I see! Then I hope they enjoy their trip

(*smile) Nino: Yes, thank you

~*Flashback: SS Arcana*~

Dante: Intelligence will be conducting a top secret mission. The five of us will be pursuing Vir and Teo

Dante: We’ll meet up at the harbor inn, Ricola, tomorrow morning

Felicita: [Jolly has ordered for me to leave the Swords serie and head for Nordia]

Felicita: [So I’ll be part of a top secret mission with Intelligence for the first time]

Felicita: [I know we can’t trust Vir. But why do we need to go out of our way to pursue him…?]

Felicita: [Perhaps it was this mission that Gli Amanti was hinting about in my dreams…]

~*End Flashback*~

Liberta: Should we be worried about them taking this long

Liberta: Ah, is it because our disguises are weird?

Felicita: Huh?

Dante: Don’t worry, Ojou-san. We won’t be caught so easily with these disguises

Dante: As long as we act the part of course

Liberta: Yeah, you’re right

Dante: That’s directed at you, Liberta

Liberta: Huh! Why me!

(*smile) Felicita: *laugh*

Liberta: Not you too, Ojou

Dante: Looks like they’re ready for us. Let’s go, you two

~*Scene: Passenger Ship Hallway*~

Liberta: Be careful of the stairs, Ojou-sama. Here, take my hand…

Felicita: Uh…

Dante: What are you doing!

(*bonk)

Liberta: Oww!

Felicita: …

Dante: Didn’t I remind you? We’re supposed to be undercover. So don’t do anything that would make you stand out

Nino: You really are reckless, Liberta. You don’t change whatever Dante says

Orso: Yeah, you really don’t

Liberta: Hey, we haven’t gone on a cruise in a while. It’d be weird if we weren’t excited!

Felicita: …

Felicita: Does Intelligence always do this?

Liberta: When we need to. But we don’t usually get disguises like this

Nino: Our current target knows what we look like, so he’ll be on to us if we show up dressed as usual. That’s why we needed the disguises

Liberta: How do I look? Sharp, right? I almost never wear a fancy suit like this!

Felicita: Yeah. You look like a totally different person. Very mature

Orso: That may be true, but it feels weird

Nino: You should loosen your tie a bit. It’ll be more your style

Liberta: Then I’d just look like my regular self. I’m going for a Luca-like butler look today

Dante: You do look the part, but it could use some work. Your usual self is still showing through

(*serious) Liberta: Not at all. I do believe you are imaging things, my lord

Orso: Yeah, it’s slipping

Nino: Yup, clear as day

Liberta: Hey! Orso, Nino! Did you really have to say that!

Felicita: It definitely shows that you’re trying. And Luca’s my attendant, not a butler…

Felicita: It’s nice seeing you in a different suit too, Dante. The scarf looks good on you

Dante: I-it does? Haha, it’s embarrassing hearing it from you, Ojou-san

Felicita: The hair is what stands out the most though…

Dante: Well, I have to cover my most distinctive trait to be properly disguised. Might take a few points off my coolness factor though…just kidding!

Felicita: …*sigh*

Liberta: Ugh…but why does Ojou have to be…

Orso: It’s what works. It makes more sense for her to be a young wife than Dante-san’s daughter

Liberta: Okay, but couldn’t she have been mine instead of Dante’s?

Nino: There’s no way you can pull off being a little rich boy so just give it up

Liberta: Tch

Dante: “The dame of Dante” Hm, I like the sound of it!

Liberta: That shouldn’t matter!

Orso: Liberta, even if that’s not your role, you’re still with Ojou-san. You’re playing her attendant, aren’t you?

Liberta: R-right. I got this! …I mean, I am at your service

Dante: At this rate, it’ll take some time before you can become a proper butler

Liberta: As if! Damn it…I’m a butler, I’m a butler. I’m a high class butler like Luca…

Felicita: Liberta…I already said Luca’s my attendant, not a butler…

Dante: Alright everyone, we’re about to get started. Are you ready?

Orso: Dan…I mean, sir. Has there been any movement from Vir’s side?

Dante: Yes. They’ve begun talking. They shouldn’t leave the dining room for the time being

Dante: We should use this chance to get close and listen in

Liberta: Alright! Time to show Vir what Intelligence is made of!

Dante: We’re not low on spirit at least. Let’s just hope it doesn’t blow our cover…

~*Scene: Passenger Ship Dining Room*~

Liberta: What are they saying? They’re talking so quietly it’s hard to hear…I’m getting closer

Dante: If we get any closer, we risk exposure

Liberta: Don’t worry. I’ll just sneak over by pretending to get food

Dante: Wait, Liberta!

Vir: Have you gotten used to your powers?

Teo: Of course I have. I’m good at this stuff

Vir: As expected. You got used to the Stone quickly as well. You’re so reliable, Teo

Teo: No need for flattery!

Liberta: I can hear them talking from here. Hehe, perfect

Dante: Perfect how? What kind of attendant would ignore his master?

Felicita: You’re supposed to be our attendant, aren’t you?

Liberta: Uwah!? Ojou and Dante…

(*glare) Dante: Huh? What did you just say?

Liberta: I mean, sir and madam…

(*smile) Felicita: Right

Teo: Hey, Vir. Should we really have taken a slow ship like this? I thought we were in a hurry

Vir: It will be fine. Do I look like the type who doesn’t think things through?

Vir: We still have the other two in Regalo. It will naturally take some time before we can reconvene

Vir: And we are still missing...the most important piece

Teo: Alright. If you say so Vir, I trust you

Vir: *laugh* I’m glad to hear it

Liberta: Powers and pieces…I don’t get any of it

Dante: …Powers

Liberta: But I do get this much…

Felicita: Liberta?

Liberta: There’s something about them…especially Vir, that says they aren’t to be messed with

Liberta: And the “powers” they’re talking about… That might mean Arcana powers

Felicita: !

Liberta: I’m just guessing. But it’s possible, right? The same thing happened with Ash

Felicita: Yeah…we don’t know for sure. So we need more information

Liberta: Right. We don’t know what they’re planning, so we need figure it out

Felicita: Yeah

Dante: We should get back to our seats before Vir notices

Felicita: Right

Liberta: A contract…? Ugh, if only I could get closer…

Dante: Hey, Liberta. Hurry up

Liberta: Huh? Uwah!?

(*bump) Liberta: Oww…ah, my apologies!

Teo: What’s up with him? He’s a mess

Vir: …Ah, truly

Felicita: Are you okay…? Can you make it back?

Liberta: Oj…I mean, madam, I am so sorry! Your consideration is most appreciated!

Felicita: It’s fine

Liberta: …That was close. Good thing they didn’t notice. Thanks, Ojou

Felicita: Yeah

Dante: I can’t believe you…Don’t scare me like that

Liberta: S-sorry…I panicked when you called me like that

Liberta: But my coordination with Ojou was perfect! I’m really getting the hang of this butler thing

Dante: You call that perfect? Liberta…

Liberta: Huh? Dante?

Dante: Get it together!!

(*whack) Liberta: Ah, ow…

Felicita: You’re making us stand out…

~*Scene: Passenger Ship Hallway*~

Teo: What are you thinking about?

Vir: Oh, I was just thinking how strange those other passengers from earlier were

Vir: Perhaps I should try a disguise as well. The masquerade will begin in Nordia soon, after all

Teo: Me too! Buy me a mask, Vir!

Vir: *laugh*…Of course. I’ll be sure to find the flashiest one there is

~*End of Scene*~

(Continue to Common Event December 20 (Liberta Route))

(Continue to Dante Chapter 3)

(Back to Directory)

#common #arcana famiglia #arcana famiglia 2 #december 20 #solar translations #psp game #translation #releases #....yeah I don't know how Vir wouldn't have caught on to them

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seokmingiggles · 4 years ago

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transmarinus.

(from beyond the sea)

Prompt: "I like the way your hand fits in mine."

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x female reader

Genre: fluff, slight angst, slow burn, mermaid!au, kinda magical overall(?), probably set in the same universe as Ponyo.

6.03k words

Warnings: some alcohol consumption (everyone is of legal age), swearing, the reader has a phobia of the ocean, allusions to drowning (nothing explicitly mentioned).

Beyond the sea, within the sea—both are places you have no desire to explore. You have lived nearly your whole life with an intense fear of the ocean, yet something about it keeps haunting you.

Alternatively, in which you are afraid of the ocean, yet Seokmin shows you that you no longer have to live in fear.

A/N: I don't have much to say about this little passion project; perhaps that Seokmin is one of my main bias wreckers in Seventeen. In my notes prior to determining a pairing for this fic, I had written: "All three have this kind of magical wonder to them that I want to capture," about my possible choices of a protagonist (you’ll find out the other two contenders later on). I hope I have captured this feeling. Furthermore, there are some loose ends for a possible part two if I feel the desire to continue this au. Enjoy!

The lyrics (bolded) are from Somewhere Beyond the Sea by Bobby Darin.

•• Somewhere beyond the sea,

You've never liked the ocean: the seemingly endless dark depths and rushing currents that could pull you below. No, rephrasing your thoughts—you are afraid of the ocean. Sure, it can be pretty to look at on a calm and sunny summer day, and sure, the sea breeze admittedly feels pleasant brushing through your hair and clothes on occasion, but you refuse to give in to its temptation, to even go near it if you can help it.

Somewhere waiting for me,

It can be lonely sometimes, being the only one of your classmates growing up who refused to go swimming on field trips to the beach nearing the end of the semester. You often found yourself alone and listening to the fun they would be having in the shallow tides: a shimmering, azure blue. You learned to bring things to accompany you when your friends would prefer to enjoy their time swimming. A book and a beach towel resting on the silky sands was often your set-up. Not much has changed since then.

My lover stands on golden sands,

You've become better over the years at handling your fear. When before, you used to hesitate to even step foot onto the sand, now you have become comfortable with the squishing feeling between your toes. However, boats are another story. Your mom once took you on a cruise when you were a child, and honestly, you enjoyed it. Well, for the most part, only until the last night of the tour. Frankly, that's the trip that made you develop your fear of the ocean in the first place. Since then, you've refused to step foot on any watercraft. It's a bit ironic, really. You've grown up on a decently-sized island apart from the mainland—the only way to get across is by a ferry. You're not sure if you'll ever be able to regain your trust with the water.

And watches the ships that go sailin'.

•

"I dare you to go skinny-dipping."

"Oh, hell no. That's a hard pass."

"Really, Gyu? You think she'd do that?"

"You're gross, dude."

"What? Do you want me to go instead?"

"Not really. None of us need to see that."

Being friends with Mingyu, Jungkook, and Hansol—your best friend—is a recipe for no dull moments. You four have a tradition; you'd all take a trip to the Jeon family cabin near the island's peninsula as a way to start your summers. You've all been going for the past few years since your final year of high school, continuing the tradition into your college years.

It's where you find yourselves now, splayed out in drunken messes (some more than others) on the semi-private beach. To your right, there's a small fire pit in the center of your beach chairs. A cold drink is in your left hand to counter the heat in your cheeks from the flames.

"Sorry, (Y/N), I'm an idiot," Mingyu admits after finally realizing what he'd dared you to do. "You don't have to go into the water."

"I wasn't planning on it, but thanks," you reply and take a sip of your drink.

The four of you stare at the fire beginning to diminish. Orange embers glow in the ashes.

Hansol swirls the remains of his beer bottle around. "Why do I suddenly want to go swimming now?"

"Dude, no. It's nearly midnight, and you're drunk," Mingyu retorts, "None of that is a good combination."

The younger boy is about to quip back, but suddenly, a loud splash interrupts his thoughts, heard near the row of rocks separating this property from the next.

The tallest boy stands to try to see the source of the noise, but it's much too dark. "Okay, you're definitely not going swimming now. I don't want to be responsible for your death."

The splashing continues. It isn't as loud as the first time, but it's more constant as if something is struggling by the rocks.

"I'll go check it out," Jungkook puts his bottle down and slips on his sandals, already heading closer to the water.

"Not by yourself, you're not," Hansol is quick to jump to his feet and follow the elder.

You remain seated, and luckily, Mingyu remains at your side too.

•

Somewhere beyond the sea,

Seokmin adores the ocean. Well, he sort of has to since it's been his home for nearly nine decades. He loved playing in the currents with his brothers when he was younger—and now—appreciating how the colour of the water changes the closer he gets to the surface. The ocean makes him feel free. It's like he can go anywhere or see anything. Seokmin can't say he's ever felt love before first-handed, it's not a feeling he can define, but he considers the ocean to be the closest thing that he loves.

She's there watching for me,

He has breached the surface before. It isn't a forbidden action to his people, but it is to be taken carefully; however, there are different rules when you're one of the sons of the merking. There are countless cautionary tales of merfolk who have been spotted by sailors, more on what happens when they get too close to shore. Merpeople are supposed to live for centuries as they slowly age, but most of those tales abruptly cut their lives short. Seokmin feels like the only one who isn't afraid of those stories and wants to see for himself what would happen if he met a land-dweller. He's optimistic that they're not as cruel as the fables portray them to be.

If I could fly like birds on high,

Seokmin is a graceful swimmer. With decades of practice, it's a given talent. He used to struggle when maneuvering through the waves, especially when compared to his two brothers. Yet, with great perseverance and will, Seokmin trained himself to become better. Much stronger and significantly more elegant—he can now soar with ease through the water, quite speedily, too. In his younger days—what would be equivalent to teenagehood in humans—Seokmin would travel for days across the wide ocean, simply feeding his desire to explore.

Then straight to her arms—

Being a part of the royal family means Seokmin is eligible for arranged marriages. Soonyoung, his elder brother coming up on a century old, is already engaged to a beautiful mermaid, Tzuyu; the boy suspects he's next as the second-eldest in their family. Seokmin knows it's to benefit his kingdom, but he also knows that the chance of being in line for the throne is incredibly slim as the second brother. All he wants is to find someone he loves as much as he loves the ocean.

I'd go sailing.

•

"No way," Hansol whispers, breaking the silence between him and Jungkook as they've reached the rocky barrier.

Sure enough, the splashing sound is caused by distress. A boy, looking to be around Hansol's age, is stuck between a few large rocks that have fallen from the wall. It's shallow enough that his torso remains above the surface, but the position looks painful, nonetheless, with one of his arms twisted beneath the collapsed rocks.

"Here," Hansol approaches the stranger slowly, "we can help you."

The boy has a fearful look in his eyes as the human approaches. It's only when Hansol has rolled the legs of his joggers up and is wading into the shallows that he notices the lack of legs the panicking boy has, or rather, the glimmering tail he has instead.

He shrugs off the unusual sight and tries to move the rock, but it's much too large for Hansol to budge by himself, staggering slightly on the uneven ground. He calls Jungkook over to aid him, and the two of them together are able to lift the stone out of the way, freeing the trapped boy.

The stranger slips away and back into the depths before anyone could say anything.

"You saw him too, right?" Hansol asks his friend, pointing out to the vast sea and trying to find some evidence of what was next to him moments ago.

"Yeah," Jungkook is nearly speechless, drying his hands on his shirt.

"He didn't even say thank you."

•

"I fucked up. I fucked up big time!" The youngest brother rants to his siblings upon arriving back to his home safely.

"Alright, Chan, it's time to calm down now-"

"No, Soon, you don't understand! This time was different." Chan continues to ramble, "I would have really been in danger if I was stuck there until morning. The rising sun would suffocate me, no doubt. My precious sixty-one years would be down the drain in an instant!"

“So dramatic,” the eldest chirps. "It's a good thing that those humans found you when they did."

Soonyoung has heard enough of Chan's stories about always venturing off to the shore. He's somewhat jealous. Lately, the eldest has had to spend more time planning for his wedding and preparing to become the next-in-line for the throne. He wishes he could join his brother on an adventure like they used to a couple of decades back.

"Please, Seok, you'll listen to me then, won't you? You're a hopeless romantic."

Seokmin isn't sure if he should be offended by his brother's comment.

"And what if I am?" he asks with his hands fidgeting in his lap. "What does that have to do with this?"

"You're the one who enjoyed exploring the most years ago. I know you've done your share of people-watching before." Chan ponders, then adds more quietly, "Well, and also, the boy who first approached me was kind of cute."

"Oho, does our Channie have a little crush on a human?"

"Great, now you're listening, hyung."

Seokmin sits back and listens to his brothers playfully bantering. He admires them both fondly, sometimes wishing he could be as responsible as Soonyoung, or as free-spirited as Chan. Instead, Seokmin becomes more reserved around his siblings, despite not considering himself to be shy. But the three are well-balanced when they're together.

Noisy, but well-balanced.

"Why do I feel like I need to see him again?" Chan asks Seokmin as they're lying in their shared bedroom. Their older brother has a room to himself, being the next-in-line.

"Maybe you really do like him," Seokmin suggests, not quite knowing what to say. He's never before been enamoured by a particular human, nor any merfolk for that matter. "You're making me curious now. It's been a while since I've seen the surface," he sighs, struggling to remember what dry sand looks like.

"Then you should come with me!" Chan doesn't hesitate to suggest, "I can't guarantee he'll still be there, but it's worth a shot. Right?"

Seokmin hums in thought. As much as he would like to comply with his brother's request, part of him knows how they're not supposed to venture to the surface so freely. Especially with it being so close to Soonyoung's wedding, nothing detrimental should happen to them before the upcoming celebration.

"Besides, I should probably return... this... whatever this is."

Seokmin eyes the strange-looking object with a puzzled expression.

"You know, Chan, it's not very nice to steal things that aren't yours."

•

"Are you sure you checked your suitcase?" you ponder, trying to rack your brain of other locations the missing sandal could have gone. "What about by the hose in the back? Maybe you left it there after rinsing the sand off them."

"No, I've gone through my bags twice already, and I don't think I bothered with the hose last night," Hansol replies. "I have a feeling they're on the beach somewhere. Although, I can't remember if I walked up the path in bare feet or not."

"You were quite drunk, Han."

"Oh, hush. We're on vacation, aren't we?" the boy lifted his eyebrows at the question. "I'm allowed to get drunk. Anyways, will you come with me down to the beach? It's not like my shoe could have walked away on its own," he snickers at his joke, "it's bound to show up somewhere."

You try to ignore the rising uneasiness in your chest. "Do you really need me to go with you?"

"Two sets of eyes are better than one, (Y/N). And I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you. You don't even have to step foot into the water or even go close to it, for that matter."

You sigh and reluctantly agree, slipping on your own pair of sandals for the short walk down to the beach. You know Hansol would have asked one of the other boys to venture with him near the water, but Jungkook and Mingyu had left to get more groceries (and drinks) for tonight, so you were the only option.

"Where did you find the other shoe?" you ask as you scan the area around the fire pit. "Isn't it strange that you only lost one?"

"It was outside the front door. But as you said, (Y/N), I was quite drunk last night."

You giggle at your friend's comment, adding, "Maybe a bird flew off with it this morning," and continue to scan the sand.

"Wait, now that I think of it, I don't think I had that other shoe after we went to the rocks," Hansol considers and begins to walk to the familiar barrier.

The short wall looks smaller in the daylight, but you know the rocks are unstable despite their compact appearance.

You cautiously follow the boy as he ventures closer to the tide.

"You and Kook never did mention what you saw last night over here," you state, trying to create conversation to distract you from being so close to the water.

"Didn't we?" Hansol tries to recall, "I guess we didn't. Maybe because we knew that you and Gyu wouldn't believe us."

"Believe what?"

"Believe-"

You and Hansol turn the corner at the first large rock.

"-that."

Your stomach drops at the sight. There are two boys in the shallows; one is casually sitting and looking around, while the other is floating on the surface.

His rosy, fish-like tail is hard to miss.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Chan exclaims upon seeing the familiar figure, now sitting upright like his brother. "I believe this is yours."

The mermaid holds up Hansol's lost slipper while sporting a beaming smile on his face.

You're in shock. You've read about mythical creatures when you were a child, as most kids do at that age, but never have you thought that their existence is real. Let alone that you would ever come face-to-face with one.

"Thank you," Hansol mutters and carefully approaches the younger male.

Chan introduces himself along with his brother, and Hansol does the same with himself and you.

But you're beginning to panic. The feeling is bubbling up in your throat, and you don't want to break down. So instead, you excuse yourself and run back up the pathway to the cabin.

You miss the way the older merman's eyes remain on your figure as you retreat away.

•

It's far beyond a star,

Seokmin feels strange. It's not the first time he's seen a human-being that close, let alone speak with one, but there was something odd about your behaviour; the unusual feeling seems to stem from seeing you.

"Did you see the way she looked at us?" the second-eldest speaks, recalling your tense expression.

It's near beyond the moon,

"Why? Do you think she's pretty? That would be convenient because I still think Hansol is pretty. I thought he was charming in the moonlight, but now, I can say he's even prettier in the sunshine," Chan hums, repeating the boy's name for the nth time upon their return home. "I never knew humans could be so lovely."

I know beyond a doubt,

"No," Seokmin begins, "I mean, yes, she was pretty too, but she looked afraid of us. Of... me. Didn't she?" He pauses. "I've never had someone be afraid of me before."

Chan glances at his brother's concerned expression. "She was probably just surprised, Seok. Maybe she hasn't seen a merperson in-person before."

"Maybe," Seokmin mumbles, not entirely convinced.

The merman's peculiar feelings about you only fester as the days pass by. When Chan would return to that same beach almost daily in the hopes of seeing Hansol again, Seokmin would remain at his home.

He is strangely impacted by you. Not that you even said a word to Seokmin that day, but the way you reacted threw him off.

He longs to know why you ran away.

My heart will lead me there soon.

•

Not that you needed it, but you now have yet another reason to avoid the ocean.

Hansol ends up journeying down to the beach every time he sees the familiar crimson tail splashing in the shallows from the large cabin window facing the ocean. The other two boys have begun teasing their younger friend about his new fishy pal.

You have tried to express your concern about Chan to Hansol, explaining that he may be dangerous, but your friend has only dismissed your worries and encouraged you that Chan isn't a threat.

"He's a fun guy to talk to. You're welcome to join me down on the beach sometime, (Y/N)," Hansol says as he slips his notorious pair of sandals on. "Actually, Chan has been asking about you lately. If you're doing alright."

You look up from your bowl of cereal with a confused expression. "I don't think I even spoke a word to Chan. Why would he be asking about me?"

Hansol shrugs. "Apparently, one of his brothers has been worried about you. I'm assuming that's why he keeps asking, but that's all I know."

You remain puzzled in your seat at the kitchen table as Hansol closes the front door behind him, wandering down the familiar rocky path towards the water.

"Is (Y/N) coming?" Chan's posture perks up at the sight of the boy approaching.

He shrugs his head, "I don't think so. I'm sure you know by now how apprehensive she can be. Stubborn, too." Hansol takes a seat in the sand. His shoes are off quickly once again as he dips his legs into the water, the gentle waves lapping up to his knees.

Seokmin frowns. He's been accompanying Chan on his near-daily visits in the hopes of seeing you again. With all of the stories Hansol has been telling about the human world and his friends, Seokmin has convinced himself that he wants to properly meet you.

Just to make sure she's doing alright, he tells himself. There's no other reason.

Seokmin takes pride in helping people. As the middle child, he'd often take it upon himself to sort out his brothers' issues, especially on the rare occasion he found them arguing. A mood maker, his mother told him in his youth when she'd noticed the way he always seemed to strive to help others feel better. So when Hansol briefly mentioned your fear of the sea, there's nothing that the boy decides he wants more than to help you see that the ocean isn't something to fear.

However, it is a difficult task to accomplish when you wouldn't even venture down to the beach anymore.

There's part of Seokmin that feels guilty about your recent reluctance. From what Hansol has said, it seems like you were making gradual progress in becoming comfortable near the water. In fact, you hadn't always been afraid of the ocean. Yet, it all seemed to backfire the moment your eyes landed on him and Chan.

It makes Seokmin feel even more responsible for your fear.

•

It's raining today, a stark contrast to the previous perfect blue-sky, sunny weather that you've all been experiencing for the past week on your vacation.

You're the first one up this morning, making your way quietly down the stairs and into the kitchen to make some coffee.

You examine the horizon as the aromatic drink brews. The rain is only spitting down now, but you have a feeling it will pick up later with larger clouds slowly rolling in. It looks like the sun is trying to peek out from behind, although unsuccessful in its attempt.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee when enough fills the pot, hearing the sizzle onto the element when you impatiently remove the container as it continues to drip.

Making your way to the dining table nearby, you take a seat in front of the large window, holding your mug between your hands.

The coffee is too hot to drink right now.

Your mind begins to wander as you wait.

•

(Y/N), age seven.

You wake to a faint ringing sound.

"Mom?"

No response.

You shuffle to the edge of the bed to turn on the lamp. As your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, you're met only with an empty room.

"Mom?" you say louder, just to once again, unsurprisingly, be met with nothing.

Maybe she's still at the party on the deck, you think to yourself. That would explain the sound. Maybe it's from the music.

You slip out from beneath the duvet and make your way to the cabin door.

You take a deep breath, not knowing why you're so nervous, and open the door.

There's no music. It's an alarm.

You suddenly feel the ship lurch to the side, throwing you off balance and into the side of the doorway.

"Mom!" you cry out, for someone, anyone.

You don't want to be alone.

Tears are prickling beneath your eyes, and immediately, panic rises to your throat.

"Are you (Y/N)?"

A young male rushes down the hallway in your direction.

You nod your head in response, not finding your words.

"Your mom said you'd be down here, come on. She's already up in the rendezvous spot." His nametag says Seungcheol.

You accept his outstretched hand and follow him as he hurries down the corridor back the way he came.

The boat sways again, but Seungcheol stands his ground, keeping you steady on your feet too.

"What's happening?" your voice crackles.

Seungcheol continues to guide you through the interior of the ship. "There was an unexpected storm suddenly. Captain didn't even see it on our radars, it came out of nowhere. We're taking precautions and gathering everyone in the lounge while he works on getting us to shore."

The two of you make it above the cabins where the wind and rain are pelting down stronger than you've ever seen before. You're having a hard time keeping your balance on the rocking boat, your hand slowly slipping out of Seungcheol's grasp.

A giant wave hits the side of the ship, effectively removing your small hand from Seuncheol's as you're thrown to the side.

You scream as the wave seems to drag you away and pulls you off the edge of the ship.

You hear someone else yell; maybe it's your mother, maybe it's Seungcheol, but before you know it, you are doused in the cold ocean.

The instant your body falls into the depths, you're frozen, petrified, unable to move. You try to struggle your way to the surface, but your clothes weigh you down, only making you sink further below.

Your lungs burn. Trapped in the darkness, you can barely see the moonlight above anymore.

You succumb to your watery grave, eyes closed and arms wrapped around your small figure in a final effort to gain warmth.

Suddenly, you are hit by a feeling of serenity like your mother is cradling you once again. You lean into the tender touch and begin to drift away into unconsciousness.

She belongs to the sea.

You seem to hallucinate a raspy voice hiss out the strange remark.

And then you're gone.

•

Each time you see the familiar grey, gloomy clouds in the atmosphere brings you back to that one fateful day from your childhood.

You know something else happened to you after you fell into the water, but you can't for the life of you recall what.

You know you somehow made it back to the shore safely in one piece. Could it have been that kind staff member who collected you from your room? Or perhaps your mother who dove in after seeing you fall overboard?

You've kept that day to yourself; the only one who knows the full story is Hansol. Not even Jungkook nor Mingyu are aware of all the details; they only know the gist of the origins of your fear of the ocean.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

Hansol's voice brings you back to reality. He's come from the kitchen and is currently standing next to you. Now brought back to your senses, you feel the slight sting from the hot cup of coffee resting between your palms.

"Nothing," you mutter out, removing your hands from the ceramic. You keep your gaze out the window at the hazy horizon; the tide seems to be rising with the weather getting progressively worse. "Are you seeing Chan today?"

"No," he answers, taking a sip from his cup. "Not that I know of, at least. I doubt he'll come if it's raining like this."

The wind looks like it's beginning to pick up. You can hear it howling on the other side of the windows.

"Right, of course."

The boy takes a seat across from you. "Are you sure you're doing okay?" he pushes, "You know you don't have to stay here for the full two weeks with us, right?"

"I know," you reply, "I've just been feeling more anxious recently, but I'm not entirely sure why." You take a sip of your coffee, burning the tip of your tongue slightly. "But I'll be okay."

Hansol's concern for you doesn't waver despite your words or the smile you’re presenting.

"Some storm, huh?" Mingyu's voice is heard from the staircase as he treks down to the main floor. His hair is still damp from his shower.

Hansol makes a noise of acknowledgement and takes another sip of his coffee.

Mingyu prepares a cup of coffee for himself. "Do you think the water will rise all the way up to the deck?"

You involuntary freeze at the thought.

"No, it shouldn't," Hansol says confidently.

And it doesn't, but it does come close. As the rain continues to pour, the entirety of the rocky path becomes submerged beneath the saltwater.

The sound of the storm keeps you awake as you lie in bed that night, picking at a loose thread on the duvet cover. You think you can feel the cabin sway with the heavy wind, but you blame it on your imagination.

She belongs to the sea.

You blame your imagination for the husky voice you hear too.

The sea.

The shutter on your bedroom window flies open; it's certainly not your imagination this time. You immediately stand up and make your way to the adjacent wall to close it, only to see just how high the tide has risen since you've retreated to bed.

Now you must be dreaming.

The sea level appears to be just below your window. Being on the upper floor of the cabin, that's more than concerning.

"(Y/N)?"

You back away from the window at the sound of your name spoken from the other side of it.

A vaguely familiar mop of damp brown hair appears outside your windowsill.

"Seokmin?" You squint your eyes at the face you see in the moonlight. Panic laces your voice, "What the hell is happening?"

Yeah, you really must be dreaming.

The merman reaches his arm through the threshold of your window with his hand open for you to take.

"Do you trust me?"

Every part of you screams no. No! You've lived your whole life in fear of the ocean and what resides within it. Taking this creature's hand would contradict your entirety.

"Please," he adds.

You feel yourself being drawn towards him, one foot after another taking you closer until your hand brushes against his. His fingertips are pruned, a sensation slightly rough against your smooth ones.

When he closes his hand around yours, you hear the rain abruptly stop.

Everything becomes silent, like the drops of water have stopped with time.

"It's okay," Seokmin whispers, warmly smiling at you.

Before you know it, his lips connect with your forehead.

And you suddenly remember that night you fell into the abyss.

•

Your lungs burn. Trapped in the darkness, you can barely see the moonlight above anymore.

You succumb to your watery grave, eyes closed and arms wrapped around your small figure in a final effort to gain warmth.

Suddenly, you are hit by a feeling of serenity like your mother is cradling you once again. You lean into the tender touch and begin to drift away into unconsciousness.

She belongs to the sea.

You seem to hallucinate a raspy voice hiss out the strange remark.

And then you're gone.

No, you think you're gone, but the burning sensation in your lungs is alleviated.

You open your eyes once more to find your small body enveloped by another being. It has a tail: a long, dark violet tail extending beneath you. Your fear hasn't left you completely, but the way you're cradled so carefully eases you.

"It's okay," a gentle voice whispers, causing you to look up to meet a pair of brown eyes and a warm smile. "You're safe."

"What's happening?" you hear your voice ask for the second time that day, unsure of how you're able to speak beneath the water.

"Your father wants you home," is the boy's response, "but I've tried to tell him it's not your time yet."

"My... father?"

You can't picture a face to the name you speak. Each time you've asked your mother about him, she's only said how he was a wonderful man. Was.

"Yes, (Y/N). Sorry about the storm. He gets emotional when thinking of you." One of the merman's hands supports the back of your head to his chest as he dashes through the water. "It's because he misses you."

"Are we going to see him now?"

"No, not yet. One day I'll find you again, and we will see him. Together."

Before you know it, your heads break through to the surface where the weather is much clearer than before. Your rescuer moves slowly towards the beach near the dock, continuing his hold on you until your feet can touch the ground.

You cough up some of the water that infiltrated your lungs before asking, "May I know your name?"

The merman smiles once more, the apples of his wet cheeks reflecting the moonlight. "You will, one day, little jellyfish."

•

Your eyes open only to find you still stood by your window with a familiar set of arms around you.

You take note of his purple tail extending below.

"You," you whisper, taking a step back from the windowsill to get a proper look at the boy residing on the other side, "We've met before."

Seokmin chuckles at your realization, "Yes, many years ago."

"You saved me."

"Kind of," he ponders. "You wouldn't have drowned; your father wouldn't have let that happen. I only made sure you wouldn't sink to the bottom of the ocean."

"Right, my father." The title still sounds alien from your mouth. You gesture to the flooded outside, "Did he do this too?"

Seokmin sheepishly scratches the nape of his neck, "Word may have gotten around that you were visiting the oceanside. You know how excitable Chan can get."

You smile at the idea of the youngest royal brother bragging about seeing you. "If my father's a merman, then why am I human?"

"Who said your father's a merperson?" Seokmin counters, "He's less of a merman and more of a sorcerer who resides within the waves."

"No shit."

The boy giggles at your remark.

"But if I technically come from the sea, then why have I been so afraid of it?"

"Are you still afraid of it now, jellyfish?"

You open your mouth, about to say your habitual response, but only to find yourself lacking one life-long phobia.

"No," you furrow your eyebrows.

"It was a spell I placed on you, back when you were a child," Seokmin fiddles with your hand; his is now dry. "It was to prevent you from returning when you weren't ready."

"Am I ready now?"

"My goodness, so many questions."

But Seokmin takes the time to answer them all for you.

You pull up a chair to the window as he remains in the raised tide.

That night, you learn that you're less human than you originally thought. You're not a merperson like Seokmin and his brothers are, but you do similarly come from the ocean.

Your father had unexpectedly met your mother one summer's day, the two falling in love faster than either party had expected. You weren't necessarily planned, but the two were ecstatic, nevertheless. Your father had to return back to the depths—his home—leaving your mother alone for the rest of her pregnancy. Yet, after she had you, she was significantly less lonely. She seemed to have the whole ocean supporting her, despite her lover unable to return to the surface.

When you were an infant, you were drawn to the water. Perhaps you could hear your father calling out to you for you to return home at sea with him, where he thought you belonged more-so than on land.

Seokmin had placed the spell on you to give you the opportunity for a normal youth on the surface. He recalled the way he so strongly loved being free of stress and confinement before his royal responsibilities became more prevalent and only wished the same for you.

Practicing magic under your father's teaching made Seokmin create a spell strong enough to last for over a decade.

He refrained from telling your father what he'd done that night when he found you. He knew how powerful the man was; a tsunami or hurricane could have easily been a product of his emotions.

Although now, the spell has worn off. Once more, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the water and arguably even-more-so to the boy with his hands encased in yours.

"Will I get to meet him one day?" your eyes examine the way Seokmin's thumb grazes across your knuckles, tracing every crest and trough on your skin.

"Yes," he says, "though only when the tides lower again. I don't want him flooding the entire island out of happiness."

You hum out an "Okay" and catch the beginnings of the rising sun in the distance, illuminating Seokmin's already-glowing silhouette.

•

We'll meet beyond the shore,

"(Y/N), could I try something?"

Seokmin's ears are tinted a pretty pink as he examines your form sitting in the shallow water.

You shift your attention from feeling the silky sand beneath the waves lightly lapping against your ankles and to the merman sitting next to you. His hair is slowly beginning to dry from being in the summer sunshine.

We'll kiss just as before,

Seokmin takes your hand tenderly and brings it to his lips. It's a gentle touch, but the act sends a flurry of butterflies straight into your chest. The boy smiles brightly, his eyes slightly crinkling at the corners, and laces his fingers between yours.

Happy we'll be beyond the sea,

"I like the way your hand fits in mine, jellyfish."

Your eyes meet Seokmin's, who are trained on the pair of your intertwined hands.

"I like it too," you admit, smiling as his gaze lifts and meets yours.

He slowly leans in.

And never again I'll go sailing. ••

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arcanadreams · 3 years ago

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y’all know that dialogue from the beginning of episode 4 where you talk to Mathieu? the one where you can ask if he wants to reenact Titanic with you? yeah well i’m still salty we didn’t actually get to do that so i’m fixing it with some added self-indulgent headcanons for good measure (in second person format of course because i exclusively write and read x reader fic LMAO) headcanons will be under the cut!!

-----

“Want to come to the front of the ship with me and yell ‘I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD!’?” Mathieu merely blinked in response to your suggestion, arching an eyebrow at you.

“...No? Why would I do that?” You were honestly surprised at how unenthused with the idea he was. The only other earthling in the entirety of El and didn’t event want to reenact Titanic with you! The audacity!

“Because it’s fun! Why else?” Mathieu clearly disagreed with your reasoning, narrowing his eyes at you skeptically. “Fine, be that way. I’m going to go bask in Leonardo DiCaprio’s glory all by myself, and I’m going to have a great time.” With that, you left the brunette standing on the ship’s deck. You made your way to the bow. Standing at the edge, you sucked in a deep breath of air, sticking your arms out.

“I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD!!”

Mathieu:

Still as unimpressed as when you proposed the idea, to be honest. But he respects that you have the gumption to go through with it.

You glance behind you when you’re done and stick your tongue out at him before smiling triumphantly.

It’s contagious, he’ll admit...he can’t help but smile back. Maybe it would’ve been fun to join in, if only to see that smile up close...

And the way the wind is blowing through your hair is quite pretty, too...

It’s only when you wink at him that he realizes he’s been caught staring.

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he looks away, running a hand through his hair in that way he always does. This time, though, there is a noticeable sheepishness in the gesture that isn’t usually present.

Later you tease him about it, saying he should’ve thrown his ego away and joined you if he was just going to watch all the fun you were having and shoot envious eyes from the sidelines the whole time!

Yeah...that’s definitely why he was staring...cough...

Lance:

Literally what in the name of fuck are you doing? - his inner monologue

AT FIRST

He’s an observant man; he looks around for context. Honestly, the way Mathieu is rolling his eyes and Koori is laughing at the scene makes him think you lost a bet of some sort and were purposefully embarrassing yourself.

But before he can think any more on the matter, you turn around with this brilliant smile on your face.

(heart eyes.jpg) It’s such a far cry from the sides of you he has seen up until now; he’s only ever seen you distressed or enraged...both of which were due to his actions and presence.

Seeing the crinkle of your eyes when you’re genuinely happy is new and, dare he say it...intriguing. Beautiful, even.

But then the sun hits your hair just right and you almost have a halo around you and suddenly he remember who he is looking at: the savior of El, the hero who saved the entire world...from him. And he remembers he has no right to be looking at you like this, to be peering in on your moment of joy. So he looks back out over the horizon instead.

Leiftan:

Ah, there’s the Y/N he knows. Always there to bring levity to his aching heart.

...Even if he has no idea what the fuck you’re doing.

Just be careful, please!! Don’t topple over the edge of the ship!! He’s a worrywart, be patient with him.

If he weren’t in self-imposed ‘all things to do with Y/N’ exile, he’d be heading right over to ask just what the hell you were doing.

But then the wind rustles your hair and you turn around, resting your elbows on the railing, and oh...the sunlight creates a halo around your head as you close your eyes, clearly enjoying the salty sea air.

Mans about to have a heart attack! You look just as stunning as you did the day he lost you (and himself but he doesn’t really care about that part) to the crystal.

He can literally feel your angelic aura singing, calling out to him in that moment, but he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes it off. He has sworn off anything of the sort. No matter how mesmerizing you are, he can’t give in...(yet)

Nevra:

“Good to know you’re taking this mission seriously, Y/N.”

We’ve got a Debbie Downer on our hands, folks! Ugh! (Just say, “You weren’t as much of a party pooper before I died for seven years.” That’ll shut him up!)

“I’ll have you know I am taking this perfectly seriously,” you turn your body around to face him, and he resists the urge to smile at the grin you meet his gaze with. “In fact, what I just did is a tradition on Earth for sailors. It promotes safe travels.”

“Is that so?” As you nod assuredly, the vampire rolls his eyes. He knows you’re bluffing...but he’ll still probably ask Mathieu about it later. When you’re out of earshot, of course.

“I learned from the best that having a little fun on missions never hurt anyone,” you say, thinking back to your first few missions with him, back before the crystal. Back when he was...different.

“And I learned that it can kill,” argumentative as always, he was...you sighed. Seven years in a coma and your favorite mischief buddy had shoved a stick up his ass while you were gone! Damn.

He noticed the disappointment in your eyes, then, as the sun vanished behind a cloud. Shit. He didn’t...he never meant...ugh. “...If the journey to Genkaku goes well, I suppose your sailor’s tradition will be proven to work.” He was happy to see your face light up the slightest bit at his peace offering.

“It’s gonna be smooth sailing from here on out, and I’m gonna rub it in your face after.” “I look forward to it,” despite himself, his lips tilted upwards the slightest bit. He felt lighter, much more ready to face the mission ahead...as well as your teasing if you were right about the trip in the end.

Koori (because I’m gay and I love her):

Stands next to Mathieu and laughs. Like a lot. What can she say? What you’re doing is already funny enough, but the fact it’s making Mathieu facepalm is just the perfect cherry on top!

She loves when you get mischievous like this. She happily approaches you to ask what you’re doing.

“I’m reenacting a human movie by myself since Mathieu is too much of a coward to join me.” (There’s a clear “Hey!” in the background but the two of you mutually elect to ignore it.)

“Is this the same movie with the Let It Go song Mathieu likes to sing?” She asks, and you laugh. “No, but is it probably just as famous. It’s about a huge cruise ship that sank.”

“Don’t tell me you just set us up to get swallowed by the ocean!” Her ears pressed down to her head as she joked with you. She watched you laugh, the sun shining off your hair and creating a slight halo effect. It kind of reminded her of when she was able to create that illusion of your angel powers for you, only much, much prettier...

She asks for you to tell her all about the Titanic “so we can avoid the same fate,” but in reality she just wants to stare at you in this lighting, in this moment, for longer.

Soon enough the two of you are sat on the stairs to the bow while you blabber on the whole story. She watches the way your eyes light up as you recount the dramatic bits and smiles. You’re so cute. You’ll make this rough journey easier on her, she’s sure of it.

#woo! my best writing done during an accidental all-nighter #as usual #eldarya #eldarya headcanons #posts #my writing #beemoov #mathieu #lance #nevra #leiftan #koori #eldarya new era

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giuliafc · 3 years ago

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Betrayal Chapter 7: Mors tua vita mea

<< 1 -- 2 -- 3 -- 4 -- 5 -- 6 -- 7: Ao3 || FFN -- 8 >>

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: Agrestebug and myimaginationflows

Summary: Did you think we'd heard the end of Lila? No sir… she's back. And her plan is… scary!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server @miraculousfanworks AND for LadyNoir July @ladynoirjuly Day 18 — Pipe-dream/can't transform. Let me know what you think!

oOoOoOoOoOo

Adrien: [M'lady? Have you forgotten about Prince Ali's engagement ceremony? I'm waiting for you at the Town Hall. Please be quick, Chloé sat next to me since you weren't here.]

Adrien: [M'lady? Are you alright? Haven't heard from you for ages. Please call me as soon as you can.]

Adrien: [Marinette? I'm getting really worried now… your mum and dad also haven't heard from you, nor Alya. Where are you? Chloé won't leave me alone!]

Alya: [Girl? Adrien is very worried, where are you? I'm getting worried too…]

At the bottom of the Seine, a phone beeped with a message received and then switched itself off.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Marinette opened her eyes, a sharp pain spreading from the back of her head. She tried to say something but all she could let out was a muffled: "Mhhhf".

"Oh, you woke up. Alla buon'ora!(1)"

Marinette's eyes widened. She wiggled, desperately trying to move, but her body failed to follow her brain's request. That's when she realised she was tied up.

"Wiggling like the slimy little worm you are." The green in Lila's eyes seemed to sparkle as she smirked. She heard Marinette mhhhf'ing some more and her smirk widened. "So good that finally you've been reduced to the silence you deserve."

Marinette could hardly breathe. What happened? She remembered reading Adrien's text message that the place for the ceremony had changed and to meet him at some luxury boat moored at Port Debilly. She had reached the place, a strange man had let her in and…then nothing. The taste of the cloth that had been stuck into her mouth was overwhelming her. Her skin was all tensed around the tape that shut her mouth.

"Is she awake, sweetie?" The man who'd let her in the boat looked in from the door.

"She is, Jacques. Leave us alone a little longer. Then she'll be all yours," said Lila looking at him and the man smirked before closing the door behind him.

Marinette's heart went into overdrive.

"Amazing what you can achieve with flattery." Lila looked at her again, showing her a website that displayed the message she received from Adrien earlier. "And amazing what you can find on the internet. It was so easy…just flattering the right people and I got access to this fake SMS website. And Jacques…is the perfect pawn. He thinks I'll help him sign an exclusivity deal with Prince Ali for his cruising boats. Che imbecille. (2)" She cackled. "And now, it's the end of you. You won't prevent me from achieving my goals again." She slammed her hands on the table in front of her. "All my plans always ended up being no more than pipe-dreams, all because of you! I HATE you, Marinette. You'll pay for all the tears I've shed on my pillow at night."

Marinette wanted to tell Lila that this was going too far. This was much worse than threatening. This was kidnapping. Attempted murder. This was a criminal offence. As annoying and evil as Lila had always been, Marinette didn't expect that she would fall this low. But she couldn't say anything, she could only struggle more with the knots that were tying her arms and hands.

"Pointless of you to try to open those knots," said Lila when she saw her struggling with it. "Jacques was a sailor, he's an expert at knots of any kind. You won't free yourself. Whatever you do. And no superhero will find you here. Jacques will stay, to make sure nobody finds you until Papillon comes back." She patted softly on her cheek. "Yes, Marinette. Papillon wants you spared, to akumatise you. He thinks you'd be his best akuma. Un altro imbecille (3). You must die, and I will make sure you will, this time. This time you won't ruin my plans. I'll be the winner at the end and the real pipe-dream will be yours!" Her face lit up with an eerie light as she sneered. "Mors tua, vita mea(4), after all. You brought this on yourself."

Cackling, she moved to the door. "Jacques? I'm done with her. I'll go to Prince Ali's ceremony now, give me some time to talk to him, okay?"

"I'll make sure the cat won't find her, sweetie. Don't worry."

A wave of disgust shook Marinette's gut when Lila gave the man a quick peck on the lips. But as Lila closed the door behind her and the man kept staring at where she left dreamily, Tikki popped out of her shirt and looked at her with a determined frown.

"Don't worry, Marinette. We'll figure out something!"

All Marinette could do was dart her gaze towards one of the windows of the boat, but Tikki shook her head.

"I won't leave you alone."

Marinette closed her eyes and lowered her head.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Any sign of her, Rena?" said Chat Noir to his communicator.

Chloé had been more clingy than she used to be in the bad times, but as soon as he'd managed to get rid of her, he transformed and started looking for Marinette. The ceremony for Prince Ali's engagement hadn't even started yet, but he didn't give a damn. It was unusual of Marinette to not contact anyone for hours, and his gut feeling told him she was in danger.

"No sign of her anywhere. She won't even answer her bugphone."

Chat Noir sighed. "I know. I've been calling her non stop for hours on both phones. I have a nasty feeling about this."

Carapace appeared near Rena on her communicator. "Don't worry, dude. We'll find her," he said before Rena hung up.

"Hope so, bro." Chat Noir looked at his baton with concern. It felt like a useless exercise to look for her in superhero form. Wherever she was, it wasn't in full sight. There was only one other thing he could do. He opened his communicator again and dialed Nathalie's number.

To be continued… Day 19

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

Notes:

Alla buon'ora = At bloody last! (Italian)

Che imbecille = What an idiot (Italian)

Un altro imbecille = Another idiot (Italian)

Mors Tua Vita Mea = Your death, my life (Latin)

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

Author's Note

Well.. so now you know. Lila wasn't seething in the distance for no reason at the end of the other chapter. Marinette has pushed her buttons a little too much and… well, she may have gone a bit extreme but, why not?

I hope you liked it and will leave me a comment. You know that comments are my bread and butter!

Until tomorrow, bug out!

#miraculous ladynoir #miraculous love square #miraculous lb #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #miraculous adrien #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous nathalie #nathalie sancoeur #ladynoirjuly2021 #miraculous fanworks #lila rossi #lila rossi's plan is scary

11 notes · View notes

panda-noosh · 4 years ago

Text

on the ocean {Leo Valdez x Reader}

Words: 9.8k

Summary: Living on a boat has let you see plenty of weird things in your life. Leo Valdez might be the weirdest, so you don’t really understand why you decide to help him when he comes running onto the boat you call home, crying out for help.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: nothing

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - so this is a thing now.

----

The sea is nice this time of day.

You've docked, thank goodness. The constant sway of the ocean can take it's toll on anyone – including someone who has lived on a boat their entire lives. It's nice to take a break from it every once in a while.

Now, with the sun slowly dipping behind the skyscrapers of New York, you lean against the railing and watch the people clatter onto the boat you call home. They struggle with suitcases and fussy children. A woman drops her ticket and starts crying, clearly exhausted from hours of travelling. You watch the process with a fond little smile on your face, enamoured by the people who will soon be sharing your space, the people you may soon come to know as close friends if all works well.

There's tons of them getting on at this stop, but it's always the same with New York; considering how beautiful the city is, you're always shocked to find so many people wanting to flee from it, so many people wanting to spend their time on the ocean rather than amongst the skyscrapers and hot dog carts that you've heard litter the streets of New York. You, personally, would love to have a look. Just once. Just a single day where you can clamber off this cruise ship and take a dander through the streets, seeing what all the fuss is about.

But you like it here. You like the rock of the ocean sometimes. You like the swish of the wind as it catches in your hair on nights where you can't seem to drag yourself away from the decks railing, too enamoured by the oceans sway to move.

The commotion down below does not faze you. It never does; you've been here long enough to have seen almost everything by now – children threatening to throw themselves into the harbour, people genuinely falling into the harbour, tickets getting lost, suitcases being tipped the wrong way so the poor passengers clothes go sprawling into the ocean. After so many years of unpredictability, you've become immune to surprises.

Until you see him.

You don't recognise him – not at all. His dark curls, his short demeanour, the oil stained overalls hanging from his lanky body; you would surely remember him if you were to have seen him anywhere else, but his face doesn't ring a bell. Neither does his voice, which reaches even your ears despite how high up you are in comparison to him.

He sprints through the centre of the crowd, nudging shoulders with everyone as he yells apologies left, right and centre. He's grinning, despite the startled tone in his voice. He pushes right to the front of the line, where he is stopped abruptly by a hand slamming into his chest, very nearly knocking him backwards.

You have to crane your neck to see what is going on. The strange boy stands panting in front of Arnold, one of the ships dock workers.

“Look, man,” the boy says, jumping from one foot to the other. “You have to let me through. You have to.”

“Ticket,” is Arnold's only response.

The boy groans, glancing over his shoulder in desperation. You don't even know what he's looking at, but it's clearly something terrifying. Even without knowing what it is, your stomach does a nervous flip.

“I need a ticket,” Arnold repeats. “Or else I can't let you on. I'm sorry, son.”

“Oh, come on!” The boy throws his hands up. “Why are you so boring? You ever broken the rules in your life?”

Shit.

You're moving before you even know why – you don't know this boy, have never seen him before in your life, but there's something about the way he's stumbling over his words, something about the suspicious red scrape on his cheek that tells you he shouldn't be out in the open like that; something is wrong.

You clamber down the steps until you reach the entrance. You shove past the new passengers until you slam into Arnold's back, nearly stumbling over your own two feet in your haste. Arnold spins, catching you before you can fall face-first into the angry queue of passengers still waiting outside, clearly angered by the disruption.

“You made it!” you exclaim, looking directly at the startled boy in front of you. “You're a bit late, aren't you? I cleaned my room for you, and this is how you repay me?”

“Y/N?” Arnold asks, tugging you back protectively. “You know this boy?”

You raise a brow as if confused that Arnold does not know who this boy is. “Of course I do. He's my friend. Mum and Dad said I could meet up with him once we docked in New York.” You frown. “Did they not tell you?”

Arnold's face goes red. “No, they did not.”

“Weird.” You turn back to the boy, putting your angry expression back on again. “Come on. You've held up the line long enough.”

The boy looks between you and Arnold, eyebrows high on his forehead; you grab his hand and drag him through the door before he can expose your act as the lie it is. He stumbles in after you, shooting a “Sorry, man!” at Arnold before you pick up the pace and trail him upstairs.

This is so bizarre; you've just lied to Arnold for seemingly no reason. If he goes to your parents and asks about who this strange boy is, you're going to be in so much trouble.

But too late now.

And call it scandalous, but the only place you can think to take him is your bedroom, so that's exactly where you go. You push him through the door, slamming it closed before you spin and say, “What's your name?” because that seems like an important piece of information to have from someone who you have just dragged into your bedroom.

“Leo.” He says it like he's in a daze. His brown eyes dart back and forth, inspecting your room. His fingers don't stop moving, fiddling with a piece of scrap metal you hadn't even noticed he was holding. “Uh. . . Pretty sick place you've got here.”

“It's my bedroom.”

“Your cabin, you mean.”

You level your eyes at him. “My bedroom.”

He stares back at you. His face is mischievous. Does that make any sense? He just has the expression of someone who could potentially burn the entire world to the ground, a smile sharp as knives, eyes bright and glittering.

Finally, he hums and says, “Okay. Well, thank you very much for saving my backside out there; I don't usually like my first impressions to consist of screaming, but here we are.”

“Why were you screaming?”

He raises a hand as if to silence you and starts pacing back and forth for absolutely no reason. “That is a secret. Top secret. I'd have to kill you if I told you.”

“Or I'd have to kill you.”

He pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “I suppose. But less talk about murder, please, and more talk about why you just did that.”

Your stomach curls. “You looked. . . in trouble.”

Leo blinks. “I mean, good observation, but half the people with toddlers out there looked like they were in trouble, too, and you didn't shove them to the front of the line and give them a free ticket to. . .” He pauses, looking round your room like he expects to find a map of your route hung on the wall. “Where is this thing going, anyway?”

“Northern Ireland,” you reply. “You didn't know that?”

“I just saw a big transportation device and hopped right on it.”

This conversation just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

And this boy is weird, too, but in an endearing type of way. You watch from the door as he walks back and forth, picking up tiny ornaments, examining them with a slight frown on his face. At one point, he picks up your laptop and closes his eyes, before shaking his head and saying, “It's on its last legs,” and you're too stunned to even respond.

Finally, it gets too much. You dart forward and snatch a pair of socks out of his surprisingly strong hands, tossing them on your bed. His eyes snap up, wide and startled.

“Tell me what you were running from,” you demand.

Leo frowns, slowly letting his hands drop back to his sides. “I already told you-”

“Top secret, yes, I heard, but we both know that's bullshit-”

“You do curse like a sailor!”

You slap his shoulder. He laughs, pulling away. “I'm serious! I'm freaking out right now, alright? If my parents find out I let you on this boat, they're going to throw me overboard!”

Leo rolls his eyes. “They're not going to find out. I'll stay super extra hidden, how does that sound?”

“How are you gonna do that? You need a place to sleep-”

“I can sleep in the engine room if you just show me where that is.”

You raise a brow. “No one can sleep in the engine room; it gets very hot in there. You'll probably die from the heat.”

Leo's eyes sparkle with what you can only recognise as amusement. “Well, lucky for me, I'm also very hot. I'll balance it out.”

“I'm serious.”

Leo groans. “Listen – you've done enough. You got me on the boat in the first place, so you can forget about me now, alright? I'll take matters into my own hands.”

“You realise this is my house, right? I'm not just going to let you walk around; god knows what you'll get up to.”

“The gods set me up in the first place.”

You blink. “What?”

Leo shakes his head, curls bouncing. “Nothing. My point is, I will be fine. I'll go play some table tennis with the retired ones out on the games deck, yeah? What harm could I possibly be doing?”

You stare at him; it would be so stupid of you to just let him do whatever, but it was stupid dragging him on this boat in the first place – what's one more mistake going to do?

You sigh and nod. “Fine. But please pretend you know me; if my parents ask-”

“I'll say you fancy me and you wanted to impress me, it's fine. I've got this!”

“No, that's not-”

Leo walks towards the door, not once looking back. “I've got this-” He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle as he turns his neck to look at you. “What's your name again?”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

Leo grins. “I've got this, Y/N L/N. You can trust me.”

----

You should never have trusted him.

Arnold doesn't always come banging on your door at nine in the morning, but when he does, you can safely assume the ship is going down. You've hit an ice berg. All hell is breaking loose and there is a ninety percent chance you are going to die.

So when you are awoken this morning by the sound of him yelling your name, his fists slamming against the mahogany door, you're fairly certain this is it; you are going to die.

You bolt upright, blinking rapidly. “What? What is it?”

He stumbles into the room, wrinkled face bright red, sweat dripping down his temples. Slowly waking up lets you realise the ship isn't rocking quite as bad as it should be if you were going down.

You rub your eyes. “What the hell, Arnold? What's going on?”

He speaks through gritted teeth, spittle spraying everywhere. “That friend of yours, Leo Valdez; get him under control before I throw him overboard.”

You blink, certain you've heard him wrong. For just a moment, you've completely forgotten who Leo Valdez actually is, but the moment of peace is shattered when the realisation dawns on you. Yesterday. Bringing that strange boy onto the ship, claiming he was your friend.

Fuck.

You stumble out of bed and follow Arnold all the way to the bridge.

“Why are we here?” you demand, even though you already know the answer, even though you can already hear Leo yelling up above.

Arnold doesn't respond; he simply shoves you forward and lets you take control of the situation, which is overall just a bad decision on his part. Still dressed in your pyjamas, you stumble through the door, your stomach dropping once you see Leo standing beside Anna, the ships captain, his head bent over the controls, his voice loud.

“The alignment is way off,” he says. “If you'd just let me have a touch of the wheel, I could-”

Anna shoves her shoulder into Leo's chest. “Would you fuck off? Who even let you in here?”

“I found my way here,” Leo replies. “Because I couldn't help but notice that the alignment on your ship is shit, and-”

You rush forward and grab his arm, pulling him away from Anna before the tall ginger girl can backhand him overboard. Leo stumbles into your grip, whirling around with a frown that quickly morphs into a big, cheeky grin once he sees you.

“Y/N L/N! My friend! You'll tell your captain here that she should let me have a look at the wheel so I can-”

“Leo, what the hell are you doing in here? Passengers aren't allowed on the bridge!”

Leo frowns.

“You are a passenger, remember?” you hiss. “Now, let's go before-”

He shakes his head, slowly turning back to the wheel. Your grip tightens on his arm, ready to pull him back if need be. “I'm sorry, Y/N, but do you know how dangerous it is driving a ship with wonky wheel alignment?”

“We'll call the mechanic in.” You tug his arm. “Let's go, Leo, seriously-”

“Why would you waste time doing all that when I could just-”

“Y/N, get him out of here.”

You groan, finally putting all of your strength behind the next pull on his arm. It's enough to have him stumbling out of the bridge behind you, and you kick the door closed before he can even think of turning back and continuing with his havoc.

He whirls on you as soon as the door is shut, Anna rushing to lock it. “I just wanted to help!”

“Leo, do you know how dangerous it is for someone to be distracting the captain whilst she's driving?” You shake your head, running your hands through your hair. “How long have you been awake?”

“Oh, many hours. Many, many hours. It's hard to sleep when-”

“When a ship's wheel alignment is off, yes, we all heard you!”

Leo huffs, folding his arms over his chest; he looks like a toddler, lower lip jutted out, eyes lowered as he kicks the toe of his boot into the floor. His curls dip into his eyes. He looks kind of cute like this.

You look away. “What happened to you just staying on the games deck with the retired old people?”

“Mildred beat me at ping pong last night and told me not to come back.”

“Leo...”

He sighs, letting his arms drop to his sides. “Okay, I get it. I stepped out of line. I do that when I'm on edge.”

You raise a brow. “Why are you on edge?”

He doesn't respond, which just irks you even more. Trying to get a straight answer out of him is seemingly impossible, so you don't even know why you're bothering – but you are. He just confuses you. There's so much you want to ask, but very little he's willing to share, and you suppose that's fair. It's up to him who he shares his secrets with.

You decide to start small. “How could you tell the ships alignment was off?”

A tiny smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, like it's a funny story. “I just know. It's kind of a special skill of mine.”

“Oh? You spend a lot of time on boats?”

“No.” He pauses. “Well, not technically, but I built a boat once.”

You blink, certain you heard him wrong. “Sorry?”

“The Argo II it was called,” he continues. “I loved that thing.”

You look at him; he can't be much older than you, surely, and that is much too young to be creating entire ships. You've barely finished school.

“You built a ship?” you parrot.

Leo nods, distractedly looking at the soft play area on the games deck. Even at this time of morning, children are running and screaming as they dive from the top of it, landing in the soft blocks at the bottom.

You, however, turn all your attention on Leo. “You're insane, you know.”

“I've had my suspicions.”

“I'm serious; you've just told me you built a ship. Like, an entire vessel, and you're acting like it's no big deal.”

“It isn't a big deal.” Leo smirks, nudging you with his arm. “Unless, you know, you want it to be a big deal, then I will gladly take the praise.”

“It is incredible.” You catch yourself and frown. “But you're still insane.”

Leo laughs. It's a pleasant noise, a little high pitched, a little maniacal, but you find yourself smiling at the sound of it. It ends in a happy little “aaaah,” before Leo turns to you and says, “I really am sorry, by the way. I'll try and stay out of trouble from now on.”

“Thank you, Leo,” you reply. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

Just at that moment, his stomach awakens, growling loudly. He claps his hands against his abdomen and frowns, before turning to you and saying, “Apparently not.”

“Come on.” You grab his hand and start towards the canteen. “I'll get Esmerelda to make us some breakfast.”

----

Leo can actually be a lot of fun when he isn't trying to rip the controls of the ship from the captain's hands.

He's funny, which is one thing you didn't expect; he just seemed too jittery in the beginning, forever fiddling with that piece of scrap metal, eyes darting back and forth, like his brain was never working at anything less than one hundred miles an hour.

He's also very polite, with the occasional sarcastic comment thrown in the direction of someone who looked at him weirdly, which there seems to be a lot of. As the two of you stroll through the ship together, you can't help noticing the eyes that follow you, and honestly, you don't really blame them. Leo certainly is a bit different; he walks with this skip in his step, and his voice is always really loud, even when there's nothing to be loud about. He's still dressed in his oil stained overalls, his curls bouncing around his head with little to no care.

You don't know why you find it so endearing.

The two of you spent the day doing everything, and that is no exaggeration. You played ping pong, despite Mildred's protestations that the gaming deck wasn't big enough for both her and Leo. You ate ice cream. In fact, you ate everything, until Arnold was telling you to slow down and make room for dinner later.

Dinner which you missed as you decided to spend the evening with Leo.

He took you down to the engine room, claiming to have put some AC in there that wouldn't affect the mechanisms of the boat, but would simply cool the room down enough for him to sleep there.

“Not like I need it,” he says, flicking on the lights in the corridor leading to the engine room. “I can handle heat.”

“There's no way you installed an AC system into the engine room in a night,” you reply. “You're not that good.”

Leo smiles playfully. “See, that's where everyone goes wrong – they underestimate me.” With that, he pushes open the engine room door, revealing everything beyond – the whirring machines, the chugging engines, the steam billowing from contraptions you don't even know the name of, which is a little bit shameful considering you've lived amongst this stuff your entire life.

Where there should be smouldering heat, there is no such thing. Leo steps into the room and sighs in bliss, closing his eyes. You watch the curls blow away from his forehead. You reach forward, testing the air with your hand.

Your eyes widen at the feel of cold air brushing against your fingertips.

“How did you. . . Is this real?”

Leo opens his eyes and grins, grabbing your outstretched hand and pulling you in after him. “I told you I was good.”

“Leo, this is . . . You did this in a night?”

“I did this in. . .” He frowns, glancing at his invisible wrist watch. “About three hours. It was easy enough once I figured out where you keep all your tools.”

You can't even begin to form words; it's such a simple thing, an AC, but this boy is the same age as you, and he has been here not even a full twenty four hours, and yet he's improving the ship in more ways than you would have dreamed of.

You turn to him. He looks right back at you. “You're quite good with tools, aren't you?”

“You could say that.”

“Where did you learn all of this?”

“My dad.”

You raise a brow. “Is he a mechanic?”

Leo smiles; he does that a lot, though you're yet to learn why. “No. He's in the – uh – higher up's, I guess you could say. My mum was the mechanic.”

“Was?”

Leo's smile fades. He coughs and turns away. “Yeah. Was. Now, how about I show you where I slept last night?”

Without any elaboration, Leo starts towards the back of the room, the hottest part of the entire ship. You remember your dad warning you, time and time again, never to step foot in the engine room at all, but especially not this part of it. You smell the smoke billowing from the coal shafts, hidden behind insulation. You feel the heat, even through the AC, pressing against your skin.

Once you've walked far enough into the room for the heat to be prominent again, Leo reaches back to stop you going any further. Without looking at you, he says, “Don't think you can go much further than that, I'm afraid; I'll take it from here. I need to grab a few things.”

You grab his hand. “Wait, you can't-”

He shakes you off him and steps deeper into the engine room. Your chest constricts, panic seizing you; only professionals have ever wandered this deep into the ships depths, because they know what they're doing. They wear the protective gear. They've trained for years.

Leo hasn't even been on the ship an entire day.

“Leo!” you call out, stepping forward as much as you dare. “Leo, this isn't funny! Come back here!”

“I'm fine.”

The sound of his voice, unharmed and unwavering, makes the breath leave you. You slouch against the wall, craning your neck in any attempt to see where he is, but you only catch glimpses of his dark curls as he parades back and forth, the sound of metal on metal being heard with absolutely no context.

You don't understand how anyone can walk so deep into what is essentially a pit of flames and come out unscathed; what's even weirder is the fact that Leo slept in there last night.

“Please keep talking to me,” you call. “If my dad finds out I let you in here-”

Leo pops his head around the corner, grinning from ear to ear. Black soot stains his nose, but besides that, he looks unharmed. Around his waist is a velvet tool belt that he definitely was not wearing before. You frown, gesturing towards it vaguely.

Leo looks down as if only just noticing he'd put the thing on. “Oh, this. It's my tool belt.”

“Yes, I can see that. But. . . why?”

Leo shrugs and walks past you. “It's special. Shall we go? Now that you've seen I'm not actually lying when I say I put an AC in-”

“Which is still insane, by the way.”

“You've said.”

Together, the two of you clamber out of the engine room and walk back to the deck. The dinner crowds are just starting to disperse now, people heading out onto the main outdoor deck for a few after dinner drinks with the family. Toddlers are perched on parents shoulders, falling asleep after such a feast. Around you, the lamps are being turned on to illuminate the impending darkness that will soon ensue.

Leo hums thoughtfully, gazing up at one of the lamps; it's flickering.

“That one's always been like that,” you say. “Nobody's come to fix it. Nobody really minds it.”

“It puts the aesthetic off a little bit, doesn't it?” He shakes his head, stopping right in front of it. “No, we can't let that continue.”

“What are you-”

He reaches into his tool belt and pulls out a light bulb – just one, the perfect size and shape for the lamps lining the deck. You narrow your eyes, jaw dropping open as Leo starts climbing onto the railing, reaching his small arms above his head to get to work on the lamp in question.

“Hold my legs, will you?” he calls down to you.

And even though you're in a daze, growing only more and more confused by this strange man, you lurch forward and wrap your arms around his knees, keeping him from slipping off the edge of the deck and into the murky waters below.

In seconds, the bulb has been changed and the lamp is working just fine. Leo hops back down beside you, grinning brightly as he tucks his screw driver back into his tool belt.

You hook a finger through the pocket, tugging him closer so you can peak inside; at first glance, it looks empty, but you're certain that can't be right – he's just put his screw driver inside it. He's just pulled a light bulb out of it. How can it be empty?

Leo laughs, gently prying your fingers off. “I told you it's special.”

“Where did the screw driver go?”

He presses his index finger to his lips. You scowl, swatting his arm until he throws his head back in laughter.

“I'm glad you're enjoying yourself,” you grumble.

Leo nudges you, his laughter slowly descending into a simple chuckle. “Oh, lighten up. The screwdriver is in there.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere.”

“Who are you, Leo Valdez? Where the hell have you come from?”

He swipes his tongue along the inside of his cheek, deep in thought for a moment. Finally, he turns to you and says, “I'd have to kill you if I told you.”

“Or I'd have to kill you.”

His eyes sparkle. “Or that, yes.”

----

“We don't even know what they are. We've never had a warning signal like this before.”

“Let me see.”

Your dad shoves to the front and ducks his head down to see into the flashing screen in the control room; an emergency alarm had gone off in your room only moments before, startling you from a peaceful sleep. Another night spent traipsing through the ship with Leo had left you utterly exhausted, but hearing that high pitched beep woke you into full alert. You joined both your parents and the rest of the crew in the control room in seconds.

“It's in the shape of a trident,” Arthur, one of the control experts, says, pointing at the glowing trident flashing on screen. “What could that even mean? Who's sending that?”

Your dad frowns. “I have no idea. Is it some kind of prank?”

“There are no other boats around for miles, sir. None are even showing up on the radar.”

You fiddle with your fingers. You hate this unpredictability, especially when you're so far out to sea. There is nobody here to help you if all goes wrong, and anyone who can help is miles away; the ship will surely be in tatters by the time anyone can reach you.

Your dad sighs, raking his nimble fingers through his slowly greying hair. “It's okay. It's okay. We'll figure it out.” He turns and catches your eye, stopping midway. “Y/N, go back to bed.”

“What's happening?” you ask.

“Nothing terrible.” He places a hand on your shoulder, gazing into your eyes lovingly, but it doesn't matter how he wants to play it off – you can recognise fear in your fathers eyes, and it's there now. He hates the unpredictability just as much as you do. “Go back to bed and get some sleep; if anything happens, I'll come wake you in plenty of time.”

“What about the passengers?”

He raises a brow. “Is this about your little friend Leo? Arnold was telling me all about him.”

Your cheeks heat up, and you flick your eyes to the floor.

Your dad sighs, squeezing your shoulder. “The passengers will be safe, too, Y/N. I wouldn't have kept my family on this ship if we didn't have the most state of the art safety precautions put in place. It's going to be fine. Don't stress about it.”

Don't stress.

That's so easy for him to say having been trained in the art of keeping a straight face for other people. You, not so much.

Nonetheless, you leave the control room and head back out onto the deck. Your exhaustion is finally starting to creep up on you, but you know you won't be able to sleep. You'll sit in bed, tossing and turning with the waves, and your night will be made into hell; you don't really fancy that right now.

And so, you walk along the outside deck, hair blowing around, the lanterns up above illuminating the path you have memorised by now; in fact, you truly think you would be able to walk through this very area in pitch darkness without a care in the world. The metal beneath your feet is so familiar, holding stories from your childhood, bringing you back to a time when you would walk across here, holding your parents hands, wondering why on earth anyone would want to live life on land over the sea.

“I thought you'd gone to bed.”

Your eyes snap up. You have to narrow them to see clearly, but you can make out the shape of Leo Valdez sitting on the edge of the railing, his feet dangling over the water, his knuckles white with his grip. His curls are windswept, brushed over his forehead. His cheeky smile is on full show, his glittering eyes running up and down your form before finally meeting your own.

He frowns when he sees your expression.

Quickly you avert your gaze, tucking your hands into the pockets of your massive hoodie; you don't even know where you got it from, just that you found it laying on the floor and threw it on before barrelling through the halls to see what all the commotion was about.

“Is that my hoodie?”

Your cheeks heat up despite the cold night chill. “No.”

“Pretty sure it is.”

“So what?”

“Looks good on you.”

You mumble a thank you.

“You gonna tell me what's got you so glum?”

You hollow out your cheeks, kicking a pretend stone. You imagine it flicking beneath the railing, landing in the water to make those mini waves you were once so fond of.

The railing creaks as Leo turns his body to face you. “Hey. You alright?”

“I'm okay,” you mumble. “Can I sit up there with you?”

Leo holds out his arms. You waddle over, letting him pull you onto the railing beside him. Once you're seated, he keeps one arm around your waist, holding you close to ensure you don't fall head first into the water; you should probably let him know that you used to sit on this very railing every single night, that you know how to keep yourself up, but you don't. You instead move a little closer to him.

“What's on your mind, champ?” he asks, jokingly ruffling your hair.

You scrunch up your nose, swatting his hand away. “Just worried, that's all.”

“Worried about what?”

“The ship. The journey. We got a warning signal sent through to us, but no one on the crew knows what it means; they've never seen it before.”

Leo's eyebrows knit together. “How have they never seen it before?”

You shrug. “I've been asking myself that, too. My only guess is that someone's hacked the system from another boat and is sending random symbols through to mess with us, but Arthur said there's not another boat for miles.”

“What did this warning signal look like?”

“It was like that. . . that thing.”

Leo leans forward, meeting your eyes; he looks almost desperate, his tan skin suddenly pale. “What thing?”

“You know.” You click your fingers, trying desperately to remember the name. “That thing that god used to hold all the time. The . . . The big water stick.”

Leo's eyes flash. He jerks back, arm falling from your waist so fast you nearly tumble into the water. “A trident?”

“That's the word.”

“Oh, gods.”

Before you can say or do anything, Leo spins around and hops off the railing. He reaches up and grabs you, pulling you back into his chest, setting you on the floor despite your squeal of shocked protest.

“Leo, what the-”

“Go back to your cabin and don't leave,” he demands. “I mean it, Y/N. Lock the doors if you have to. Only come out when I say.”

You blink, completely lost by now. Part of you wants to burst out laughing, certain all of this is some big joke, but Leo's eyes are wide, and he's breathing heavily, and you've never seen him act like this. Ever.

“Leo...”

“Go, Y/N!” He scrapes one hand through his hair, the other dipped into his tool belt. He mutters to himself as he pulls out the most random of things; bubble wrap, a pack of Tik Taks, a Stephen King book, multiple wrenches, one of which he throws overboard as his frustration grows.

You grab his wrist. “Please explain what's going on.”

His eyes shoot up. “I don't. . . . I can't really explain it without sounding crazy.”

“You sound crazy all the time.”

“Fair.” He pauses, glancing around nervously, before he leans in and says, “You ever heard about the Greek gods?”

You pull away, frowning. “Leo, I'm being serious. You looked really scared-”

“Have you ever heard about the Greek gods, Y/N? I'm asking a serious question.”

“Of course I have, but-”

“Heard of Hephaestus?”

“Yes, but-”

“Well, I call him dad.”

You blink. Leo doesn't stop moving, continuing the search for whatever he's looking for inside his never ending tool belt. Under his breath, he mutters, “Please, please, please don't let it be them. Please, please, please.”

Your silence must span an awful long time, though it only feels like seconds before Leo is flicking his eyes up, frowning and saying, “Why are you still standing there?”

“What the hell does Hephaestus – the Greek guy – have to do with the warning signal we got?”

“Oh, yeah, I could explain that, I guess.” He tugs another wrench out of his pocket and rolls his eyes, tossing it into the ocean. “That makes me a demigod; my mum's a mortal, my dad's. . . . Hephaestus. That means loads of monsters are constantly on my ass literally all the time.” He sends a pointed glare at the ocean. “I must have done something to tick off the sea nymphs-”

“Sea nymphs?”

“Because they've all been trying to kill me for weeks!”

You shake your head. “Is that what you were running away from-”

“When you saved me? Yes, it was, and thank you for that, really. Means a lot.” He grabs your arm, swirling you towards the exit. “Now, please let me return the favour by staying in your cabin.”

He pushes you forward. You stumble, catching yourself on the door before spinning back to face him. “So you think these. . . these sea nymphs have found you? That's what the warning signal was?”

“It makes the most sense,” Leo replies. “Rookie mistake on their part; they're giving me a lovely head start on-”

Something slams into the underside of the ship.

You're thrown into Leo, chest smashing against chest, chins smashing against chins. You're a tangle of limbs when you land on the floor, Leo on his back with you on top of him. Neither of you have a chance to even be embarrassed, though, before a melodic voice is drifting up from the waves, so appealing that it nearly drives you directly over the edge just to go and find it. It lifts your spirits. Everything is right in the world so long as you continue to hear this lovely, lovely voice. . .

“Snap out of it!” Leo grabs your arm, pulling you to your feet. “Okay, so they have definitely found me.”

“Come to us, son of Hephaestus, and we shall spare the innocent mortals on this ship.”

Leo groans. “Always with the bargaining! Can't you guys just die already?”

Your eyes widen. Your hands are trembling. This is too much for you to handle. “Leo, please don't make them angry.” You glance over the railing, seeing nothing but the swirling waters below. “Uh, hello, friendly sea nymphs; he doesn't mean that. He's a little bit cranky right now because he hasn't slept much, but I promise-”

Leo hisses, tugging you away from the edge. “Would you just-”

Another wave crashes against the ship, knocking you and Leo to the side. Your shoulder slams into the glass, and this time, the sirens go off. The entire ship is notified of danger. Soon, every deck on the ship will be flooded with innocent people, people who have no idea that any of this is going on, people who could potentially be in danger if these mystical sea nymphs don't get exactly what they're asking for.

Leo curses, scrambling upright. “Okay, maybe we don't have as much of a head start as I thought we did.”

“You think?”

Another wave. Your feet slip from beneath you, sending you sprawling. Leo cries out your name, scrambling for your hand, but he's just as drenched as you are. He slips, crashing to his knees as you slide down the length of the deck, scrambling for anything to hold onto. Eventually, your feet crash against a barrel lodged against the wall, stopping your impending doom for a few moments longer. Below, passengers are screaming, and you can't even bring yourself to think about what is happening to them, what they must be seeing right now.

“Leo!” you cry out, choking on water. “Leo, where are you?”

“Leo Valdez is ours,” the melodic voice chimes in. “He has taken our existence as a joke for far too long; it's about time our people show him some respect.”

“Okay, okay!” You gag, fighting to keep your head above the waves splashing into your face. “I get it! He's a little shit, but please, give him one more chance. I'll – I'll keep him in check as best I can. I'll-”

“We don't want to hear it.”

The ship rocks again. People scream. One more hit, and you're certain they're gonna go through the hull. One more hit, and this entire ship is going to go down, taking thousands of innocent passengers – and Leo – down with it.

You can't let that happen.

With difficulty, you lift yourself from the grip of the waves coursing along the deck. You do one final check for Leo, but he is nowhere to be seen – you can't even hear him, which really just confirms the severity of this situation. You need to do something quick.

You say a silent prayer to Hephaestus, and you feel stupid for it, but you're willing to do anything right now just to make sure you get to see Leo's face again, that stupid grin of his, those bouncing curls you never got to touch because you were always so afraid it would seem too intimate.

“Please save your son. Please let him be okay.”

You spin on your heel and dart towards the exit.

Throwing yourself into a crowd of screaming people is jarring, but you push through. Shoving your shoulder into anyone who gets in the way, you sprint for the bridge. You throw open the door, grab Anna's shoulders and push her out of the way. She stumbles, but she doesn't even have the energy to say anything to you; when you glance at her, you can see her pale face and wide eyes, her hands trembling as she utters, “I don't know what's happening,” over and over, a woman traumatised before she's even seen the severity of the danger.

You turn back to the wheel and inhale deeply. You've done this before. You know what these controls mean. You have gripped this wheel plenty of times, steered this boat enough times to know what to do. Your hands tremble. Your mind is blank, but maybe that's for the best.

You grip the wheel. As soon as your hands make contact, that voice drifts back into your consciousness, startling you to reality.

“Son of Hephaestus is ours. In a battle, water always wins over fire.”

You grit your teeth and yank the steering wheel. Passengers scream, but it's not their screams you're focused on. In the back of your mind, like the sea nymphs are right behind you, you can hear them squealing as the ship is yanked from whatever grip they have on it; you like to imagine you broke their arms or something.

“Curse you!” they screech. “Mind your own business, mortal!”

You yank the wheel again. Anna flies across the room, crashing against the window, screaming your name, but you have to keep going. You have to dislodge the ship from their magic before they take over entirely.

You yank the wheel one last time, and finally the ship lurches forward. Passengers scream. Anna starts sobbing desperately, begging you for mercy, and the sound is heart-breaking; you don't understand why she can't hear the sea nymphs herself, because when they speak, they are clear as day in your head.

“I'm sorry,” you grit out. “I'll explain later.”

And then you slam your hand into that big red button on the dashboard. The propellers erupt, jumping into high gear. In your head, the sea nymphs scream. Outside, an explosion rocks the ocean, shaking the ship just a little bit before you press the engine button and send the ship forward.

For a second, the world is quiet. Your headache fades away. The passengers are all silent, waiting for the next heart wrenching move to be made.

You pry your hands off the wheel, spin on your heel and sprint out of the bridge.

On deck, people cower on the floor. There are head wounds, and unconscious individuals, and you promise you'll apologise to all of them individually when you next see them, but for now, you need to see Leo. You need to make sure he's okay. You need to know that none of that was in vain.

You sprint back to the outdoor deck, slipping only briefly on the water still crowded upon it. The ship rocks back and forth gently now, sloshing the water over the edge, making it easier to wade through it in search of the Valdez boy.

“Leo!” you cry out. “Leo, where are you?”

For just a moment, nothing happens. You are convinced the deck is empty. The tears erupt to the surface, spilling over your eyelids before you can stop them, because you're certain you've failed. You got rid of the sea nymphs – only by the grace of god – but you were too late to save Leo.

And then something flickers in the far corner, just behind an overturned barrel.

You squint, heart stopping in your chest. Part of you thinks you imagined it. That is until the flames flicker again, followed shortly by a groan of protest.

You gasp and dart forward. You slip to your knees in the water, grabbing the barrel and rolling it out the way. Laying on his side beneath it is Leo, blood pooling from his side, a tiny flame dancing in the palm of his hand.

You don't even question the fire right now – you can't. You press your trembling palms to the wound in his hip, biting your bottom lip in any attempt to look tough, but it's really no use – you're terrified. You don't know what you just did, how much damage you just caused, but you know for a fact it's going to take a lot of explaining to get you out of this one. You can already hear Arnold scolding you for letting Leo onto the boat, into your life. Someone like him is such a bad influence.

But then his soft brown eyes flicker open, and you don't really care.

A sob slips from your lips. Tears slip down your cheeks. When you speak, your voice wobbles, on the verge of cracking.

“I thought you were dead. I thought I was too late, Leo.”

He groans, more like a man getting out of bed than a man who's just had a piece of timber sliced through his hip. “I will be if you don't get me some nectar right now.”

You pull back. “What?”

“Nectar.” He clicks his fingers and points at his tool belt. “In there. Grab it for me, will you?”

You dip your trembling hands into his belt, plucking out a gold bar about the size of your index finger. As soon as Leo sees it's unwrapped, he snatches it from your hand and pops the entire thing in his mouth, sighing in bliss once he's swallowed it.

“You can let go of me now,” he says.

“Huh?”

He chuckles weakly, before wrapping his soft, gentle fingers around your wrists and pulling your hands away from his hip. Instead of letting you go, however, he holds them close to his chest, leaning his chin on your knuckles so the two of you can watch as the wound stitches itself up in slow motion.

Your heart thunders. “So you weren't lying when you said you were the son of Hephaestus.”

“I wish I had been lying.”

“I think it's pretty cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You swallow thickly. “Just don't be bringing that sort of trouble to my door again, or I'll throw you overboard.”

----

Leo got his own cabin once your parents saw the damage he took.

You were able to play it off as him having no part in the havoc. To your parents, and everybody else concerned, Leo was nothing more than a victim in the entire ordeal. Your parents lodged him in one of the spare cabins, giving him the medical treatment he needed, despite the nectar doing most of the job for him. All he was really suffering with was a bit of muscle pain, but for the size of wound he suffered with, you feel like he got away lucky in the end.

You've been visiting him most nights, just because. His company is nice, and he seems to enjoy yours, and the two of you get on really well. You kind of dread the day you're going to dock in Northern Ireland, the day he's going to clamber off the boat and never look back. He'll probably forget about you.

That thought really, really hurts, so you try not to think about it.

Today, you decide to bring him some croissants Anna made. The plate balanced in your hand, you raise your other one to knock on his cabin door, only to freeze when you hear someone else's voice ringing through the dimly lit corridor.

“So they just. . . killed the sirens on their own? Where the hell were you, Valdez?”

“I already told you, Jason, I was completely out of it. I got hit with a wave and went flying backwards, right into a piece of broken wood. It went through me.”

“Still. It's not everyday a mortal takes on a mythological monster on their own; how did they even see them?”

Leo sighs. His bed springs creak. “I have no idea, but it was incredible. They're incredible.”

Your heart flutters, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Sounds like you've lost the battle, Valdez,” the unfamiliar voice says.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. It sounds like you really like them.”

Leo pauses. Your heart thunders; you shouldn't be so anxious to hear his response, but you'd be lying to claim otherwise.

“I do.”

You close your eyes, biting your lower lip.

“Gods, Jason, I think I do. I don't even want to get off this boat.”

“Man, you can't just go travelling through the sea your entire life.”

“I know. I know.” Leo sighs again. “Maybe they'll agree to come with me; you guys are still sending that chariot to come pick me up from Northern Ireland, right?”

“That's still the plan, yes.”

“Do you think Y/N will come with me?”

This Jason fellow pauses. Part of you wants to burst in the room and cry out “OF COURSE I'LL GO WITH YOU” but you hold yourself back, because would you really ever leave?

Yes. Yes, you would.

“Ask them,” Jason finally says. “But Leo, you realise long distance could work, right?”

Leo scoffs. “Slow down there, pal. I don't even know if they like me back.”

“You just told me you saw them crying over you when you came to.”

“Emotions were high. They'd just killed some sea nymphs for the first time.”

“Take it from me, Leo – they like you. All evidence points towards it.”

Leo grumbles something beneath his breath before finally saying, “They'll probably be here soon, man, so I should go.”

“Oh yes. The nightly visit. Have fun. Be safe.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Bye.”

Jason laughs. “Bye.”

You take a few moments just to breathe; you're overjoyed, which is a weird feeling for you to have. The days following the sea nymph attack, you spent the majority of your time either in Leo's cabin or your own, struggling to come to terms with everything you did, all the people you hurt, the truth that was brought to your attention. It was such a struggle getting your head around it, and trying to certainly put you in a slump.

But hearing this piece of good news has lifted your spirits, if just a little bit.

Once you believe you've gathered your wits, you knock on Leo's door. He says, “Hellooooo?” and you enter, giving him the most subtle smile you can muster whilst showing off the plate of croissants.

He sits up in his bed, the quilt falling from his chest; he's wearing a pair of cloud patterned pyjamas, provided by the laundry department of the crew. He rubs his eyes, trying to pretend he's just woken up, even though you know better than to believe him.

You place the croissants on the table beside him before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He smiles at you, warm and a little bit awkward, so unlike the smiles he usually gives you. You can only assume it has something to do with the conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on.

“What's wrong?”

His smile falters. “What?”

“You look a little weird.” You lean back against the footboard, folding your arms over your chest. “Something you want to tell me, Leonardo Valdez?”

“That's really not my name.”

You raise a brow, waiting for him to answer the question.

He stares back at you, an eyebrow arched. “I really have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Who's Jason?”

Leo isn't even smiling any more – his expression is one of complete dread. “Are you kidding?”

You giggle, nudging his foot. “Who is he? A friend of yours? He seems nice. Can I talk to him?”

Leo throws his head back, crinkling his eyes shut as his cheeks burn a bright red colour. “Don't start. Did you actually hear all that?”

“I was outside the door with my croissants. Heard every word.”

“I'm gonna throw myself overboard.”

“You can't do that.”

Leo cracks open an eye, glaring at you like you've done something wrong. “I'll do whatever I damn well find necessary.”

“If you throw yourself overboard, I'll never get to go to Northern Ireland with you.”

Leo's head snaps up. “Wait-”

But you push on. “If you throw yourself overboard, I'll never get to tell you that I like you, too.”

“Y/N-”

“If you throw yourself overboard, I'll never get to kiss you.”

Leo swallows, eyes dipping to your lips. “Okay. You've got me convinced.”

You kiss him.

His hands travel to your jaw, calloused fingertips like butterfly kisses against your jaw bone. Your own hands find their way into his curls, a place they've wanted to be from the very day you met him. The kiss is small, timid, testing the waters more than anything else, but it's perfect just the way it is. Leo grins against your lips like he's won some award, the cat who got the cream. You're half tempted to pull away and tell him to stop being so cocky, but you decide against it when the feel of his lips drags you back to the moment.

You pull away. “You should have told me you liked me.”

“It works both ways.”

“Fair.”

Leo scoots over, patting the free space next to him. You bundle yourself beneath the covers, shoulder-to-shoulder with him, facing the cabin window; together, you watch the sea rise and fall, rise and fall, sending the mildly damaged boat to it's final destination.

“I can fix the hull, you know,” he says. “It'll take me an hour at most.”

“I know you can.” You tilt your head against his, inhaling deeply. “But I think I like you here a bit better.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “Guess I'm bedridden for a bit longer, then.”

----

Northern Ireland is really pretty.

Leo Valdez is even prettier.

He holds your hand as the two of you get off the boat. An emotional goodbye to your parents (and Arnold) has left your eyes puffy and your mood a little dipped, but your spirits are slowly beginning to rise with the realisation that a brand new chapter in your life has finally opened, and Leo is there to help you navigate through it.

He squeezes your fingers as the two of you stand on the harbour, watching your home drift back to New York. The stars sprinkle the sky, little rips in the night sky, slightly dulled by the street lights dotting the Belfast docks.

“You'll be back there soon,” Leo says. “I promise. I haven't kidnapped you.”

You laugh. You're always laughing with Leo. “I know. It's just different.”

“Yeah. I can imagine.”

You swipe a hand beneath your eyes. Your home is now a mere dot in the distance. “Are your friends here yet?”

“Probably.” Leo glances at his non existent wristwatch. “I can imagine they'll be making a pretty bold entrance right. . . about. . . now.”

On queue, a golden ball of light emerges from the night sky. You flick your eyes around desperately, but the harbour is completely clear besides you, Leo and the dock worker who is too busy tapping away on his iPad to pay much attention to the spiralling ball of gold currently impending upon the dock.

The chariot crashes to the floor, shaking the trees and the wood beneath it. Leo is grinning, his hand squeezing your own a little tighter in his excitement; it's been weeks since he last saw his friends, and from the stories he's so keen on telling you, his friends are more like his family.

“That's them,” he needlessly points out.

Together, you walk to the golden chariot. Six other demigods spill out of it, two of them slapping each other's arms, bickering about something.

“-landed a little more gracefully.”

“Oh okay, Percy, how about next time, you try controlling the wind with Frank snoring behind you!”

“Maybe I will! I'd probably do a better job than-”

Leo raises his hand. “Hey guys!”

All six of the demigods spin around, their arguments now ceasing to exist as they catch sight of you and Leo. A girl with choppy, braided hair takes one look at your joined hands and immediately covers her cheeks, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, I thought Jason was lying!” She throws herself into Leo's arms. “I'm so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Pipes,” Leo grunts. “Good to see you, too.”

“And you!” 'Pipes' squeals, throwing herself into your arms next. “You're so pretty! How on the gods green earth did Leo catch your eye?”

“Woah, okay!” Leo pushes Piper away, scowling. “Leave them alone for a bit, alright? We're both tired.”

“I'm sure you are,” the blonde haired boy in the purple shirt chuckles. “Come on. How about we go get some McDonalds?”

The big dude with the baby face narrows his eyes, glancing over his shoulder at the golden chariot. “Can we get that through a drive through?”

“We can if I drive!” Percy exclaims, snatching the keys off the blonde boy and darting to the front seat.

The other demigods grumble their horrors, clearly not pleased with the idea of Percy driving, but they follow him anyway.

Leo and you hang back a little bit. Leo squeezes your hand. When you look over, he gives you a wary smile.

“Welcome to the family, I guess.”

146 notes · View notes

feathered-serpents · 4 years ago

Text

The Siren

Statement fic, 3.2k, CW for: Implied suicide attempt, drowning, helplessness, death

___

Statement of Noah Ayers regarding his experience and survival of the sinking of the Andromeda cruise ship. Original statement given October 3rd 2005, audio recording by Jonathan Sims, head archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

___

It was nice walking in here. This is one of the only places someone hasn’t recognized me, or if you did you kept quiet about it. I like that. I was starting to think I’d have to wear a paper bag on my head everywhere I went, though I suppose it’s been dying down. I’m not trying to sound like I’m complaining most people are very kind and try to be sympathetic but...it’s not the best thing when you’re trying to put your life back together to be constantly reminded of what destroyed it. And I’m sorry about the tea, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I used to drink it but I can’t just stand the taste anymore.

I never really liked boats. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I had a full-blown phobia of them but on the rare occasions I did find myself on board one, the idea that I was miles from land and just a few meters under me is the endless dark abyss of the ocean kept at bay by a few inches of steel was- a bit unsettling. Combine that with a pretty hearty case of chronic motion sickness and well, you don’t get a sailor.

I laughed when my brother told me his wedding would be on a cruise ship. I even spent a few seconds in half-amused silence waiting for Jack to tell me the actual venue but no, he was being serious. His fiancé , Oscar, loved the ocean and he and Jack were going to get married on a luxury cruise in the middle of the Atlantic. It wasn’t like I could refuse to attend, in the same breath Jack named me his best man and offered to pay for my cabin on the ship. Sweeten the deal. I guess he thought he was being fair, he tried to spin it like it would be a free vacation. He always said I was too high-strung.

For what it’s worth I did try to have fun. It wasn’t like I was going to ruin my brother’s moment by being pettily annoyed that he couldn’t modify his wedding to my exact needs. I liked Oscar just fine too, I could grin and bear it for a week.

The Andromeda looked exactly like you think it looked. A big white ship with lines of decks and windows and doors on the side. Filled with twenty-somethings looking to spend a week in an alcoholic haze and lots and lots of old people. Did you know old people really like cruises? It’s one of those useless facts you never know what to do with.

I’m getting off track.

The point I’m trying to make is, you know how sometimes you’ll hear stories of people getting on a plane but just before they boarded they got this horrible pit in their stomach and didn’t get on? Then watched from the window as the plane takes off and explodes into a horrific, fiery ball of death? I didn’t get that. There was nothing off about the ship or any of the people, it all felt fine. When I got on the ship I was surprised to find out that it was so big I couldn’t even feel it moving. I thought if I stayed far enough away from the rails then I might be able to forget I was on the water.

I started to get excited. Maybe this really would be a vacation. My year hadn’t been great so maybe...maybe this could be the highlight.

I’m sorry it's just- I think about how I got a little excited and then keep thinking about how happy the rest of the guests were. The way Oscar and Jack looked when they stepped aboard. None of us knew.

Keep Reading

#tma #the magnus archives #long post #'didn't you just post this' hush

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maria-scribbles · 4 years ago

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glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part one

“and that’s sailor, our resident mermaid, shell collector, surfer chick, and all-around ray of sunshine. she’s always down for a kegger at the boneyard so she can show off her dance moves; they’re not the best but she doesn’t let that stop her from getting down. her mom owns the surf shop on the beach, that’s how jj and i met her when we bought our first boards when we were ten. she’s been part of the crew ever since.” ~john b routledge

pogue sailor flynn just wants to have a great time with her friends this summer and try to ignore the fact that her flight-risk dad took off again to gamble his life (and her family's savings) away in atlantic city, leaving her with a mom who doesn't know how to cope. between surfing at the beach and cruising around on the hms pogue for hours, it's easy to keep her mind off her shitty home life. what isn't so easy though, is trying to deny her feelings for her best friend, jj.

summary: the pogues hit the beach for a day of sand, surf, and shells. sailor commandeers a hat, willingly participates in cardio, makes bank, and has a heart-to-heart with jj.

word count: 4k+

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings: mentions of abuse/neglect/parental abandonment, swearing, fluff, a lot of flirting

a/n: hi there! i’ve had this little plot bunny in my head for a few weeks now and it wouldn’t leave me alone so here we are! this is the first piece of writing i’ve posted in a very long time so i apologize in advance if it’s terrible. i’m planning on this whole thing being at least eight to ten parts so get ready for the long haul! i actually split this into two parts cause my word count was insane and way too long for one post lmao. let me know what you guys think! title comes from “glitter & crimson” by all time low. also this is unbetaed, so i apologize for any mistakes.

another quick thing: i tried writing this with sailor as an unnamed or y/n reader but it just wasn’t the best. i adore fleshing out characters and i had so many good ideas for her backstory and personality that she kind of just wrote herself and i went with it. i hope you all enjoy reading about sailor as much as i enjoyed writing her!

~Masterlist~

part two | part three | part four | playlist

gif credit goes to @heapass

part one: catching waves

The beach has always been special to Sailor; the soothing crash of waves against the shore, the warmth of sand under her feet, the comforting feeling of salt drying on her skin. It’s where her mother taught her to surf, where her father taught her to dive, where her friends taught her that family didn’t always mean having shared blood. It’s her home, her place, her safe haven. Nothing is more perfect than a day at the beach with the pogues, her board, and a bucket for shells.

Today is shaping up to be one of those days. The weather’s balmy, the water’s clear, and most importantly, she hasn’t seen these many perfect shells in quite awhile. Sailor reaches out and grabs the delicate golden scotch bonnet from the ocean floor, inspecting it closely for any cracks or holes. When she finds none, she smiles and runs her fingers over its smooth surface, marveling at the way the sun’s rays filter through the water and make the entire shell shine brilliantly. Although she sells most of the shells she finds at her mom’s surf shop (or gifts them to her friends), this one’s going to be proudly displayed on the shelf in her room.

She scans the sand for her next target before pushing off from the floor and heading to the surface where Kiara floats on her board, legs dangling in the water as she watches the rest of their group surf.

“Kie, check this out! It’s a scotch bonnet!” She exclaims, placing the shell beside the half full bucket in front of her friend. Resting both arms on the board, she lets herself take a quick breather as the other girl gently picks up her treasure and turns it over in her hands.

“Holy shit, how do you always find the good ones?” She asks, gently putting it into the bucket with the others as Sailor shrugs, tucking a wet strand of red hair behind her ear.

“You guys always say I’m part mermaid, so...” Kiara rolls her eyes and splashes her friend, who just laughs. “Are you done now? We can’t let the guys have all the fun.”

“Almost, there’s a gorgeous whelk down there that I have to have. Be right back!”

She dives before the dark haired girl can reply, swimming down twenty feet to where she spotted the shell. When she was younger, she used to find the pressure on her ears a bit painful but now she hardly notices, instead focusing on the muffled sound of the waves above. Down here it’s just her and the water: peaceful, quiet, and oh so beautiful, infinitely stretching out in front of her. It used to scare her, the vastness of the deep ocean, the secrets lurking in its depths, the unknown. Now, it brings her comfort. Inspiration. Hope.

She plucks the shell from the sand and heads back the the surface, where three more boards have joined Kiara’s. She swims straight under Pope’s, knowing he’s the most ticklish of the group, and runs the tip of the whelk along the sole of his foot. His yell is so loud she can hear it clear as day under the water and she laughs bubbles as his board wobbles before he topples over with a splash. The other three are still laughing as she surfaces beside her fallen friend and feigns shock.

“What happened? Did he touch a fish again?”

“Oh ha fucking ha. So funny.” Pope deadpans but he’s smiling as Sailor holds his board steady so he can climb back on. “I’m surprised you actually touched my foot, Miss Feet Are Disgusting.”

“First off, smelly, dirty feet are gross. And second, I didn’t,” She replies, pulling herself onto JJ’s board without warning and laughing as he nearly falls off just as Pope had. She sticks her tongue out at him as he shoots her a mock glare and shifts closer to he for balance, their knees knocking together.

“This did, here.” She holds the shell out to Pope, who inspects it like Kiara had done earlier and nods in approval before passing it off to John B.

“It’s...nice, right? It’s a good one?” He asks as he hands it over to Kiara. She meets Sailor’s eyes and shakes her head, mouthing ‘boys’ while carefully placing the whelk in the bucket.

“Seriously, JB-”

“Whoa, wait! I don’t get to see it?” JJ pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and Sailor fixes him with a flat look.

“I seem to remember that you, like a damn child, dropped and broke the last one I let you hold.”

John B laughs so hard he nearly falls off his board while Pope and Kiara glance at each other and hide matching snickers behind their hands. JJ has the decency to look embarrassed as he pleads with her and she tells herself that the slight flush creeping up the back of his neck is just from too much time in the sun, nothing more.

“Hey, I said I was sorry for that and I meant it! I swear I’ll be more careful, please, Sail?”

Trying her best to ignore the little thrill she feels at the sound of her nickname coming from his mouth, she relents with a sigh, “Fine, on one condition.”

He looks at her expectantly as she holds up one finger and points at the black hat turned backwards on his head.

“Gimme that, I can feel my scalp burning as we speak.”

“Holy shit, you’re such a fucking ginger,” He laughs but pulls the cap off anyway, running a hand through his blond hair before fixing it on her head properly, the bill facing forward and giving her eyes a much needed break from the bright summer sun. She only hopes her face feels hot as he lays one hand on her knee and holds the other out to Kiara, palm up. “Fork it over, Kie.”

Kiara hands it to him with a roll of her eyes and then fixes Sailor with a pointed look that the redhead pretends not to see; instead, she watches JJ carefully turn the shell over in his hand before holding it aloft, like Rafiki held Simba in The Lion King.

“Listen up, class- especially you,” He says, the hand resting against her leg pointing at John B, who looks affronted at being called out, much to the amusement of the rest of the group, “This here is a lightning whelk and yes, JB, as a matter of fact, it’s a great one. No holes, minimal damage, and defined markings. Ten out of ten would recommend.”

He passes the shell to Kiara with a satisfied grin as everyone sits in stunned silence, just bobbing up and down with the waves until Pope finally says, “Damn. Better watch out, Sailor! We’ve got a new shell expert in town.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m not giving up the crown that easily.” As the others burst into laughter, she turns to JJ and pokes him in the side, asking, “Since when you know so much?”

The look he gives her is all mock offense, but his blue eyes are soft as he says, “I always listen when you talk, you know.”

His answer catches her so off-guard that she tries and fails to form a coherent reply as her face flushes before settling on giving him a sweet smile, which he returns with a playful tug on one of the tiny braids in her hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Kiara staring at them with a devious smirk on her face and she knows she’ll be hearing about this later.

“Enough shell talk- no offense, Sail,” John B says, steering his board toward the waves. “We’ve got surfing to do.”

Sailor waves her hand dismissively then reaches over and grabs the bucket from Kiara. “None taken, I’m just gonna drop these off at the shop real quick and I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go with,” JJ says, popping up onto his knees and turning his board toward the shore. “After all,” He yells toward the rest of the pogues over his shoulder, “you guys need all the practice you can get!” He winks at Sailor and she laughs as she turns to face forward, pulling her legs onto the board and placing the bucket in her lap while the other three flip him off in perfect unison.

The two teenagers paddle toward the beach together and catch a small wave that shoots them straight to shore. JJ holds the board steady as she hops off and then touches his shoulder in thanks before they walk toward where Sailor’s own board is propped in the warm sand with their things. She puts the bucket down and kneels beside it, carefully digging through the haul to find the scotch bonnet.

“There you are, gorgeous.”

“I didn’t go anywhere, babe.”

She snorts at JJ’s quip but doesn’t give him the satisfaction of looking up from wrapping the shell in a small towel and placing it in her backpack (she does blush though, and hopes he doesn’t notice.). As she stands to pull on her shorts, the redhead can’t help but glance at the lightning whelk, sitting pretty in the sand where she put it while looking for the bonnet. It really is beautiful, a ten out of ten as JJ put it, and damn it, she just can’t let it go to some touron who won’t appreciate it. So before she can change her mind, she kneels again to wrap it in another towel and gently nestles it alongside the other shell.

“Chop chop, time’s a wastin.’“ He says, grabbing the bucket with one hand and holding the other out to her; she rolls her eyes but takes it anyway and lets him pull her to her feet, muttering, “Jesus, you’re impatient.”

“It’s all part of the charm. Come on, race ya!” After a quick squeeze to her hand, he drops it and takes off running toward the shop without warning, leaving Sailor scrambling to catch up as she yells, “If you break those shells you’re buying them, Maybank!”

The duo weaves through the crowd of tourons and natives alike, ignoring the dirty looks thrown their way as they run by, kicking sand up in their wake. Fifty feet ahead stands The Sandbar Surf Shop in all its salt-weathered, sun-bleached glory, all but two of the rental boards gone from the stand out front. Alison sits on a stool with one of them on her lap as she waxes it, the boom box resting on the floor beside her blasting The Beach Boys as usual. She looks up in surprise as Sailor bounds onto the deck and slaps her hand against the shop’s door a few seconds before JJ does, both teenagers out of breath.

“Sweet victory!” The redhead shouts, sending a quick wave toward Alison, who returns it with an amused smile and watches the blond roll his eyes, holding the shell bucket close to his chest like a football.

“Victory my ass! I saw you jump over that cooler and that’s cheating.”

“Oh, I cheated? Who gave himself a head start? Oh yeah, you!”

Alison returns the now waxed board to the rack and wipes her hands on a spare rag. “Sounds like you both cheated, so no one wins.” She says with a shrug, chuckling to herself as they both stutter excuses and follow the older redheaded girl into the shop, empty sans for a young boy browsing the display of shells.

“I’ll get your mom.” She says to Sailor before heading through the beaded curtain to the back room and she’s grateful. She doesn’t think she has the strength to go back there anymore.

“I was carrying extra weight,” JJ says, placing the bucket onto the old surfboard-turned-counter and then leaning his back against it, “so I think the head start was justified.”

Sailor props her chin in her hand and drums her fingers along the board’s worn surface, her eyebrow raised. “And I think my jump was justified considering I had some ground to make up from that head start so...”

“Agree to disagree.” They say together, sharing a quick smile before he picks a pair of heart shaped glasses from the stand and puts them on, looking at her over the neon pink frames as he asks in a high-pitched British accent, “What do you think, darling? Too much?”

“No, I think they’re quite dashing!” She bursts out laughing as he strikes a vogue pose, then spins and dramatically leans back against the counter. “Rock that pink.”

“Hell yeah, fuck gender norms!” He says loudly, both middle fingers raised toward the roof.

“In this house, we stan non-toxic masculinity-” she starts, but she’s interrupted by a stern voice from behind the counter that says, “If you’re not going to buy those, put ‘em back, kid.”

Sailor’s mother sweeps into view and stares pointedly at JJ, who hastily stands up straight and returns the glasses to their place on the display as Alison silently heads back outside, shooting both teens a small, awkward smile.

“Sorry, Mrs. Flynn.”

Sailor wants to tell him there’s nothing to apologize for, that he did nothing wrong, but she knows he already knows that, so instead she just scoots a little closer and presses her hip against his. His hand moves to rest on her lower back in thanks and her whole body feels the sparks from his touch.

“I-I found some good ones today, Mom.” She says, pulling shells from the bucket one by one and lining them up on the counter. “A few coquinas, some scallops, a whelk or two...”

She trails off when Carmen doesn’t respond and looks down at her hands, twisting her fingers together anxiously as her mother inspects each shell. her face blank. JJ’s thumb starts to run tiny circles on her back and she concentrates on the feel of his ring, warm and soothing against her bare skin, instead of the fact that her mother hasn’t even glanced her way yet. She hasn’t looked her in the eye in almost three months.

The silence is thick in the air until Carmen finishes her evaluation and gives a small nod in her daughter’s direction. “Good job.” She says, heading to the register and pulling out some cash before counting out five twenties and holding them out to Sailor, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere over the teenager’s shoulder. She swallows thickly and takes the money with a near inaudible thank you, slipping it into her back pocket before grabbing the now empty bucket and nudging JJ toward the door with her hip.

As she’s about to cross the threshold she pauses with one hand on the door frame and turns back, asking, “Hey, Mom? Are...are you gonna come home tonight?”

Carmen’s brown eyes only meet her green ones for a split second before she looks away to fiddle with the register and Sailor can’t help feeling the dull stab of disappointment as she says, “Oh, um, I don’t think so. I’m pretty busy here with, uh, inventory, bookkeeping...”

(That stab used to be sharp as a knife, cutting her to the bone, but she’s almost gotten used to the pain.)

“Oh, right. Just...text me if you do, okay?” She takes one last look at her mother, bathed in the cool shadows of the shop that’s tearing her apart before turning and stepping back into the bright sunlight without another word, her throat tight. She’s not sure Carmen was even listening anymore.

“See ya later, brat.” Alison calls to her as she lets the screen door swing shut behind her with a slight bang. The older girl may not be related to her by blood but she’s most definitely Sailor’s honorary big sister, having babysat her for years in addition to working at the shop, so she waves to her with a small smile and a “bye, ho” before joining JJ on the beach.

The duo slowly starts walking along the water together, a stark contrast from their earlier mad dash and Sailor’s mind races with a million thoughts, most of them her hating herself for foolishly putting a scrap of faith in her mom once again.

“Whoa, you okay? That bucket’s not going anywhere, promise.” He says, pulling them to a stop with a gentle tug on her elbow and reaching down to take it from her clenched hand. She doesn’t even realize she was holding it that hard until she sees the little half moons pressed into her palm from her nails and she sighs, rubbing them away with her thumb.

Opening up has always been something Sailor struggles with, even with a friend group as close as the pogues. She’s the one who’s all sunshine and good vibes, the one everyone goes to for cheering up, the one that’s always...happy. She’s the friend who listens, the open ear, the trusted confidante. She knows all her friends struggles: John B’s fear of being abandoned that often keeps him up at night, Kiara’s terrible guilt over leaving her friends behind during her kook year, Pope’s feeling of drowning under his dad’s impossible expectations, JJ’s abusive household that has him convinced he’s not worthy of love. Every secret she holds close to her heart, guarding them with impenetrable walls that no one can break through.

The walls protecting her own secrets, though? They may be strong around the others but they crumble like sand when she’s alone with the boy standing beside her, his hand still holding her elbow as he starts drawing circles on her skin once again. Talking to JJ has always come easy to her, almost infuriatingly so, and she has no qualms about calling him her best friend. While the other pogues know she’s been having some problems at home with her flight-risk dad and indifferent mom, none of them know almost the full story like he does, just as none of them know exactly how horrible his father really is.

(She knows. She’s seen the aftermath far too often and has been there each time, cleaning cuts, soothing bruises, holding him in her arms and never wanting to let him go.)

“I just...don’t know what to do anymore.” She can feel him watching her as she talks and she avoids his gaze like her mother avoided hers, instead staring out at the ocean. In the distance, she sees one of their friends -Kiara, she thinks- drop in on a wave while the other two look on a little further away. “She won’t even look at me and I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Hey, it’s not you, got it? God, you’re...perfect, Sail.” JJ says softly, so soft that the crashing surf nearly drowns the sound of his voice as the water washes over their bare feet. Sailor curses the fact that she blushes so easily because her whole face is on fire at his words, and she’s so distracted that she almost misses what he says next.

“Your mom’s always, uh, weird when your dad dips. It’ll be better when he comes back.”

Her heart clenches in her chest. If only it were that simple. She turns to face him and meets his eyes, blue as the ocean, open and honest, and sends him a smile that lacks its usual brightness. “I think you might be right, J. For once.”

His thumb stills on the crook of her elbow and she knows he knows she’s not telling him everything. She feels like she should say something, anything- apologize, explain herself, just tell him the damn truth- but before she can even open her mouth he says, “Listen, I get it.”

She can feel the hand on her arm start to slip away and she grabs it between both of hers, her voice tight as she says, “No, you listen. Today’s been...so perfect and I don’t wanna bring everyone down with my problems.”

“You know they won’t mind.”

(She does, but that’s beside the point.)

“I know they won’t, but I do.”

It’s her turn to run her thumb in circles on the back of his hand now as she continues, “I’ll tell you everything later, okay?”

“You don’t have to-” He starts but she smiles, genuine and bright this time, and cuts him off.

“I want to, J. And I will, promise.” Like a child, she holds her pinky out expectantly. He quickly glances down at her hand and then meets her eyes again before finally returning her smile, showing off that dimple that makes her heart skip a beat, and hooking his finger around hers.

“Come on, we’ve got waves to catch and friends to show up.” He says and just like that they’re back to normal. Sailor’s hyper aware of the fact that her pinky is still linked with JJ’s, but he doesn’t pull away as they start walking back to their things again and she can’t help but hold on a little tighter. She doesn’t think he notices until he walks a little closer, his shoulder brushing hers; out of the corner of her eye, she sees him smile and feels herself mirroring him without a thought, her cheeks turning as red as her hair.

Talking with him may be the easiest thing to do for her, but flirting comes in a close second. It’s natural: the teasing, the casual touches, and especially the clothes stealing (a good fifth of her sweatshirts probably actually belong to him). He’s the biggest flirt she knows, with that bad boy swagger and killer smile that make all the giggling touron girls fall over themselves to get to him. She tells herself it’s fine, that she’s so not jealous, when he dances with them at keggers on the beach, whispering things in their ears that make them blush, taking their hands and leading them away to dark corners or the spare room at the Chateau. After all, there’s the one golden rule of their group: no pogue on pogue macking, so friends is all they’ll ever be, all they can be.

She tells herself she’s fine with it, really. Being his friend is better than being nothing at all, and she wouldn’t trade his friendship for the world. Deep down though, she’d give anything to kiss him again -the first time was when she was eleven and JJ had just turned twelve, awkward yet sweet, the day she first saw the full extent of his dad’s abuse- but she holds herself back, unwilling to ruin the relationship that means so much to her. And sometimes, like now, she thinks (hopes) that he’s holding back, too.

Their pinkies linger together when they come to a stop at their things, both holding on just a bit longer than what’s considered friendly before their hands drop away. Sailor feels his eyes on her as she pulls off her shorts, money still in the back pocket, and stuffs them in her bag.

(So she just might’ve taken them off a little bit -okay, a lot- slower because he was watching, sue her.)

“I hope you know this is mine, now.” She points to his hat before freeing her board from the sand and waiting for him to do the same, hand on her hip.

“It looks better on you, anyway. Here,” He says, taking a step closer and reaching up with one hand to turn the cap backwards. “Don’t want you to lose it.” His finger brushes along her jaw when he drops his arm and she feels her breath catch as she replies, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

JJ smiles at that, then nods toward the waves. “Race ya? I’ll play fair this time.”

“Nah, but I’m glad you can admit that you cheated!” She says, pausing for a second to laugh at the way his jaw drops before she takes off running and leaves him hurrying to catch up. “I’m proud of you!”

“I changed my mind, I want my hat back now, Flynn!” He yells after her and she just laughs harder as they splash into the ocean.

tagging some of my fave writers ❤: @pogue-writings @o-b-x @jjbabyouterbanks @heywards @obxsummer @jjmaybanky

let me know what you think!

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fic #jj fanfic #jj x oc #obx fic #my fics #outer banks fanfiction #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #obx imagine

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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March 8, 2021: The Thief of Bagdad (1940) (Part One)

ARABIAN NIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHTS

Aladdin is actually the first film I ever saw in theaters, according to my Mom, and I do adore this movie. In case you’re wondering, I thought the remake was...OK. Not great, not terrible, but...not bad, y’know? But yeah, I love this movie, even if it’s not exactly the most accurate to the original story of Aladdin presented in The Book of One Thousand and One Nights.

Interestingly enough, though, this movie instead takes from a much more recent, much newer source for a lot of its inspiration. And this is going to begin a chronologically-ordered foray into cinematic fantasy. So, back to 1940, in a time period where fantasy films began to explode in popularity, thanks to one film that came one year before.

Yup. The Wizard of Oz, considered one of the greatest films of all time, is still a classic that holds up today, as well as being arguably the most high-profile fantasy film in all of film history. But a year later, Hungarian-British film director Alexander Korda came out with an often-forgotten film: The Thief of Bagdad. Which was ACTUALLY a remake of a silent film from 1924!

But I’m going with the 1940 British film instead! And honestly, I’m excited enough to just get started here! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

Before I get into all of this, I think I need to say this at the jump: this is a film from 1940. Most of the main actors are White. Yeah. Duh. Not ALL of the are, but the two love interests definitely are, alongside the villain. And NONE of the actors are from the region that the film takes place in, except for possibly the extras. So, yeah, thought I should bring that up before anything else. ANYWAY

A ship pulls into port somewhere in ancient Arabia, and before we start here...I can’t even SLIGHTLY comment on the authenticity of this film, costume wise. But in the meantime, I can at least enjoy the color of this film, which are beautifully bright and technicolor.

A mysterious man has come into port, seeking a sleeping princess and a blind beggar. I won’t say the name of the traveler yet, as I don’t know it from the film itself as of yet. He and a young woman named Halima (Mary Morris) go into town to find the blind man, named Ahmad (John Justin).

Speaking for the mysterious traveler, Halima invites Ahmad to a palace, alongside his trusty dog, Abu (a good boy). At said palace, a princess is afflicted with a ceaseless sleep. The man would appear to be an advisor of some kind, and also does not know how to end her sleep. She is apparently in love with the blind beggar.

Said blind beggar is being attended to by many maidens, and to them (and the advisor), he tells a story of his dog’s past life, a street thief also named Abu (Sabu), who’s stealing food, pursued by a group of angry salesman and citizens. He parkours away from them all, keeping one jump ahead of the bread line.

There will be MANY Disney puns, I’m warning you now.

From a rooftop, he sees the young Sultan of the kingdom, Ahmad’s past life, named...Ahmad. He is accompanied by his Grand Vizier: Jaffar (Conrad Veidt). Yup. Really. Also, he’s the same guy playing the advisor from earlier, meaning that this is also HIS past life. Neat!

Like a Vizier do, Jaffar whispers in Ahmad’s ear, trying to get him to do less-than-great things in order to show his power. Ahmad, however, is a kind man, who wishes to show such kindness to his citizens. He goes into the city that night, with Jaffar’s encouragement, in order to discover more about his people. He begins this by listening to a sermon, prophesying that the tyrant Ahmad will fall to Allah’s will. Awkward.

Not that it’s about to matter, since Jaffar tells his men to arrest Ahmad, as he’s now dressed as a citizen, and to claim that he’s a madman if he claims to be the Sultan. It works, and Jaffar is crowned Sultan as Ahmad is thrown in prison. It’s there that Ahmad meets Abu, who’s also been arrested. A madman and a thief.

The two plot to escape from the jail, and Ahmad learns that he’s presumed dead by the populus. After Ahmad realizes that Ahmad’s not mad, but the actual Sultan, they decide to flee to the kingdom of Basra by travelling down the river for three days. Time for a cruise!

We skip ahead quickly to the glorious city of Basra, which is...impressive. It’s genuinely gorgeous, and it was filmed in...THIS ENTIRE THING IS A SET? HOLY SHIT!!! That is legit impressive, goddamn. In Basra, Abu trains Ahmad in the way of subtle thievery and trickery, and they learn of the Sultan of Basra, who has the world’s largest collection of toys, like a proper nerd. He guards his toys more carefully...than he guards his daughter. Well, OK!

Speaking of the Sultan’s Daughter, a commotion clears the marketplace in order to clear a way for a procession, at the center of which is the beautiful Sultan’s daughter, Jasmine. No, not really. But considering that she’s only credited as The Princess (June Duprez)...I’ll be referring to her as Jade.

Attended to by Harlem Renaissance legend...the Singer (Adelaide Hall, who is one of the big figures from the early days of jazz), Jade would appear to be a somewhat bored young women, disaffected by her upper-class life. So, yeah, Jasmine. And Ahmad is, of course, wildly in love with her at first sight.

Ahmad has to see her again, and when Abu notes that they have tickets on a ship helmed by Sinbad the Sailor (trying to set up a 1001 Nights Cinematic Universe, nice), Ahmad insists that he has to see Jade again. Abu agrees, and helps him get into the palace garden.

There, he pretends to be a genie in a pond, using reflections while he hides in a tree. She falls for it (somehow), and he just simps all over her. She notes that she’s come to the pond to bathe, and he notes that he’s paid good money for his OnlyFans subscription, and wants some of that sweet, sweet bathwater. Which sounds like a semi-topical humorous exaggeration, but is BASICALLY THE TRUTH I SWEAR

He reveals himself to be a real live simp, and she responds by IMMEDIATELY kissing him. Goddamn, they’re fuckin’ perfect for each other. They agree, but her father will not be pleased. Still, they pledge to see each other again. Which pisses off Abu, because now he can’t go on that trip and set up this film franchise. He agrees to stay with Ahmad to help him get Jade.

Which is gonna be WAY goddamn harder, since Basra has a new visitor in the form of the usurper, Jaffar. He’s come to meet with the Sultan of Basra (Miles Malleson), a man who is absolutely obsessed with toys, big ol’ nerd that he is. Which, again, is SUPER used in Aladdin. To win over the Sultan’s favor, Jaffar brings in a mechanical horse. And that horse can FUCKING FLY WHAT THE SHIT

And this is when the GF (she says hello) informs me that this is ANOTHER REFERENCE to One Thousand and One Nights! Apparently, there’s a flying mechanical horse called the Ebony Horse, given to a King! It really IS a 1001CU! But back to the original story, and the Sultan WANTS the goddamn horse. In exchange, Jaffar wants only one thing: his daughter. And he immediately agrees.

She ain’t havin’ that shit, and she tells one of her handmaidens to find Ahmad in the garden, and tell him to meet her in Samarkand (another reference!), where she flees to avoid the forced wedding to Jaffar. However, that message doesn’t get to Ahmad soon enough, and he’s arrested in the garden by the palace guards, along with Ahmad.

Overjoyed to finally be able to stab the EVER-LOVING FUCK out of Jaffar, he tries to tell the truth to the Sultan. However, Jaffar uses his magic to...make Ahmad blind. Abu tries to tell the truth instead, only to be...turned into a dog. Wait...it’s not past lives? THEY’RE LITERALLY THE PRINCE AND ABU? Abu is a FUCKING DOG? Damn.

Back in the present day, Ahmad finishes his story, where the maidens tell him of Jade’s fate: she was caught by slave traders and brought back to Basra, where she quickly fell into a trance that she hasn’t awakened from. Although, she apparently still talks in her sleep about the Genie of the Pool.

They take him to see her, and she IMMEDIATELY wakes the fuck up! The two embrace, reunited at last, only for that reunion to be interrupted by Halima, sent by Jaffar to “end the masquerade”. That can’t be good. She takes Ahmad away under false pretenses, and she’s told that she can cure his lost sight by seeing a doctor. Ahmad leaves Abu with her, for protection.

However, this whole thing was just to get Ahmad to wake Jade up, so they could kidnap her and put her on a ship back to Basra. He throws Abu overboard (MOTHERFU-), and goes to speak with the Princess. As she notes that she was roised a cure to Ahmad’s blindness, he claims that the second the two of them embrace, Ahmad will see again. Damn...dude really wants a hug, huh?

AND IT WORKS! Not only is Ahmad able to see again, but Abu is a human again, as both of their curses are broken by a fucking hug. Um...somebody hug this man. Goddamn. The Hays Code is STRONG with this one, holy shit. And it’s ESPECIALLY weird, because Jaffar literally admits that he could MAKE her love him, but wants her true love instead. Um...fuckin’ YIKES, buddy.

As she runs away, he pursues her outside, and they look out to see that they’re being followed in a boat by Ahmad and Abu. And then Jaffar pulls an Elmer Fudd, and goes “NOWTH WINS BWOW”, and summons a storm after the two on the sea.

GREAT place to pause, I think! See you soon, in Part Two!

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supposed2bfunny · 4 years ago

Text

2doc Week Day 4-Song Machine

It’s cloudy.

No, cloudy denotes clouds. Smoggy, then. All car exhaust and factory fumes. The water is still, but there’s enough movement that the waves slap against the side of the boat every so often, resulting in a familiar, pleasant, wet sound.

Murdoc lies on his back, hands folded atop his chest, ankles crossed, staring at the bright spot where the sun is attempting to bore its way through the grayish sky.

He and 2D have been sitting in the boat in silence, though the singer has been moving enough for the two of them, playing with his sailor’s cap, untying his neckerchief and stuffing it into his pocket, scratching his ankle, lighting a cigarette and ultimately flicking it into the water.

“So this is it, huh?” Murdoc asks at length when he gets sick of watching 2D struggling in his periphery.

“What?”

“This is what I missed out on?”

“Well I mean, it’s a little more fun when you’re driving around fast-like, but the sound of the motor gives me a headache. And it was fun with Damon too; he’s fun.”

“Yeah. Love that bloke,” he deadpans.

“Murdoc. Do you feel better now?”

“I feel like a million bucks, mate, never better, I haven’t felt this spry since that doctor prescribed me all that Vicodin when I slipped a disk lifting Noodle’s amp—”

“Muds.”

2D shifts, looks down at him, and when their eyes meet, Murdoc is forced to confront the fact that yes, they’re here for him. To humor him the way a parent humors a child after a particularly vicious meltdown. “Well, look at it like this: what did you think taking me out here on the boat after the fact was going to accomplish, sunshine?”

“I brought you here to make it up to you, you nob. Because you made such stink about not being invited last time even though you could have come along if you’d only asked, had my damn phone on me.”

“Stu, you can’t recreate an event that’s already passed by bringing me here like it’s a bloody date.”

He stretches his foot out, knocks it against Murdoc’s shoulder. “You sure? A date on a boat sounds kind of romantic.”

Murdoc sighs and hoists himself up into a sitting position: the garish lighting is hurting his eyes: he wishes he’d thought to pack sunglasses. He can only imagine what kind of migraine the bright glare is going to trigger for 2D. But now isn’t the time to play mother hen. “Does it? Cuz you don’t look nearly as relaxed or happy as you did in that Désolé video, mate.”

He draws his foot back, knees folding in towards his chest. “Muds, look. I’m allowed to have fun without you. There’s no rule stating that I can’t. We’ve talked about the importance of autonomy.”

“And I’ve also expressed my disdain for that bloody word. I’m too old to bother being my own person: I just want a little of whatever you’re doing.”

“So that’s how you really feel, huh?” he snaps, jumping to his feet. “Muds, how many times do we have to have this argument? That’s not healthy!”

“Neither is smoking, Faceache! Neither is drinking half my weight in forty proof before noon! Neither is dating me, so if you don’t want to deal with it, then tell me to fuck off, same way you did when you all fucked off through that portal without me!”

2D reaches up to rub his temples, almost knocking his captain’s hat off his head. It’s never as simple as Murdoc sitting down and confessing that he’s been hurt: it’s always violent waves, outbursts cresting until they crash against the shore. He brought Murdoc out here to see what all the fuss was about cruising around on Lake Como, but now he understands: Murdoc is more like the water than he is like a captain. He is aqueous, ever moving, flowing from areas of high pressure, knocking 2D to and fro as he attempts to feel settled, grounded. The solution to understanding him is seldom obvious at first glance, because his very nature is to change his tune like an ebbing and flowing tide.

This entire outburst was never a matter of feeling left-out, it’s been paranoia from the start, Murdoc’s absurd fear that his own band is set to leave him behind one day, that same paranoia he’s been nursing since The Now Now took off while he was in prison.

“I’m sorry,” 2D says. It used to be hard to say those words. He’s learning to push them out more often, especially because that small concession is, more often than not, enough to start soothing Murdoc. “I guess we both thought we were going to get something different by coming here. Muds, what I did was fly all the way back to Italy to sit on a stupid boat with you for the day. It was probably stupid of me to assume that you were going to have a good time here—”

“‘Stupid’ is a damn gargantuan understatement if you ask me,” he grumbles.

“Don’t interrupt! Look, I didn’t come here for a fun, magical time with you, you cranky old man. I came here to prove a point.”

Murdoc looks at him warily. “And what, my blue-hued compatriot, is it?”

A suave, quick-witted man would be able to weave together an elaborate story on the spot. Hell, if he were even adequately sharp with words, he’d be able to lay on the charm, distract Murdoc from the tension and the muggy heat and the miserable sun glaring down through all that pollution. The longer he stares at Murdoc’s tired features, though, the more it dawns on him that he doesn’t need to do that. He has something much more valuable: the truth.

“I did all this shit to prove to you that you’re worth it.”

Murdoc snorts. “Wow, so even you admit it was a crap trip then. Sorry to waste a full day of your time with my selfish needs, Stu.” He makes sure that his bitterness comes across acrid enough to drown out any traitorous hurt that leaks into his voice. He’s getting weaker around Stu; words slip out unbidden almost every day, truths he doesn’t need anyone knowing, feelings and fears that he’s spent his life concealing easily behind his bigger-than-bigger-than-Jesus personality. Honesty with his feelings around Stu has rapidly evolved into an unconscious mechanism, one he now has to strategize to neutralize at every turn. “Really don’t know why you spent money on a flight, all that time packing, renting the same damn boat, even, if you didn’t want to fucking do it. You’re a real headcase, y’know that?”

“You done with the pity party?” 2D asks. “Because you’re misunderstanding. I did all this, and I would have done anything else, to prove to you that at the drop of a hat, I’ll re-create any part of my life to put you in it beside me.”

There’s a familiar clenching feeling in his chest, a tightness. Dread. Sometimes he feels it when 2D starts to make him hopeful too, because hope is a dangerous bit of deception that leads to disappointment. Cousins, the two sentiments are. Or even twins. He hates hope as much as he hates dread: he’s not about to fall for that shit, no way—“Dents. What were you just saying about our codependency being unhealthy? Those don’t sound like the words of someone autonomous: best check yourself or your therapist is going to give you a right spanking.”

The singer smiles, knowing that he has Murdoc now. His attention, his optimism. It’s all there, in his grasp if he can make like the boat, rock with the waves but remain steady, solid. “You’re wrong,” he says. “I won’t apologize for having come out to have some fun in February. We’ve told you why we didn’t trust you with the portal, but I still would’ve brought you along if I’d known how upset you were going to get. I had every right to have a good time with friends, but I am sorry that it sent you into one of your spirals, thinking I was rejecting you. Never, Murdoc. I would never. So here’s my compromise: for the moments you feel scared, instead of me trying to go back and re-create the past with you, let’s just make our own memories. Sound good?”

The bassist stares at him, dumbfounded. “Are you angry?” he finally asks. “That I’m being so selfish? Where’s your spine, Dents, your bloody vitriol?”

“You’ve always been a selfish prick: bit used to it by now.”

“But…but this flies in the face of all that shit about being more individualistic and—”

“Muds, I’m still going to spend time away from you,” he clarifies. “Have fun with Noods and Russ, might even give Ace a ring one of these days—”

“Oh sweet Satan, don’t call that idiot—”

“My point is, I’ll still do all those things. And then when I get back from my time away from you, whether you’ve done something productive with your life while I was gone, or just sat by the window waiting for me to get home, then we can do something nice too, maybe not a boat ride in Italy, maybe just like, having a few pints down at the Cock and Trowel, or going shopping, or trying that new cafe that opened up in SoHo to see how their pancakes rank on our Definitive List of Pancake Places—”

He’s interrupted by Murdoc lunging forward, arms going around his middle and head slamming into his chest. He grunts, hugs him back as the boat rocks with their sudden movement.

“How?” he mutters. “How are you always so nice to me? Every time I go and muck things up and say horrible things and tell you to break it off with me—”

“You’re a little dramatic,” 2D admits, nuzzling his chin against the thick hair pressed just below his head. “Pretty sure you told me I should call it off when you broke my favorite mug last week. It’s uh, not great. But I think when you say shit like that, it shows me that you really care about our relationship, that you value me, and you’re scared that I’m valuing you too much, because you don’t feel like you deserve it. I’m learning to understand when you’re just asking for help, idiot.”

“You really do spend way too much time with your therapist, Stu.”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” he teases, holding the older man closer, triumphant. “Stop throwing shit fits. Stop assuming everything I do is an attempt to push you away, and start looking at my behavior for what it is: a bloke who’s gone utterly mental and will fly you out to Italy at a moment’s notice to try and cheer you up after I saw you cry a little bit.”

Murdoc steels himself in 2D’s arms, braces himself to put forth the question he needs to ask. “And what do you get in return then, Romeo?”

“That bit’s obvious, Murdoc. I get to see you happy. That’s what makes me happy. I love you, remember?”

“I…” the words die on Murdoc’s tongue. What is there to say to that? He wants to talk 2D out of this…he knows he should. He’s being let off the hook because this idiot is convinced that they can keep going forward, that he somehow deserves 2D’s patience and love, even when he’s getting caught up in his own Twitter lies. Yet the singer’s words are guiding him out to sea, pulling him away with the strength of a rip current, and all he can do is succumb. It’s what he wants to hear. Maybe a part of 2D even believes these words himself, however ludicrous they are. “I…you already know how I feel about you.”

“Say it, twat. Or else I’ll keep you here on this lake all day just to torture you!” “Alright, alright, no need to get so Medieval on me! I love you, okay, Stu? I act out and cause a scene, and then I don’t even thank you for the impromptu Désolé 2.0 because I’m a shit, but I love you all the same. Maybe even a little more because you just keep…tolerating me. Happy?”

“Yeah,” he presses a kiss to the top of his head, and his tone tells Murdoc that he’s smiling. “So let’s go back to England, okay? This lake is pretty boring honestly.”

“It is dreadful, yeah.”

“Oh, while we’re here, maybe we should stop for pizza! Or some spaghetti or something?”

“Dents, we’re practically in Switzerland,” he laughs. “Why not hop the border and—wait, that’s it! I know the perfect spa we can go to together! Ever soak in a hot spring? It’ll change your life.”

“That sounds perfect!” he says. “Let’s dock this baby and get going—” he releases Murdoc and, ever-ungraceful, he stumbles as he makes his way towards the front of the boat. He yelps as his leg catches on the edge of the boat and his vision swirls first with the sights of the houses along the shore giving way to sky, and then the sky blurring as he hits water and starts sinking.

For just a moment, he processes everything as though it’s happening in slow motion, taking in the fact that his nice sailor’s outfit is surely ruined, that the water is colder than he expected it to be, wondering if any sea monsters lurk beneath the lake’s surface as he looks straight down into the black depths below him.

Then comes the irony. Yes, this is what time with Murdoc is like: filled with twists and unpredictable tumbles. Murdoc’s self-doubt and fears are still somewhat new to him: he’s spent most of his life assuming the man was fearless, only to learn that the bravado was a mask, that he’d been one of the few idiots to fall for it so completely. It’s something they must continue to work on, the selfishness, the manipulative words and the self-destructive explosions that follow them in Murdoc’s unhealthy attempts to self-punish.

How peaceful it is underwater, though. How familiar, this sensation, and how safe he feels.

His eyes have closed at some point to better absorb the feeling of being submerged, but he perceives motion right in front of him, bubbles.

Arms come around his waist, and he knows Murdoc has leapt in after him, that he means to swim to the surface, pull them both up onto the boat. He isn’t ready to come up just yet. Instead, he leans forward, presses his lips to Murdoc’s.

In the middle of the water, in the middle of a foreign country, they come together, holding one another tight, safe and soundless in the protective peace beneath the ever-lapping waves.

He always feels so complete like this, so blessedly whole when the warmth of Murdoc’s body is pressed flush against him. Time always seems to vanish in these moments as they share the last fo their breath, hair dancing around their heads like halos, bodies undulating with the motion of the water. For the first time that day, he feels calm.

#2doc #2doc week #2doc week day 4 #2doc week 2020 #niccalpot #2doc fanfiction #ooh this one is rushed but it was fun to write!

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