#like the depth of the dark blue ocean | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jjunieworld · 1 month ago

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THE LIGHTHOUSE ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸ 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!

the land has always been something you desperately wished you could walk on. be like the humans and walk among them. one dark and stormy night, you are granted your wish—but, it comes with a deadly price. and you only have one month to decide if you’re willing to pay it.

pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ strangers to lovers, angst, kinda love at first sight, smut, fluff, mermaid!reader, lighthouse keeper!sunghoon, magic, mermaid au, fantasy, early 1900s au inaccuracies, slow burn, slice of life, forced proximity, classic story of a mermaid washing up on shore with a twist, lighthouse / lighthouse keeper inaccuracies, the little mermaid references, slight smidge of horror elements

warnings ⸝⸝ death / themes of death, descriptions of harsh sea waves and storms, mentions and depictions of loneliness, reader has a lot of mermaid attributes, reader is new to the human world, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, sub / dom dynamics, a lot of skinship (they’re touch deprived) , really soft and desperate sex, a lot of yearning (sunghoon is always popping a boner), petnames (baby, darling, sweetheart, my pearl), clit stimulation, fingering, brief nipple play, creampie, riding, some aftercare (on & off page)

kipo’s note ⸝⸝ listen to the playlist (in song order) here!! hehe i spent wayy too much time on it.. (╯ ◡ ╰ “) i also spent too much time going into a deep dive on lighthouses and lighthouse keepers and how they worked back in the day,,, i hope that you enjoy!! ^^

͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 16k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙��𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

you knew that traveling to the surface was forbidden, but you couldn’t help the way that it called to you deep in the depths of the sea. like a moth to a flame, you swam and swam until you could feel the bright sun on your wet skin. until you could hear the sound of the waves crashing onto the nearby rocks and the distant chatter of the village nearby.

it filled you with such profound longing and want that the only thing that helped ease the feeling was to watch the way the landwalkers went about their days. you watched as giggling landwalking guppies darted from place to place and under their parent’s legs. as people shouted to passersby about the wares they were selling and people walking arm in arm.

you made sure you were always carefully hidden behind some rocks so that you weren’t seen and that your dark blue shifting tail blended nicely with the water. still, you watched and watched for what seemed like hours.

you wondered what it felt like to be able to walk on land, to feel the rocky surface beneath your feet. does it hurt? how does one stay upright? is land walking to the landwalkers the same as swimming to the merfolk? these were all questions you desperately wanted to know the answers to.

swimming away from the village’s edge, you waded through the fog along the ocean’s surface. you were just about to dive when a flickering light in the distance caught your eye. cautiously, you decided to see what it was.

landwalker’s buildings were already tall as it is, but this one was completely different. it pierced through the sky with a beacon of light shining from the top—almost like a second sun being held up. your eyes widened as you drew closer, ducking behind some rocks as you surveyed the area.

it was on a small island of it’s own, not too far away from the island the village sat on, but far enough that you’d have to swim for a short while to get from island to island. the building was white and a deep red color like coral on the seafloor. you stared in amazement at it, climbing up onto the rock to get a better look. a tiny building was attached to the bottom of it that looked like it had seen much better days. it was beautiful, you’ve never seen anything quite like it.

movement in your peripheral had your head snapping in it’s direction. the door of the small attached building swung open and a man carrying a box stepped out of it, the hat he was wearing nearly slipping off of his head and exposing his dark locks of hair. you ducked down on the rock a little, making sure that you were covered by the fog. he sat the box down near the entrance of the building just as a loud sound had you jumping out of your skin.

it was a deep, almost guttural sound. you tried to look for the source of it and saw that it came from the large horn near the small building. birds flew from their perches to a quieter place and you slid off of the rock, drawing nearer to the shore.

your father’s warnings rang deep inside you, yet you tried to push his words down. don’t go near the surface, my child. the dangerous landwalkers will lure you in and capture you so that you are never seen ever again. they cannot be trusted.

you hid behind some more rocks and watched him work. he kept disappearing into the small building and if you looked up, you could almost see him between the flickering light. if he wasn’t inside, he was out tidying the area around where he worked—stacking and fixing various things. occasionally, he would also look out to the sea, seemingly monitoring the waves and the fog before scribbling something down in what you think was called a book. when he did, you sunk down into the water until only your eyes and the top of your head was above the surface.

what interested you the most was how the man seemed to be alone. why was he so far away from the rest of the landwalkers? what made him different? what was this building that he was working on? you had so many question and so little answers—and nobody to ask.

you couldn’t tell any of your people that you watched the landwalkers daily. you would get into an enormous amount of trouble and would never be able to see the surface again.

instead, day after day, you watched the man work—no longer so curious about the ventures of the village landwalkers. the more you watched him work, muscles straining against his rolled up sleeves and brows furrowed, the more you noticed him. he was very handsome in a landwalker sort of way, the most beautiful out of them you’ve seen so far. you wondered if he had a life outside of this building on the shore. perhaps it was back in the small house a short walk away from the shore? was his whole life on this tiny island?

dusk fell and a cold breeze swept up the shore from the waters. you had spent the whole day again watching the man work at what you now knew was called a lighthouse. he was wiping the attached building of the lighthouse down after the recent rainstorm, frustratingly muttering under his breath.

you noticed that he didn’t talk much, only a simple, quiet word here or there. at first, you thought he couldn’t speak, until now.

“shit!” he hissed as he threw the rag down onto the ground. the paint was starting to peel off the siding on the building from the harsh winds and water. “now i’m gonna have to paint this whole building again.”

you giggled at his reaction. it must’ve been too loudly because his head snapped in your direction and you quickly sunk down behind the rocks. this was dangerous, you knew that, and it already seemed that you were getting too comfortable being out in the open. yet, you giggled to yourself more, more quietly this time as bubbles rippled up from the water. the man’s brows furrowed but he shook his head a little. “come on, sunghoon. don’t start losing it now,” he murmured.

sunghoon, that was his name. you surfaced from the water a little and tried his time on your tongue. “sung… hoon…” you spoke softly before smiling. “pretty.”

the light at the top of the lighthouse burned brightly against the darkening sky, signaling that it was past the time for you to start swimming home. you turned and began swimming away from the shore, starting your journey.

something sat heavily in the pit of your stomach and it was beginning to weigh you down. it was that same longing and want, this time more pronounced and refusing to be swallowed and digested. you stopped swimming and stared up at the bright, almost full moon in the sky.

you would give anything to walk on land. to experience life as a landwalker does and be on land. you didn’t want to be confined to the sea anymore. you didn’t want to have a tail anymore—you wanted legs. you wanted to be a landwalker, not a mermaid.

your heart racing, an old story your father once told you interrupted your thoughts. the story of a young mermaid trading her tail for landwalker’s legs.

it was supposed to be a cautionary tale, one to ward off small merfolk from intermingling with the landwalkers, but to you, it was an answer—one you were desperate for. the tale talked about how the mermaid visited a sea witch deep down in a cave at the bottom of the ocean and begged her to change her tail for legs.

the witch and her struck a deal: the mermaid was to sacrifice four of her pearlescent scales in exchange for a week on land. during said week, the mermaid had to find the witch various hard-to-find ingredients and bring it back to her by the end of it. if she didn’t fulfill her end of the deal after the week was up, her tail would come back and she would never be able to have legs again. only, swimming would not be as easy or as painless as it once was.

you made your decision. you were going to find the sea witch and strike a deal with her the same way the mermaid from the story did. what were a few scales and ingredients when you could finally walk on land? finally have your dreams become reality?

your next course of action was to find out information on where the sea witch’s cave could be.

instead of spending your time up at the surface, you instead kept beneath the water. you asked your family and friends about the sea witch in subtle ways, blaming your questions on your curiosity and love of storytelling. as days passed, the information you were provided pushed you more and into the direction you were hoping for.

it felt weird to be amongst your people again. you were so busy vicariously living with the landwalkers that you forgot how different interactions between merfolk and landwalkers were. instead of walking or running, it was swimming and tail flapping. instead of giggles, it was a flurry of bubbles and muted speech. merfolk swam with their tails on top of one another and their arms intertwined ahead of them. strangely, you felt out of place. everything felt so different.

you were going over the information you had gathered when suddenly the pieces all fit together. you twirled in excitement—the sea witch… you finally found her! you were going to have your legs that you’ve spent so many nights dreaming of, and you didn’t want to waste anymore time.

as the light rays dwindled, you quickly swam towards the location, sneaking past any merfolk who were still out of their seaweed beds. deep, deep down you swam and swam until you could barely see ahead of you. that was, until a sparkling light appeared and guided you—the witch’s torch.

you darted towards it, a nervous excitement bubbling inside of you as you drew closer and closer. when you reached it, a large opening with more sparkling lights beckoned you inside and you hesitantly followed them one by one.

the swim felt like it lasted an eternity as you twisted and turned until you saw a bright light that almost blinded you at first look. you swam towards it and surfaced from the water inside a decent sized pool in what looked like a rocky hut.

“ah, a visitor!” a voice said and you swung around. a woman—a landwalking woman—was in front of a shelf of various trinkets and knick knacks next to a table full of jars of spices and herbs. she turned towards where you surfaced with a bright smile that was all teeth. her dark, shadowed eyes widened and a chill ran down your spine all the way to the fin at the end of your tail. you could feel the waves of power radiating off of her, and it made your heart beat faster in a twisted excitement.

she was real. the sea witch was real.

she walked towards the pool you were in, “don’t get too many of those anymore, especially from the depths. must be all the stories your people tell of me.” she chortled and you tilted your head in confusion before realizing that she had made a joke a second too late. the witch waved her hand in the air at your silence, “i kid, i kid.”

pushing away from the shelf, the witch stepped towards you. her tattered dress was ripped at multiple points at the bottom so pieces of fabric hung from it and dragged along the stone floor. when she moved, the shells, sticks, and pearls she wore clacked together in an alluring harmony. she bend down at the edge of the pool so she was eye level with you, her messy hair fanning around her face.

“what deal did you come to make, little mermaid?” she asked, her eyes still wide and her smile still teeth.

you waded backwards in the water slightly, but stood your ground. you swallowed, willing your voice to speak. “legs…” you trailed softly before licking your lips. “legs,” you said, louder and with more confidence, “i want to trade my tail for legs. i wish to walk on land like the landwalkers do—be a landwalker like them.”

“legs,” the witch drawled out before tsking as she turned away from you in a large, dramatic motion. you grabbed a stone bowl from the top of one of her shelves, picking here and there at spices and herbs and trinkets as she moved about the room. “always the legs,” she continued.

your brows furrowed in worry. what if she didn’t accept your deal? what if she was too tired of giving foolish mermaids like you legs to walk on land with and denied your wish?

the witch suddenly turned towards you and you jumped. “as i’m sure you know, everything always comes with a price—and this is mine. i will accept your offer, but in return you must do something for me as well.” you nodded furiously, “y-yes! anything… i’ll do anything!”

the sea witch smiled and it lacked all of the playfulness she previously possessed. instead, it was almost cold, like she had flipped a fin.

“in one month's time, you must cut out the beating heart of the human you love the most and bring it to me.” the sea witch slowly leaned away from you, her eyes remaining on yours. “if you don’t fulfill your end of the deal, you will never walk on land again and you will never swim in the recesses of the ocean again. you will instead turn to seafoam and be nevermore. that is your price, guppy.”

your eyes widened in shock and in fear. “b-but, in the story—” the witch swiftly interrupted you, her voice harsh and grating. she leaned down to you again so fast you had no time to process it. her teeth were sharp and her eyes were almost fully black. “in the ‘story’ i gave that halfwitted thing a single day and every step she took felt like standing upon urchins. be grateful, girl, that i’m showing you kindness. now what will it be, do you accept?”

the clacking of her jewelry sounded like a ticking clock, urging you to answer quickly. “i accept!” you blurted. your eyes widened further and you gasped softly at your words. the sea witch’s sharp smile grew.

she got in the water and hooked her arms under yours and dragged you towards the stone floor. “yes, child!” she shouted and smoke rose all around you out of the bubbling cauldron you suddenly noticed. “a deal has been made—one you will die for to break! there’s no turning back!” she cackled loudly and she dragged you fully onto the ground, dropping you unceremoniously. you sat up, fear flooding your entire body as you froze.

“there’s no turning back! there’s no turning back! a debt to be made. the beating heart shall be mine! for all you have sacrificed will be paid!” the witch shouted, cackling to herself.

the room grew dark and the light from the cauldron shimmered off of your deep blue scales. before you could do much else, the sea witch plucked four scales from your tail and you hissed out in pain. she dropped them into the cauldron along with the trinkets and such from the stone bowl, mixing them all together with a hearty laugh.

you began to rise in the air and your tail started to tingle before becoming so unbearably hot. you screamed out in pain as the smoke clouded around you and left you blind to the rest of the room. from beyond the fog, you heard the witch shout, “tonight, a vicious storm will brew and take you on your journey. a month from now the same storm will return, with or without you.”

you could barely hear her between your screams. one by one, you scales started to be ripped from your tail, withering away into nothingness. the more you writhed in pain, the more it felt like your tail was being split in two. you rose further into the air and noticed the suspended pool of water hanging above you. suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. like your gills closed and you were suffocating. the top of your head rose into the water and despite not being able to breathe, you screamed—a shrill sound full of unabashed fear.

from the distance, you heard the sea witch’s voice again. this time she wasn’t shouting, but instead chuckling in satisfaction. she continued, “either way, i’ll have a heart.”

as you entered the water, you were whooshed into a current that helped you breathe again. you gasped in large breaths as you spun around disoriented. the pain you felt was unimaginable. your tail felt as if someone was ripping a leg off a starfish. except, instead of growing back the same, it was growing something else entirely. more scales ripped and withered off of you as your tail split.

you tried to think about the future. of how worth it this will all be in the end when you have your legs and you finally walk on land, living amongst the landwalkers—or humans, as the sea witch interestingly called them.

but, a thought prodded at your mind. the bargain you made and the heart you will have to bring back.

you didn’t think you could do it—didn’t have the stomach to cut out someone’s heart, but you had no choice. not anymore. who’s heart will you cut out? will you find some unsuspecting victim and force yourself to love them until you actually do so in the end you can rip out the heart they entrusted you with? it was all so wrong. what have you done?

the current led you to the sea’s surface and in the heart of the most vicious storm you’ve ever seen. waves crashed against you and pummeled you back down under the surface, yet each time you emerged again and again. harsh, stinging winds slashed across your skin, yet you remained unharmed. you hoarsely yelled out in pain and looked down at the beautiful blue tail you once had, the scales a myriad of shades. you didn’t even recognize it anymore.

instead what you saw was a half tail, half pair of legs monstrosity. it perfectly described where you were at this current moment—between the waves of the watery life you had been stripped from and being pushed forward to the dry land of the life you will come to know. in the distance you heard that loud, guttural sound that you recognized so well. you turned and saw the beacon of fluttering light emitting from the lighthouse standing tall against the storm.

a dark thought polluted your mind. you weren’t expecting to be spitted out so close to the village. you mind traveled to the man working the lighthouse as you fought against the waves to breath the cold air.

what if it was his heart you cut out?

no… you didn’t want to think that. didn’t want that thought to be true. anybody, but him. anybody, but sunghoon. you’ve grown too fond of him during the times you watched over him—you can’t let his already seemingly lonely life be cut short by getting his heart ripped out. you wouldn’t allow yourself to do that to him.

the tormenting waves seemed to have other plans for you. they took you directly towards the shore where the lighthouse sat and you started to cry.

shock jolted you as you felt wetness roll down your cheeks just as the rain started to pound down harder from a light splash. you touched your cheeks with trembling hands. the change was all too much too fast. you weren’t expecting it to be this way.

when you heard the story of the mermaid trading her tail for legs it was nothing like this. she emerged from the water like a graceful swan, a beautiful sunset behind her that reflected off the calm sea. you couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the lies you were told.

you didn’t feel graceful, you felt forsaken. this was a journey of death, not rebirth.

the closer you got to the shore, the more regret started to pierce deep inside you. it didn’t help that the storm clouds seemed to break so the moon’s light could illuminate just you. it all felt so unfair. all you wanted to do was walk on land, why must you endure all this? why must you love someone deeply only to rip their heart out? and why were the sea witch's waves so hellbent on that person being sunghoon?

why did excitement still flood in the pit of your belly at the thought of the life you may live after?

a second, smaller light flickered on at the tiny island you were heading for and you knew it was him. you watched as the small light raced towards the shore almost as fast as you were being pushed to it. the two of you were heading towards a deadly collision and you weren’t ready for it.

the waves spitted you out and you washed up onto the sand of the shore. you felt weak and dizzy and something else entirely that you couldn’t name or figure out. your stomach rumbled like the thunder and your head ached. you raised your head as much as you could and looked down at your new body. you were in so much pain that you almost felt numb.

sniffling a little, a laugh spilled from your lips and the corners of your mouth pulled upwards. you have legs. they may be painful at the moment and slightly numb, but you finally had them. you felt every grain against them and dug your legs further into the sand. the last remaining scales of your former life surrounded you like glittering rocks, you were surprised that they hadn’t withered away like the rest of them.

you looked up at the full moon, glowing and huge. like a pearl in the sky. you smiled wider before inhaling deeply. you felt brand new. maybe the whole journey was worth it in the end. a wave of sleep hit you and you struggled to keep your eyes open.

just as your eyes began to close fully, a warm light draped over your body. sunghoon’s worried face appeared in your view just as another wave of sleep overcame you, the ghost of a smile on your face.

as you drifted off into the unknown, the claws of regret sank into you again and it’s almost as if you could hear the sea witch’s cruel cackling. you can’t rip out his heart—you just couldn’t. you wouldn’t. because, unbeknownst to you, that fondness you held so deeply for him was already blossoming into something more. something dangerous.

it was a strange day, indeed, for sunghoon.

more of a strange week, actually. firstly, his assistant keeper was nowhere to be found, so he was on the small island all alone; manning all of the work and upkeep of the lighthouse on his own. as he went on about his days, sunghoon constantly felt watched—he even swore he heard a woman’s laugh before, saw the apparition of her along the shore, but it was just him. maybe it was finally his time to go mad like so many other lighthouse keepers.

now a vicious storm appearing out of nowhere? after his logs over the week have only shown mostly clear skies? it was all very strange to him.

even stranger was what sunghoon saw in the storm as he scanned the waters for any possible boats or ships. a woman, illuminated by a beam of moonlight, fighting against the waves and crashing upon his shore like some holy being. the storm came so fast he barely had time to get from his bed and light his oil lantern to go out and try to assist her.

that where sunghoon was now, holding his lantern over your bare body as he worriedly looked over you for any injuries. you seemed completely unharmed, surrounded by shifting blue scales with pearls in your hair. with skin slightly tinted blue and with slightly webbed hands, you almost looked… human—but, more ethereal and beautiful than anything sunghoon has ever seen in his entire life. you were prettier than any gibson girl appearance the women of the village sported.

realizing that he was gazing upon a woman’s naked body who he didn’t know, sunghoon quickly sat his lantern down in the sand as he shrugged off his wet coat. he laid it over you before hooking his arms under your legs and back to carry you back to safety in his quarters, making sure to grab his lantern to light his way back through the dark.

the closer to his small house and the further away from the shore he got, the storm simmered until he was at his front door and the skies and sea were almost calm again. very strange, sunghoon thought.

sunghoon laid you down gently onto his couch and replaced his coat for one of the thick blankets strewn across the back of the couch. you were completely out cold, and probably would be for a while. sunghoon shook his head in wonder as he stared down at you, “what happened to you? how did you manage to get caught naked and alone in the middle of a storm?”

his questions would have to wait for later. sunghoon rushed back outside and to the lighthouse. he climbed up the narrow winding staircase to the top and ensured that the lamp was still burning. after adjusting the flame, everything was back in order and the mechanism was spinning efficiently.

sunghoon sighed as he exited the lighthouse. thankfully, he wouldn’t have to do much cleaning up after the sudden storm. after logging everything that happened, sunghoon ventured back down to the shore—back to where he found you.

in the sand, he picked up some of the blue scales that had surrounded you and inspected them. they were somewhat transparent and flexible. when sunghoon held them out to the light, they shifted from a dark blue to a deep teal color. it only left him with more questions, but he pocketed them to ask you about later.

a yawn was ripped from his mouth and he looked out at the moon. if his calculations were correct, he still had a couple of hours until he had to be up again for the day. heading back to the small house near the lighthouse, sunghoon decided to go back to sleep until either it was time for him to wake up, or you awoke. there was no point in staying awake if everything outside was calm with no signs of changing and you were asleep.

sunghoon quickly ran upstairs and changed his wet clothes for dryer ones, making sure to bring some down for you to wear when you woke up. he sunk down into the armchair next to the couch, running his hands through his damp hair. sunghoon glanced over to you, sleeping peacefully, with a sigh. he just hoped that nothing else strange occurred.

he got as comfortable as he could on the armchair and yawned once again. sunghoon closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

you awoke inside a simply adorned house that you didn’t recognize. memories rushed towards the forefront of your mind and you recalled the events you just went through. the sea witch, your new—and no longer painful—legs, the storm, and sunghoon’s worried face. you slowly sat up and the fabric across your body fell off your shoulders and pooled in your lap.

you turned towards the window and looked out at the sky. it was still rather dark outside, but you could tell that dawn was not too far away. the light atop of the lighthouse still flickered like a beacon in the sky and there were no remnants of whatever storm brought you here.

the surface, you were finally on it. a smile grew on your face and you turned your attention back to your new legs, flipping the fabric off of you completely to gaze upon them.

they were absolutely glorious. you giggled a little as you wiggled the tiny fingers at the end of them. they felt unusual, but you supposed you would eventually get used to the feeling. another thought popped into your head, loud and demanding—sunghoon.

he was asleep in the chair next to you, uncomfortably twisted in it. you tilted your head as you looked at him. finally, you were getting a close look at a landwalker—human. you stood on your new legs, shaking and using the couch to stabilize you. you took a shaky step towards him, and another until you were basically hovering over him.

how fascinating, humans. they didn’t have any gills like merfolk did, nor the tinged blue-ish skin or tail. and from what you could tell their ears didn’t have any attached fins on them either. you touched your own ears, astonished at how different they felt before holding out your hand. they were still slightly webbed, but not nearly like how they used to be. it was all so… new.

your skin was soft and warm rather than cold, wet and almost slick. sunghoon’s hair also didn't sprawl out around him like yours did when you were underwater. instead, it covered his eyes in a dark curtain, resting softly across his cheeks.

you reached out your hand and brushed the hair away to see sunghoon’s closed eyes, fingers brushing lightly across his skin. he really was beautiful. your brows knitted together as the tips of your fingers dragged down his cheek. did all humans look like him?

sunghoon’s eyes cracked open and you gasped softly, pulling your hand away. you took a wobbly step back. you nearly fell onto the table if it hasn’t been for sunghoon quickly reaching out and grabbing your waist to steady you. you both looked at each other with wide eyes and complete silence. sunghoon’s eyes trailed your body and his eyes widened even more before he swiftly removed his hands from your waist and turned his head to the side, blinking rapidly.

“t-there’s clothes on the table for you…” sunghoon trailed, the sleep still in his voice, as he shifted in the armchair uncomfortably. his eyes darted to yours before looking away again.

you gave him a confused look before turning to the table. you held up the “clothes” he was talking about in front of you. you turned back to him with a puzzled look. “what… is it?” you asked. you stuck your arm through one of its various holes, confused on what you were to do with it.

sunghoon shifted in the seat more as he dragged his gaze to you. he took the pillow from behind him and pressed it down in his lap. “uh… i-it’s a shirt,” he stuttered, just as confused as you were. “you wear it?”

you lowered the shirt so you could look at him and sunghoon looked at the ceiling. “wear it?” you repeated. what is a “shirt” and how does one “wear it?” there was so much about a human’s life that you didn’t know. it made you excited to learn about it all.

sunghoon cleared his throat and his brows drew together more, like he didn’t understand how you didn’t understand what he was talking about. suddenly, realization dawned on his features and he slowly looked down from this ceiling so his eyes connected with yours. “yeah,” he said slowly. you could see the geysers blowing in his head the more he stared at you, his eyes shifting along your face and your hair. he glanced towards the door before settling on you. “have you seen them before?” he suddenly asked.

“from afar on humans, but never this close! we don’t wear things such as this. it’s soft,” you smiled. you then gasped, covering your mouth with your hand. you didn’t think it was wise to let him know that you were—or, use to be—a mermaid. your father’s words came to mind again, but, as you stared at sunghoon with wide eyes, it didn't look like he was dangerous.

after all, he did rescue you from the storm and gave you shelter. he is even giving you some of his clothes, even if you didn’t know what to do with them or how to wear them. maybe you could trust him with your secret before going off to the village in hopes of finding someone to fall in love with. treat it as a farewell before you leave him to ensure your fondness didn’t grow any further.

a smile grew on sunghoon’s face and as you stared at each other for another moment, you could see him put all the pieces together himself. “well, us humans usually wear a shirt like this,” he started, motioning down to the shirt that covered his chest. “and trousers to cover our lower half. you’re, uh, naked… right now.”

your brows raised in shock. naked? how were you naked? most of your pearls were still in your hair and your hair was relatively decent still. you were completely dressed.

sunghoon slowly stood. he grabbed the shirt from you and held it in between your bodies. “i’m not sure how things work where you’re from… but here, let me help you…” he lifted the shirt and pulled it over your head through one of the holes. “your arms go through the other two,” sunghoon murmured awkwardly.

he then very awkwardly guided you through putting on the pants and you quickly learned about balance and its importance.

“thank you,” you said sincerely as you smiled at him. sunghoon sheepishly smiled back, rubbing the back of his neck. “but, i must ask one last thing of you. the village… it’s dire that i get there as fast as possible.”

sunghoon’s smile dropped. you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. then, you started to make your way to the door, a lot less wobbly. the kiss was risky, but you couldn’t help yourself. sunghoon raced towards you, his arms out. “wait!” he called out.

he held you in place by your shoulders to stop you from leaving. “you can’t leave—not without someone guiding you, and i can’t leave the lighthouse. the villagers… they’ll eat someone like you alive down there. it’s not safe.” you could tell sunghoon wasn’t joking by the serious expression on his face.

what were you supposed to do now? “someone like me?” you asked.

sunghoon gave you an almost incredulous look. “you arrived in a storm completely unharmed and alive. when i found you, you were surrounded by scales and you wear pearls in your hair…” he trailed off, like the answer was blatantly obvious. “the villagers don’t believe, but spending time here, alone, at this lighthouse will at the very least have you questioning.”

your shoulders sagged. at least you didn’t have to hide what you were from him anymore—not that you were doing a good job of it anyway. “b-but… i have to go to the village!” you exclaimed.

“listen, why don’t you stay here for a while? i’ll teach you everything you need to know—human to mermaid—and after, you can go on your merry way and live amongst us on your own!” sunghoon said.

“you don’t understand.” you slumped down on the couch, crossing your arms. “it’s not safe for you, and i don’t have that amount of time.”

sunghoon quirked a brow, chuckling, “what? are you gonna eat me or something?” you stayed silent. he sat down on the couch next to you, “if you were, you would’ve done so on the shore or while i was sleeping. i promise that no angry mob is gonna come rowing here after you, you don’t have to worry. and, i’ll teach you everything as fast as i can.”

you sighed defeatedly. you just hoped it was fast enough for you to still find someone else. it couldn’t be sunghoon who’s heart you ripped out. ��okay,” you murmured.

sunghoon smiled brightly at you. “now, what’s your name, darling?”

“y/n,” you replied a bit hesitantly.

“i’m sunghoon, here at your service!” you laughed and he joined in with you. you almost wanted to tell him that you already knew, that you’ve been watching him, but you decided against it. it was best that he didn’t know. “sunghoon,” you repeated instead, like you haven’t already said it before, “that’s very pretty.”

“a compliment, coming from a pretty woman like you? well, it must be! thank you kindly, miss!” he smiled playfully and you rolled your eyes. there was a pang in your chest and you inhaled. thankfully it was covered by a loud growl, causing you to furrow your brows.

sunghoon’s face lit up in realization again. “ah, right. you must be hungry. let me fetch you something to eat.”

it’s been about a week since you landed in sunghoon’s care and time was ticking down. you tried to not think about how much time you had left, instead distracting yourself by helping sunghoon around the lighthouse, but it was near impossible. it didn’t help that since the two of you were alone on the island together, you both had no choice but to be in each other’s presence and get to know each other.

sunghoon has taught you a lot about humans throughout the week you’ve been here and in turn you’ve told him how things worked under the water. the two of you were fascinated by each other’s stories and that, in turn, only brought you both even closer.

the day was clear, and as sunghoon said, “it holds no signs of changing.”

“what do you say we row over to the village? get you some proper clothes?” sunghoon asked. “i don’t think you want to keep wearing mine.” he paused from the siding he was painting to look over to you.

you halted the paintbrush you were holding, looking at his clothes that you wore. “what? do they not look good on me?” you giggled.

sunghoon’s eyes widen, almost like something clicked in his head, but a smile grew on his face. he said nothing for a moment, just stared at you with a fond smile. “of course they look good on you,” he said.

you looked away, hiding your face, as you continued painting. “that would be nice,” you murmured, before speaking a little louder. “it would be nice to see the village.”

not soon after that, the two of you were climbing up the dock at the village together. you stuck near sunghoon’s side, suddenly overwhelmed by the busy life of the villagers. as you walked through the streets, you couldn’t help but notice all their stares—their dirty looks. you pressed more into sunghoon’s side and he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“a man’s clothes!” you heard the village women mutter amongst each other. “and her hair…”

you now knew what sunghoon meant when he said the village would eat you alive. you didn’t look how the village women looked and the difference was drastic and obvious. none of them had pearls intricately wrapped in strands of their hair or even had their hair down. their hair were all put up, with flowing skirts and modest blouses or fitted dresses that showed the curve of their hips that didn’t match the buttoned up untucked men’s shirt and trousers you wore. it was all so overwhelming.

by the time you reached the tailors, you were practically clutching on to sunghoon’s side. when you entered, every eye was on you. a human woman—who you assumed was the owner of the shop—rushed towards you. “oh, you poor thing! let me fix you up!” she cooed as she pulled you away from sunghoon’s grasp.

you looked back at him with wide, fearful eyes. “it’ll be okay,” he assured you, grabbing your hand. “i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

“this will take a while,” the woman said to him, before glancing at you. at least she didn’t look at you like the other women did. it was more with pity than disgust. sunghoon nodded, sitting in one of the chairs with his hat clutched in his hands. you didn’t turn away from him until your view of him was physically cut off by the curtain the woman pulled in front of your face and he didn’t look away either.

suddenly the woman had you out of sunghoon’s clothes and in long skirts and blouses. she had you try on various ones to gauge your size, along with pulling out what she called “measuring tape.”

once you had on an outfit she was satisfied with, her fingers hovered over the pearls in your hair, a look you couldn’t name in her eyes. “pearls are very beautiful? don’t you agree?” she asked as she turned to look at your face. you nodded, still a bit uncomfortable, as you cast your gaze downwards to the floor.

“all that hardship for beauty… for a simple creation,” the woman said. “i was just like you once, little guppy.” your gaze snapped to her’s in shock as her eyes stared at the pearls in your hair.

the woman continued, and you saw the sadness in her eyes. she nodded her head towards the curtain, “that man out there, he found you, didn’t he?” you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out, so you just nodded. “he’s already swimming down deep for you,” she said, “it gets easier, dear. when it’s all over, you come and find me, you hear?”

she said nothing else—nothing else about the fact that you both crawled from the deep in hopes of a new life. nothing about how she must’ve had to sacrifice the one she loved most in order to be standing in front of you right now. nothing about if it was worth it or not—and you so desperately needed to know.

instead, she carefully untangled the pearls from your windswept hair and worked them into the up-do she styled your hair in. as she worked around you, you noticed the single pearl in her own hair, and your heart broke in two.

once she was done and the curtain was opened, you all but ran back to where sunghoon still sat, just like he said he would. as you approached, he stood to his feet as he looked over you. his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. the woman giggled, winking at you, before leaving the two of you alone.

“better?” you asked him, glancing down at the new clothes you wore.

“you were already beautiful,” sunghoon replied, a bit breathlessly and flustered. you smiled and felt as your face started to heat up rapidly. his ears were a flaming red that made you giggle a little. sunghoon cleared his throat, blinking, “b-but, it’s a good hu—good look on you. do you like it?”

you thought it over for a moment, “there’s aspects of it that i like, some that i don’t.” you liked how intricate it all looked, a lot of it reminded you of the seabed. along with the colors—it looked like you wore a coral reef with the most beautiful and shimmering fish in it. you weren’t sure about how fitted it all felt, but you were sure you would get used to it. it bummed you that your hair was put up, but at least you kept your pearls.

“well, you can wear it all however you like when we’re back on the island, sweetheart,” sunghoon said, stepping towards you. he took your hands in his and smiled at you.

when the two of you walked back through the village, you still felt eyes on you—more snickers and muttering. on the row home you were quiet, which sunghoon noticed. in the house, he saw how the sadness twisted your features.

he guided you towards the couch, his brows drawn together in worry. “i’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice low. sunghoon watched helplessly as the tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him before sliding down your cheeks. you touched your fingers to the wetness, confused.

“what is this?” you asked him.

“tears,” sunghoon replied. “they happen when you feel an emotion deeply—like sadness.” more tears fell down your cheeks and you buried your face in his chest. sunghoon wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

after a few moments, you peeked your head out and looked at him with big, teary eyes. your eyes darted down to sunghoon’s lips before looking back up at him, your brows furrowing like you were in inner turmoil. slowly, you leaned up and softly pressed your lips to his.

sunghoon’s own eyebrows raised in slight shock. you pulled away the slightest bit, your lips still hovering near his like you were frozen. for a second, sunghoon was too. he then chases your lips, kissing you again.

you lips work in perfect harmony together as you kiss each other. like the past week has been building to this moment and it’s finally here and it’s perfect. his lips felt perfect on yours and yours on his. it was as if they were made for each other and you never wanted to spend another moment not kissing sunghoon.

his hand cupped your face and you sat up more, nearly in his lap, as the kiss deepened. you kissed each other like you were desperate. like the waves were crashing around you—and they were. the time you had left flashed in your mind and you ran your hands through his hair to distract yourself from the thoughts and instead focus on him—only sunghoon.

sunghoon’s hat fell to the side somewhere on the couch and his other hand slid down to rest on your waist. you kissed each other like you didn’t need air, or water, or anything. just each other. but you did, and you pulled away as heavy breathing overtook the both of you. not far, but enough so that you lips had the slightest distance from his. your thoughts came back full force, the sand in your hourglass falling and the sea witch’s cackling.

you shook your head a little, eyes still closed. “w-we can’t… this is too dangerous,” you trailed off in a soft and low voice, your eyes fluttering open and meeting his.

“i don’t understand…” sunghoon whispered. “what is so dangerous about it?” the pads of his thumbs wiped away freshly fallen tears. you shook your head again, pulling away from him fully and sitting properly back on the couch. sunghoon sat up straighter and placed his dropped hat in his lap.

you wrapped your arms around yourself. you looked out the window towards the calm sea and felt yourself break. it was already too late. you’ve reached the point of no return, and if you continued down the path you were going with sunghoon, there would be no going back.

“this won’t end well,” you told him, “and we’ll both end up getting hurt.”

you felt his fingers gently turn your face towards his. his face was inches from yours and he pulled you closer to him as you sniffled, wrapping his arms around you in comfort once again.

“and what if i like the pain—the danger?” sunghoon asked you quietly. “what if i want to get hurt by you?”

you shook your head once again and turned your head away from him. “you don’t,” you replied. he didn’t know what he was asking, and you knew someday soon you would have to tell him. he turned you towards him again, nodding. “i do,” sunghoon said.

his lips met yours again and you could feel the harsh winds whip around the two of you. the tides bent and broke and turned. you were both caught in a riptide and there was no escaping. your fates were already put in motion.

you were a fool to think you could stop it. you kissed sunghoon back with so much passion and wanting that you were sure it would knock the two of you right over. instead, he kept you stable, kept both of your heads above the water as you got pushed by the tall waves hand in hand. sunghoon kissed you back just as feverishly.

from the second you saw him through the fog you knew that your souls would be intertwined. you knew that you would fall in love with him—there was so stopping it, and you couldn’t no matter how hard you tried.

but then you thought of his bloody, beating heart in your cold hands. his lifeless eyes staring up at you. you had to fight against your rippling love for him, there was no other option. you didn’t want the sea witch to have his pure heart, she didn’t deserve it. and you felt like you didn’t deserve it either.

but the anchor has already been dropped into the water, and by the time you hurriedly pull it back up it would already be too late.

so you kept kissing him. you let everything you felt for him speak for itself through your moving lips on his and hoped that it was enough. you hoped that sunghoon understood it all—hoped that once he found out the truth that he would forgive you for keeping it from him. you hoped that his feelings for you would change.

the woman’s words from earlier seeped between your thoughts. “he’s already swimming down deep for you.” you didn’t think it could get easier. at the end of the time you had, when it was either you or sunghoon, you were choosing him. you just hoped that, in time, it would get easier for him.

it’s been a little over a week since you and sunghoon shared a kiss that shifted everything between the two of you. you tried hard to fight against your rapidly growing love for him, but it seemed like sunghoon fought against you every step of the way. whether it was fleeting but charged touches, longing looks, or the words he spoke, sunghoon was determined to let the feelings between the two of you grow. he’s even gotten more bolder with his displays of affection.

slowly, throughout the time since your kiss, you let yourself feel all the deep and confusing and complex emotions for him. let yourself pretend that you weren’t a doomed mermaid, but a regular human girl who was falling in love.

so, you shivered at his fleeting touch, wishing for more. you hid your heated face as the two of you exchanged longing glances. you melted at his sweet and honest words, as if it was a secret only the two of you shared. and for the first time in your life, you had everything you’ve ever wanted.

“you feeling better today, my pearl?” sunghoon asked you gently. a couple days ago you lightly burned your hand while lighting the oil lamp. it was a mere sting, really, but sunghoon has been fawning over you ever since. when he first called you “my pearl,” a few days after your kiss, it came as a shock.

“my pearl?” you asked him, slight shock fueling your voice. it was later in the day after the two of you finished the majority of what you had to do around the lighthouse. you and sunghoon sat across from each other at the table with a discarded shared meal pushed to the side in the center of you both. his hand intertwined with yours, thumb caressing the back of it.

“like the ones in your hair,” he said, using his free hand to motion to them. his smile—that seemed permanent these days—grew even more and it lit up his whole face. ��unless you want to be called something different…”

sunghoon leaned across the small table towards you, tilting his head. his lips were inches from yours. in a low voice, he added, “like sweetheart, or darling, or baby…”

a permanent smile seemed planted on your lips too. your face felt like it was on fire, “i’ll like whatever you want to call me. the only thing that matters is that it comes from your lips.” sunghoon chuckled and his head fell in the other direction before placing a sweet kiss on your lips. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

“i told you, i’m okay,” you started as sunghoon looked over your wrapped hand. he glanced up at you with his brows raised before softly kissing the spot on your hand that you hurt. “there’s no need to worry.”

sunghoon then brought your hand to his chest. you felt the dull thump of his heartbeat and your assuring smile faltered slightly. you pulled your hand away. “we should finish cleaning the lighthouse,” you said, looking down to your feet. you glanced back up and sunghoon nodded. you saw the worry start to settle on his face but you moved before he could say anything else.

later that night, a storm had rolled in. it wasn’t as bad as the one that brought you here, but it still scared you nonetheless. it had woken you up and the thunder shook you to your core. it made you remember that just because you were pretending everything was okay and normal didn’t mean that they were. you had to tell sunghoon the truth at some point, and it had to be soon.

you shakily slid out your bed, clutching tightly to your frilly, high-collared white nightgown, and made cautious steps towards your door. with each strike of lightning, your bedroom illuminated and you saw your shadow dance across the floor. sometimes, it didn’t look like you had legs at all, but a tail still. the more steps you took, the more some of them felt wrong. like you were stepping on hot coals or urchins.

shaking your head as you slowly opened your door, you tried to calm yourself down. it was all in your head, that’s all. everything was okay.

you made your way down the short hall towards sunghoon’s room. carefully, you opened his door, the creaking getting drowned out by the rolling thunder. sunghoon was already awake, staring out his window from his bed at the storm, features drawn in complete focus. his eyes snapped to you and his slowly opening door before softening.

you felt silly, like a child coming to a parent after a bad dream. he must’ve seen how scared you were, because he motioned you over to him. you closed his door before walking over to his bed. you climbed up onto it and sat next to him, the two of you peering out his window.

the storm was even less bad than you thought it was. mainly just a little rain and a lot of thunder. the sea waves weren’t even as bad as you thought they initially seemed.

“the storm should be over soon,” sunghoon said, looking over to you, “the waves of thunder are getting further and further apart.” his spectacles caught the moonlight briefly before he took them off. “here, you should get some sleep.”

sunghoon shifted in the bed and pulled his covers over you, urging you to lay down. once you did, the two of you laid in silence and in the darkness—besides the flash of lightning here and there. you looked over at him in the dark, watching his silhouette. “sunghoon, i—”

your mouth clamped shut. how do you even bring something like ‘cutting someone’s heart out’ up? how do you do it without confirming to yourself and revealing to him that you love him deeply? how would he react to it all? you didn’t want your relationship to change, but this road had to be crossed. you had to let him know that your time was limited together—that you only had roughly another two weeks before you’d be seafoam.

how there is no salvation waiting for you.

you decided that it had to wait another day. one where it wasn’t storming and you could see each other’s faces. he deserved that.

“thank you…” you trailed instead, swallowing the lump in your throat. “for all that you’ve done for me thus far. i can’t tell you how much it all means to me.” you felt him shift and though you didn’t physically see his face, you felt the weight of his eyes on you.

in a quiet voice, you added, “how much you mean to me.”

the warmth of his body next to yours was suddenly too much for you. how different everything felt was, once again, overwhelming. it took everything in you not to cry.

“you mean a lot to me, too,” sunghoon said in the same quiet voice as you. “more than you know.”

his arms reached out towards you and his touch felt like sparks along your body. they wrapped around your body and pulled you closer to him, until your head was resting on his chest and you could hear his quickening heartbeat as his chest rose and fell. it made you want to cry even more.

“i’m glad that you came in, i actually can’t sleep that well during storms,” sunghoon said. you looked up at him and you could almost make out his face. “and your presence is always a welcome one. makes me feel calmer.”

you smiled to yourself, your face heating. “i think i can help with that…” you trailed.

sunghoon looked down and hummed in question. you continued, “there’s a lullaby my mother used to sing to me as a child when i couldn’t sleep.” you began to hum the start of it softly.

like magic, sunghoon felt his body begin to get heavy and his eyes struggled to stay open. he yawned and you stopped humming briefly to giggle before continuing. he pulled you even closer, to the point where you were practically almost on top of him. sunghoon just couldn’t get over the way you smelled like the sea waves. it reminded him so much of everything he loves.

in no time at all he was drifting into a peaceful sleep, feeling like the calm ripples of waves were all around him. and next to him was you—the beautiful maiden who had come from the waves, capturing his heart and singing your beautiful lullabies.

sunghoon was past smitten, was past falling, he was in deep. deeper than he’s ever been before and the more time he spent with you, the farther down he went. sunghoon was in love with you, he just needed some way to put his emotions into words and tell you. there was no doubt in his mind about you not feeling the same.

the weather had grown colder than usual, especially during the night. when you and sunghoon weren’t working around the lighthouse, you were both in the house by the fire, talking about nothing and everything. you had just come back inside from relighting the oil lamp at the top of the lighthouse. “it’s really cold out there!” you exclaimed with a laugh as you walked towards where sunghoon sat on the armchair.

he has just come from lighting the fireplace in his bedroom, where you’ve been sleeping ever since that night a week ago when you came in during a storm. sunghoon extended his hand towards you and you intertwined your fingers with his. he quickly pulled you to him and you fell into his lap with a squeal while he laughed. “let me warm you up then, my love,” sunghoon chuckled, pressing warm kisses to your cold cheeks.

the fire in the downstairs hearth was already merely warm embers and it was nearly time for bed. sunghoon pressed a lasting kiss to your lips, both of your mouths moving in sync before you had to break away for air. you stared into his brown eyes with wide eyes, lips just a breath away from each other. sunghoon’s hand was cupping your cheek and for a moment, it was just the two of you in the whole world.

you inhaled sharply before kissing him again. it was full of that same passion and want from the first kiss the two of you shared. in the midst of it, you twisted in his lap, hiking up your nightgown and straddling him as your lips worked against each other.

it felt like the jar you kept all you love for him began to crack until it finally exploded, letting all of the love flow freely. it was too much to contain—too powerful to control. there was no stopping it and it all only grew more and more. it felt as if there was fire in the pit of your belly, making your skin hot and your head clouded.

you pulled away from sunghoon’s lips just enough to speak. “take me,” you whispered lowly. you saw the way his eyes widened and his grasp on your hips tightened. “please,” you begged before placing your lips back on his with a hot kiss.

sunghoon sat the two of you up so you were no longer leaning back on the armchair. it seemed like it took everything in him to rip his lips away from yours. he stood and you intertwined your hand with his and led him up the stairs.

when the two of you made it to his room you let go of his hand as he stoked the fire. you pulled off your white nightgown and let it fall to the floor below. you then crawled onto his bed as you waited, completely naked. the warmth of the flames made your already hot skin feel like it was on fire.

sunghoon froze when he saw you on the bed, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. he watched as the flickering light bathed you in warm hues and made your hair glitter with all of the pearls strung in it. you smiled at him shyly, you gaze casting down for a moment before looking back up at him. you were so beautiful that it truly took sunghoon’s breath away.

he wasted no time, stripping off his own clothes before climbing onto his bed and on top of you, his lips latching with yours in a heated kiss.

you moaned against his lips when his hand slid in between the two of you and down to where you needed him the most. with his thumb, he rubbed at the sensitive bud and made your back arch off of the bedsheets. you whimpered into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

sunghoon’s thumb then traveled down farther, spreading your arousal between your folds and having you whining. his warm hands sent electricity through your body and you didn’t know how much more you’d be able to take if he didn’t do something. you pulled away from his lips, chest rising and falling heavily as your brows knitted together. “i need you,” you begged in a low voice.

sunghoon then slipped a finger inside of you, causing you to gasp and hold onto him tighter. he watched as your face twisted into pleasure and he slowly began to pump it in and out of you, savoring the way your body reacted to him and his touch. once you were clawing at his back, he slipped in another finger, curling them at just the right angle to have you melt underneath him.

you’ve never felt pleasure like this before and it made you angry that you waited so long with sunghoon. the way he repeatedly pushed his slender fingers inside you, coating them with your wetness, made every withering scale and the pain worth it. as long as you got to be with him, everything was worth it.

sunghoon pressed open mouthed kisses down your neck and to your breasts. his tongue circled your nipple before he pulled away. you were writhing beneath him, soft moans falling from your lips at the way his fingers moved. they only got louder when he would curl them at just the right moment and pressed up against your sweet spot.

he watched with a satisfied smile as you tried to press your legs together, a whimpering mess. he pushed one of your legs away with his free hand, his fingers splaying across your thigh and keeping it up towards your chest. soon, he felt your walls grip his fingers tightly before you were covering them in a pretty white. but, sunghoon wasn’t finished with you just yet. he was determined to make this the best night of your life.

helping you ride out your high, he brought his lips back down to yours as he slowly pumped his fingers inside you. your chest rose and fell as you tried to fill your lungs up with oxygen, but you still turned the slow kiss into a deeper one.

“are you ready, baby?” sunghoon asked you in a soft voice, breaking away from your lips. you nodded eagerly, you were more than ready.

he moved so he sat back on his knees, pushing your legs apart as he pulled his wet fingers out of you. you leaned up on your elbows to watch him. more arousal pooled in your stomach as you looked over him and the way the firelight bounced off of him. he looked heavenly, completely angelic. and tonight he was all yours—not the land’s, not the sea’s, yours. and you were his.

slowly, sunghoon slid into you. you gasped loudly at the feeling of being so full, so completely enraptured by him. once he was fully inside you, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. your lips moved in sync with his and you wrapped your legs around his hips to bring him closer to you.

sunghoon started to rut his hips forward, repeatedly pushing himself inside of you. he moaned at how good you felt around him, at how beautiful you looked underneath him with your pretty moans and your face full of pleasure. it was everything he wanted and more. he never wanted this night to end.

the two of you tried to pull each other impossibly closer. you were both desperate for each other’s touch and no matter how close you were, it wasn’t close enough.

you pulled away from sunghoon’s lips after fighting the urge to breathe for too long and buried your face in his neck. he pressed chaste kisses to your shoulder as your bodies moved in motion. it was like two waves colliding over and over again.

inside of you, you felt the rope of pleasure start to fray and snap. you whimpered, breathing heavily as you looked up sunghoon and the thin sheen of sweat that made him glow even more. “please,” you begged him, whining as your back arched off the bed again and your hips lifted towards his. “please, please, please.”

your head felt too clouded and it took all of your effort to even say that simple word. you were so close, so-so close. your body never felt like this before, tingly all over and on fire. it was such a stark contrast to how it felt when you were a mermaid. did humans always feel like this, or was this purely from sunghoon’s actions?

you weakly sat up, wrapping your arms around sunghoon’s neck for leverage. a desperate need overtook your senses as you rocked your hips against him in time with the way he pushed into you. the both of you moaned as the new sudden feeling.

“you feel so good,” sunghoon murmured. “so perfect.”

he sloppily smashed his lips against yours, too eager to kiss you properly with how good you were making each other feel. it felt like your bodies were made for each other—like the two of you were made for each other.

soon, the rope completely snapped and you moaned loudly against his lips, body shaking as your movement halted. more whines and moans fell from your parted lips as sunghoon kept moving. you held him tightly, scared that if you were to let go you would fall apart completely.

it wasn’t long after that you felt warmness spill inside you. sunghoon stilled, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his breathing coming out haggard. soft moans emitted from him and for a moment the two of you caught your breaths in silence.

once you felt like you weren’t in the clouds, a shy giggle escaped you. sunghoon looked up from your neck, an amused smile on his face. “what?” he asked. you shook your head as you giggled more, kissing him briefly. you intertwined your hands with his.

“that was heavenly,” you smiled, your face completely hot. sunghoon brought his hand up to cradle your cheek, his thumb caressing the warm skin, before kissing you again with a grin. “is it always like that?” you wondered.

he laughed, shaking his head a little. “not in my experience—no. nothing close to that,” he replied. “you’re just special.”

a sheepish smile tugged at your face and you looked away from his gaze. sunghoon pressed a kiss to your jaw and you giggled more as he pressed another to your neck. “come on,” he murmured against your skin, “let’s get you cleaned up, darling.”

after the two of you were cleaned up, you laid together on his bed beneath the covers, the dwindling firelight illuminating the two of you. your back was to sunghoon’s chest and he trailed the tips of his fingers along your shoulder and arm, sometimes softly kissing it.

you turned to face him and he fondly smiled down at you, causing his expression to mirror on your own face. he leaned down to kiss you. “my pearl,” sunghoon whispered affectionately before kissing you again.

the next day, the air around you and sunghoon was charged. no longer were the touches fleeting and the two of you shared longing glances. everything was practically out in the open now, one of you just had to bridge the gap completely.

a deep rooted sensation bubbled inside you and you could only describe it as fear. you had to tell sunghoon about the sea witch’s deal, and you had to do it today. you were running out of time—with only a week left—and it couldn’t be put off any longer.

it made the fear in the pit of your stomach worse when you noticed how sunghoon looked at you—how he always looked at you. it was full of love and hope and yearning. you could almost see the words forming at the tip of his tongue without him needing to say anything.

it made you feel guilty that you waited until the last moment to say anything.

sunghoon couldn’t keep his eyes off of you for the whole day. he kept falling behind in his duties because he was too busy focused on you. too focused on the way your dress swayed as you moved, or the way the pearls in your hair glittered in the sunlight, completely free from the up-do that the women of the village wore. or the way you smiled at him every time you caught him staring, that smile that he would do anything and everything for.

the fire lighting the lighthouse was nothing compared to the fire that burned in his heart for you, so blinding that it was the only thing he could make out. you set him alight, made his skin hot and his cheeks rosy. sunghoon felt like he didn’t even need his thicker, wool clothes with you around him. you made his heart race and race until he was sure it would go jumping out of his chest and into your gentle hands.

how could he not love you? from the moment he saw you it felt like something clicked into place within himself. like you were the final piece he’s been waiting for and he was now complete. you completed him.

if you were the lighthouse, sunghoon was the boats and ships drawn to your light with the excitement of land. for the rest of his days, his soul would desperately call out to yours until you came home to him. he was the moth and you were the flame—and he would gladly get burned by your heat if that meant he could be with you, however brief.

you were springtime with the promise of pretty, blooming flowers. the sunlight bouncing off the ripples of the sea and the cool air that flowed up from it. you were the shadows that the leaves cast on the ground and the calming sound of the remnants of waves hitting the rocks. sunghoon could shout from the top of the lighthouse everything he adored about you, but by the time he would be anywhere close to finishing you both would be old and grey, skin wrinkled from all the times you made him laugh and smile.

today was the day, he had to tell you how he felt. he couldn’t keep it locked inside him any longer.

after the two of you finished everything for the day, sunghoon pulled you inside and away from the chilling winds. he sat you on the couch and nervously twiddled his thumbs as he forced the words from his mouth, and once he started he found it even harder to stop.

“i love you,” sunghoon finally breathed. “i love you so much that it’s too much to contain. it spills out of me like uncontrollable rivers. i could tell you over and over and it still wouldn’t be enough—i love you, i love you, i love you!”

he grasped your hands in his, desperately holding onto them as he stared into your eyes with furrowed brows. nothing would be able to capture sunghoon’s love for you and it frustrated him to no end, yet, it didn’t stop him from trying. “i love you like the water loves the land. like the sun loves the moon and all of the stars in the sky,” he finally concluded.

you stared at him with a melancholic look and for a moment sunghoon thought that he might’ve been mistaken. that he read into you a little too much. but, all his worries were eased when you flung yourself into his arms and into his lap, making him fall back against the couch from the edge. you kissed him so passionately that it took his breath away again, but he was content with the burning in his lungs.

“i love you,” you told him, like you had discovered the secrets to the world and it all lied within him. “you paint all of my skies the most saturated colors of blue like i’ve never seen before. you’re the air in my lungs and the beating of my heart—oh, i love you so much!”

all sunghoon could do was laugh joyously as he held you close to him, planting a million and one kisses onto your face as you, too, laughed. he didn’t think he’d ever be this happy in his life, and it was all because of you. no longer were his days lonely and grey; they were filled with the most magnificent colors and your presence.

you didn’t realize the tears that began to fall down your face, or how the overwhelming fear in your stomach came to the surface until you got a good look at sunghoon’s happy face. you inhaled sharply before it was all too much and you broke down completely. at first, sunghoon thought they were happy tears until he saw the way you violently shook and his smile faltered.

he pulled you to his chest as his hand rubbed comforting circles against your back. “you’re crying, my pearl? why are you sad?” he asked you he gently, pulling you away from him so he could see your face.

you shook your head, sniffling and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “i’m happy! i’m so happy for the first time in my life and it’s because of you,” you started. “only, i’m still that naive girl i was when i first washed up on your shore, because this can’t last…”

sunghoon’s brows drew together further. “what do you mean, my love?”

and so you told him everything. about how when you were a mermaid you dreamed of having legs like the landwalkers did, dreamed of walking on land and leading a human life. you told him how you would watch the villagers and then how the lighthouse caught your attention and you saw him from the water for the very first time and knew that he would always have your heart. you told him of the childhood story your father use to tell you of the mermaid who wished for legs and the sea witch who granted it.

finally, you told him about how you sought out said sea witch and found her, making a wish for legs of your very own. about the precedent of the deal and how it required you to cut out the beating heart of the human who you loved the most—him. then, you told him how you could never go through with it, how you’d rather throw yourself to the sea and become seafoam before ever thinking of hurting him.

sunghoon sat quietly with a slight look of horror as you spoke, intently listening to every word that fell from your mouth. “don’t you see why i told you it was dangerous for us to get closer? why it’s not safe?” you cried. “and it’s all my fault… i should’ve insisted that you take me to the village instead of staying. now we only have a week left before i leave you forever.”

another moment passed as you cried and cried and sunghoon held you as tightly as he could, fearful that you’d crumble completely in his arms. he struggled to wrap his mind around the whole thing—around the fact that your time together was limited.

sunghoon couldn’t bear living without you, that was the only stable thought in his mind.

he took your face in his hands and gently wiped away your tears with the pads of his thumbs. it broke his heart to see you so sad, so defeated. all sunghoon wanted to see was your beautiful smile again.

“why did you think i’d let you sacrifice yourself for me?” he asked. as if he’d let you do such a thing. he would rather carve out his heart himself and throw it to the sea if it meant you could keep the life you dreamed of.

you threw his words back at him, “why did you think i’d let you sacrifice yourself for me? it’s not a life if you aren’t in it.”

“because my heart already beats for you.” you shook your head at his words but sunghoon just nodded. “it does. and i want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted, even if it’s at the cost of my own life.”

“no…” you shook your head as more tears fell from your watery eyes. “no,” you stated more firmly. “this life means nothing to me without you. i’m not giving her your heart and neither are you. it’ll be hard when i’m gone, but it will get easier with time. we just have to make the most of the week we have left.”

sunghoon just tilted his head at you and shook his head as tears of his own fell from his eyes. it wouldn’t get easier, and no matter how close he held you, it wouldn’t be close enough.

in the days leading towards the end of the month you were given, you and sunghoon spent every waking moment together. duties were cast aside to only its bare bones and deemed unimportant. you spent time leaving little pieces of yourself on the tiny island. you had taken some of the pearls from your hair and sewn them onto the hat that sunghoon always wore; he even let you weave some of them into the strands of his hair.

a storm had begun to brew along the horizon of the sea that left everything dark and cloudy. you knew that the storm was for you��for him, and it saddened you deeply. it also filled you with a grim determination. the sea witch wouldn’t have sunghoon’s heart. you would die making sure that was true.

it felt as if all hope was lost. like a blanket of complete darkness covered the two of you and you walked lost through it. the majority of the week was spent as if you both were mourning each other, and you were. sunghoon just couldn’t believe that this would be the last time he would ever see you again—he refused to believe it.

he ensured that he had as much physical attachments of you two together as possible, even going so far to hire a photographer and have your pictures taken. at night, he could hear you weeping and he couldn’t do anything to comfort you except hold you. it wasn’t enough for either of you. how could the two of you possibly pretend to be happy when you both knew that the end was near? that the two of you were doomed from the very start?

it was like ice replaced all the warmth inside him and froze him down to the marrow in his bones. the only spark inside him was his undying love for you.

it felt strange to feel such deep and heartbreaking, mournful sorrow over someone who was still living. like his one true love was already taken from him.

how would sunghoon live on once you were gone? everywhere he goes he would search for you, whether that be beneath the empty covers of his bed or between the flickering light of the lighthouse. would he see someone at the village and think that it was you, only for them to turn and he’d see that it wasn’t? would he see the glittering sunlight along the water and think that it was the pearls in your hair—that you’ve returned home to him? he couldn’t bear it all.

but, he couldn’t do anything to stop it. the final day was here and the storm that was previously brewing in the horizon raged on, demanding to be felt—demanding the heart it came for. unease sunk deep into sunghoon, and as you both watched the storm and harsh winds from the window he held you close.

“please,” sunghoon begged, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper and half-muffled from his face buried in your hair, “please, don’t do this. we can figure out another way, just… just don’t go.”

sunghoon had been crying all night and the storm didn’t help one bit. even your lullaby only barely managed to make him fall asleep. he didn’t want to miss a single precious second with you by sleeping. he had the rest of his life without you to sleep.

“it’s too late, my love,” you said somberly. you shifted to face him, tears welling in your eyes. “there’s no other option. i have to do this. it’s the only way… you’re the land and i’m the sea—we only touch for a brief moment.”

you pressed your lips to sunghoon’s firmly, letting all your passion and love for him seep through it. no matter how much your lungs ached and your head pounded, you both didn’t break away. if it was going to be your last kiss, it would be one you’ll both remember forever.

only when you felt like you were about to pass out did you gently pull away from him. a strike of lightning followed by a vicious roar of thunder sounded. “it is time,” you whispered.

you stood from the couch, forcing yourself to break away from sunghoon and the life you cherished so deeply. you bent down to give him one last hug. “i love you, forever,” you said, “and i’ll miss you for even longer.”

“i love you,” sunghoon said, his voice breaking into a cry as tears slid down his face. “i miss you.” with bated breath, sunghoon looked up at you through his tears, “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head at sunghoon as you stood to your full height, your hand falling from his face and you wiped away his tears. you inhaled sharply and you got one last look at him, one last look at him to burn into your mind before you turned to seafoam.

you took in every inch of him, down to the hat with your pearls sewn onto it discarded at his feet and the pearls woven into his dark hair as he ran his hands through it. sunghoon was so drastically different from when you first met him, yet, completely the same all at once. it broke your heart into a million pieces to see him this way and have it be all because of you.

inhaling deeply, you turned your back before he could convince you to stay. your hand lingered near the door and you turned back to him one last time. “goodbye, my love, my sunghoon.”

with your last goodbye, you opened the door and faced the storm.

there was no use in delaying the inevitable. you stomped towards the water, stripping off your clothes and your last shred of humanity. anger permeated you, hot like the flame of the flickering lighthouse.

it was so unfair. it was so unfair that you couldn’t have the one thing you’ve ever wished for. but you guessed that it was no easy wish going against nature. a thing belonging to the sea cannot step onto the land without consequences—and here you were, facing them. walking headfirst back to the sea—to your own death, like one would if they had pockets full of stones.

you barely got to your knees in the water before red-hot pain spread throughout your legs, the same pain that you felt when they formed from your tail. soon after you were falling to the water, your deep blue, color shifting tail emerging from behind you. you dived underwater, thankful for once that mermaids couldn’t cry.

you began to swim further out into the sea, watching as more and more of your body transformed back to its original state. the entire time you thought of the sea witch, of how you hated her and her cruelness. she did this to you—she let you dream of hope only to turn the lights back out. you never should’ve made that bargain.

above you, you saw the water ripple like something was dropped in. you wouldn’t have thought anything of it if not for the feeling against your tail. you stopped swimming and twisted to look behind you.

shock filled you and your eyes widened. sunghoon swam towards you, clothes flowing in the water as he got closer.

no. what was he doing here? doesn’t he know how dangerous it is for him to be in the sea at this moment? you wanted to lecture him, scream at him—but, all that filled you was the love you have for him.

sunghoon reached out his hands toward your face and gently grabbed your cheeks. he swam forward and placed his lips onto yours. you should’ve known that he wouldn’t let you go alone, that he would be there with you until the very end—even if you told him over and over that it would only make the pain worse.

you pulled away and let yourself smile at him one last time—for the first time as what you truly were. that smile quickly faltered when you saw all the red start to seep out from around the two of you, feeling the knife against your chest.

looking down, you gasped and bubbles of air floated towards the surface. lodged in sunghoon’s chest was a knife with blood rapidly coming from it. you shook your head at him, brows knitting together in anguish, and sunghoon just nodded.

you refused to let him do this—to let him die. to let him die for you. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. it was supposed to be you, not him. you were supposed to be the sacrifice.

you linked your arms under his and swam as fast as you could to the shore, bringing sunghoon towards the surface and fighting against the harsh waves. every second felt like a grain of sand in an hourglass, and you didn’t have much sand left. you now know what he meant when he said “i’m sorry.”

sunghoon didn’t have much time, you knew that from the way he began to cough violently. you dragged him as far up on the shore and as far away from the water as you possibly could with the hindrance of your tail. the sea witch wouldn’t have him, you will die making sure of it.

you started screaming for help until your voice was hoarse, but it was no use against the whipping winds of the storm. nobody would hear you on this tiny island away from the village anyway. “why?” you asked him, tears falling from your face, “why would you do this? the sea doesn’t deserve a heart like yours.”

sunghoon grabbed your hands and brought them to the hilt of the blade in his chest. “take it… it’s yours. it will always be yours,” he said hoarsely. blood spilled past his lips and you cried harder. “go, be free. walk on land and live the life you’ve always wanted. be human.”

he violently coughed more and more blood coated his lips.

“it’s not a life i want if it isn’t with you,” you cried, removing your hands from the hilt and pressing them to his wound. your hands were stained but the blood wouldn’t stop.

sunghoon took your hands in his, “it’s not a world i want to live in if you’re not by my side, my pearl.”

with the last of his strength, sunghoon wrapped his hands around the hilt and harshly pulled the blade from his chest. you gasped as more blood gushed from the wound and stained his shirt red. “no, no, no!” you sobbed louder with each word.

“kiss.. me… one last time?” sunghoon heaved in question. his eyes started to close but he fought to keep them open—he wouldn’t waste any more precious seconds.

you couldn’t believe that it was all ending like this—that it all could come to this. you stupid, half-witted, naive little guppy. how dare you dream of a life you could never have?

you sniffled and nodded. you didn’t care that his blood would be on your lips, you bent down to press yours to his anyway. as they moved in sync you could feel the life draining from him and you pulled away, letting him get as much oxygen as he possibly can. it wasn’t supposed to be this way.

sunghoon smiled up at you and it was the last glimmer of light in the darkness as the rain poured down around the two of you. he cupped your face gently, his hand trembling. “my pearl…” he whispered, “my y/n… i love you so much.”

with those last words, sunghoon’s eyes closed and his hand fell from your face and into the wet sand below.

you looked down at him with wide, watery eyes. a loud sob ripped through you and you cried until your chest felt like exploding and you could barely see from the burning tears. you raised a shaky hand and placed it softly on sunghoon’s chest where his heart resided. it no longer beat. he was gone, truly… gone.

you took the knife laying limply in his other hand and threw it as far away from the two of you as you could. you then laid your head on his chest like you did all those nights ago in the bed you shared, only, it wasn’t the same.

sunghoon was gone. his warm body was now cold and his beating heart had stilled. all that was left was you—and soon, even you would cease to exist.

you felt tingling in your tail, little stabbing pains that would hurt if you didn’t feel so numb right now. you knew that you were withering away—turning into seafoam like the sea witch promised with only your heart to leave behind so she could collect it. you welcomed it, for you had nothing left.

let her take your heart, so long as she doesn’t touch his.

softly, you began to hum the lullaby your mother used to sing to you as a child. you hoped that it would aid sunghoon on his journey beyond, that the storm would no longer make him anxious and instead he felt calm. that it would gently lull him to where he needed to be.

more tears slid down your wet cheeks from the lack of sound in chest. how it didn’t rise and fall with his breathing. but, you continued humming.

the fin of your tail started to turn first. seafoam overtook it and fell away into the sand in a pool of foamy white. you closed your eyes as it spread further and further up your body. you hummed until you physically couldn’t anymore—until your entire body was seafoam and so were your lips. until you were nothing but a beating heart against sunghoon’s still chest.

the storm began to melt away, the dark clouds very slowly rolling back towards the magic that casted them and the rain traveling upwards towards them. it is unknown how long the remnants of your bodies laid in the wet sand, curled into each other.

there was no telling where sunghoon ended and you began.

deep down below at the sea floor there is a rumbling. a loud, angry scream follows and it is said it can be heard for miles. the sea witch tries with all her might, but her waters are just too far away from where the two lovers lie. she is unable to take their hearts, for they are their own—they belong to each other and no one else. and soon after, your heart turns to seafoam too. the two of you, at once, were home with each other.

while the law searches the tiny island to figure out what came of the lighthouse keeper, they find a picture of a woman with pearls in her hair—similar to the pearls found in the lighthouse keeper’s hair—and a shifting blue scale. the picture and scale was hidden in a pocket close to his chest and free from any blood. the woman was never found and the villagers have no recollection of her—despite the various photographs around the lighthouse keeper’s small home.

through the breaking light of the dawn, it is said you can see two souls turn to one.

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 6 months ago

Text

33 / 1.8k / shark mermen Gaz and Soap for mermay :)

...

You emerge from the cold saltwater with a gasp and cling to the only thing you can—a metal buoy, just as freezing as the ocean.

Something brushes your leg. Again. Then you feel a jolt of pain.

A moment later, he surfaces—the mer who cut you off from the boat and pursued you here. He looms closer, curious eyes fixed on you.

"Don't come any closer!" you tell him, half-strangled by seawater. You wish you sounded stronger. Your throat burns raw and your voice is choked. You press yourself up closer to the tower-shaped navigation buoy in a vain attempt to pull yourself away from him.

Gaz cocks his head to the side at the command, his black eyes flickering to your mouth in recognition. He treads the rough water effortlessly, lazily, the shape of his body under the water rolling.

He understands you perfectly. Then he moves closer anyway.

You sputter, fingers slipping as you scrabble for a better hold to—you're not sure, pull yourself to safety? There's nowhere to go.

He looms over you. You turn your face away and press into the buoy as tightly as you can. He rests his hand against the metal near your head, claws digging into the rust. His eyes rake over your body. You’re cold. Wet. Scared. Gaz can’t keep his eyes from moving all over you. From your wild, dripping wet hair down to where you disappear into the sea, thin human skin flat against curved metal. All the soft, exposed flesh in between.

Tentatively—when he doesn’t grab you—you steal a glance at him. His broad shoulders are bare, skin dark and smooth. Scars mark the sculpted muscles of his chest and forearms. Saltwater in the open cuts on your arm force your attention back to the situation at hand. He spots the bloody rivulets running down your forearm at the same time you do. It’s not just a series of cuts—it’s a bite mark. He bit you.

Then something big brushes your leg. You jolt, kicking, your shin banging hard against the base of your safe buoy. You nearly jump out of your skin when a second mer surfaces right behind you.

Gaz follows your stare back to the second mer. It’s Soap.

Soap grins, razor-sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. His dark hair is drenched, swept back from his face and away from his eerie all-blue eyes. When you don’t react immediately, freezing up instead, his hands crawl up your waist. You shriek. Soap laughs at your reaction. He tightens his hands on your waist and pulls you so easily from the buoy into the cage of his arms.

You struggle to keep yourself aloft without anything to hold on to. Soap seems blasé about keeping you high enough above the surface to breathe. He's more interested in your peculiar human features—your gilless ears, your flat teeth, the soft skin that extends well past your waist and hips. Even Gaz moves closer, enthralled with the sight of you wrapped up in Soap’s arms, your comparatively tiny human hands gripping and splashing around in a way they’d consider rather cute. Like a kitten curling its paws around a toy rather than someone fighting just to stay afloat.

Your lungs still burn with salt and your sparse clothes cling to you as you twist in the waves. Desperate to escape, you shove your left hand against Gaz's chest and your right elbow against Soap's, trying to make room for yourself between them and lift yourself away from Soap's curious, clawed hands. But there isn't much you can do.

Gaz stares down at your hand lingering on his chest. You have such short, blunt, thin claws. How are humans supposed to protect themselves with those? He looks up to see Soap attempting to wrestle your squirming, slippery little human body more securely into his arms.

"I had her," Gaz says in their mer language.

You can't understand it. To you, it sounds strange and half-muted, but you can feel the depth of the vocalizations in Gaz's chest and snatch your hand away as if burned.

“And now I have her,” Soap says.

"You shouldn't have grabbed her. She’s riled up now."

“You just want to be the only one to see her up close. You can share." Not to mention he knows how Gaz can be. If Gaz were to get his hands on you first, Soap would be lucky to see a damn thing, much less touch you. Soap, on the other hand, knows how to share. “Have a look at the skin. Like an eel’s, but with little hairs.”

Gaz glares at him but obliges, dipping under the waves as he moves closer. He can’t resist the temptation of that soft flesh, so different from his own. Especially when Soap’s already got his hands on you and is feeling you up as much as he likes.

He circles you slowly as his eyes adjust to see you better in the low light. The rest of you is just as interesting as what's above water, if not more. You've got knees. Feet, even. He skims a claw from your ankle to your thigh. You kick in response, and Soap's long tail twists in the water to keep hold of you. Your feet, your legs—they’re so tiny. All flesh, no fins at all. Even when you kick, they just slide through the water so uselessly.

Above the water, you cry out at the sudden feeling. Cold dread settles into your gut as you recognize these two for what they are—not just mer, but sharks. Their size and sharp teeth give them away. Not to mention their skin. It looks like human skin, but it's smooth when rubbed in one direction and sandpaper-rough in the other. Exactly like the skin of the creatures they mimic.

You push blindly against Soap's chest, ignoring the bite of his claws as he holds on to you. You're certain they're about to pull you underwater and drown you. Maybe eat you. You've already been bitten.

Then, over the roar of blood in your ears, you hear the distant sound of a boat's bell. You swivel your head to see a small rescue boat. Someone must have noticed you were snatched overboard. Instantly, energy pulses into your limbs again. You push yourself up as far as you can, nails digging into Soap's shoulder, and you wave your arms and shout for all you’re worth to get the rescue boat's attention.

Soap whips his head around to follow the sound of the boat. He knows exactly what it is, and he doesn't like it one bit. The more he tries to hold you still, though, the louder and shriller your cries get. There's no chance the boat will miss you like this. Humans have really good eyesight even without their little lights. He could just let you go. He wanted to see you up close, and he did. But with Gaz circling below the water, and with every little touch reinforcing his curiosity about you, and with the smell of your blood filling his senses, he decides he and Gaz haven't had nearly enough time to study you.

With a beat of his tail, Soap pushes away from you.

You sink instantly, gasping in a mouthful of saltwater as you struggle to right yourself. You break the surface of the water one more time, but all that comes out when you try to call for help again is a watery choke.

A clawed hand wraps around your ankle and pulls you down. Your head submerges. Everything goes muffled besides the sharp stinging in your nose, eyes, and the bite on your arm. Soap's grip is like steel, pulling you down, down, down until the surface is just a glittering ripple far away. Your wild thrashing just tires you out, which makes keeping you under easier. He can only imagine the kind of panic that’s taking hold. Humans are notoriously poor swimmers.

Your vision spots as you struggle. Soap knows exactly what he's doing. His blood sings in his veins, the thrill of the hunt overriding everything. The moment is perfect: you under his control even as you fight like good prey.

The pressure of the water grows immense. It presses in on your eardrums and your chest cavity. You fight against the urge to breathe, but you are well and truly running out of oxygen.

Soap feels your struggling grow weaker. There's no way you're getting away now. You’re all his.

Suspended in the water above you both, Gaz understands exactly what Soap's instincts are telling him to do. His are saying the same thing: to strike while you're vulnerable, disoriented, desperate.

Instead, he dives to Soap and stops him.

"What are you doing?" he snaps. "Humans can't survive in the water."

Soap blinks like he’s turning his brain back on. "Aye. Am only hiding her."

"For how long?"

"Til the boat leaves. Morning, maybe."

Gaz grits his teeth. Before Soap can protest, Gaz darts up and grabs you with a burst of speed, ripping you right out of Soap’s grasp. The way he hooks you into the inside of his elbow knocks the last of the air out of you.

Your head spins. Your body is wracked by a dry, painful cough, and your mouth opens as your body instinctively tries to find air. Water fills your lungs. Gaz feels you convulse. He clamps his hand around your mouth. But it doesn't do you any good.

He propels you both up toward the surface. But instead of breaking through, he swims parallel, leaving the rescue boat behind.

You’re clinging to the final frayed threads of consciousness when you finally break the surface of the water. Your back hits sand. The impact forces your diaphragm to push a mouthful of water loose. That gets you coughing again. You flip over and cough what feels like an unsurvivable volume of seawater out of your lungs.

You cough until every muscle in your stomach hurts. You keep coughing as you get to your hands and knees and drag yourself up the rocky beach. Gravel cuts and burrows into your hands and knees. You don't have the capacity to notice anything besides the air you're desperately swallowing.

As soon as you're not completely convinced you'll die here, you collapse onto your side, curling into a fetal position. You don't notice the two lambent pairs of eyes watching you from the shallows.

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist tag

2K notes · View notes

chosok-amo · 2 months ago

Text

MY BOY SUCH A PRETTY CRIER : GOJO SATORU

my boyfriend has the prettiest eyes,” . . . you love your boyfriend— gojo satoru's eyes, you always have, until you see him crying for the first time, and you can't help but need to see those eyes, glisten with tears, every chance you get.

warning. obsessive! gojo satoru, established relationship, mentioned of suicide, blood mention, obsessive reader, slight dark, toxic! reader.

wc. 6,6k ( art belong to the artist, devider belong to cafekitsune )

it's glisten...

gojo satoru's blue, azure irises glisten under the moonlight like little twinkling stars, silking with his tears. you were mesmerized and for a moment your erotic movement stammered, slower, slower, slower . . . and stopped. it hurt your chest, your lung, like the air just got reap by fingers with pointed nails, or razor-sharped teeth, you named it.

you gasp for air, holding them down inside your reaped lungs. it's suffocating, how his eyes make you feel. and suddenly, you can feel everything, your senses sharpen— the way his heart is beating like thunder underneath your palms, cocoon by his ribcage, the way his girth, his throbbing girth twitching inside you.

“baby...” he breathlessly calls you.

gojo's nail digging is dullest to your chubby rear, silently begging you to move and get back to work, but no.. you stay silent for a moment, drowning in his blue eyes you never realize as blue as the ocean, as deep as one before. you always knew it was pretty, but never as this pretty, it's breathtaking, it's soul-sucking, it's. . . gut wrenching, pain, because you will never have eyes like his, you will never, ever, find eyes like his with other men, other person.

“beautiful..” you whisper.

your trembling hand gently makes its way to kiss his cheek, thumb dancing across the skin to push away the tears selfishly. only you, it's only you who can get this close to his eyes, it is you.

“you are so beautiful,” soft, breathless whisper kissing your lips before you lean closer, skin to skin with his forehead. it was crystal clear, his eyes. . . so celar you can read his mind through it, see his soul laid bare, feel his blood and his heart beating faster each second- looking straight at you like its ready to burst his ribcage open nad run to you with all the blood, the flesh, even the bone.

one blink, two blink, and three blink it takes gojo to clear the glisten effect on his eyes, letting the last tears fall freely down to his cheeks. a small frown makes its way to your forehead, so you found your hips moving slowly, your glisten clit grinding against gojo's skin, his cock twitching and soft moan leaving his pink, swollen lips.

soft mean tear from your throat, past your lips the moment tears flooded in gojo's eyes. “don't close your eyes, baby,” you whisper, like a witch chanted a mantra. gojo nod eagerly, bewitched by you. it was sinister, your smile, drowning in love and something more. the look on your beautiful face, the one where gojo never saw. he was mesmerize with the way you look at him. how your eyes practically sparkling, your cheeks blushing madly, your eyes glue to him like he is the center of your world, and gojo was doomed.

after that unforgettable night, you find yourself completely immersed in the depth of gojo’s eyes, as if drawn into a boundless ocean of their beauty. every nuance of their color becomes an intricate tapestry that you cannot help but unravel. imagine, if you will, the way his eyes might transform under the tender embrace of a sunset, their natural brilliance kissed by hues of molten gold and soft amber, weaving a breathtaking symphony of warmth and light.

“hey, baby,” his voice drifts softly, like a breeze stirring you from the quiet of your thoughts, his words threading through the haze that clouds your mind.

you blink once, then twice, and a third time, as if awakening from a dream spun of shadows and whispers, until your gaze finds his—those eyes, blue as a restless sea, now roiling with a tempest of fury. it’s a sight that steals the breath from your lungs, a depthless anger that crashes like waves against the shores of his calm, threatening to sweep you away. his stare is fierce, wild. . . cannibalism lookalike even, and you feel something shift within you, a fullness that blooms in your chest, heavy and warm. his palm, cold against your flushed skin, cradles your cheek, and you lean into his touch, drawn like a moth to flame, craving the chill that soothes the heat of your racing heart.

his knuckles, adorned in the brutal artistry of bruises, are stained with the blood of those who dared to lay hands upon you, each mark a testament to the violence he’s wrought in your name. once again, his knuckles, oh, they are a map of violence—a testament to the ruin he hath wrought upon those foolish enough to lay a hand upon what he cherishes most: you, oh you. . . the love of his life.. bruises bloom like dark violets upon his skin, and the crimson of blood lingers, a stark reminder of his ferocity, his unrelenting need to protect, to possess, to guard you as fiercely as the lion doth its pride.

they bear the story of his wrath, of a love so vehement it spills over into rage, uncontained and ferocious. he stands as a fortress, unyielding and unbreakable, a sentinel who guards not with words but with fists and fury, and in his eyes, you see a promise—a vow that none shall harm you and live to see the sun again. his touch, a chilled caress upon your cheek, pulls you closer still, and you lean into it, seeking solace in the coolness of his palm, a balm against the heat of his wrath.

“baby, are you alright?” he asks, his voice a deep, soft rumble that vibrates through your very bones, soothing and stirring all at once. it washes over you, a tide that pulls you under, and suddenly your legs betray you, trembling beneath the weight of it all, the sheer intensity of his presence. you feel yourself melt, your knees weak, the world spinning as if gravity has turned traitor, and you begin to sink. but he is there, always there, swift and sure, catching you in the safety of his embrace, his strong arms wrapping around your trembling form, pulling you flush against the solid heat of his chest.

“please, hold me,” you whisper, voice barely a breath, still lost in the storm that rages within his gaze. there’s a desperation in your plea, a need to be held, to be anchored amidst the chaos that threatens to drown you both. his hold tightens, as if he could fuse you to him, make you one with his own flesh and bone, and you feel the world steady under the weight of his arms. his scent, warm and familiar, envelops you, a heady mix of comfort and danger that sends a shiver racing down your spine.

there is an obsession in the way he looks at you now, an all-consuming need that borders on madness, a love that knows no bounds, no reason, no restraint. for in that gaze, you are not merely seen—you are worshipped, adored, the very center of his universe, hell, you are a god to gojo satoru. his eyes, burning with the light of a thousand suns, speak not of mere affection but of a devotion so profound that it eclipses all else. every breath you take, every beat of your heart, is caught up in the maelstrom of his love, swirling endlessly in the vortex of his gaze.

he holds you so close, close enough that you can feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, a fierce, steady drum that matches the frantic cadence of your own. your hands find their way around his neck, fingers threading through the silken strands of his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until there is no space left between you. your lips meet his in a fervent kiss, a clash of need and hunger, tongues dancing in a tangled, breathless frenzy. it is a kiss that speaks of survival, of gratitude, of a love that is both a sanctuary and a storm.

he tastes like fury and devotion, a bitter-sweetness that lingers on your tongue, and you drink him in, greedy for more. his grip on you is unrelenting, as if letting go would mean losing you to the abyss of his own making, and you cling to him with equal fervor, your bodies a tangled mess of limbs and longing. in that moment, there is no past, no future—only the now, the heady rush of his breath mingling with yours, the feel of his hands on your skin, the unspoken promises that pass between you with every stolen breath.

he holds you as if you are the very air he breathes- well, indeed you are, as if he could will you into his soul and keep you there, keeping warm and alive unthe the flesh of his ribcage, close to his heart, safe and cherished, forevermore. his eyes, still brimming with that furious fire, soften at the edges as he kisses you back with a reverence that makes your heart ache. it’s a kiss that binds, that claims, that seals you to him in a way that words never could, and as you pull away, breathless and dazed, you know that this is where you belong—wrapped in his arms, lost in the depths of his gaze, loved with a passion that burns brighter than the stars.

when he pulls away, a thin, glistening thread of desire still lingers, stretching between your parted lips over the tongue—a tether that binds you in this shared breath, this dangerous dance. his gaze meets yours, those blue eyes still ablaze with a furious tempest, but within their storm, there flickers a flame of love, fierce and unyielding. he looks down at you, a twisted smile curling at his lips, a grin that speaks of chaos and carnage, of a madness that holds the world at bay. “i'm sorry those fools dared to lay hands upon you, but they will trouble you no more, my love,” he murmurs, voice low and threaded with menace, a vow spoken with a lover’s gentleness yet edged in steel. his hands, calloused and sure, cup your cheeks, cradling you as though you are the most precious, fragile thing in all the realms.

together, you both cast your gaze down upon the bodies sprawled upon the cold, unforgiving ground, their forms marred by bruises and the remnants of his wrath. they lie there, wet and lifeless as fallen leaves, scattered by the tempest of his fury, no longer a threat but mere echoes of their own folly. and yet, even amidst the wreckage of his rage, there is a strange beauty in the chaos he has wrought—a dark symphony of love and violence, a tribute to his devotion, twisted and true.

“come, let me take you home, my love,” he murmurs once more, the words a soft caress against your skin, as his lips find yours in a kiss that seals the promise of his protection. you are stunned, breathless, and your eyes glisten with a fervor that matches his own—a wild, consuming adoration for the man before you, this maniacal figure who stands between you and the world. to love him is to dance on the edge of a blade, a perilous waltz that thrills and terrifies in equal measure.

you look up at him, smiling so, so, so sweetly, mirror the same menace, at satoru gojo, your beautiful, dangerous obsession, and your heart swells with a love so potent it feels as if it might burst from your chest. it is sick, this mutual madness that binds you, a passion laced with peril and an affection born of fury. he is a storm wrapped in human form, a threat to all that dares to stand in his path, yet to you, he is a haven, a divine madness that sets your soul alight.

his eyes—ah, those orbs of azure fire! they are the boundless seas wherein your soul doth drown a thousand times. in calmer tides you have known them—playful, serene, a gentle mirth that sparkles like sunlight upon the morn’s dew. yet now, behold, they blaze with tempest’s fury, aflame with wrath as the heavens in their ire. 'tis as though the very stars have kindled rage within those depths, a storm that seethes and seizes all that dare to meet its gaze. and in that wild and furious tempest, you, undone, do find your heart ensnared anew, aflutter as a wanton moth to flame.

for every glance he grants, each furious flicker of those eyes, doth pull you deeper still, till all the world is but a distant whisper, and you are lost—utterly, wholly—in the unfathomable blue of his gaze. to see him thus, to feel his ire burn not at you but for you, sets your blood to riotous fervor, and lo, your cheeks do bloom with that sweet crimson of youth’s first fond blush. oh, what madness is this! to love so fiercely, to find in rage a tender, quiet adoration that makes you very breath catch, your heart sing out its foolish tune of love renewed.

his eyes are not mere mirrors of his soul; they are the very tempest that doth rage within his breast, a tumult of love and wrath entwined. 'tis a sight both fearsome and fair, for in his fury lies the pledge of his protection, a devotion that doth border upon the divine. how can i resist? his gaze is your sun, your moon, your guiding star, and you, poor wretch, are but a humble worshipper at the altar of his gaze. to see him thus, to know his anger burns for you, not against you, is to be wrapped in the warm embrace of his fiercest love.

aye, 'tis true—each time those eyes, so fierce, so wild, do meet your own, your heart doth flutter as a captive bird newly freed. in those depths, you see not just the fury of the storm, but the quiet promise of a love that will not fade, that will not falter. it is obsession, a fire that consumes and yet does not destroy, but rather, sanctifies. and so you fall, endlessly, hopelessly, into that blue abyss, where anger and love are but two sides of the same coin, where you are his, and he is yours, and the world may be damned, so long as his eyes remain your haven, your undoing, your everlasting delight.

in his arms, you are both prisoner and queen, worshipped in the sanctuary of his embrace, held aloft by the sheer force of his adoration. it is a love that defies reason, a devotion that flirts with destruction, and yet, it is the most beautiful thing you have ever known. for in his fury, you find a devotion unbroken, and in his danger, a divinity that shines brighter than the stars. it is wild, it is reckless, it is divine—and you would have it no other way.

you open the door, and there he stands, drenched from head to toe, rain pouring down like a curtain of sorrow, clinging to him as if the heavens themselves weep for his misfortune. gojo satoru, usually so untouchable, now a figure cut from despair, shivers in the chill of the storm, his white hair plastered to his forehead, rivulets of water tracing the sharp lines of his face. his eyes, usually alight with mischief and boundless confidence, are now dimmed, clouded with a sadness so deep it seems to swallow the very light that once defined him.

“go home, satoru,” you say, your voice firm, though your heart clenches at the sight of him.

he doesn’t move, just stands there on your doorstep, trembling from the cold, every shiver of his body a silent plea for your warmth, your forgiveness, oh, your love. his gaze locks onto yours, and in those azure depths, you see a man unraveled, a soul laid bare. he looks so lost, as if every ounce of the bravado that once shielded him has been stripped away, leaving only raw, aching need. he is like a stray pup, kicked and abandoned in the dead of night, caught in a relentless downpour with nowhere to turn but to you.

“please,” his eyes seem to say, though his lips do not move, as if the very act of speaking would shatter what little remains of his pride. the sadness in his gaze is a weight, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on your chest until it hurts to breathe. he stands there, drenched and desperate, the rain mingling with what you can’t tell are tears or the relentless downpour, and you can’t help but feel your resolve waver.

he’s begging you without words, a silent supplication for the love he once held so carelessly, now desperate to grasp it again as if it were the last tether to his fading light. and in that moment, you see him not as the invincible person, not as the man who commands respect and fear, but as someone who is utterly, devastatingly human—broken and yearning, with eyes that plead for a mercy only you can grant.

his body trembles, not just from the cold, but from the unbearable burden of your absence, his breath hitching in the back of his throat as he stands before you, stripped of all bravado. his eyes, usually so filled with boundless confidence, are now heavy with the weight of his own despair, looking up at you with a sadness so profound it seems to echo through the storm. he caught in the relentless fury of the night, shivering and soaked, eyes pleading for the warmth and solace of your embrace—a creature lost in the dark, cast adrift without the guiding light of your love.

“just go home, i don't want to be with you,” you say, voice cutting through the rain like a cruel, deliberate blade.

and just like that, the dam breaks. the tears well up in his eyes, those brilliant blue pools now shimmering with unshed sorrow, glistening in the dim light like shards of broken glass. it’s a sight you’ve longed to see, a vulnerability that he so rarely shows, and for a fleeting moment, you feel a sick satisfaction bloom within you. his pain, raw and unfiltered, stirs something deep, something dark, as you watch the strongest sorcerer reduced to nothing more than a man undone by the weight of his own emotions.

his eyes, usually so full of power and certainty, now shimmer with a desperate plea, tears spilling over as he chokes back a sob. you've never seen anything more beautiful, and in this twisted, fevered moment, you’ve never felt more alive, never fallen harder for him than right now, with his pride in ruins at your feet.

“please, baby,” he whispers, voice cracking under the strain, “i’ll be less annoying, i'll lest of anything that driving you away from me, i’ll do whatever you want—just, please.” the words tumble out, desperate and frantic, as he promises to change, to bend, to be whatever version of himself you demand. he stands before you, a king stripped of his crown, reduced to nothing but a man begging at your mercy, and the sight of it sends a shiver of dark delight down your spine.

it’s sick, the way you revel in this power over him, the way his tears make your heart race and your lips curl into the faintest of smiles. you are obsessed with this dance, this twisted game where his suffering is your satisfaction, where his pleading eyes are the sweetest of victories. he is yours, wholly and completely, and you know that he would break a thousand times over just to keep you from walking away. you will be the death of him, and once, you whisper and spitting on his grave, everyone will watch him crawling back from the death, and once again, he will be lying on your feet for your mercy, for you to love him, all bones and flesh.

and yet, you find yourself pushing further, testing the limits of his devotion, just to see how far he will go. it is a cruel, intoxicating power, to have someone like satoru gojo reduced to tears, and you drink it in like a forbidden elixir, sweet and heady. he is beautiful in his despair, and as he stands there, drenched and pleading, you can’t help but fall for him all over again, tangled in the twisted love that binds you both in this endless, obsessive dance.

gojo falls to his knees, the mighty sorcerer brought low, his arms winding around your legs with a grip that trembles like a leaf caught in a tempest. his body shakes with the cold and the weight of his despair, his once towering presence now reduced to a man clinging to the last threads of hope. he presses his forehead against your knees, rain-soaked and broken, as if your touch alone could redeem him, could stitch together the fragments of his shattered pride.

he looks up at you, eyes glistening with unshed tears, a kaleidoscope of heartbreak and desperation painted across his face—a portrait of a man undone. there is something so exquisitely pathetic in his gaze, a rawness that strips away the veneer of invincibility, leaving only the bare, trembling truth of his need for you. his eyes, those brilliant blue oceans, are now brimming with tears that spill over, tracing a path down his cheeks like the first rains of spring breaking the drought, each drop glistening like a jewel in the pale light.

and you, standing above him, feel a dark, intoxicating thrill twist within you. it is the beauty of his suffering that ensnares your heart, the way his tears catch the light like shattered stars, casting shadows of sorrow and longing. you are captivated by the sight of him, the strongest man you know brought to his knees, eyes pleading, voice breaking as he begs for the one thing he cannot command—your love.

“please,” he murmurs, the word a fragile whisper, his breath warm against your skin, “love me again.” his voice cracks, a jagged sound that splinters the air, and his tears fall faster, the dam of his restraint collapsing in the face of his need. he is beautiful in his anguish, a vision of tragic grace, and you cannot help but fall in love all over again, lost in the raw, unguarded emotion that spills from him like a river bursting its banks.

to see him like this, vulnerable and pleading, is to witness the unraveling of a myth—a god brought to earth, stripped of all but his humanity. and in this moment, he is more magnificent than ever, his sorrow a canvas on which your love paints itself anew. his tears are a symphony of the heart, each drop a note that sings to your darkest desires, pulling you deeper into the depths of this obsessive, all-consuming devotion.

his eyes, those eyes that have seen worlds beyond, now reflect only you, and in their tear-streaked depths, you find a love so fierce, so fervent, that it threatens to consume you whole. it is a love that does not ask, but demands; a love that kneels at your feet and begs for mercy, not for itself, but for the man who weeps before you. and as you look down at him, his tear-stained face so achingly beautiful, you know that you are lost to him—lost to this love that is as twisted and fragile as the threads of his tears, a love that binds you both in a dance of pain and passion that neither of you can bear to end.

as he stumbles forward, falling to his knees with a shudder that ripples through his entire body, the rain pouring down on him like the heavens themselves are weeping for his plight. his hands grasp at your legs, fingers clinging to you with a desperate strength, as though you are the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. his head bows low, forehead pressing against your knees, and his breath comes in ragged, frantic gasps, each one a struggle against the sobs that threaten to tear him apart.

“please,” he begs, voice fractured and raw, as if the words themselves are tearing through him, leaving him gasping for air. “please don’t turn me away. i can’t—i can’t do this without you. i’m dying, i swear, i’m dying without you,” his voice breaks on the last word, shattering into a desperate wail that pierces through the rain, his body convulsing with the force of his sobs.

“i’ll be anything, anyone you need me to be,” he continues, his eyes wild with a terror that’s almost primal, like a man staring into the abyss. “i’ll change, i’ll never be too much again, just… just don’t leave me here, not like this. i can’t breathe, i can’t even think without you. please, i’m begging you—don’t let go of me.” his words come out in a rush, frantic and broken, his voice thick with tears that he no longer bothers to hide.

the world seeming to tilt on its axis, his pride scattered like the raindrops that pool around him. his fingers find your hand, clutching with a desperation that makes your heart stutter, his grip fierce as though you are the last tether to a life he can no longer navigate without you. his head bows low, forehead pressing against your knees, and the sound of his breath is a ragged, broken thing, a symphony of despair that rises with the rhythm of the rain.

“i'm sorry,” he rasps, his voice a mere whisper against the howl of the storm, but there is a rawness in it that slices through the night, a vulnerability that lays him bare. “please, don’t do this. i am undone without you. every breath is agony, every beat of my heart a hollow echo. i am nothing—nothing without your love to guide me.” his words are a litany of longing, each syllable soaked in the salt of unshed tears, his gaze lifting to meet yours with the fragile hope of a man on the brink of ruin.

he looks up at you, eyes wide and shining with tears, the blue of them dull and hollow without the spark of your love. they are the eyes of a man on the brink, staring down the barrel of a life without the only thing that has ever truly mattered. his breath stutters, each exhale a choked, desperate plea, and his fingers dig into the fabric of your clothes, clinging to you as if the very act of holding on is the only thing keeping his heart beating.

his eyes, those brilliant blue depths that once held the light of a thousand stars, now brim with the bleakness of a sky stripped bare, his tears mingling with the rain that slides down his cheeks. he is a man unmade, all bravado stripped away, leaving only the raw ache of his need, the sheer, unrelenting force of his devotion that coils around your heart like ivy.

“please,” he whispers again, his voice so faint it’s almost lost to the sound of the rain. “i need you. more than air, more than anything. without you, there’s nothing. there’s no me, no us, no world i want to live in. i’m dying here, right in front of you, and the only thing that can save me is you. i fucking swear to god, baby, i will kill you and then kill myself if you don't love me again.”

his head drops, forehead pressing into the cold, wet ground as his body shakes with the force of his sobs, each one wrenching through him like a violent storm. he clutches at you with a desperation that borders on madness, his entire being consumed by the need to feel your arms around him, to hear you say that everything will be okay. he is a man unraveling, a soul laid bare in the rain, and all he has left is this—this pitiful, desperate plea for the one thing that could mend his shattered heart.

“i love you,” he chokes out, his voice breaking, his hands trembling against your legs. “i love you so much it hurts. please… i can’t—i can’t do this without you. i’d rather die right here, right now, than spend another second without you in my arms.” and as he kneels there, drenched and broken, begging for a mercy only you can grant, you see the truth etched in every tear-streaked line of his face: without you, he is nothing but a man lost to the storm, drowning in a sea of his own despair.

he bows his head lower, his sobs blending with the symphony of the rain, each drop a soft requiem for the love he fears he has lost. he clings to you as if you are his salvation, his lifeline, the only thing standing between him and the abyss. and in the depth of his gaze, you see it—the unspoken truth that without you, satoru gojo is not the invincible, untouchable force the world sees, but a man who is willing to lay down everything, even his pride, for just one more chance to be held in the light of your love.

your fingers weave through the silver strands of his hair, gripping tightly as if tethering yourself to the very essence of him. the tension draws a soft, desperate whine from his lips, a sound so sweet it echoes through your veins, setting your blood aflame. your bodies, bared to the night's whisper, tangle together in a dance of unspoken need, your breath hitching in rhythm with his as you find solace in the storm of each other's presence.

perched upon his lap, you feel the solid strength of him beneath you, his muscles taut and trembling, his arms wrapped around your waist with a fervor that speaks of a desperate, consuming devotion. you lean closer, your breaths mingling in the scant space between, and capture his lips in a fervent kiss, tongues entwining like vines that have waited lifetimes to grow together. it’s a collision of hunger and longing, a silent plea wrapped in the taste of him that floods your senses and drowns you in the depths of his presence.

“oh, baby— fuck, ’miss you,” he grunt, his cock twitching inside you— losing his mind how divine your gummy walls hugging him.

his grip tightens as though the very essence of his existence hinges on holding you close, as if the mere thought of losing you again would shatter him beyond repair. his eyes, half-lidded and hazy with longing, mirror the fervor that burns in your own, each glance a shared promise that defies the world's attempts to pull you apart. your breaths mingle in the space between, warm and uneven, and the quiet sounds of pleasure that escape your lips mingle with his, a symphony of yearning that drowns out the rain still drumming against the windowpanes.

his hair, still wet from the downpour, clings to his forehead in unruly strands, a testament to the chaos of moments past and your fingers trace the delicate line of his jaw, committing every inch of him to memory as if to carve him into the very fabric of your soul. yet even in the wild disarray, there is a beauty to him that makes your heart stutter—a raw, vulnerable magnificence that only you are privy to in these stolen moments.

his lips part, tremble against yours, a soft gasp escaping as your bodies move in tandem, meet, a slow and deliberate rhythm that leaves no room for anything but the two of you, a slow and deliberate mingling of desire and desperation, each motion a silent plea that neither of you will ever let go. you feel his pulse beneath your fingertips, wild and unsteady, beating in time with the pounding of your own heart—a symphony of obsession that neither of you could ever hope to silence.

“s— ‘toru,” you whimper in his lips, leaving his breath hitches, and you feel the tremor of it against your skin, a shiver that ripples through the both of you, binding you even tighter together. his eyes, glistening and fervent, drink you in as if you are the only thing that can quench his unending thirst. and your own gaze, locked onto his, speaks volumes of the quiet, relentless obsession that ties your souls in knots too intricate to ever untangle.

every sigh, every gasp is a testament to the fervent reunion of souls that cannot be torn asunder, no matter how the world may try. your cheeks are flushed, mirroring the heat in his own, and there’s a delirious pleasure in knowing that he is yours again, has always been yours, will always be yours. in this moment, tangled and breathless, you both become a living prayer, a hymn to the unbreakable, unyielding force of a love that borders on madness.

his hands, desperate and sure, press into the small of your back, fingers splayed as though marking you, branding you as his own. and in the low, heady hum of your shared breaths, the world outside ceases to exist. here, there is only the two of you—obsessed, entwined, and utterly consumed by the fire that refuses to burn out. you are his sanctuary, his obsession, and as he holds you close, he knows with a fierce, undeniable certainty that he is yours in every possible way, now and always.

your fingers thread through his silver locks, tugging them with a possessive fervor that draws a breathless whine from his lips, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. you lean closer, your breath mingling with his, and capture his mouth in a searing kiss once again, tongues tangling in a desperate dance of need and familiarity. the taste of him is intoxicating, like the first sip of a forbidden wine, and you drink him in as though he were the very air you need to survive.

your other hand traces down, fingers curling into the tender flesh of his thigh, nails digging crescents into his skin with a fervor that borders on reverence and possession. each mark you leave is a silent declaration—he is yours to hold, yours to break, yours to ruin, yours to love in this raw, unfettered way. his breath stutters— his body responding to the sting of your touch, every nerve alight with the electric thrill of your shared desire, a sharp intake that lingers in the air, mingling with the rhythm of your heartbeats that drum like a battle cry in the quiet room. his eyes, a storm of love and desperation, gaze up at you as if you are the moon and the sun, his salvation and his undoing. his arms tighten around your waist, holding you as if you are the center of his universe, the axis upon which his world spins.

you rock your hips slowly, a deliberate and torturous rhythm that pulls soft gasps from his parted lips, each sound a sweet symphony that fills the space between your bodies— a slow, deliberate rocking that pulls soft moans from the both of you, the sound mingling like a hymn of devotion sung only for the night to hear. his eyes, half-lidded and burning with a mix of love and lust, meet yours, and in that gaze, you see the depths of his devotion laid bare. he is yours—utterly, entirely, irrevocably—and there is a heady power in knowing that he would lay the world at your feet if you only asked.

his hands grip your waist, fingers pressing into your skin with the intensity of a man holding on to his last breath, as if releasing you would be akin to the world losing its light. the way his body arches into yours, meeting each movement with a silent vow, speaks of a love that teeters on the edge of madness—a need so profound it eclipses reason.

“i love you,” you whisper against his lips, the words a soft, fervent prayer, slipping free like a sacred vow, a quiet affirmation of the bond that binds you both, unbreakable and infinite. his breath shudders as he pulls you even closer, his response a muffled moan as your movements grow more insistent, the heat between you building like a slow-burning flame that refuses to be quenched.

his eyes flutter shut at your confession, as if savoring the weight of it, letting it sink into his bones. he trembles beneath your touch, his body singing with the quiet, desperate need for more—more of your touch, your love, your presence that he clings to like a drowning man reaching for the surface. every breath you share feels like a stolen promise, each kiss a sacred bond that reaffirms the feverish connection that neither of you can ever escape.

your hands, one still tangled in his hair, the other gripping his thigh, hold him to you as if to anchor him in place, to remind him that this, here and now, is all that matters. his lips curve into a breathless smile against yours, his body arching into every touch, every caress, his own whispered confessions of love mingling with the soft, reverent sounds of your shared longing.

in this moment, every touch, every kiss, every whispered word is a testament to the fierce, unrelenting need that pulls you back to him time and time again. you are tangled in each other’s orbit, bound by an obsession that runs deeper than blood, stronger than any force that might try to tear you apart. and as you lose yourselves in the slow, deliberate rhythm of your of your bodies.

and as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, you realize that this—this wild, chaotic, all-consuming love—is the very marrow of your existence. in his embrace, you find the echoes of every past longing, every unspoken promise, and the undeniable truth that he is yours, irrevocably and eternally. and as you move together, lost in the poetry of each other’s touch, you know that no force in this world or the next could be sever the bond that holds you— two souls bound by the beautiful relentless obsession of love.

as you move slowly on his lap, the friction and intensity make gojo’s breath hitch. a guttural, involuntary grunt escapes him, the sound a raw, visceral expression of the pleasure and need surging through him. his grip tightens around your waist, each movement of yours driving him further into a state of blissful surrender.

his eyes, clouded with a potent mix of passion and adoration, lock onto yours. “fuck,” he groans, the word slipping from his lips in a low, reverent murmur. the sound is both a plea and a confession, his body trembling with the weight of his overwhelming emotions.

he stutters, his voice faltering as he tries to articulate the depth of his feelings amidst the relentless pleasure. “i… i love you too,” he finally breathes out, the words trembling on his lips, laden with both desperation and devotion. his gaze is unwavering, filled with an intense, unspoken promise. “you are everything to me… every touch, every whisper… it’s all I’ve ever wanted, all I’ll ever need.”

his breath comes in ragged bursts, each one a testament to the consuming nature of his love and desire. he pulls you closer, his entire being attuned to the rhythm of your movements, the declaration of his love etched into every shudder, every gasp, as he loses himself in the exquisite intensity of the moment.

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deadghosy · 8 months ago

Text

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

JELLYFISH! READER X HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: A sea creature wants to bring light in hell. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆｡˚

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚ you died while being an oceanographer. You studied the ocean for its plant and creatures. You drowned specifically while trying to push a jellyfish away from you. And honestly, you went to hell becoming a flowing beautiful jellyfish.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Charlie welcomed you with opened arms, she liked how beautiful you are. The way you flow in the air, you were eye catching and majestic

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚jellyfish! reader is a Mitski, grimes, and tv girl fan of music. I think it fits their vibe at how peaceful but dangerous they are with their stingers.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how your human form would look. Jellyfish hair cut with the colors of the blue from your og form with some pink and purple. Or like blue and light blue. You would be an actual main attraction to the hotel.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you probably did get mistaken to get sent to hell instead of Heaven. You were beautiful like a heaven angel, but you were in the depths of hell. Surprisingly the hotel was a safe haven for you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚a beautiful creature like you gain the attention of many to the hotel. You could say that you are the main attraction. And Charlie doesn’t use you like that, but she does make you a resident to get into heaven.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vaggie finds you calming. You have this type of aura around you that just makes people relax. So your hotel room is specially designed to your liking. Which is a dark blue wall with a glowing blue that has ocean waves. It’s basically jellyfish’s en ocean designed. It’s just so magical.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you love floating around as keekee would follow you around. Then you would have the egg boiz following you plus fat nuggets. You just collected your own little band of little people.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚husk doesn’t know much about you in the hotel other than you are practically the princess/prince of the water in hotel. You make sure the water is okay as it’s your duty.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once had made water appear. You had guess you have water power based on you drowning. And using that power, you soaked husk who started to go crazy almost scratch angel dust in irritation.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Lucifer admires your colorful being. Like he may seem as if he doesn’t care about you. But he sorta does as he secretly makes you a jellyfish toy that lights up in the dark.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚alastor, he might as well try to see what you are. He still senses a human soul in which makes him want to get your soul. A human souls is rare than a disgusting sinner’s soul. But you sting him every time he tries to even get close.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once accidentally stung Alastor with your stingers. He oddly didn’t lash out at you, but rather just walked away. He was trying to hold on the stinging pain you gave him.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sir Pentious found you alluring even. Frank and the rest of the egg boiz agree. Frank once called you mom/dad since you were singing him a lullaby.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how crazy you can be. Like one day you are the calming person every one loves and knows in the hotel. And next thing people know is that you are stinging people just because they breathed the wrong way around you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚luckily you are a passive aggressive person sometimes. Or else you would be frying people like bacon. EXTRA CRISY‼️

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚angel dust dead ass thinks you should have a cute blue ocean crown or necklace. Maybe even a cute blue with purple star car. Bro he’s thinking of so much ways to make you girly pop.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you could’ve had shocked angels, and I mean literally cause if it was the battle between hell and heaven. You would win lmao. Cause what if you shocked then hoes into an angel kebab

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on how your stingers is as powerful like the jellyfishes in SpongeBob. You area full electric chair.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vox had a whole board about who tf were you. Legit was giving crazy science man vibes cause how tf is a jellyfish in hell?! You don’t even look demon! You dead ass don’t fit the hell palette. As he is making theories, Valentino and Velvette just stare at each other like “wtf is this?”

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚now say you did went to heaven. Everything would probably be different, but you are something no one had seen before. A jelly fish angel? Yeah that seems unique.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Heaven would admire your original look. Your calming energy makes most of heaven better. Like say for example the angels complement each other with the light of your energy and how your energy flows. You basically have a pheromone, but it’s for positivity to be spread. #bethereasonsomeonesmiles LMAO

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Adam probably makes fun of how you are such a small sea thing creature. But then he switches up when you turn into your human form and start to sting his ass every time he tries to offend you. Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sera would possibly have you as a cherub cause of your small jellyfish form. It only makes sense for you to be one as you are so adorable.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Emily adores you. She knows you don’t mean any harm towards her with your stingers. She’s the type of person who makes you a flower crown cause she loves it be creative around people she likes. Honestly 10/10 friendship honestly.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚lute probably doesn’t care about you much. Other than your stingers are damn annoying. She just wants to rip them out, but you are is kind and sweet. So you have her vote to stay in heaven with her.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on you just humming a soft lullaby as you swim in the air, your blue soft glow in the dark makes anyone go to sleep. The blue is pretty alluring.

A/N: I tried a different writing style with the “bullet points” I hope you guys like this lol and sorry if it seems lazy.✨ inspired by: @selvyyr <3

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runariya · 2 months ago

Note

🥸🪄🤫

Merman JK who placed a courting offer on a rock for a potential mate and human reader takes it. She also goes willingly to the mating cove not knowing JK prepared it for their mating. JK's yandere show at the end when the reader tries to leave him after 🤫

Note: JK wasn't really yandere for reader unti the end. He really just want a mate but because reader took his courting offer, she's it for him.

Thank u soo much for accepting reqs! And u write so fast how do u do that? Your writing is also marvelous!

(yandere+fantasy+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: merman!Jungkook x human!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, S2"L", yandere, merman!AU, dark romance warnings: oblivious reader, fluff, language barrier (merman-language is italic and blue), smut, a little bit of fingering, big cock JK similar to the shape of a whale idk man..., unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, panic, realisation, yandere, lmk if I forgot smth (still hate writing warnings) word count: 3.375

a/n: aaaah thanks a lot for your lovely words anony! I hope it turned out just as you imagined it 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The ocean is beautiful.

You remember a film once, where the male lead whispered that the moon is beautiful as a stand-in for "I love you," but for you, it's always been the ocean. The sea is your love. The scent of briny air, the soothing rhythm of waves unfurling endlessly against the shore, the gentle nibbling of curious fish as they dart around you in the cool, embracing water—all of it anchors you, providing solace in moments of sadness or joy alike. It's what love feels like, or at least what love should feel like, wrapping itself around your soul, calming yet oh so profound.

You always marvel at the depths of the sea that stretch out before you, boundless and mysterious, and yet infinitely captivating. Sometimes, in those quiet moments when the world recedes and you find yourself alone, you long not just to stand as an admirer of its splendour, but to be one with this vast and enigmatic force of nature.

And so, as you walk along the shoreline, as you do almost every day, your bare feet sinking into the warmth of the sand, you're taken aback when you stumble upon a bracelet resting on the stone where you so often sit to gaze at the waves. It appears pristine, otherworldly, with pearls and shells glistening in violet hues beneath the afternoon sun, a beauty far too rare to be discarded by chance on a lonely shore like this.

Your fingers trace its entchanting form, marvelling at the craftsmanship—the smoothness, the intricacy, though curiously lacking any engraving. You glance around, noting the empty expanse of the beach, and let your eyes wander across the vast waters; there is no one else here. The bracelet appears to be yours now by some strange serendipity, still, you hesitate for a moment, torn between leaving it behind and taking it with you, a part of you reluctant at the thought of it being swept away by the tide or snatched by a passing gull. In the end, you slip it over your wrist. But it doesn’t fit—too loose, and as you allow your hand to tilt, it falls away.

You frown, perhaps the universe is nudging you to let it go. But then, as you glance at the bracelet, now nestled near your foot, it occurs to you that perhaps it's meant to be worn as an anklet instead. That makes sense, and so, convinced by this thought, you sit down upon your stone and fasten the jewellery around your ankle. It fits perfectly now, shimmering with a quiet elegance in the sunlight. And as you lean back, stretching your arms behind you, allowing the coolness of the water to caress the tips of your toes, you know that it is, without a doubt, a beautiful day, and this small discovery seems to elevate it to something extraordinary.

It’s not long after when, suddenly, something stirs the stillness of the moment. You sit up straight, eyes wide, as not far from you, without so much as a splash or ripple, a human head breaks the surface of the water. Instinctively, you pull your feet close, nerves bristling slightly from the scare. “C-can I help you?”

But the man remains silent, drifting in the water, and as you squint against the sunlight to study him more closely, you spot what seem to be scales glistening on the back of his neck. Your mouth falls open in an instant—this can't be real. Yet here he is, a creature from tales of mermaids and mermen you once dismissed as fanciful myths. And here you are, unable to tear your gaze from his face, dark wet hair framing features both familiar and otherworldly, his violet-tinted eyes locking onto yours that sends a strange thrill through your veins. His smile, too, is not quite human but not wholly alien either, a delicate balance of sharpness and charm you think.

“Wow,” you breathe, unable to conceal your awe, the astonishment spreading across your face in a grin of its own. He moves then, slowly, swimming a little farther away, and you feel a pang of disappointment, a pout forming unbidden on your lips. But just as quickly, he beckons you to follow, his gesture smooth and inviting as he stays near the shore.

Without a second thought, excitement bubbles up within you and you spring to your feet, hastily dusting the sand from your dress as you jog alongside him, eyes transfixed by the way his body moves through the water with such fluid grace. His tail—large, powerful—propels him effortlessly, and you're left torn between admiring his handsome face and the hypnotic sway of his tail. He makes it look so easy, this gliding through water, while you're struggling to keep pace, panting and stumbling to catch up with him.

Soon, you find yourself before the entrance of a vast cave, its shadowy maw framed by a path of few smooth, small stones that allows you to cross where he has already vanished beneath the surface. Nothing would have prepared you of what you’re met inside. The cave is nothing short of paradise—sunbeams slanting through narrow crevices, casting a thousand reflections on the water’s surface, turning the space into a living kaleidoscope, while droplets of condensation plop gently from the stone ceiling, adding their own melody to the serene ambiance.

The merman is there, resting near a platform, still smiling that beguiling smile, making you approach slowly, leaving a respectful distance between you as you settle yourself against the cool stone wall. “It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, your voice hushed in the face of such breathtaking beauty.

He regards you warmly, then speaks in a language that dances on your ears like music, though you can’t understand it. Still, there’s an unmistakable sense of warmth in his tone. “I hoped you would accept my courting offer.”

You smile, pointing to yourself. “I’m ___,” you say simply, hoping the meaning translates through gesture.

He nods, understanding the basics of this exchange, replying, “Mate.”

Thinking he’s simply stating that you’re human, you enthusiastically reply, “Yes! ___ mate. And you?” You point towards him right after.

His expression brightens once more. “Jungkook mate,” he responds, nodding firmly.

It takes you a moment, puzzling over his words, and then the realisation dawns on you—he doesn’t mean ‘human’. He means ‘friend’. Of course! A wave of happiness washes over you at this revelation, more than happy to be friends with him. “Yes! ___ mate, Jungkook mate,” you repeat, beaming.

His eyes glisten even more at your response, and you can’t help but smile back, the sheer magnetism of his presence holding you in its thrall. It’s as if he’s cast a spell over you, drawing you into his world, his realm. But the moment is soon broken by the buzz of your phone, vibrating in the pocket of your dress, reminding you of your upcoming dentist appointment. Regretfully, you rise to your feet, an apologetic smile on your lips as you back towards the cave’s entrance.

Jungkook looks visibly disappointed, or so you think, as his brows are furrowing ever so slightly, though his expression is still one you're learning to decipher.

“I have to go,” you say softly, “but I promise I’ll be back tomorrow.” You gesture as you speak, hoping he might understand. “___ mate, Jungkook mate. Tomorrow, sun down, sun up, I here.” You gesture dramatically to emphasise your words, and to your relief, his features soften, his nod of understanding clear.

With one last glance at him, you turn and make your way back out into the light, already counting down the hours until you return.

🌊

And so, seven days drift by, each one seeing you return to the cave, where Jungkook awaits with that silent patience of his, the two of you growing ever closer, your understanding of him deepening with each shared glance, each exchange of words. With every moment together, the awkwardness ebbs away, replaced by a gentle ease, as if you’re learning to interpret the language of his quiet gestures, his lilting voice that carries meanings beyond the reach of words.

It’s on the eighth day, after you’ve spent enough time together to almost convince yourself that you can read the currents of his mind, that something shifts between you. The anklet around your ankle, the one you now realise must have been crafted by Jungkook’s own hands, seems to have inspired you to gift him something as well.

“Kook?” you call softly as you step into the cool shade of the cave once more, a bracelet for Jungkook clutched in your palm, something you’ve carefully chosen, a small token of gratitude for all he has given you. You shouldn’t have called out, though, for there he is, as always, waiting by the platform, his strong arms draped languidly over the stone, his face splitting into a wide smile the moment he sees you.

“Mate!” he calls in return, the word making your heart twist in a way you shouldn’t feel. He means friend—but the taste of it is bittersweet now, the small seed of longing inside you growing with each encounter, but you push it aside.

“I’ve got something for you,” you announce quietly, lowering yourself to sit before him, close enough to feel the cool mist of water from his skin as his hand instinctively reaches out, resting lightly on your legs, as if needing to sate his curiosity for your strange, warm softness. You take his hand in yours—his skin wet, cold beneath your touch—and fasten the bracelet around his wrist. It’s titanium, chosen for its strength, its resilience against the sea, knowing it will last, just as you hope this tenuous connection between you will endure. “A courtship gift,” you murmur, the words familiar now—he used them himself every time he pointed at your anklet.

Jungkook stares at the bracelet, turning his arm this way and that, admiring it from every angle, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He whispers the word that has become his tether to you: “Mate.” His voice is soft, reverent, as if the gift means far more to him than you had imagined, and his gaze, filled with such raw affection, causes a flush to rise to your cheeks, a smile tugging at your lips at his sentimental reaction.

But then, before you can make sense of it, his hands cup your face with a suddenness that takes your breath away, and his lips press forcefully against yours. The kiss is so unexpected, his pull so swift and sure that you lose your balance, your arms flailing before they instinctively loop around his neck as you tumble into the water.

He holds you effortlessly, keeping you afloat as his lips claim yours again and again, his cold mouth moving over yours with an intensity that blinds you to the cold water. You had wondered, more times than you’d care to admit, what he might taste like—whether the salt of the sea would be a part of him—but reality is sweeter than fantasy. There is a hint of salt, yes, but beneath it lies something sweet, something intoxicating, that makes you crave more as his tongue slides against yours.

His hands roam your body, sliding over the wet fabric of your dress, exploring with a curiosity that borders on obsession. His fingers press into your skin, kneading the softness of your breasts as his breath grows heavier, more laboured. You can’t help but let your hands wander in turn, feeling the smoothness of his scales beneath your fingertips, the hard muscles that ripple beneath his skin, as solid as the stone walls of the cave.

When you finally pull away, gasping for much needed air, your eyes meet his, and up close, they are even more mesmerising—violet speckled with flecks of black and blue, like galaxies swirling in the depths of his irises, and you reach up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbones, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and you imagine your own must look much the same.

Your peaceful moment is shattered when something thick and solid brushes against your thigh beneath the water, and with a startled shriek, you push away from Jungkook, not sure if your heart starts racing or stops altogether. But his arms tighten around you, keeping you from sinking beneath the surface, his expression shifting to one of sadness as he realises he’s frightened you. The panic ebbs as quickly as it came, replaced by a curious calm as you peer down into the water, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever had startled you.

“Oh,” you exclaim softly, your surprise evident as you realise it wasn’t some sea creature that had brushed against you, but rather, something that extends from Jungkook’s tail. And again, you’re not sure if your heart starts racing or stops, when you realise what it is. “Oh!”

His arousal is unmistakable—large, thick, and utterly unlike anything you’ve ever seen, more like that of a whale than a man, and you swallow dryly as you force your gaze back to Jungkook’s face. He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with an intensity that sets your skin aflame despite the chill of the water and his skin.

A deep heat begins to pool within you, your body responding to the sight of him, the proof of his desire for you undeniable. It would be a lie to say you aren’t tempted—to say he doesn’t stir something similar within you, something that makes your skin prickle and lungs work overtime. The wetness gathering between your thighs is evidence enough of that.

“Are you sure?” you murmur, your voice still echoing in the cave, your gaze searching his as if hoping he’ll understand the question without needing words. And perhaps he does, for his eyes darken with something unmistakable—an answer, a promise—before he nods, pulling you closer once more.

His lips find yours again, kissing you with a hunger that speaks of deep, aching need, his teeth grazing your skin, his rough tongue lapping at your lips, your neck, as though he can never get enough of your taste. You lose yourself to it, the world melting to nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body, the heat of his desire coursing through you like a you imagined devotion would feel like.

You help him rid yourself of the soaked fabric of your underwear, Jungkook’s hands exploring your thighs with barely concealed curiosity before his fingers find the sensitive skin of your cunt, teasing your clit until soft moans escape your lips, your grip on his shoulders tightening without much thought.

But you pull his hand away, knowing the water will only wash away your arousal, leaving you wanting. Instead, you reach for him, your small hand wrapping around the thickness of his cock, marvelling at its size, the way it seems to pulse beneath your touch. Jungkook groans silently, his eyes never leaving yours as you guide him towards your entrance, the size of him daunting but the ache of desire overpowering any trepidation.

You take him slowly, gasping as he stretches you wide, the burn too much at first but quickly giving way to a deep, overwhelming pleasure as he begins to move inside you with the little bit of his cock that fits, each thrust sending sparks flying behind your pupils. He holds your legs tight, forcing your thighs together around the remaining part, the friction equally becoming almost unbearable for you, his cock filling you to the brim, and before you even realise it, you’re crying out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, his movements relentless as he fucks you with abandon, whispering words in his strange tongue, words you don’t understand but that seem to echo with a raw, untamed passion that makes your heart race all the faster, imagining he’s praising you, thinking that you’re such a good girl for him.

You lose track of time, of the number of times he makes you cum on his cock, your mind a haze of bliss, his name the only thing you can remember to say. Each time you think you’ve reached your limit, he pulls another climax from you, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you with devastating accuracy, his low groans and moans clouding your mind even more.

Finally, you feel him tense, his body shuddering against yours as he buries himself as deep inside you as your physique allows, his release coming in thick, powerful pulses that fill you to the point of bursting. The sensation sends you spiralling into yet another orgasm, your body trembling uncontrollably, your mouth parting without a sound, as pleasure consumes you yet again.

When at last Jungkook pulls back, placing you gently on the platform, you collapse against the cool stone, utterly spent. It takes all your effort for the world to slowly come back into focus—the soft hues of the cave ceiling, the gentle lapping of the waves, the quiet drip of water from the ceiling above.

You lie there, breathless, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, like the restless waves outside the cave, wondering what you’ve just done, what it means, and whether you’ll ever be able to return to the life you knew before.

But your mind can’t settle.

The realisation of your stupidity and naivety crashes over you in waves—the impossible reality of sharing yourself with a creature of myth, the deep-seated regret that gnaws at you like a tide pulling at the shore, whispering that this was a mistake, that you should have known better, should have resisted.

You find yourself wondering absurdities—whether a morning-after pill could possibly work against the seed of a merman, or if his essence would simply fade away inside you like mist, dissolving with the salt water, leaving no trace behind. Your body feels foreign, strange now, as if you've been altered by his touch, by the unearthly pleasure that coursed through you, and an instinctive panic rises, setting your nerves alight, urging you to flee.

Your limbs still tremble from all the orgasms as you push yourself upright, hands unsteady as you try to find your balance, desperate to extricate yourself from the surreal haze that envelops you. Jungkook is still there, watching you with those mesmerising eyes, his fingers gently tracing aimless patterns along your exposed thigh, as if nothing in the world could be more captivating than the feel of your skin beneath his touch. His gaze is so tender, so filled with awe, that it only deepens the ache of guilt growing in your chest, highlighting the dangerous ground you’ve ventured onto.

You attempt to pull away, to create some distance between yourself and the fantasy you’ve allowed to take root, knowing full well that this is a world you cannot inhabit, a dream too fragile to hold in the blinding light of reality. But Jungkook’s hand is faster, catching your ankle in an instant, right above the anklet he gifted you—an innocent token that now feels like a binding chain, keeping you bound to something far beyond your understanding.

You struggle, trying to shake him off, beginning to feel more panicked than you ever been in your life, but his strength is undeniable, your efforts feeble against the power of his hold, of the very being he is.

And then, he speaks—softly, with that strange lilt of his voice, but this time, not in his tongue. The word that falls from his lips is yours. The sound of it stops your breath, chills not only the air around you but you too. And in that moment, you realise what you should have known from the beginning, what you should have seen the moment you clasped that anklet around your leg—you’ve crossed a threshold that cannot be uncrossed, a line that cannot be erased.

“Mate.”

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merakiui · 9 months ago

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タコの花嫁。

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.

If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.

And your ancestors intended to claim it.

Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.

“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”

“You ever go and spy one up close?”

“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”

“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”

“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”

Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”

Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.

On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.

It was different in the sea.

Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.

On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.

“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”

No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.

A day of life, not death.

It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.

Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.

So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.

“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea.

“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”

“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”

“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”

“Fin got it on his first try.”

“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”

Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”

“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”

“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”

“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.

And then—

Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”

The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.

It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.

“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.

Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.

“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”

“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.

“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“We didn’t, right?”

“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”

“Father’s gonna kill us.”

“If not us, the monsters.”

Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.

Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.

“Your Majesty.”

The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.

“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”

Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.

“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”

She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”

Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”

Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”

“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”

Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”

“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”

“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”

You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”

“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”

“Floyd.”

At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.

“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”

“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.

Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.

“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”

“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”

“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”

The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”

“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”

She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”

To that, no one could offer a smart reply.

“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”

“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”

“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.

Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”

“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”

“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”

Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”

“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”

“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.

“Let the grown-ups talk.”

Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”

Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”

Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.

You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.

“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”

Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.

“She��s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”

Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”

“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”

Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”

Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”

It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.

Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?

“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”

Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”

Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”

“Because you tried to kill her.”

“Because she was in our territory!”

Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”

“He’s right, Floyd.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”

Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.

Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.

“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”

The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”

You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”

“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”

You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”

“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.

“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”

His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.

You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.

“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”

But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.

Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.

It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.

Floyd was right. You are a brat.

And yet he can’t hate you.

On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.

Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.

“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”

He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.

“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.

More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.

Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.

“Happy birthday…”

“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”

Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.

“I want to start over.”

“Start over?”

“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”

You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.

“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”

Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”

You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”

I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.

“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”

“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”

“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”

“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”

“I’m not!”

You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.

“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.

“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”

“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”

With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.

“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.

Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.

He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.

Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.

Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.

This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.

Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.

“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”

By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.

The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.

It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.

You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.

You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…

Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?

Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.

Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.

You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.

Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?

And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.

“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”

Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”

“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”

Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”

“What’d Azul ever do to you?”

You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.

“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”

“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”

“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”

You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.

This is it. You’re dead.

…or not.

The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.

“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”

“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”

Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”

You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.

It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.

Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”

You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.

When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.

The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.

It’s a nightmare lived in real time.

Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.

Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?

Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.

“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”

“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”

“That was before the union.”

“I’m not letting it go.”

“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”

You don’t believe him.

“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”

You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”

“Legally, you are.”

“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”

Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”

“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”

Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.

“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”

A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.

“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”

“I love you.”

You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.

“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”

“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”

“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”

“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”

It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.

“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”

“N-No… Please stop. Please.”

“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”

Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.

The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.

“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”

Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”

Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”

A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.

“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”

You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.

Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”

“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”

“What a silly demand.”

He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”

“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”

You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.

He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.

You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.

“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.”

But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.

In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.

“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”

Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”

Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.

The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.

“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”

Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”

Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.

He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.

You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”

“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”

He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.

“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”

Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.

“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.

It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: breeding #tw: oviposition

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vestaignis · 6 months ago

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Движемся навстречу солнцу с элегантным скатом (Обыкновенный пятнистый орляк). Moving towards the sun with an elegant eagle spotted stingray.

Обыкновенный пятнистый орляк (Аetobatus narinari).

Это — вид хрящевых рыб одноимённого рода семейства орляковых скатов. Пятнистый орляк принадлежит к роду Aetobatus, его видовое название можно перевести, как «орел–скат». Это скат крупных размеров (до 8,8 м с хвостом), у которого максимальный размах плавников-крыльев может доходить до 330 см, толщина тела в районе головы – 50 см, а вес до 230 кг. Скат орляк похож на парящую под водой хищную птицу -- не зря он получил свое название. Движения его плавников похожи на взмахи крыльев, нос на птичий клюв. Спинная поверхность орляка окрашена в темно-синий или чёрный цвет с белыми точками, брюшная сторона — белая. Хвост длиннее, чем у других скатов, и несёт на себе 2—6 ядовитых шипов.

Широко распространён в тропической зоне, включая Мексиканский залив, Гавайские острова, вдоль побережья западной Африки, в Индийском океане, Океании и вдоль обоих побережий Америки на глубине до 80 м. Обычно ведет одиночный образ жизни, но вне сезона размножения может образовывать крупные стаи. В дикой природе , если пятнистого орляка не трогать , то это животное неопасно и пугливо. Но , если , нечайно наступить на пятнистый орляк , то он обвивает ногу хвостом, наступившего на рыбу пловца , или рыбака и вонзает ядовитые шипы.Часто люди получают рваные раны, которые необходимо промыть и лечить.

Пятнистый орляк имеет охранный статус на Большом Барьерном рифе вдоль восточного побережья Австралии.

Eagle spotted stingray(Aetobatus narinari).

It is a species of cartilaginous fish of the eponymous genus of the eagle ray family. The eagle spotted stingray belongs to the genus Aetobatus, its specific name can be translated as "eagle–stingray". This is a large-sized stingray (up to 8.8 m with a tail), whose maximum wingspan can reach 330 cm, body thickness in the head area is 50 cm, and weight is up to 230 kg. The eagle stingray looks like a floating chi under watera bird of prey -- it got its name for a reason. The movements of its fins are similar to the flapping of wings, its nose is like a bird's beak. The dorsal surface of the eaglet is colored dark blue or black with white dots, the ventral side is white. The tail is longer than that of other stingrays and carries 2-6 poisonous spikes.

It is widespread in the tropical zone, including the Gulf of Mexico, the Hawaiian Islands, along the coast of West Africa, in the Indian Ocean, Oceania and along both coasts of America at depths up to 80 m. It usually leads a solitary lifestyle, but outside the breeding season it can form large flocks. In the wild, if the eagle spotted stingray is not touched, then this animal is harmless and timid. But if you step on a eagle stingray, it wraps its tail around the leg of a swimmer or fisherman who stepped on a fish and pierces poisonous thorns.People often get lacerations that need to be washed and treated.

The eagle spotted stingray has a protected status on the Great Barrier Reef along the east coast of Australia.

Источник://seaforum.aqualogo.ru/topic/59066-обыкновенный-пятнист%C2%AD%C2%ADый-орляк-аetobatus-narinari/, /ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/Обыкновенныйпятнистыйорляк, pofoto.club/29020-obyknovennyj-pjatnistyj-orljak.html, ru.pinterest.com/pin/985231163169913/,t.me/+HLoqW4OcT5VjZjM6.

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lacunafiction · 1 year ago

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This art of Davor is absolutely stunning! Those intricate tattoos, the delicious angst with A, and how only his Bee can call him Dove. 🕊 🥰

The Fernweh Saga by @lacunafiction - Davor edition

I-I think Ms. Verner doesn't like him...😳

Davor "Dove" Kovač 🐝 RO: Becca Warrick

Personality: cautious // aloof // pessimistic // flirtatious (only towards Becca ...and Reese??) Traits: head // independent // resistance // believer Past affinity: math Primary ability: extrasensory awareness Past susceptibility: forward. 'it’s better to push forward. don’t look back on the past when you have new places to be and things to achieve.' <<< his motto

🕊️ Fernweh: Davor lived a happy life there and didn't think about leaving in the future. Maybe for some trips, but he knew it would always be his place, his safe place... 'It was a mistake to come back here.' - that was his first thought when he tried to fall asleep on the first night in Fernweh. The nightmares came back as he thought they would. He wants to leave as soon as possible because he feels that it is not safe for Becca to be here.

🕊️ Gramps Dan: That was his gramps who taught Davor how to play the guitar. As a young child, Davor always admired him and believed he was the most intelligent person in the world. After the death of his parents and how his grandfather treated him, he was devastated and angry. He wanted answers soo badly but didn't get any. He lived loathing his grandfather ever since. The news of his passing stirred up a lot of negative emotions that Davor had previously managed to suppress. At the beginning of the story he couldn't care less about his grandfather, but because of his journal he started to believe him. Things that his granfather lived through made Davor even more angry at this messy town …but he's willing to forgive his gramps…

🐝 Becca Warrick: It was a ...funny story that brought both of them together and they look after each other ever since. He considers Becca as his precious (not in a negative-possessive way) treasure, he literally can't let anything bad happen to her. That was also she who came up with the nickname 'Dove'... (and she's literally the only person who calls him that, others wouldn't dare...). He had feelings for her for quite some time but didn't act on it... until now. Although he didn't express it, he felt very nervous about Becca being in the town where he grew up. He was curious (but also scared) about what she could think of this town. He felt like he was revealing more of himself to her…. and he forgot about any worries pretty fast, because the town started being weird as fu--.

🕊️ Reese Verner: Back then Davor was quite cheerful and enjoyed competing with Reese regularly. They teased each other a lot. Davor always thought that Reese had a crush on him, was it true tho? donut know, but he certainly had. ...why does he appear in his nightmares? Maybe the crush stage never disappeared...? Seeing him again was a nice experience, sure... but ignoring the circumstances, he is still unsure if it was worth it and is struggling with his thoughts… Would it be worth it to return to Fernweh just to see him... again? welp, good thing he doesn't have to think about it much, am I right?

🕊️ Sofia Dorran: The two of them maybe did not have a strong relationship, but he knew Sofia is the ideal person for engaging in intelligent conversations. He enjoyed spending time with her, solving the puzzles that gramps created for them both. Davor wasn't a fan of fantasy books, but she managed to change his mind about them. Davor knows that Sofia did take good care of his grandfather, but he still doesn't quite know if he's grateful for that or wished she spent her time more... valuably... He was tempted to ask Sofia to borrow that book she found in his grandfather's bedroom, but he thought better of it. It's better to leave Fernweh… Even so, his curiosity wasn't properly fed.

🕊️ James Corvin: Maybe not brothers by blood, but definitely brothers by choice. Davor treated him as if he was the brother he always wanted to have. Back then Davor always placed a high value on his family… until now. At the time, Davor tended to be more impulsive and James was usually the one who kept him from getting into trouble (which often involved Reese). It was really hard, for both of them, to see each other after so long. Their first interaction was pretty awkward... I would even say that most of their interactions were . James noticed how Davor changed the question is: for the better or worse? I don't even know. Everyone can sense, that things around them are different now, and they aren't as close as before. Will it change?

🕊️ Alek Corvin: …To say that Alek wasn't a fan of Davor would be an understatement. Was it because James spent most of his time focusing only on Davor trying to get him out of trouble? Did Alek observe any possessiveness from Davor towards James? Or maybe simply because of the bond between those two, which was truly something that others would envy and desire? Davor never considered it, especially when he left Fernweh permanently. :)) As you can imagine, Alek doesn't seem very happy about Davor's return… But he took an interest in his new friend, Becca, which did not go unnoticed by Davor and he isn't really happy about it.

🕊️ The Waitress: Oh boy, it seems that Davor has taken up a new hobby, which is glaring harshly at the waitress. He finds her mistrustful and he smells trouble. Had they met when he was younger, there may have been a slim chance of them getting along.

🕊️ Waffles!: So um… Davor has a little issue with dogs and because of that his relationship with Waffles isn't as wonderful as I wish it would be... However, I believe that with time and help from Becca, they will eventually become friends.

#fernweh saga mcs #fernweh saga art #who do queue think you are?#(yes; i did my more normal/organizational tags first to contain the !!! emotions at getting to learn about another one of your lovelies.)#There's so much thought into his character from the backstory to that scar and how it relates to Becca along with his slight-#-fear/aversion to dogs to how he and Sofia would conquer puzzles the TFS grandfather created. :D #(I also love how Becca might be able to get her Dove to eventually be more comfortable around Waffles by building trust.)#The meaning behind his tattoos is incredible--i'm in awe of all the tiny exacting lines you drew to create the symbols. 😍#(Davor caught my eye since I saw that leather style/more rebellious look paired with the cute honeybee pin; the clash--the softness for B.)#Davor: *is a badass* Also Davor: *wears the bee pin in honor of Becca and will stare down anyone who says smthn about it* 😠#the shade of blue for his eyes is so pretty--it reminds me of dark ocean depths #i saw your tags about the dynamic with him; James; and A! I think you have some great insight into why a 'frenemy' or negative-#-past history A behaves the way they do. There might be some jealousy. 👀 They already weren't fond of the MC as a kid so how hard the-#-absence hit J is something A (especially strained/frenemy A) never forgets. They couldn't take seeing J like that.#Davor's motto is very fitting with his personality and how he has come to view his grandfather!#the conflict you've created for him is epic--such a keen and curious mind that his grandfather helped to nurture but it's overshadowed by-#-some rightful anger about what happened. Sharing the same hobbies as a man he now harbors some resentment towards. Ouch. 🥺 (I love it!)#i'm excited for you to continue exploring the dynamics in Book Two; Nyks! Thank you for taking the time-#-to share your Returning Visitors and create this art. 💚💐🕊

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ghost-1-y · 1 year ago

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Depths

Sea Serpent!Obanai x AFAB!Mermaid!Reader

Content Warnings: MDNI, thalassophobia, nyctophobia, manga spoilers if you squint, sexual content, monsterfuck!ng, penetrative sex, consensual sex, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), 69’ing, tongue-fucking (Obanai has a really long tongue), bondage (via Obanai’s tail), light choking(?), sensory deprivation (it’s dark and reader can't see things unless they’re close by), degradation (reader-receiving), self-degradation (Obanai), breeding k!nk, creamp!e, mentions of exhibitionism (doesn’t really happen), uh- reader almost swims back home naked(?), minors and ageless blogs DNI!!!

Summary: Your father had always warned you of the dangers of the deep ocean, demanding that you stay within the safe borders of the underwater kingdom. However, one day, you become curious and secretly travel into waters untraversed by any merperson still alive today – wishing to know what lies beyond the safe confines of your home, not realizing that the countless warnings from your father had been given to you for very good reason.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Divider Credit: the wonderful @/benkeibear

Whatever you do, please, for the love of Poseidon himself, do not go past the borders of the kingdom.

Whenever you left your family’s underwater cave, your father would always warn you of the dangers of leaving the safety of your home. It was, of course, something every merperson was warned about: to not travel into the depths of the ocean, or so much as pass the coral reef that bordered the edges of the region.

For every single merperson that disobeyed this rule disappeared without a trace.

You were unsure whether or not that meant they’d died, but it seemed that was the general consensus of the merfolk in your community. Even the king himself decided to create gravesites for those lost to the depths, as a way to commemorate their memory and contributions to the kingdom. What’s more is that the royal family decided to keep guards posted at the edges of the reef in order to prevent anything from coming in, as well as anyone from going out.

Most merfolk heeded these warnings without question – as the pressure of the water would have killed them anyway should they have traversed a little too deep. However, you – always the curious one – wondered what exactly happened to those who did decide to enter the endless blue and swim into the dark. While the others considered them to be foolish individuals, you thought them to be brave, courageous adventurers who wished to know more about what existed beyond the borders of your home.

But, in order to not upset your father – you couldn’t bear being the cause of his misery and grief – you stayed put. Always looking but never acting upon your desires.

And so you performed your usual daily tasks, collecting sea grass and other marine vegetation as food for your family. You’d swim along the coral reef, not going so far as to reach the outskirts of the kingdom; yet, just as you were about to pluck yet another piece of kelp from its roots, a dark shadow crossed over you from above.

By the time you turned around to see what it was, however, the shadow was gone – it had, like those who’d gone beyond the reef, disappeared without a trace.

You never considered yourself to be foolish, but even little merchildren who spoke excitedly about the mysteries of the ocean depths would question the actions you performed next as you tossed your little woven basket filled with vegetation to the side and swam to the edge of the kingdom, hoping to catch sight of whatever creature caused the shadow.

As you swam to the very edge of the reef, miraculously evading any guards posted in the area, you looked out into the deep blue as it turned to black beneath your tail – never having realized before that your reef had stood on the edge of a precipice that overlooked a vast, endless abyss – unknowing and shrouded in mystery. You shivered, an indecisive feeling striking at your heart as you questioned whether or not to follow it – before you noticed the slightest movement in the dark below.

Fuck it, you thought to yourself as you embraced the vastness of the water and swam into the depths where light began to dwindle, wishing to know what exactly lived down there. You swam, and swam, and swam – feeling the pressure slowly but surely digging into your skin – a force that, despite the small discomfort, seemed to be pushing you further downward rather than ushering you back to the safety of your home, and a sense of freedom started to flood through you – because you had done something that was unthinkable, and you were alive.

Yet, as you continued your journey into the abyss, you noticed movement just out of the periphery of your slowly diminishing vision, and you realized how what you’d done could be perceived as foolish – because you were not alone here; there were beings lurking in the dark that engulfed you – watching you as you traversed through the unknown – or at least, what was unknown to you.

“You’re an interesting little thing, aren’t you?” a voice from behind you hissed. “Not a care in the world for what could be lurking within the shadows – stalking their prey as you go about swimming in waters that aren’t yours."

Your blood turned to ice as you slowly turned around to face the voice’s owner – only to find nothing as you’d gone too deep into the dark, just barely able to make out the tips of your fingers as you stretched your arms out in front of you. The voice chuckled, as though it could smell your fear.

“Where– where are you? Who are you?” you hesitantly asked the voice, only for it to answer – sounding from your right this time.

“Hm? So demanding,” the voice admonished you, “I should ask you what you’re doing in my waters.” It was behind you now, “tell me, how did you find yourself so far away from your home? Are you lost? Or, perhaps you came here – came to me – on purpose…” it drawled, and you felt an uncomfortable shiver move up your spine.

“I–” you swallowed, trying to ease the developing knot inside your throat, “I came here on purpose…I wanted to explore– I was curious of what lived beyond the reef.”

The voice hummed, “I can’t tell if you’re incredibly brave or insurmountably stupid.” It was in front of you this time, and you could just barely make out the silhouette of its figure before it shrouded itself in darkness once more.

“Can I– can I see you? I’d like to know who I’m talking to,” you insisted, trying to calm the shakiness of your voice.

You were met with silence – had the creature left you? Were you alone again?

“Surely a thing as pretty as you would regret looking upon something as hideous as I,” it responded, nearly emotionless – as though it were stating a fact of nature itself. “Why don’t you swim home, hm? I’d spare your life just this once – next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”

Yet, when you were met with such an offer, you hesitated. Something in which the words were said made you wonder if there was truly an escape from this.

“What if I refused?” You were beginning to realize how foolish you truly were. “I’m not leaving until I know who you are,” you maintained, and the creature scoffed.

“You merfolk have always been brainless,” it sighed, “I shouldn’t have expected anything different from you.”

“Don’t talk about my people that way,” you demanded, and you were met with what could only be described as a low growl.

“Why shouldn’t I? It was your people who cast me out years ago – who left me to rot in the depths beneath the reef… fucking pitiful, isn’t it?” the voice spat, “you wanted to see me? Surely you’ll understand why they did such a thing when I look like this,” it seethed as it finally got close enough to reveal itself to you.

At first, his outline suggested that he was a fellow merperson, but your eyes widened as he got closer – as he revealed his more reptilian nature. To start, he lacked the forked caudal fin usually possessed by merfolk, instead possessing one more pointed and snake-like – one that merged into a spinal fin that ran continuously along his much longer tail and back. Your eyes ran up his torso, which was scaly and muted in color like the rest of his underside. You looked at his arms, which were surprisingly one of the more mer-like parts of his body – until you gazed upon his hands, which were webbed in between his fingers, and with nails so sharp they could easily slice open the throat of any prey. Last was his face – again, similar to that of a merperson, but his ears were finned and his mouth was wide and serpent-like – almost as if it were cut open along the sides. Your eyes scanned down his body once more until– oh.

His cock was huge.

Embarrassment caused heat to prickle across your cheeks, since merpeople in your kingdom would usually wear loincloths made of kelp to cover themselves in public. You forced your gaze away from his lower half, only to see him glaring at you as you looked up towards his face and into his mismatched irises.

Yet, you didn’t display any emotion of disgust or fear upon seeing him, a reaction which very much confused the serpent before you, as all others before you treated him as though he were the algae stuck to their scales – or worse, something that needed to be killed off, as though he were no better than a barracuda threatening the young merchildren that played along the reef.

“Why do you not cower in fear? Why do you not try to escape?” He asked as you maintained eye contact with him, a pregnant pause ensuing between the two of you.

“Is there a reason I should be afraid?” you asked, and he frowned.

“A horrifying creature such as I should invoke fear, disgust even. Tell me, dear,” he mocked, “tell me how sickening you think I am,” he demanded, bearing his pointed teeth.

“You’re beautiful.”

He paused, unbelieving of the words that floated across your tongue and through your lips.

“Liar.”

You shook your head, “let me prove it to you,” you suggested, drawing closer to him within the darkened abyss, “may I ask for your name?”

The serpent looked at you with suspicion before conceding to your request. “Obanai Iguro,” he stated.

“Obanai…” You let the name roll off your tongue, fingers lightly tracing along the scales of his chest, causing him to tense slightly, “such a pretty name.”

He grabbed your wrist with his webbed hand in warning, his grip tight against your skin.

“I’ll break you,” he cautioned, and you smiled, using your free hand to drag the tips of your fingers along his scaled torso.

“Maybe I want to be broken,” you purred.

As though something snapped within him, Obanai coiled his tail around you, effectively trapping you in place, with his narrow caudal fin lightly constricting around your throat. He pushed you against the rocky surface of the underwater massif and met you at eye level, faces mere inches apart from each other before he clashed his mouth with yours, his fangs prickling against your lips as he kissed you fervently.

“You want me to break you? I’ll fucking ruin you, dear.”

Obanai gripped your jaw and forced his tongue into your mouth, making you quickly realize its forked nature as he massaged your tongue. He ripped his lips away from yours before moving down towards your breasts, grabbing at the shells that covered them with his sharpened nails and allowing them to fall into the darkness below. He latched his widened lips to one of your nipples, his forked tongue flicking the hardening bud as he sucked your breast into his mouth.

“Fuck– so good,” you whimpered, and he hummed before providing similar attention to your other breast, his tail tightening ever so slowly around your body – as though constricting around his prey in order to obtain his next meal.

And a meal you were, as he used his tail to force you further upward until his face was just below your navel, using his teeth to rip away the cloth adorning your waist as though he were haphazardly unwrapping a present. He wasted absolutely no time before plunging his tongue deep into your hot, exposed cunt, his lips pursing along your opening as he collected your juices. The muscle pulsed along your slick walls, undulating inside of you as he began to swallow your sweet nectar. Your eyes rolled back as your body reacted to the unfamiliar intrusion – moaning wantonly as he fucked you along the length of his tongue, before roughly pulling out of you, leaving you to whine at the sudden cut off from your impending orgasm.

You gasped as he turned you upside down and brought you close to his hardened cock. “Suck on it,” he demanded, and you obliged – having to use both of your hands to fully wrap around its girth before suckling at his tip. He plunged his tongue back into your tight pussy, causing you to moan around the head of his swollen, flushed cock.

“Shit– that’s it, keep doing that,” he groaned as you began bobbing your head along his leaking tip, fitting as much as you could into your mouth while using both hands to stroke the remaining length of his dick. You licked along the underside of his cock, the veins adorning it throbbing against your tongue, his soft groans spurring you on. He started to rub your clit as his tongue entered your tight hole once more.

“Fuck!” you whined, “i-it’s too much! Obanai–!” you pleaded as he stretched his tongue further into your pussy, the forked tip slightly brushing along your cervix. He moaned, sending vibrations deep into your gushing cunt, putting you in a daze as you lazily stroked his cock. You could feel the tension build up deep within your stomach as he continued to prod his tongue through your wet entrance.

“C-Close…fuck ‘m gonna–!” you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, and Obanai groaned as he lapped up all of your release with his tongue, swallowing all of it. He didn’t let up on the binding he put you in with his tail, but he did position you right side up again so he could kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

“So dirty, wanting to be fucked by something like me,” he groaned before pinning you against the rock once more, dragging his cock along your folds. You whimpered, causing him to chuckle, “you want this serpent’s cock? Want to get filled with my filthy cum?” and you nodded, your head falling back before he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“Yes! Please! Wan’ your cock inside me– oh fuck!” you cried as he wasted no time shoving it deep inside you, filling you balls deep in a single stroke. You could see the outline of his cock as it pushed against your tight walls, the slightest bulge showing along your abdomen as he pressed inside of you.

“Shit, even after I stretched you out with my tongue, you’re still so fucking tight,” he panted, his grip that bound you loosening a little as he began pounding into you. “Such a dirty fucking whore, what would your people think if they saw you getting ruined like this?”

You whined, unable to respond with how well he was fucking into your cunt, easily hitting that one spongy area that caused you to arch your back even further and clench around his cock. “Hm? Do you like that idea? You’re dirtier than I thought.” He increased the intensity of his thrusts, and you could only hear the pap, pap, pap of his balls slapping against you as he relentlessly impaled you on his cock.

His thrusts became sloppier as he got closer to his own climax. “I’m gonna fill you up, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hah- gonna breed you with my cum, then everyone will know you got fucked by a nasty serpent like me.” You whimpered and nodded, and he smirked before pressing his cock fully into you, groaning deeply as he emptied himself into your hot cunt, triggering your own orgasm as you gushed all over his dick. He pulled out of you and drew back his tail so you were no longer bound by him, lowering himself so he could lick at your pussy once more, tasting your mixed juices on his tongue. You jolted as he flicked at your clit, and cried out from the overstimulation before he parted from you.

“I’ll let you go – swim along home, dear. I’ll be down here if you ever wish to indulge me again,” he stated before licking his lips, eyes still hungry as he gazed down at you. You nodded and swam back up to the precipice of the cliff, cum still leaking out of you as you started to return home, only stopping yourself minutes later as you shamefully realized that you had nothing left to cover yourself with as you emerged from the depths.

Perhaps you’d stay, you thought, no one ever returned from swimming beyond the reef, after all.

Taglist: @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @llearlert, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @kyojurismo, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh

(if your name is crossed out, it means that tumblr didn't allow me to tag you! apologies for the inconvenience)

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1800titz · 8 months ago

Text

The vacay piece I teased ages ago. One night stand :D

CONTENT/WARNINGS: p-in-v, oral, brief size kink (if you squint), praise kink, this one’s p vanilla.

WC: 2.5K

It starts like this:

A bohemian beach with a high riding tide, where ripples surge and flood the shore. Sand tears from its home, coasting the verge in the breeze like a fog under the overcast, and when the clouds split open, the rays hug her skin.

She’s sprawled over a chaise lounge in a little red thing that’s all skimp and no cover besides the intimates. When she rolls onto her side and tips to her tummy, he eyes the flash of skin behind dark tint. His arms brace over the porcelain border of the pool that overlooks the beach up ahead — he’s watchful from a distance. Someone swims up to the bar behind him. Chlorine laps at his back, teeming over the grout between the tiles as he wraps his lips over a straw and nurses something cobalt and strong.

By the time he culls a second one, she’s up, all glistening skin in the sunshine, hips swaying as her toes make doughy prints in the sand. She trails to the sea, and the ocean eats her until she’s just a little silhouette in front of his sunglasses with water-slicked hair and lines that cinch and swell in all the right places.

He sees her like that, outlying his bubble, in brief pieces like the flashes of skin. Fragments in the horizon, like the border of a stranger’s leg in the background of a photograph. He sees her in slivers where eyes interlock from across the room and linger. This bohemian summer is painted in teal, and it’s waves swathing the coast, warm skin coated in cocoa butter.

It ends on a night where the teal metamorphose indigo, and then nearly denim, with orange on cords, glinting like miniaturized, splintered orbs of the sun have been caught to glare forever on strings in the night. Harry sees her through that indigo, this stranger’s bare leg waltzing in the depths of his touristy snapshot, mingling in the dancing horde. He trails closer, shouldering through the throng and squeezing through in polite gaps, and she twists like it’s fate — just enough to smuggle a glimpse in her peripherals.

Eventually, Harry leans in to murmur, “What are you drinking?”

The plush of his mouth ghosts over the cartilage there, and his cadence smooths over like honey, low and deep over the pounding bass of the music. Waned tobacco and spice; a warm, pleasant musk in the flurry of scents.

She doesn’t immediately respond, observant like she’s weighing whether the invitation is worth entertaining. It only takes a second. Then, there’s a hand over his pec, like she’s already made friends with the filth of his intentions. His red-lycra-skimp mystique rolls up on her toes.

Harry twists his head just enough for her to respond, “It’s a Blue Lagoon.”

Saccharine — rich and lux and smooth, something that has her skin glowy and sweeps up her throat, tucks behind her ear, enough so that the scent billows off with the motion of her hair as she flips it over her shoulder.

Harry casts his gaze to the drink. A red straw is tucked into the ice, and the only remnants of the beverage mingle at the bottom. The ice shimmers in faded teal, much like water sloshing over the flat tides. Her fingers cradle over the cup, and that’s where soft, thin lines of gold coil. Despite the broad array, there’s no wedding band.

“Can I grab you another?”

That’s when she does the thing; this patently flirtatious, brazenly get-under-my-crocheted-midi-skirt sort of thing, lashes coy in their sweep and eyes innocuous as the tips of her manicured fingers pinch at the straw and siphon it to her mouth. There’s an elegant presentation to the polish — neat, short lines with a nude base and a white tip.

The remnants of the beverage vanish until all that’s left is crushed ice painted with blue curaçao. Harry watches the straw. He watches her lips, the way they unlatch and the way the pink tip of her tongue offers a glimpse before it hides away behind her front teeth.

When she pulls the drink away, she tips her head — an inclination for his ear again — and when he ducks his chin for her answer, she tells him, “Can you make it worth my time?”

A tongue swipes — his — like it’s already hungry and yearning. Dimples form beside the curling edges of a mouth after the pink muscle retreats. Home in its hungry cavern; limitlessly craving. He doesn’t bother going for her ear again, instead opting to fix eyes that have wandered, all week, onto her face. Definitive, close. Mesh of saccharine and spice.

“I’ll make it worth your time,” Harry assures.

His eyes are virid, even in the indigo, under all the miniature suns as the lanterns throw them back into a roll of blue — it climbs over the crowd and seeps with the music. They’re virid and intent. They’re virid, and there’s something lewd that dances in the mottled talc.

She watches him. A set of eyes flits to his mouth and stays, brief like a fragment. She nudges the cup — the fragment splinters and fades — extending it against his chest until he raises his hand and his ring clad digits curl over it slowly, wet with condensation.

“Blue Lagoon,” sweet mystique reminds him, a little curl to her mouth.

Harry heads to the bar. He orders a Blue Lagoon and refreshes his tequila. Double. He winds through the half-clad crowd, prodding and slipping through sweat-slicked bodies until he finds her again.

He makes it worth her while when they’re dancing, when her arms are slung over his shoulders and the tips of her fingers graze at the little curls at his nape, like an intimacy beyond a summer fling, or maybe like a restless hunger — its touches only test the waters with dips of toes under lapping ripples. He makes it worth her while when his hand cups the meat of her hip, and she tips her head up for their mouths to meet, when their dancing slows and the kiss turns feverish, cushiony mouths teasing at the seams until they split.

He makes it worth her time when they make the stroll back to his room, heels clicking over tile and bouncing off from lofty wall to lofty wall, a good bit of distance between them strictly for the sake of avoiding shagging in the middle of a hallway. He makes it worth her while when he braces his wrist band to the lock over the door, when she’s leant against the wall with her irises lingering on him and her lashes batting coyly. She’s well-behaved, hands tucked behind her back like a combat to handsy temptation.

It’s a different story behind the door.

He makes it worth her while when her fingers toy at her crocheted halter, index perusing at the fabric below cleavage and brushing over chalky yarn. He makes it worth her time when he steps into her space all slow-like, face tipped down and the pink below his cupid’s bow worked into a soft curve, lengthy, deft digits working over the buttons of his shirt. An untamed tendril teases over one of his brows. Her hands meander from fondling at her own tits, at rogue pieces of yarn in the stitches, to straying up his ink-etched forearms. That’s when he lets her take over the work, when his arms snake over the vale of her waist. When his colossal hands cup lower, when he nudges forward and their mouths brush again. He licks into her mouth and rolls into the gap between her teeth.

Filthy kisses are shrouded behind closed doors, even in the easy ambience of a resort. Furlough on the greedy pursuit of pleasure, on some secluded island with crystalline waters, plus tequila — that’s practically a petri dish for hook up culture. But filthy kisses are saved for the bedroom, and there it’s taste buds doused in citrus limon and gray goose, a tip of a tongue swiping along a row of teeth, basking in the ridges.

“What do you like, little minx?” Harry murmurs. He climbs the column of her throat with the ruddy border of a hungry cavern, and her pulse murmurs back under his mouth. “Hm?”

The blunt tip of his forefinger traces her collarbone, follows a line of cleavage, toys at the cinch in her top; unravels her. It splits down the center, and the straps follow limply down her shoulders. Harry pinches a nipple and scrapes his teeth over her neck, humming again.

Behind closed doors, his red-lycra-mystique (bare, her tits are bare now, in the backdrop of his picture) gets denuded to flesh when she shimmies the dress down her hips. He helps her and then tears his own shirt over his head. It’s hasty, like disrobing takes too much time from a place where time moves slower, riding the water in leisure. Harry still doesn’t know her name, and she slips to her knees, batting her lashes, and takes his buckle apart like unslotting puts the last of the puzzle pieces together.

When her tongue rides under the ridge of his tip, delving and dragging over the prominent vein jutting on the underside of his shaft, he cranes his neck back and makes a sound like she’s torn into his chest with the tips of her french-polished manicure. He punctuates every pornographic, wet sound with dialogue.

“Christ, you’re a dream.”

“Fuck, you’re pretty with cock in your mouth.”

“Yeah, that’s it, just like that, sweetheart.”

“—Y/N,” red-lycra-mystique supplies, gaze bouncing from the twist of her wrists at his base to his face, and then sweeps his bubbling head over her bottom lip and swallows him down halfway.

“Y/N,” Harry mirrors, tone bathed in the same sweetness she radiates at his feet.

And then she trails the very tips of her blunt nails up his sac, and the shiver that rolls up his spine short-circuits every feasible attempt of formulating something in english. Just… gone. Something splinters.

Harry doesn’t cum all over her tongue, despite the pretty mental image he’d cherish of Y/N on her knees with ribbons of silky white coating the insides of her mouth. He thinks about the way he’d dip the pad of his thumb against her tongue, the way he’d stir and scrub it in. He thinks about her lips latching and her cheeks hollowing.

He’s got immense willpower, particularly when she takes him all the way down until her nose nearly brushes the neatly-trimmed tuft of hair the tributary of his happy trail pools into. Because then, she pulls off, chin sloppy with saliva, mouth wide, and stares up at him with this wickedly indelicate curl to the corners of her mouth as she gasps in breaths. Like she wants him to.

Instead, they make it to the bed. He splits her thighs with his palms and spits where she’s puffy and warm, leaky with longing, toying at the seam of her hole with his digits. Smooths the wetness with his thumb when he tucks two fingers in and laves his tongue at the crease between her inner thigh and her cunt. He bumps her clit with the tip and rolls, and her spine arches like the highest point of her torso peaks at the clouds of nirvana.

“You’re a good girl,” Harry tells her, and his voice is so soft, like he’s reassuring an animal that’s backed itself into a corner, “Want you to drench my face.”

And she does, because when he holds a placid, unwavering hand out and talks her so sweetly, lips suckling in a vacuumed ‘o’ between her thighs, what can she do besides roll her hips against his mouth in little, desperate juts, face creased before bliss spumes through every major artery.

When Harry sits back, his chin is sticky, glinting in the buttery cast of the lanterns drilled into the ceiling. He kisses her again until her jaw is stained with her own slick, and despite the entire basis of a one night stand, his tongue meddles into her mouth with the same passion of a man carving a piece of her open. A cozy lacuna just for him in the depths of her chest, something that’ll linger and yearn. A hungry chasm that’ll grumble when her cunt pulses — when he’s not there to fill it. She’ll think of him; a stranger’s leg flitting like a passing speck in the background of her photograph.

Y/N’s cunt hugs him like it can’t get enough.

Eventually.

Because at first, it’s: too big, won’t fit, pleated brows when he’d split her spongy walls apart on the latex-coated tip, stretching to tuck in and hovering to imbibe in miniature ticks of her expression. A twitch in her lashes, a shift in the line of her mouth, a little swallow bobbing down the column of her throat.

“You’re a good girl,” he’d crooned, smoothing a thumb over a rib and then her clit, just to see her squirm more over his cock.

Eventually, she clambers over his lap, planting her palms back over inky, firm muscle. It’s leverage as she bounces to fill that starving cavity — the one he’d drilled with his tongue, like the shape of him can fill every square inch of space before they never see each other again. Hungry, hungry, hungry.

“Come on, baby, come on,” Harry coaxes, a low groan mottled with breathy pants, “—Shit.”

Momentarily, he pauses the guiding grasp he’s got over her hips to drag the pad of his thumb over his tongue lewdly, smearing spit over the digit and swiping circles over her clit, instead. In response, the rolling pace Y/N has set stutters, knees jolting, and her mussed hair spills off her shoulder as she cranes her neck back.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Yes, yes, yes—“

His eyes flit from her cunt to the ethereal line of her neck, the borders of her shoulders, the shape of her tits bouncing.

Ultimately, of course, his gaze winds back down to ogle where they connect, because that’s the view — that’s where she swallows his cock, thighs splayed and trembling, gliding from the tip until about midway before rising and repeating the cycle. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. He draws his thumb lower, lets it meddle where they merge, where her hole flutters and rolls over him, gleaning the sticky arousal that coats his shaft and bringing the pad of it back to her clit. His eyes linger. Flicker up. Return to watch her ride and nearly roll back into his head.

He’s carved the void, and later, when she tips forward and her nails scrape over his pecs, feral, she whittles her own. Later, the space between his thighs aches and heats. Something pulses on the underside of his balls. It yearns for blue curaçao, pellucid, crashing waters, and a skimpy red bikini.

#harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles one shots #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader

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spacedace · 1 year ago

Text

Had a dc x dp brain worm, feel free to use as a prompt <3

Sidenote, I decided to get fancy with the Ancients titles because of course I did lol

Shifting Where = Space (Danny)

Eternal When = Time (Clockwork)

Ever Onward = Speedforce (Ellie)

---

Bruce watched the footage again.

And again.

Again.

It didn’t make sense.

A week ago every television, radio, computer, phone - even the LED billboards - had been taken over to deliver a message. Across the United States. In every territory it held. Every military base. Down in the depths of the oceans where American submarines tried to creep past Atlantian patrols. In the endless cold white of Antarctica. Even far above in the International Space Station. Any place the United States Government had control over, any place one of its citizens found themselves. There was the message.

The face of an entity, human in shape but not in form. Hair as gleaming white as starlight, eyes bright as the twisting dance of the Aurora Borealis, skin as cold and blue as the tail of a comet. The entity wore armor as black as the depths of space with a crown to match, the later glinting and shifting with the twisting birth and death of galaxies. A cloak of nebulae danced down his shoulders, eclipsing the world beyond the entity entirely.

He named himself, jaw tight, expression serious.

High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms.

The Shifting Where. Son of the Eternal When. Father of the Ever Onward. His Epitaphs many and ever growing. The True Balance. The Bridge Between. The Devourer of Dark. The Last Child of Between. The Great One.

King of the Dead. King of the Infinite Worlds. King of so much more than Bruce had ever even known was possible.

King who had declared war. Who marshaled his endless armies. Who spoke of warnings, of efforts to reach a peace, of trying again and again and again to find a way to not plunge into violence and bloodshed. All things living come to call him King in time, he had no want or need to go out and hurry that along. But there were no options left to him now. He had tried for peace. He had been denied.

He would not see his people suffer any longer. Would not see those he’d sworn to lead and protect imprisoned by fools who had sworn themselves enemies to all the afterlives. Would no longer permit the vicious cruelty to continue.

The message was a final warning.

A final offer.

Three days, Phantom said. The United States government would have three days to release their prisoners, to begin the process of dismantling the laws that made death itself an illegal act.

If they refused, he would lead his endless armies personally in the war to come.

It had not been an idle threat.

Three days after the message, after Bruce and the rest of the Justice League scrambled to try and figure out just what it was it was all about, after Justice League Dark’s members shakily took turns explaining just how powerful the being that had gave that message was and how much danger the world was in should he and his armies march upon their world, war came.

Of all places, it began in a town in Illinois.

The sky shattered like broken glass above, Lazarus Green beyond, and the Dead poured out.

It started in Illinois.

It did not end there.

Bruce watched the footage of it all, eyes burning as he watched every second of CCTV footage, every shaky phone camera video, every news broadcast.

Most of them looked human enough. Changed in death, but recognizably human once. A pair of glowing teenagers on a motorcycle, a writhing shadow twisting about at their command sweeping chaos upon the battlefield. A young woman dressed to perform with hair a literal flame, burning bright blue and snapping furiously as she played devastation upon her enemies with her guitar. A child with corpse gray skin and luminescent green hair, flickering in and out of Bruce’s ability to see as if fighting against a law of existence to be visible, screaming orders to a skeleton crew from his place on deck of a 1700s ship that sailed through the sky, disappearing into clouds before raining down attacks from above.

There was more. Glowing skeletons dressed in the fashions of war spanning every culture going back millennia. Robots with weapons far beyond the technology they had even in the League. Creatures of myth and legend. Things of nightmares.

Leading them all, as he had promised, was Phantom.

He looked younger, smaller. Just a boy, really, a gangly teenager that hadn’t quite finished growing into himself. One holding power beyond anything Bruce could ever imagine, but still just a child as far as he could see, no older than Tim who’d just graduated high school. Frantic research found Phantom appearing as far back as human history, but those sightings had to have been after his death. Bruce can’t help but wonder how young the boy had been when he died, how much of that youth still clung to him through all these eons.

It wasn’t something he’d let him self consider normally, not with something like this.

A dangerous unknown appearing without warning and attacking with unimaginable power and seemingly endless forces. It was something that would normally eclipse everything else. Something that would make Bruce put aside the ache at seeing a face so young twisted in rage.

But.

He watched all the footage.

Civilians were put in the crossfire. Were shot at and endangered. Were left terrified and scrambling for safety in buildings that were rapidly being torn away by stray artillery.

But never by Phantom or his armies.

The dead, in fact, went very far out of their way to ensure civilians weren’t harmed. Sweeping people up out of the way of falling debris. Shielding them from attacks that would have most certainly killed a normal human. Some dead even helped evacuate, ushering a frightened and panicked populous to safety as gently as they were capable of. Some of the less human creatures - giant bear-like beings with horns and fangs and ice edging their burly frames - even rushed forward to offer medical aid.

When the sky shattered open and the armies of the dead swept in, they ignored the town below. They focused instead on what was discovered later to be the base of a secretive government agency. The dead’s fight focused on those individuals in sharp white suits, bearing weapons capable of actually injuring King Phantom’s people.

It was these agents that brought the fight to the streets to Amity Park. That fired recklessly and without thought or care to the casualties they could inflict. That didn’t seem to care if they killed a hundred civilians if it meant hurting just one of Phantom’s soldiers.

Bruce watched all the footage.

And again.

Again.

Phantom had declared war.

Phantom spoke in his message of being out of options, of attempting peace. Phantom gave three days time for the release of captives. Phantom lead armies who fought viciously but never once willingly harmed civilians.

Phantom declared war, but he didn’t want it.

“Amanda Waller has reached out.”

Bruce didn’t turn his attention from the screens before him, eyes burning as he followed Phantom as the King dove away from the middle of locked combat to shield a child from a pulse of green energy from something like a grenade another agent in white had carelessly thrown. The child was crying but unharmed. The left pauldron of Phantom’s armor cracked and shattered from a direct shot from the enemy he’d just been fighting that he’d turned his back on, a glowing green liquid uncomfortably like Lazarus Water dripped down from a smoldering wound.

Clark stepped up to stand beside him as he watched, face worn and tired. The League had missed the first battle, but they’d been quick to appear at the rest. Phantom and his army ignored them unless they put themselves purposefully in the way of the fight. They were, as Justice League Dark had warned, vastly out powered by the entities fighting. A hulking giant knight made of shadow riding a nightmarish steed had driven Clark six feet down into the dirt when he’d attempted to make his way to Phantom directly to try and talk to the king.

The depth Clark had ended up felt like a warning of what would happen if he tried to get close to the king again.

It probably was.

“She said they have intel for us.” A faint twitch of fingers, jaw clenching, voice flat in that way that told Bruce his old friend was fighting back anger with everything he had. “That she has options for how to deal with the insurgence.”

Bruce shut off the monitors.

He’d seen enough.

Now was time to get answers to just what, exactly, Amanda Waller and the US government had done to cause the Dead to rise and rage.

---

Part Two Part Three Part Four

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #bruce wayne #clark kent #danny fenton #amanda waller #ghost king danny #ghost zone goes to war #space core danny #ancient of space danny #i'm gonna make ancient of the speedforce Elle a thing if it kills me lol #it just fits so well #Bruce's dad senses are tingling #Fright Knight might have been able to bat Clark away but if Bruce gets within a 100ft of Danny it's game over #Bat-Adoption Papers deployed #BatFam up a new member (or three or six)#Amanda Waller is not going to be as persuasive as she thinks she's going to be when it comes to getting the JL onboard with her plans

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eiralunaire · 2 months ago

Text

Damian Wayne/SirenReader.

Damian Wayne, always in search of moments of solitude and reflection away from Gotham, had decided to explore a coastline isolated from the city. It was not a touristy or well-known place; it was a forgotten corner of the world, where the ocean met imposing cliffs and the rocks formed a kind of natural refuge, ideal for someone looking for a moment of peace.

The sound of the sea hitting the rocks was almost hypnotic, and the salty air filled his lungs as he walked on the wet sand. He had heard ancient legends of that coast, of sea creatures, but he had not paid much attention to them. For someone like Damian, always focused on the real and tangible, those stories were nothing more than myths.

However, that afternoon, something made him stop. As he walked along the edges of the rocks, he glimpsed something unusual in the distance, something that did not fit with the landscape. In the soft light of dusk, he saw a female figure sitting on a large rock, her back to him. What caught his attention was not just the figure, but the silvery glow reflecting around her. It was as if her skin or… scales? captured the sunlight.

The girl seemed to be basking in the afternoon sun, her long hair shining, and her agile hands braiding strands of that hair that seemed to blend with the color of the ocean. From his angle, Damian couldn't see everything clearly, but there was something different about her. Legends began to resonate in his mind.

He moved forward cautiously, his steps silent as always, but even with his training in stealth, a small crunch of sand between the rocks made the female figure suddenly raise her head. Their eyes met for a second. His, dark and cautious; hers, an indescribable color, almost as if they changed with the reflection of the water.

Reader looked at him, her heart beating violently in her chest. The stories of her family came to her mind like a slap of reality. Since she was little, she had heard the warnings of her grandparents and parents in the depths: "Humans are destructive by nature. What they touch, they destroy. They are dangerous and have no mercy for the life they do not understand." And there she was, right in front of one of those humans she had been warned to avoid at all costs.

Her instinct made her react. She let go of the lock of hair she had been braiding and pushed herself into the water. Damian took a step forward, raising his hand by reflex.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, but she had already disappeared into the sea, with a speed that defied any notion of what he believed possible.

From his place, Damian watched as the mermaid's tail sank into the depths, the silver flash disappearing into the dark blue of the ocean. It was real. A mermaid, just as the legends described.

Reader, as he swam quickly, felt his chest oppressed, not from physical effort, but from fear. She knew she had to stay away from humans. Her ancestors had taught her that there was no safe place where humans set foot. She herself had seen, albeit from a distance, how fishing boats cast nets and destroyed marine life without mercy. It was the fear of the unknown, of the incomprehensible.

But something about this human had been different. In the brief eye contact, she had not seen the threat she had always been told she would encounter. There was something else in his eyes, perhaps curiosity or surprise, but not the coldness she had been warned about.

Yet she knew she could not trust him. She could not take any risks.

As she moved further and further away from the coast, her mind kept replaying the encounter. Had she made a mistake in leaving so quickly? But then, the echo of her family's warnings reassured her. She had done the right thing, she told herself, remembering the stories of destruction. After all, humans could not be trusted.

From the shore, Damian stood still for long minutes, looking at the calm water. The sun was setting, painting the sky a soft orange. What he had just seen had no logical explanation, but something in him, in his heart and his instinct, told him that it had not been a simple accident. The mermaid had fled, but something told him that it would not be the last time he would see her.

On his way back, as he walked along the sand, his mind began to work. He did not know if he should investigate more about the legends or let the encounter remain a mystery. What he did know was that, at that moment, he had felt a strange connection with that marine figure. A connection that he could not easily ignore.

Without realizing it, his curiosity, and perhaps something else, was already pushing him towards a new search.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #dcu #dc comics

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celestemona · 21 days ago

Text

DEEP WATERS

pairing: alhaitham x mermaid! reader

in the stillness of tides, alhaitham unearths a mystery long believed to be legend—a mermaid ensnared, with eyes as deep as the ocean and secrets buried in every wave. drawn by fate and enchanted by her silent song, he finds himself caught between myth and reality. in his quest to understand her world, he risks losing his own heart to the uncharted depths.

cw: part i of ii. fem reader, pronouns s/her are mentioned tho it was written in 2nd person. fluff, fluff. female body specifications; long hair! reader, nudity, slight language barrier’ struggles, characters may seem ooc. shoutout to alhaitham for name you. 15.5k words sue me. not proof-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Alhaitham’s day began like any other, filled with the structured predictability he deemed essential.

As Akademiya’s scribe, he was used to working methodically on his tasks, knowing exactly what was needed and never exceeding those limits. Efficiency was a virtue he held in high regard, after all.

But today, at the request of Lesser Lord Kusanali herself, he was dispatched to Port Ormos to investigate some potential concerns involving certain texts arriving from the neighboring nation. A diplomatic matter with Chenyu Vale, she had suggested, that required someone well-versed in logic and languages—a task he could accomplish quickly and with minimal interruption to his personal duties.

Now, as he stood on the outskirts of Port Ormos with his task nearly complete, Alhaitham surveyed the bustling dock.

While Port Ormos often seemed chaotic to him, he couldn’t deny the appeal of watching the ebb and flow of commerce, of lives interwoven in casual exchanges and swift negotiations. But just as he prepared to leave, his attention was drawn to a quieter stretch of the coast, an isolated, rarely visited area far from the main docks. This was usually his kind of place: quiet and solitary.

However, today, the silence was broken by something… peculiar. It wasn’t the rhythmic murmur of the waves or the occasional seagulls that caught his attention, but an odd, strained sound. It was faint but persistent—a low occasional growl mixed with something he couldn’t immediately identify.

Curiosity piqued, Alhaitham allowed his gaze to scan the sandy stretch. There was no one else in sight; no sailors, no matras. This area seemed entirely deserted, only adding to the mystery.

He approached cautiously, his trained eyes alert with every movement. Then, amidst the scattered shells and seaweed, he saw it: a glimpse of something familiar yet entirely strange.

A tail. Long, dark, and unmistakably fish-like, though far more mesmerizing in its iridescent palette and certainly larger than any common marine animal. Its dark blue with a touch of gray caught the light and shimmered with shifting hues as the waves lapped gently over it.

Alhaitham’s breath hitched as his gaze traveled from the fish tail to its source, finally landing on the figure trapped in a tangled mess of fishing net.

This was no ordinary sea creature. No. It was a mermaid.

For a man who prided himself on his calm and logical demeanor, Alhaitham felt an undeniable wave of disbelief and fascination wash over him.

Mermaids were, at best, myths—Fontaine tales told in taverns and old children’s books. In his days as a student, he had skimmed the sparse historical mentions of mermaids, intrigued by their academic mystery, though ultimately dismissing them as baseless stories. Historians had little to offer about them—no language to decipher, no artifacts to study. It was all speculative, fantasy stories wrapped in the very mystique of the sea. And now, here you were, a very real mermaid right before him.

Your form was incredibly otherworldly, almost surreal in its beauty. Long hair clung to your shoulders and breasts, darkened by the water and tangled with delicate, glistening pearls, while the scales on your arms and ribs caught the faint light. But it was your face, contorted with a mixture of fear and frustration, that held him in place. Your sharp eyes, almost snake-like, blinked warily as you noticed his approach, and a low growl escaped your throat, an instinctive warning.

Alhaitham took a deep breath, grounding himself in reality. This creature—no, this mermaid—wasn’t just a legend he could dismiss. You were tangible, vulnerable, and caught in a trap you clearly couldn’t escape from.

Kneeling out of your reach, he chose his movements with calculated care. “Easy there,” he murmured, his tone neutral yet soft, more for his own benefit than yours. He doubted you’d understand, but it was instinctive to try and soothe you. He slowly extended a hand, palm open, hoping you could see he meant no harm.

Your sharp gaze tracked his every movement, a soft, cautious hiss slipping from your lips. You moved your tail against the net, trying once again to free yourself, but the more you struggled, the tighter the net seemed to trap you. Alhaitham’s gaze dropped to your bare torso, noticing the faint shimmer of scales marred by bruises, likely from your attempts to break free.

He looked back at you, meeting your wary, defiant gaze. Your intelligence was unmistakable—in your eyes, he could see a spark of recognition and caution. You knew he was a threat, but also, perhaps, your only chance.

“Alright,” he said, as if reasoning with a wild creature, and began to move carefully toward the edge of the net. You tensed, the sharp gleam of your canines visible as you bared your teeth in warning. Alhaitham paused, feeling a mix of danger and a strange empathy.

“Relax,” he said softly, ensuring his gestures were as non-threatening as possible. You continued to watch him, your expression still wary but curious. Up close, he could see your long, sharp nails, the delicate, translucent membranes between your fingers and the subtle rise and fall of your gills as you breathed shallowly and anxiously. Your beauty was undeniable but in a way that felt unreal, beyond anything he had ever encountered.

Alhaitham slowly reached for the knife at his belt, the blade glinting in the faint light. Your eyes narrowed, a low, almost inaudible growl escaping as you observed him. “I’m here to help,” he assured, keeping his tone calm, as if you could understand his intent through his voice alone.

As he brought the blade closer to the tangled net, your body went rigid, muscles tensing as if ready to spring—or strike. Your gaze locked onto his, every line of your body taut, your breathing shallow and rapid. For a brief moment, he paused, meeting your gaze with a nod of understanding, as if to say: Trust me, just for now.

With practiced ease, he cut a few threads, loosening the net just enough to give you some room. You flinched, your tail contracting involuntarily, but you didn’t pull away, allowing him to continue his work. He cut it carefully, each movement deliberate, keeping his own breathing steady as he watched your response.

He couldn’t help but wonder at the absurdity of it all. Here he was, the notorious and logical Scribe of the Akademiya, performing a rescue for something—or someone—he once dismissed as pure fantasy. The tales he had brushed aside as stories seemed to dissolve before this living being. Yet his mind continued to spin with questions he couldn’t suppress: How did you end up here, trapped in this net? And what would become of you now?

As he cut the last thread, he noticed your injured tail more clearly, a long red line seeping through the translucent scales. A frown crossed his face as he sheathed the knife, feeling the faintest pang of concern.

“You’re hurt,” he said quietly, not knowing if you would understand him. You shifted slightly, flexing your tail as if testing your freedom, your expression cautious but no longer as frantic. Your eyes met his again, and for a moment, something like gratitude flashed in your gaze—fleeting, almost imperceptible, but there.

He couldn’t help but smile slightly, feeling a pull of fascination, his mind instinctively cataloging every feature, every movement.

Yet Alhaitham’s thoughts clicked into the details of the situation with calculated precision.

He observed the desolate stretch of beach where he found you, far removed from the main port and any regular fishing route. This area was more of a neglected backwater than a place frequented by locals, let alone fishermen. He was certain you hadn’t been captured here intentionally; instead, you must have ventured here alone, in danger or by mistake, only to be caught by the tangled mess of nets, possibly abandoned by a passing fishing boat.

He looked back at you, his analytical gaze softening slightly. Faced with this new reality, you bore little resemblance to the wild, monstrous figures folklore sometimes suggested. You were undeniably alive, aware, and your beauty, strange and striking, had an almost hypnotic quality.

But despite his attempts at rational analysis, concern rooted itself as he examined your injuries.

The wound on your tail continued bleeding slowly, deep crimson droplets blending into the sea water. He didn’t know how long you had been trapped, but the blood loss, however gradual, could spell trouble if left untreated. There was also the issue of eremites and mercenaries who roamed the outskirts of Port Ormos, not to mention treasure hunters and opportunists. You’d be a prize beyond imagination for many of them if they found you in this weakened state…

The weight of your expectant gaze held him in the moment, your snake-like eyes gleaming with suspicion and interest. You watched him closely, trying to understand him as he studied you. He could see in the slight press of your lips, as if bracing to hiss or growl, ready to flee if needed. But he also noticed that, even in your obvious wariness, there was a glimmer of something more—a reluctant trust, perhaps, that he wasn’t here to harm you.

He took a careful step forward, his voice calm. “Can you understand me?” he asked, each word slow and deliberate.

Silence, save for the rhythmic lap of waves against the shore.

Opting to approach you through another means, Alhaitham raised a hand to his chest, fingertips gently pressing over his heart. He met your eyes, holding your gaze firmly, and said, “Alhaitham,” keeping his voice low, repeating the name once more, “Al-Haitham,” drawing each syllable with deliberate clarity.

You head tilted cutely, eyes blinking expressively. You watched his gesture, your gaze lingering on the hand over his heart, as if trying to decipher the meaning in his movements and tone. He could see your intrigue, the silent intelligence behind your eyes suggesting that, though there was no response, his words had not entirely gone unnoticed.

Satisfied to have given you something to hold onto, Alhaitham took a deep breath to calm himself.

Internally, the scribe wrestled with a series of difficult choices. Returning you to the sea seemed the most logical path, but there was no certainty that you’d survive the injuries. And considering the bystanders lingering in the area, leaving you there could be even more risky. On the other hand, bringing you to his own home was… complicated. The logistics alone were challenging. He lived a fair distance from Port Ormos—nearly half an hour by walking—and carrying you the entire way risked exposure for both you and himself.

As he turned these options over in his mind, you shifted slightly, a barely audible groan revealing you discomfort. The sight stirred an unexpected protectiveness within him. Practicality aside, leaving you in that state wasn’t an option he could consider.

He crouched beside you once again, his expression softening when he met your gaze. “It seems you’ve left me with little choice,” he murmured, half to himself. “I’ll have to find a way to take you with me.”

You blinked, your gaze never leaving him.

When he extended his hand toward you, you immediately stiffened and hissed aggressively, your body tensing as if bracing for what might come next. Alhaitham kept his movements slow and deliberate, waiting until the tension in your shoulders eased enough. When he placed a careful hand beneath you, your damp skin was smooth, cool to the touch, and your scales gleamed slightly even in the last traces of sunlight. Your breathing steadied, though he could still feel your persistent nerves.

He thought for a moment, gauging your weight, and realized it’d be challenging to carry you all the way to his home without attracting attention. He glanced back at the main harbor, then at you, pondering an alternative solution.

Then his eyes landed on an old wooden cart leaning against the weathered side of a nearby storage shed. The cart was small, probably used to transport boxes of fish or bags of supplies from the coast, with thick wheels designed to handle rough paths. Judging by the nets and equipment scattered around it, it likely belonged to a fisherman or trader who had left it unattended for the day.

With a hint of reluctance, Alhaitham assessed the cart and the possible risks of borrowing it. But practicality won out; the cart was discreet and functional, a solution he couldn’t ignore.

Carefully, he carried you toward the cart, moving at a steady, unhurried pace to keep your calm. You were clearly frightened, your body tensing slightly as he approached the cart, but your eyes remained focused on him, not on the unfamiliar contraption.

“It’s the best I can do for now,” he murmured, his tone gentler, as he placed a soft cloth he had found along the cart’s surface, creating a makeshift cushion over the rough wood.

Slowly, he guided you to sit, your injured tail carefully positioned on the padding. Your eyes darted between him and the cart, a flicker of nervousness visible in the way your fingers clenched and relaxed, but you stayed still, watching him intently as he adjusted the cloth around you.

Once he was certain you were settled, he grasped the iron handle of the cart and began to pull, setting a careful yet steady rhythm. The journey ahead was longer than he had anticipated, and he kept his attention on the road, his mind flooded with questions he couldn’t yet answer.

As you both traced the more secluded paths back to his home, Alhaitham found himself glancing over his shoulder at you, curiosity mingling with a cautious sense of awe. The sound of the cart’s wheels rolling over the uneven path filled the silence between you two, a strangely rhythmic backdrop for his swirling thoughts.

This encounter was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He had encountered beings as mythical as they were magical during his studies, but mermaids—real mermaids—had always been a subject wrapped in mystery and skepticism. And now here he was, with a living, breathing mystery being carried by him in an old, borrowed cart, with questions he could hardly begin to ask.

As he neared home, Alhaitham’s thoughts began to drift toward Kaveh, his housemate. The scribe knew he had the right to bring anyone he wanted into his own home, yet he couldn’t entirely ignore the small tug of doubt about what the architect might think of this stranger among them—especially given the undeniable peculiarity of the situation.

When they finally arrived, Alhaitham noticed an unusual stillness in the cart.

Looking back, he was startled to find you breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling with visible effort. Your eyelids fluttered, your gaze unfocused and barely registering your surroundings. He had assumed you were silent due to simple exhaustion, but now he could see your strength waning; the wound on your tail was no longer bleeding heavily, but your skin had lost its previous luster, becoming dull and slightly pale.

He realized, with a start, that you had likely been out of the water for too long, your injuries worsening your condition. Without a second thought, he lifted you into his arms, your weight shifting in his hold as he carefully cradled you against his chest. Your skin was colder than he had expected, and you barely reacted, your head drooping slightly to one side as he carried you through the entrance.

The house was quiet, he noticed. Kaveh was probably finishing a project or relaxing at the local tavern. In a way, it was a relief; Alhaitham didn’t want to face questions yet, not when every minute counted. Quickly, he headed to his suite, knowing the bathroom there would be the best place to stabilize you.

Reaching the bathroom, the scribe laid you on the floor, leaning you against the wall while he turned on the bathtub’s faucet. The water splashed and rose in the tub, filling the room with a soft, familiar sound, and he carefully tested the temperature, ensuring it was comfortable for you.

Once the tub was full, he returned to your side, sliding his arms around you to lift you again, and gently submerged you in the water.

The effect was almost immediate. The tension in your shoulders began to ease, your body relaxing as you adjusted to the gentle embrace of the water. Your tail submerged partially, the scales faintly shimmering as your breathing began to steady. You blinked slowly, your eyes finally regaining some clarity, and your gaze turned to him once more.

Alhaitham found himself watching you, captivated. The way you moved in the water was like observing a creature in its natural element; you were graceful, serene, each of your movements fluid and instinctive, even in such a small space. For a moment, you seemed almost at peace, adjusting to your new environment with a slight sense of wonder.

After a while, Alhaitham sat on a stool nearby, examining the wound on your tail with a more clinical gaze. The cut looked deeper up close, irregular and red along the edges, likely worsened by your struggle against the net.

Carefully, he extended his hand toward it, intending to assess the damage — but at the first touch, you recoiled, a soft yet distinct growl rumbling in your throat. Your eyes locked onto his hand, narrowing in a sharp warning.

“Easy,” he said softly, his voice measured and calm. “I just want to help.”

You held his gaze, still defensive, your eyes distrustful and unyielding.

Alhaitham considered his options, realizing he needed to show you his intentions. Slowly, he rolled up his sleeve, exposing a small area of his forearm. Using a small, sterilized knife from the medical kit he kept nearby, he made a small cut. Without breaking eye contact, he took a roll of bandages and tended to the wound, pressing a small cloth to it to stop the bleeding, then securing it with careful precision.

You watched intently, your sharp eyes following every movement as he applied the bandage and finished his demonstration. He extended his hand, showing you the process was harmless, then gestured toward your injured tail with a look of gentle insistence.

Your gaze shifted from the bandaged arm to his face, and then, slowly, you relented, your tail moving toward him in a tentative gesture of trust.

Alhaitham excused and his fingers moved over the surface of your tail, the scales cool and smooth under his touch, a strange blend of softness and strength. He found himself fascinated by the texture, each scale catching faint glimmers of color as he carefully cleaned the wound and applied a thin layer of antiseptic balm.

Your reaction was hesitant, but you didn’t resist, your gaze fixed on him with a mix of attentiveness and intrigue. Alhaitham was silent, focusing on his task, though he couldn’t shake the strange sensation of examining something so mythical, so utterly otherworldly.

When he finished, he moved back a bit, giving you space to adjust and settle into the bathtub.

For a moment, the room fell silent, and Alhaitham realized you were likely hungry. Recalling his pantry, he remembered there were some canned fish—a simple, if humble, option. He rose, nodding apologetically before heading to the kitchen.

There, he grabbed the can and opened it, the salty, familiar scent wafting into the air. When he returned, you watched him with expectant eyes, your curiosity rekindled. He sat beside the tub again and offered the food, waiting to see how you would react. At first, you wrinkled your nose, suspicion shining in your gaze, but after a moment, you carefully took a piece, chewing it timidly.

It was as if a switch had been flipped. You devoured the rest with surprising intensity, your hunger evident as you finished the fish with quick, eager bites. When you looked back at him, pupils dilated and gleaming, your expression softened into something almost sweet. The unguarded look, the silent request in your face, caught him off guard—you wanted more.

A slight smile played on his lips, amused by your sudden change. Without saying a word, he grabbed another can, opened it, and offered it to you. You accepted it with the same voracious energy, and he found himself even more captivated, watching you eat with a fascination that was part analytical, part genuine curiosity, a faint hint of acceptance surfacing.

“So that’s all it takes to earn your trust, huh? Just a bit of food,” he remarked, his voice carrying a tone of entertainment as he straightened on the stool, arms crossed. His eyes gleamed with rare humor, the softened edge that few had ever seen. When he chuckled, you looked up, momentarily intrigued by the sound.

But that lightness faded as his mind returned to the current situation, his brow furrowing in quiet thought.

Alhaitham couldn’t help but feel unsettled by the scene of this creature from myth, an enigma he could barely believe was real, now looking at him from his bathtub. And he, a man usually content with the solitude of his own space, was now bound to share it with you, a mystery he found himself inevitably drawn to.

He took a deep breath and leaned toward you, his fingers interlacing.

“Where did you come from, huh?” he asked, his voice softer this time, as if coaxing an answer. “How did you end up here in Sumeru of all places?”

Each question felt like a whisper, a thread he was following in search of answers he wasn’t sure you even had.

His gaze lingered on your face, his eyes softened as he searched for some hint of recognition, something that would give him insight into the untold story you carried. But you only tilted your head, watching him with those beautiful, sharp, and intrigued eyes, and he sighed, recognizing that these questions might not yield anything for now.

With a contemplative look, he continued, more to himself now, “I don’t know how long you’ll be staying here, but…” His gaze drifted to the edge of the tub. “We’ll need to get past this language barrier,” he said, watching you carefully, noticing how you seemed to respond, if not to his words, then at least to his tone. You might not have spoken yet, but he had a strong suspicion you understood more than he initially thought.

He straightened up again, arms crossed over his chest, already planning his next steps. “Teaching you some basics should be manageable,” he mused. “You seem smart. I’ll start with simple words. Maybe that’ll give us some common ground.”

His thoughts briefly wandered to the Akademiya’s library. The House of Daena held numerous books and journals, fragments of knowledge, notes from scholars who had studied all sorts of myths. Perhaps there was something in those pages that could hold the answers he needed. He’d make a point to return there tomorrow.

Lost in thought, he murmured, “I can’t keep you in the tub forever, either. We’ll have to address that eventually.” His voice trailed off as he considered the situation more practically. For now, the tub would suffice, but it was far from a long-term solution.

You followed his every movement, though it was clear your interest was more in your surroundings than in him.

Occasionally, your gaze would drift from the dim candlelight to the strange objects decorating the bathroom, absorbing each detail of this world that was foreign to you. Alhaitham found himself staring at you, surprised at how naturally you seemed to fit into the space—a strange contrast considering you were a creature of the water, yet here you were, curious and present in the heart of his world.

Moments passed in silence, both lost in separate thoughts—Alhaitham weighing his options.

Some time later, he noticed the way your eyes began to close, your body finally giving in to the day’s exhaustion. You leaned against the edge of the tub, breathing softly, eyelids heavy. A faint, almost affectionate smile crossed his lips as he murmured, “A long day, no doubt.”

With a low chuckle, he straightened, adjusting the dim lighting to give you peace. “Goodnight,” he said softly, letting the silence of the bathroom settle over you as he returned to his suite.

Once in his room, he shed the day’s fatigue along with his usual attire, slipping into more comfortable clothing. Yet even as he tried to shift his focus, his thoughts returned to you. The mystery of who you were, what you were, haunted him in the most unexpected ways. Every answer led to another question, but that wasn’t the unsettling part. No—it was the quiet fascination you stirred within him, a desire to unravel that he never had felt before.

Heading to the kitchen, he prepared a quick meal for himself. He served a simple broth, letting it simmer as he went over the potential tasks for tomorrow.

Pay a visit to the Akademiya’ library was a must, he concluded. Perhaps he could find some records that might offer insights into mermaid lore.

But there was more to consider—how would he navigate the practicalities of living alongside you? How’d Kaveh react to your existence? The solution to the language barrier seemed a smart move, but could you communicate in the same way humans did? The thoughts accumulated, persisting as he carried his food back to his chair.

Settling in with a book about the different cultures of the desert tribes, Alhaitham tried to immerse himself in its pages, though his eyes drifted now and then toward his suite door. There was a strange sense of responsibility he couldn’t ignore.

When he had read as much as his mind would allow for the night, he got up, walking quietly to the bathroom to check on you one last time.

You were there. You were real.

The faintest trace of a smile crossed his face as he saw you sleeping, your body half-submerged in the water, your tail draped over the side of the tub. The room fell into a gentle silence, the soft rhythm of your breathing the only sound.

He lingered there for a moment longer than necessary, his mind reluctantly calming as he absorbed the peace of the moment. Finally, he closed the door and turned, heading back to his room.

After finishing his nightly routines somewhere else, Alhaitham lay in bed, his thoughts wavering between the strange events of the day and the mysteries tomorrow would bring. But tonight, he allowed himself a rare luxury: to set aside the unknown, choosing instead to let the calm of the moment settle over him.

With one last lingering thought of you, he let sleep claim him, already aware that his life had changed, subtly but irrevocably, the moment he found you.

When the first rays of dawn slipped into the room, Alhaitham woke, his mind returning to the surreal events of the previous day.

For a brief moment, he wondered if it had all been a trick of his tired mind, but the memory of your cautious yet inquisitive gaze quickly dismissed the notion. Getting up, he adjusted his clothes and headed to the bathroom, his mind already reflecting on the day’s responsibilities—and the unique situation of having a mermaid as an unexpected guest.

Opening the bathroom door, he was greeted by the sight of you already awake, fingers trailing through the water with a kind of childlike curiosity. As soon as you sensed his presence, you lifted your head, and he was met with what could only be described as a warm, welcoming look. Your sharp, reflective eyes held a glimmer of trust, hesitant but undeniably there, as if his arrival was something to be anticipated rather than feared.

Alhaitham felt a small smile tug at his lips as he observed your response, taking it as a sign that you were becoming accustomed to him.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice softened by the quietness of the early hour.

The words seemed to capture your attention even more closely, though he knew the meaning might be lost on you. Still, he kept his tone gentle, observing the way you seemed to listen, almost as if searching for something familiar in his voice. “I see you’re feeling at home,” there was a hint of amusement in his tone, his eyes flicking to the water you were swirling with your fingers.

Turning to the sink, he splashed water on his face and grabbed his toothbrush, methodically following the movements of his morning routine. He was aware of your gaze, fixed on each motion, following the toothbrush in his hand as he brought it to his mouth. Pausing, he looked at you, the faintest smile curving his lips as he leaned back against the sink.

“Curious now, aren’t we? It’s a toothbrush. We use it to… well, keep our teeth clean,” he explained, though he had no real expectation that you’d understand. Nevertheless, there was something strangely satisfying about sharing these little details with you, as if guiding you through the peculiarities of human life.

You watched him closely, your eyes darting between the toothbrush, the sink, and the running water. The slight confusion on your face was so genuine, so openly curious, that he found himself chuckling quietly. “I suppose none of this makes sense to you. But we humans have our habits.”

When he finished, Alhaitham straightened, casting one last look in your direction before heading to the door. “I’ll bring you some breakfast,” he said, as much out of habit as anything else, already noting the slight inquisitive tilt of your head. He lingered a moment longer than necessary, almost reluctant to leave the room, before finally heading to the kitchen to prepare for the day.

Entering the kitchen, he found Kaveh already there, hunched over a cup of coffee with a look that bordered on pure misery. The dark circles under his eyes and his slow, almost agonizing sips of coffee told Alhaitham everything he needed to know.

“Rough night?” Alhaitham’s tone was clearly teasing, though he made little effort to hide his mild disapproval. Kaveh didn’t even bother looking up, merely muttering something unintelligible as he stared at his mug.

“Don’t start,” the other man grumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. “It’s too early for your lectures.”

Alhaitham’s lips twitched in mockery, barely hiding an ironic smile. “Lectures? Hardly. Just an observation. Maybe a bit of moderation would do you good.”

Kaveh scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Moderation isn’t exactly your strong suit either, judging by the amount of research papers scattered around.” He drained his coffee, muttering something about Alhaitham’s inability to keep the house organized and stumbled toward his room, the door closing with a weary thud behind him.

Shaking his head, Alhaitham turned his attention to the fridge, rummaging through its contents with a quiet purpose. He picked a selection of food he hoped might appeal to you—some leftover shrimp, dried fish, and a few other options he thought might please a creature of the sea.

Returning to you, he noticed how your gaze instantly brightened at the sight of the food he held. A barely concealed smile crossed his face as he watched your eager expression, the way you leaned forward slightly, anticipation evident in your wide eyes.

“I see I’ve already discovered the key to earning your trust,” he commented with a soft chuckle, placing the food beside the tub. “A little food, and suddenly I’m not so intimidating.”

Sitting on the stool near the tub, he watched you as you picked up the shrimp, a glimmer of wonder followed by the same fervor with which you had devoured last night’s meal. The moment you tasted it, your expression shifted to one of contentment, and he couldn’t help but be amused by how expressive you were.

“Listen,” he began in a conversational tone, though he knew the full implications were likely lost on you, “I’ll need to be away for a while,” he paused, as if weighing his words. “However, in the meantime, I’ll also check if there’s anything that might be useful for understanding your situation.”

You looked up briefly, eyes attentive, and Alhaitham felt a spark of satisfaction at your apparent focus. It was as if, despite the language barrier, some part of you had grasped the importance of his words.

He continued, a thoughtful tone in his voice, “Besides, I can’t leave you in the bathtub indefinitely, so I’ll work on a more appropriate solution. I’d like to have it back, after all,” he paused, almost speaking to himself, “Then, there’s Kaveh too who I should approach the current subject but I can deal with him later. The most important now is figure out how we’re gonna work on building your vocabulary. Just enough so we can understand each other.”

The statement lingered in the air, half a plan and half a promise.

Alhaitham realized he was already thinking about putting his plans in action, wondering if he might start teaching you simple words and phrases as soon as possible. His fingers tapped absently on his knee as he considered the logistics, the potential challenges—and rewards—of bridging that language gap.

From time to time, your gaze fell on him, as if assessing his intentions, though it didn’t take long before your focus shifted again, captivated by something else now that sunlight bright your surroundings. He marveled at your ability to find fascination in the simplest things, and for a brief moment, he felt a strange pang of something he couldn’t quite identify—a bubbling discomfort in his stomach, almost unsettling.

The silence became comfortable, broken only by the occasional soft sound of the water and you eating.

Alhaitham’s gaze drifted to the soft morning light stretching across the bathroom floor, and he suddenly realized he’d lost track of time.

A sigh escaped him as he finally rose from his seat. “Looks like that’s my cue.”

Your gaze followed him, an imperceptible questioning look in your eyes that made him chuckle softly. “What?” he said, his voice gentler. “I may not understand where you came from, but I’ll make sure you’re comfortable here.”

With one last look, he left the room to gather his things and prepare for work.

As he adjusted his attire, his thoughts returned to the moments you’d spent observing him—a feeling that lingered, even as he headed to the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee.

Before leaving, he returned to check on you one last time and considered whether or not to lock the bedroom door. He doubted you’d drag yourself around the house and was sure Kaveh wouldn’t intrude on his privacy. So, he only closed the door and make his way to the exit.

He cast one last look behind him before leaving his home and heading toward the Akademiya.

At his work, Alhaitham went through the day with practiced ease.

The tasks before him were routine; his hands swiftly leafed through documents, marking necessary corrections and assessing reports without losing pace. Occasionally, a colleague would pass by with a nod or a brief greeting, which he returned in his usual, calm manner, though his thoughts kept drifting back to you. He found himself wondering how you were doing, alone and adjusting to the strange, new world of his home.

During lunch, he took a detour to the House of Daena.

The familiar shelves surrounded him, but he was focused, his eyes scanning the spines of books and journals, all marked with references to the ancient legends and myths of Teyvat. Thanks to his access to restricted areas, he pored over some of the oldest and rarest manuscripts, hoping to glean at least a trace of knowledge about mermaids.

Most entries were vague at best—poetic reflections, scattered notes from long-dead historians, and tales from Fontaine that seemed like fables. However, he gathered hints that mermaids, if they existed, were mysterious beings known for their enchantments and charm over men, with powers beyond human understanding. Intriguing, though frustratingly incomplete.

As the sun began to set, Alhaitham finally left the office.

On his way home, he stopped by a nearby fishmonger’s stall. Fresh seafood was piled high—crabs, shrimp, mussels. Selecting a variety, he figured you would enjoy the options. Just as he was reaching for his mora pouch, he spotted Kaveh rushing toward him from across the plaza, his usually composed friend looking distinctly out of sorts.

“Alhaitham!” Kaveh’s voice was breathless, incredulous, as he skidded to a halt beside him. “You—you need to go home. Right now!”

The scribe raised an eyebrow. “Good to see you too. But if you notice, I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Kaveh said, nervously running a hand through his hair. “There’s—there’s a naked woman in our kitchen!”

Both Alhaitham and the vendor froze, the scribe’s mind, thouggh, racing a mile a minute. Kaveh looked genuinely shaken, his cheeks flushed, eyes wide with a mix of panic and disbelief.

“A woman…?” Alhaitham repeated, the words slipping out as he tried to process what his friend had said.

“Yes! A very naked woman! In our kitchen!” Kaveh’s voice dropped to a hiss. “She’s just—she’s in there, rummaging through the food like she owns the place!”

The realization hit Alhaitham like a shock, his pulse quickening. He barely acknowledged the merchant’s chocked stare as he turned, leaving his purchases behind as he quickly made his way home. Kaveh struggled to keep up, throwing his hands in the air.

“Alhaitham, what’s going on? Do you know something? I should’ve known I wasn’t imagining things when I heard voices coming from your room this morning. Since when do you bring women home without even giving me a heads-up? And—she’s stunning! But who—what—?”

Alhaitham didn’t respond. His mind was a whirlwind of questions, scenarios, and a strange, unexpected excitement tinged with worry. He’d hoped you’d stay in the bathtub—not creating legs and wandering around defenseless.

Kaveh was still talking, ranting in exasperation, but Alhaitham only caught fragments.

“Just… be quiet for a moment,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the path as his pace quickened.

Upon arriving home, he opened the door cautiously, Kaveh practically breathing down his neck. Heading toward the kitchen, he felt a palpable tension. And then he saw you.

You were in the center of it, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun streaming through the windows. Your human form was… breathtaking. The long, now-dry locks of your hair cascaded over your shoulders, reaching your waist, framing your face with an ethereal quality that somehow amplified your beauty tenfold. Your features—sharp yet soft, and your eyes, still carrying that same hint of mystery and allure—caught the light, leaving him speechless.

Your skin seemed to glow, luminous in a way that appeared almost otherworldly. And you were indeed very, very naked.

His gaze remained, caught between awe and sheer disbelief. You were in his kitchen, the same creature he had found tangled in the fishing net, and yet, looking at you now, he couldn’t help but feel utterly captivated.

Kaveh stammered beside him, his face bright red as he averted his gaze. “Alhaitham, seriously! Are you going to explain this or just keep staring?”

Snapping out of his trance, Alhaitham cleared his throat, masking his surprise with a carefully neutral expression. He stepped forward, catching your attention. “You… You’re human now,” he murmured, almost to himself, the amazement still lingering in his voice.

You looked up, meeting his gaze with a glint of recognition and curiosity. In that moment, Alhaitham felt a faint trace of familiarity in your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between you.

Then, to his surprise, you opened your mouth, and a single soft word escaped.

“‘Haitham.”

Alhaitham’s eyes widened. His name—or a version of it—spoken in your voice for the first time.

A strange warmth spread through him as he heard it, his own name seeming to carry an unexpected weight, as if imbued with the raw honesty of a first word. He barely had time to process it before you stepped closer and gently pulled his face toward yours, brushing the tip of your nose against his.

Kaveh let out an audible gasp beside him, his face flooding with color as he stumbled back, practically tripping over his own feet. “Archons above! What is happening to the world?” His voice was nearly a squeak as he pressed himself against the far wall, looking like he might faint from the shock.

Alhaitham, though not someone easily perturbed, found himself momentarily frozen, his pulse quickening as he processed your action. He had read about mermaid customs, albeit only briefly in fragmented records, but it occurred to him that this gesture might mean something— perhaps a greeting, a way of recognizing trust and acceptance.

With that realization, his surprise softened into something closer to warmth. The gesture felt innocent, sincere. Alhaitham’s lips curved upward, and his eyes softened as he met yours. “So, that’s how you say ‘hello,’” he murmured, his voice low, as if not wanting to break the moment.

You tilted your head, amusement gleaming in your gaze for the first time, as if you could somehow sense his thoughts. Meanwhile, Kaveh, still pressed against the wall, looked on with equal parts horror and disbelief.

“Oh, I’m going to lose my mind,” he muttered, covering his eyes as if to give the two of you some privacy. “Alhaitham, please tell me you have some kind of explanation for this—this whole situation.”

Ignoring the other man’s confused state, Alhaitham took a step back. “You surprised me,” he said, his voice softened, warmth in his tone. “I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t even sure if you could take on a human form, let alone speak so quickly.” He managed a small smile, the corners of his lips curling as he realized he had far more to learn about you than he initially thought.

Kaveh, still covering his eyes with one hand, muttered, “Unbelievable! You're still talking? Only you'd find yourself in this situation and still stay calm.”

Alhaitham shot him a brief look, though he couldn’t entirely blame him. Turning to you, he gently gestured for you to follow. “Come. Let’s find something for you to wear.”

As you followed him, Alhaitham tried to ignore Kaveh’s incredulous expression. He knew he’d be bombarded with questions later, but for now, all that mattered was getting you settled, dressed, and perhaps—if possible—beginning to understand the mystery you had brought into his life.

Alhaitham’s clothes hung loosely on you, but he found a way to tie them securely, adjusting the sleeves and waistband as comfortably as possible.

While he dressed you, his eyes always averting when they fell on your exposed intimates, you looked down at yourself, wide-eyed and fascinated, tilting your head as if entranced by the strange, soft fabric now covering your skin. He noticed how you examined each new sensation—the way the sleeves brushed against your arms, how the fabric rested on your shoulders, and the feeling of something covering your legs. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you try to make sense of it all.

Once he ensured you were clothed, your wound tended, and provided with food that seemed to delight you, Alhaitham guided you back to the main room, where Kaveh awaited.

The architect’s mouth fell open as he observed your every movement, absorbing how you moved with a blend of grace and wonder, entirely captivated by each new detail around you. Blissfully unaware of their gazes, you seemed utterly fascinated by how your own feet flexed and moved, watching them with open curiosity as if they were little, curious creatures.

Kaveh broke the silence, his eyes still wide with disbelief. “Alright… start explaining, or I might think I’m hallucinating. Or still drunk.”

Ever practical, Alhaitham recounted the events precisely, detailing how he found you entangled in fishing nets, the injury you’d suffered, and his decision to bring you home to heal.

“I didn’t know if she would survive in the wild with her injuries,” he added, his tone practical, though he couldn’t help glancing at you to make sure you were still comfortable. “It seemed the most reasonable option.”

Kaveh nodded slowly, his expression blank as he pieced together the story. “So, you’re saying she’s not just some random woman, but actually a mermaid—a living legend—and you decided to bring her here.” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a low whistle. “I can’t say I blame you. But… what do you plan to do next?”

Alhaitham crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “She’s free to leave whenever she wants. But with her injury”—he gestured subtly to your bandaged leg—“I doubt she’ll go far. Until she heals, she’ll stay here, and I’ll try to learn as much as I can. We still know so little about her species.”

Kaveh raised an eyebrow. “You realize what you’re saying, right? We’re talking about a mermaid, not just some stray animal you can study. People would pay a fortune just to catch a glimpse of her. She could be in real danger if someone else, or even the Akademiya, finds out.”

Alhaitham didn’t waver. “I’m well aware. That’s why, for now, she stays here. I’ll be careful.”

Kaveh, even relunctantly, nodded, his concern gradually shifting to fascination as he watched you stretch your legs, then flex your feet experimentally, giggling with delight.

“Does she understand us? I mean, can she speak our language since she had said your name a while ago?”

A faint smile played at the corner of Alhaitham’s lips. “She’s getting the hang of it.”

Kaveh brightened, leaning forward with a smile. “Ah, well, in that case…” He pointed to himself, speaking slowly and clearly, “Kaveh!”

Your gaze quickly lifted from your feet to study Kaveh, and you seemed to pay considerable attention to his name. With your brows slightly furrowed, you tilted your head, then murmured softly, “Haitham.”

Kaveh’s smile faltered, his face contorting in confusion as he shot Alhaitham an incredulous look, who was suppressing an amused look.

Determined, Kaveh repeated his name, louder this time. “Kaveh,” he insisted, as if pure repetition would yield better results.

You watched him with a mixture of curiosity and slight confusion, though a barely perceptible glimmer of pure mischief crossed your eyes. Confident, you repeated again: “Haitham.”

Alhaitham couldn’t hold back. A low chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head, watching Kaveh’s patience fray as he let out a dramatic sigh.

“Oh, I get it,” Kaveh muttered, crossing his arms and pouting. “I’m just the ��other guy,’ huh?”

“She’s learning,” Alhaitham reassured, a faint but warm smile touching his lips. “It’ll take time, and she seems to have chosen a starting point.” He looked at you, his gaze softened. This didn’t escape the architect’s sharp eyes, who raised an eyebrow subtly.

In the end, Kaveh rolled his eyes but couldn’t fully hide a smile. “Well, I suppose I’m honored to be in her presence anyway,” his gaze lingered on you, his voice softening with a kind of reverence. “It’s still hard to believe. This—this is actually real.”

Alhaitham’s gaze shifted from Kaveh back to you, his eyes calm but observant. “Yes,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else, “it is.” The smile in his eyes remained, becoming a bit more serious. “And I think our lives just got a lot more interesting.”

The conversation continued, flowing naturally between Alhaitham and Kaveh, though their attention rarely drifted from you.

Kaveh’s eyes shone with unmistakable fascination every time he looked in your direction, still grappling with the fact that he was in the presence of a mermaid. Alhaitham, meanwhile, was studying you with a different intent, as if weighing the potential for you not only adapt further, or learn and communicate, but perhaps even bridge the gap between your worlds entirely.

And yet, both men couldn’t ignore your beauty—a graceful, ethereal presence that captivated them even in this simple, domestic setting.

After a lull in the conversation, Kaveh cleared his throat, shifting his gaze between Alhaitham and you. “You know, I was thinking… does she have a name?” He looked at Alhaitham expectantly, as if the answer was obvious.

Alhaitham blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment. He hadn’t even considered it until now; you’d only just learned to say his name, so the thought of you having one of your own hadn’t crossed his mind.

Seeing his hesitation, Kaveh continued, “We can’t just keep calling her ‘she,’ ‘mermaid’, ‘woman’ or something vague all the time. She deserves a name.”

Alhaitham nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. She should have a name… something that suits her.” He looked at you, his gaze contemplative, as if searching for some hidden part of your essence to capture in a single word.

Kaveh, always the creative, leaned forward eagerly. “Alright, how about… ‘Sapphire’? She has that ethereal, oceanic vibe, right?”

Alhaitham frowned slightly. “Too obvious.”

Undeterred, Kaveh tried again. “Alright, then… ‘Pearl’? She has this… luminous quality.”

Alhaitham tilted his head. “A bit too delicate. It doesn’t match her strength.”

Kaveh leaned back on the sofa, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “Alright, Mr. Critic. What do you suggest?”

A faint spark of memory lit up Alhaitham’s eyes, and he looked at you, seemingly lost in thought.

“There was an ancient text I read some time ago about the mythology of a lost kingdom. In it, there was a name that stood out to me… (Y/N).” The name slipped from his lips with a gentle reverence, as if resurrected from some ancient memory.

You looked up, tilting your head at the sound. Something about the name resonated, as if it called to a part of you that you hadn’t realized was waiting for it. A faint glimmer of recognition seemed to flicker in your gaze, and the smallest, almost imperceptible smile curved your lips. Alhaitham noticed, his eyes widening as he observed your reaction.

Kaveh, noticing your response as well, let out a low whistle. “Well, that settles it. (Y/N). It has a mystique aura, something that feels… timeless.”

Alhaitham nodded, his gaze locked on yours with a hint of satisfaction. “(Y/N),” he repeated softly, as if affirming the choice. You responded by smiling at him, your expression open and serene, as if accepting the name as your own.

In that moment, Alhaitham felt a quiet sense of accomplishment, as if he had bridged another small yet meaningful gap between you and the human world. Kaveh, adjusting himself with a smile, looked at you both in reverence. “Well, it seems we’ve officially welcomed (Y/N) into our lives.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

The days passed quickly, and Alhaitham found himself studying you almost as closely as you seemed to study the world around you.

Teaching you turned out to be a surprisingly smooth process—‘hello’, ‘yes’ and ‘no’ being the words you’ve learned easily and used the most along with his name. You absorbed new words with a quiet curiosity, and even when your attention drifted to things like sunlight gleaming on a glass or the smell of incense from somewhere nearby, you still seemed to remember his words as if you’d stored them in a special place in your mind.

Your palette was another revelation for him. While seafood seemed to be a favorite, you showed great interest in trying every dish he introduced to you, from savory curries to exotic native fruits from Sumeru. Alhaitham watched as your eyes widened in surprise at the first taste of a ripe Zaytun Peach, the juice trickling down your chin as you savored each bite. He found himself smiling at how you looked at the fruit as if it were a gift, a piece of magic in the form of sweetness.

One afternoon, Alhaitham arrived home to the sound of aggressive hisses and faint, curious purrs. Concerned, he quickly entered the house to find you pressed against the wall, wide-eyed as a gray tabby cat—likely a neighbor’s runaway—rubbed itself against your legs. At first, you recoiled, showing claws and sharp canines in an instinctive defense. But as soon as the creature began to purr, you softened. Alhaitham watched, amused, as you knelt down, carefully petting the animal with an almost reverent gentleness, murmuring the word “yes” repeatedly as if you were in mutual agreement with the feline’s own rumbling approving.

Then, there was Kaveh.

The architect’s affection grew towards you—although every time he was determined to make you remember his name, he was met with your unique mischievous smile and the same answer each time: “Haitham.”

You said it with a bit of cadence, as if relishing how it made him frown in exaggerated frustration. Alhaitham, leaning back in his chair one evening, smirked at the interaction, watching Kaveh’s latest attempt dissolve into another sigh of defeat.

“All right, I see what it’s going on” Kaveh grumbled one day, crossing his arms as you observed him with a playful glint in your eyes. “You’ll acknowledge me properly, eventually.”

Once, however, you found Kaveh hunched over his workspace, focused on a miniature architectural model. You approached quietly, observing the delicate structures he had assembled with fascination. Noticing your presence, he looked up and saw the appreciative smile on your face, understanding it as a compliment. “At least someone here likes my work,” he murmured with a chuckle. “If only all my clients were this easy to please…” He paused, ironically melancholic, earning an empathetic hum from you.

Both men had fallen into a rhythm around you, somehow more accommodating than they had expected. They adjusted to your needs perfectly, sharing the responsibility of ensuring your comfort, and found themselves both challenged and charmed by your presence.

For you, on the other hand, their world had become a comfortable place, one where you settled into a rhythm of small delights and quiet discoveries.

One day, as Alhaitham prepared tea for the three of you, he found himself reflecting aloud, speaking as if to himself. “I never imagined a mythical creature would be so adaptable,” he glanced at you sitting on the floor of the living room, distractedly munching half an apple and reading the newspaper, marveling at the images and texts with the adorable little sounds of awe you let out. Alhaitham couldn’t hold back the affectionate smile.

Kaveh, sitting cross-legged as he studied his latest designs, looked up and nodded, laughing. “She’s adapted better than I did when I moved here,” he commented. “It’s nice to finally have a roommate who doesn’t critique my design choices every five minutes.”

Alhaitham shot him a look, but he wasn’t offended. “Maybe she knows that beauty is best observed without unnecessary comments,” he replied coolly, his eyes lingering on you as you immersed yourself in your things.

In your own way, you had made your home with them. And, day by day, both Alhaitham and Kaveh were discovering that perhaps they had made their home with you too.

Alhaitham had also been keeping his promise, carefully ensuring your safety and privacy within the walls of his home.

However, as the days passed, he began to notice that your curiosity was growing restless. Though your injuries were healing well, you seemed all too aware of the world outside, especially whenever you sat by the living room window.

Hours would slip by as you watched the passing crowds, children playing, merchants bartering. He and Kaveh had tried to explain the dangers of going out, cautioning you that it wasn't the best idea until you were fully recovered, but your eagerness to explore was unmistakable.

So, after weighing the pros and cons and discussing the arrangement with Kaveh, Alhaitham made a decision: a small outing, just enough to satisfy your curiosity without risking too much exposure. You needed clothes anyway, something more suitable than his shirts or Kaveh’s oversized tunics. And thus, one sunny afternoon, after a few of your lessons and some necessary safety ensures, Alhaitham guided you through the bustling streets of Sumeru City and towards the Grand Bazaar.

The moment your bare feet touched the warm, sun-dappled street stones, your eyes lit up with childlike wonder. Every detail enchanted you—the intricate architecture, the intoxicating scent of spices in the air, the hum of life around you. Alhaitham noticed the way your gaze darted to every vibrant stall and passing stranger, taking in the chaos with delight.

However, he also noticed something else: the way nearly every man you passed seemed to pause, transfixed, their gazes lingering on you.

It wasn’t just that they were admiring your beauty—they were captivated, their expressions turning almost dreamlike, as if spellbound. Alhaitham’s brows furrowed as he watched one guy receive a swift smack from his wife when she caught him staring a bit too long. He took a step closer to you, shielding you slightly from the attention, and you, caught up in everything around you, hardly noticed.

You gasped softly as you entered the Grand Bazaar, eyes wide with excitement. The stalls were filled with handmade crafts, woven fabrics, jars of colorful spices, and foods you’d never seen before. Alhaitham, trailing just behind you, couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth as he watched you light up at each new discovery, as if the world itself had become a treasure chest, and you were here to explore its wonders.

Before long, something shiny caught your attention—a stall laden with intricate jewelry. Without thinking, you wandered away from his side, drawn to the display like a moth to flame. Alhaitham followed, watching as you reached out to touch a delicate hairpin encrusted with tiny, shimmering green stones.

The vendor, an older woman with a warm smile, caught your fascination and chuckled softly. “A beautiful accessory for a beautiful lady,” she said, her gaze shifting to Alhaitham with a knowing smile.

“Do you like that one?” Alhaitham asked gently. His tone was softened by an affection he didn’t quite manage to conceal.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice almost reverent as you ran your fingers over the hairpin, tracing each glimmering stone as though it held secrets of the ocean within.

He didn’t hesitate, reaching for his pouch and handing the vendor the necessary payment. The woman winked, her smile widening. “Lucky man, I’d say,” she murmured in a voice barely above a whisper, but Alhaitham caught it. He didn’t answer.

With a delighted smile, you thanked the vendor in your own way—a beaming, enchanted expression that lit up the old woman’s face as much as it did Alhaitham’s. You carefully cradled the accessory as if it were the most precious thing you’d ever owned, gazing at it as you walked away. But soon enough, your attention shifted to the scent of roasting fish at a nearby food stall. The vendor there, turning a skewer of freshly spiced fish over an open flame, waved you over with a friendly grin.

As you darted toward the stall, Alhaitham noticed something else in the jewelry display—a pendant with a smooth, iridescent stone that bore a striking resemblance to your tail. Silently, he purchased it, tucking the necklace into his pocket. The vendor gave him a sly look, but he ignored it, focusing instead on you, already entranced by the food stand.

“Oh, to be young again,” the vendor mused as she watched he leaving.

When he caught up with you at the food stall, you were leaning over the counter, staring in awe at the array of delicacies. The stall owner chuckled as you tilted your head curiously, taking in the fish skewers and assorted seafood. “She’s like a little fox in a new den,” he said to Alhaitham, amused by your wide-eyed fascination.

Alhaitham gave a small, knowing smile as he nodded. “You have no idea.”

The scribe exchanged a few coins for one of the skewers, then handed it to you with a small smile. Your fingers barely wrapped around it before you eagerly took a bite—too eager, it turned out, as you winced, the hot fish burning your tongue. Alhaitham sighed softly, his gaze both amused and indulgent.

“Careful,” he murmured, taking the skewer back for a moment and blowing gently on it, cooling it with a practiced patience. Watching him, you imitated his action, blowing on the skewer with the same careful attentiveness, which made his lips tug upward slightly. As he handed it back, you took another bite, this time savoring the flavors more slowly.

As the two of you continued to weave through the market, you marveled at every passing sight—the colors, the sounds of bartering, and the occasional street performer. You paused to watch a dancer swaying gracefully, her movements captivating as her bright clothing fluttered with each spin. Passersby occasionally nodded and greeted Alhaitham, who gave polite nods in return—their eyes going wide open when they saw you standing by his side. His attention, though, often shifted to you, keeping you close as you wandered, enchanted by your enthusiastic wonder.

Eventually, you stopped before a more discreet storefront draped with curtains of deep blue and gold. The sign above bore intricate lettering, and inside, racks and shelves brimmed with garments of all kinds.

Alhaitham led you in, and you finished the skewer just as he did a quick sweep of the store. Taking the skewer stick, he tossed it into a nearby waste bin and approached the owner, an older gentleman with warm, thoughtful eyes.

The store was a treasure trove of fabrics in every shade, from vibrant hues to rich jewel tones, each piece imbued with a hint of Sumeru’s distinct, earthy style. Alhaitham and the owner spoke in low tones, exchanging opinions on a few pieces he was considering for you. But your eyes soon caught on a different rack—dresses and skirts crafted with delicate fabrics and intricate patterns.

Just then, a younger woman stepped out from behind one of the store’s curtain partitions. She looked you over with a friendly smile, her gaze lingering in admiration. “You have an eye for the finest pieces,” she said, her voice warm. “These are all my father’s designs. Here, let’s find one for you to try.”

She sorted through the rack with a discerning eye before settling on a dress. It was a pearly white, form-fitting but flowing at the hem, with soft layers and gentle ruffles. She led you to the dressing room, helping you into it as you fumbled with the ties and delicate fabric.

When you emerged from behind the dressing room curtain, the woman sighed audibly, her expression caught between pride and awe. Her reaction caught Alhaitham’s attention, and as he turned, his eyes settled on you—and stayed.

The dress fit you in a way that was both modest and striking. The neckline formed a gentle "V" between your collarbones, dipping gracefully but tastefully. The silhouette hugged your curves, enhancing your natural beauty, while the flowing fabric below the waist gave the dress an ethereal elegance, rising just above your heels.

Alhaitham was quiet, his gaze intent, his usual unreadable expression amazed, revealing a glimmer of something deeper—an admiration that ran silently but profoundly through him. He couldn’t look away, as though you’d become the center of his world in that moment.

For a brief moment, you met his eyes, and a silent understanding passed between you. You felt his unspoken thoughts, his breath subtly drawn in awe, and his gaze, filled with softness, lingering as though he was seeing you in a new light.

The shop owner’s voice cut through the moment. “I’d say we’ve found the perfect model for this design,” he said with a chuckle, nodding approvingly at you. “It looks as though it was made for her.”

Alhaitham’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he nodded. “Yeah. Indeed,” he agreed, his tone subdued but genuine. The shop owner offered a discount for future purchases, which Alhaitham accepted gratefully.

After purchasing a few more clothes, Alhaitham approached you and, with a hint of a smile, told you, “You look beautiful.” Though the words were simple, the sincerity in his gaze made them feel more profound. You understood his compliment, your expression softening as you smiled back at him with a shyness that made you glance away, if only for a second.

The shop owner mentioned shoes, but Alhaitham shook his head gently. He knew you’d be more comfortable as you were, free of any restricting footwear.

With your new clothes in hand, you left the place, your eyes still brimming with curiosity. Alhaitham stayed close to you as you continued exploring the bazaar, his mood lightened by the unexpected happiness you seemed to bring him. There was a new excitement in your steps, and he watched with subtle amusement, unable to deny the warmth growing within him as he saw the joy in your expression.

Returning home, you felt content, each step still buzzing with excitement from your discoveries, and the dress Alhaitham bought you flowing like water around you.

Entering the house, the warm scent of food drifted from the kitchen. Kaveh was already there, busy at the stove, humming softly to himself as he prepared lunch. When he turned around and caught sight of you, his eyes widened, a slow, dazzled-like smile spreading across his face.

“Well, look at you,” he said warmly, clearly charmed by the sight. “You look wonderful! For the first time, Alhaitham did a good job by buying you this dress,” his tone had a hint of teasing, and you saw Alhaitham’s brow twitch slightly, but he stayed silent, watching the two of you.

Kaveh’s admiration had a certain ease to it, a natural warmth that made you feel instantly welcome. He turned back to the stove, but not without another approving nod at your attire. Alhaitham’s silence prompted him to ask, “So… how was the city?” He threw a teasing glance Alhaitham’s way then at you. “Did our scribe here give you the grand tour all by himself?”

Alhaitham sighed, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “She wasn’t exactly difficult to entertain,” he replied dryly. “Everything was new, so it didn’t take much.”

Kaveh chuckled.

“Of course it didn’t,” he set the food down, his gaze filled with an amused understanding. Alhaitham merely looked away, feigning indifference, though you sensed a certain pride beneath his casual tone.

During lunch, the two of them recounted little moments from the day—Kaveh enjoying the story of you burning your tongue on the fish skewer, and Alhaitham quietly reliving the way your eyes had sparkled at the Grand Bazaar’s colorful sights. But despite their words, their gazes often turned back to you, captivated by your delight in all the new things you’d encountered.

At one point, Kaveh leaned back, shooting Alhaitham a knowing look.

“So, a personal shopping trip, huh? Just the two of you,” he teased, clearly amused by the idea of Alhaitham guiding someone around. “How sweet.”

Alhaitham narrowed his gaze, giving Kaveh a warning look that said more than words could. But there was a subtle softness in his eyes as they drifted back to you, a sense of quiet caring that you caught, even if he tried to hide it.

After lunch, you noticed Alhaitham start to gathering the dishes, starting to cleaning them as Kaveh made his way to the living room. Walking over him, you lingered, staring at him until Kaveh looked back, caught off guard by your gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed. When you pulled out the hairpin Alhaitham had bought you earlier, he seemed to understand, a faint blush of realization coloring his cheeks.

“Oh, you want me to do your hair?” He chuckled, gesturing for you to sit. “Alright, alright, I’ll help.”

You settled in the chair, feeling his gentle hands working through your hair. He gathered it halfway, securing the rest with the pin and letting loose strands fall around your face. When he was done, he guided you to a mirror, smiling proudly as you took in the sight. The style was simple but lovely, suiting you perfectly.

“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, watching your expression over your shoulders as you took in the effect. For a moment, the two of you were lost in the quietness of that shared moment.

From behind you, a soft sound drew your attention. Alhaitham was standing in the doorway, watching, a fond look on his face. He must have finished cleaning the kitchen but had stayed, observing without saying a word.

You turned back to Kaveh, your gaze warm and filled with gratitude.

“Kaveh,” you said softly, the name unfamiliar on your tongue but carrying genuine meaning.

His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face before he grinned, laughing as he leaned back, crossing his arms.

“Finally saying my name, huh?” He teased, though his voice was warm, “I guess even a mermaid knows when to appreciate the finer things.” Despite his playful words, there was an unmistakable happiness in his gaze, as if your small act of gratitude had touched him.

With the meal finished and the midday light softening, the three of you spread out around the house. You curiously inspected the clothes Alhaitham had bought, marveling at the soft fabrics, while the two men chatted in the adjacent room. Kaveh’s voice floated over, calling to his housemate.

“Hey, listen. Cyno passed by earlier inviting us out to the tavern tonight. Tighnari is also coming. I didn’t give him an immediate answer given our… adorable guest,” his gaze flicked meaningfully to you, a question lingering unspoken between the two men.

They both turned, glancing at you thoughtfully. For a moment, you saw them exchange a silent conversation, considering whether the outing might be risky. But then Alhaitham gave a slight nod, resolute.

“We’ll take her with us,” he said confidently. “With the right precautions, it should be fine.” He glanced at you, his eyes filled with the assurance that they’d watch over you. “Besides,” he added with a hint of a smile, “I feel she’d be upset if we don’t take her to explore a little bit more now that she has seen the outside world.”

Kaveh chuckled, nodding. “Then it’s settled. Tonight, we’ll go to the tavern—all three of us.”

As the sky slowly darkened, anticipation hung in the air, the promise of the evening drawing closer.

The afternoon had drifted by with Alhaitham trying to teach you new words and phrases, but your attention kept slipping back to the new clothes he’d bought. You ran your fingers over the fabrics, turning them this way and that to catch the light, dazzled with the colors and the softness. Alhaitham eventually gave up, sighing in quiet amusement as he noted just how material and delightfully vain you could be—a discovery he should’ve expected.

Later, you wandered into his suite room to bathe, instinctively drawn to the water. The moment you slipped into the warm tub, your legs transformed back into your shimmering tail, scales glinting under the water’s surface.

It had left Kaveh speechless the first time he’d seen it—his penny dropping at your truly identity. You were truly a mermaid. Nonetheless, he wasn't less captivated by the change and your graceful form. Alhaitham, however, while more composed, could hardly hide his fascination, watching with a quiet intensity every time he witnessed the transition.

After bathing, you found yourself in a familiar routine: sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting as Alhaitham approached with your clothes. This time, though, he brought one of the recent purchase pieces; a beautiful dress in his hand—its fabric being of a rich, jade green; a vibrant hue that reminds of his own eyes-color but that seemed to intensify the shine and warmth of yours only.

As he helped you ease into it, his fingers lingered as he adjusted the zipper, his gaze studying you, perhaps more than he realized. And though you found yourself shivering at the intensity of his eyes, there you were too—looking up at him, meeting his gaze firmly and sensing an admiration that he only allowed you to see.

“It suits you,” he murmured, his voice low, a hint of awe slipping through his usually neutral tone. In that dress, you seemed otherworldly, like a goddess who had emerged from the depths of the sea, carrying its beauty onto dry land with impossible grace.

He knelt down then to inspect your injury, noting the lingering redness. Alhaitham carefully applied an ointment, his touch gentle but focused, and you watched his expressions shift with a subtle concern. Then, with a slight nod of satisfaction, he helped you to your feet.

After that, you made your way to Kaveh, showing him the hairpin again, calling his name with a soft voice.

His smile grew, a touch of pride in his gaze as he admired the way his name sounded from your lips, and he took great care in doing your hair once more, letting strands fall loose to frame your face as he did before.

Finally ready, you three left for Lambad’s Tavern.

The streets were alive with the buzz of evening activity, laughter and music drifting through the air as Alhaitham and Kaveh walked beside you. The city was lit by soft lantern light, and you felt a thrill at being part of it all, the world so different from anything you’d known.

At the tavern, the warm atmosphere enveloped you, the scent of spices and roasted meats filling the air.

Alhaitham spotted Cyno and Tighnari across the room almost immediately as the two of them also turned as you approached. Their greeting smiles fainted when their gazes fell on you, a moment of pure awe passing over their faces afterwards. Cyno blinked, visibly stunned, while Tighnari’s foxy-ears twitched, his sharp eyes widening in surprise.

The General Mahamatra, usually so composed, couldn’t seem to look away, his thoughts racing. He was accustomed to beauty in the world around him, yet something about your presence felt almost magical, like an ethereal vision he couldn’t quite understand.

As for Tighnari, his keen senses took in every detail—the way the green dress brought out the otherworldly depth in your eyes, or the elegance of your form. You were unlike anyone he’d ever encountered, and he was captivated, even if he tried to hide it.

Before any questions could arise, Kaveh, ever the quick-thinker, stepped in with an explanation. “She’s an exchange student. From Fontaine,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “She’s staying with us while she studies…uh, the culture of Sumeru.”

Alhaitham sighed at the obviousness of Kaveh’s excuse, but he didn’t counter it. Cyno and Tighnari shared a skeptical glance, clearly doubting the story, yet they chose not to press further. Instead, Alhaitham formally introduced you, mentioning your name, which you responded to with a slight, graceful nod and a cute ‘hello’ following.

But feeling the need to greet them in the way of your kind, you leaned closer, gently rubbing your nose against theirs.

Kaveh gasped out loud.

Cyno’s eyes widened, a slight flush crept up his cheeks as he froze, uncharacteristically at a loss. Tighnari, caught off guard, felt his ears tensing, the action both charming and bewildering him. Your giggles bubbled up as you noticed their flustered expressions, a soft, musical sound that filled the space between you all.

Kaveh let out a nervous chuckle. “Ah…yeah, that’s—uh, her way of saying hello. Strange, right? These Fontaine’ people…”

Alhaitham, on the other hand, observed it all with a hint of entertainment, his gaze lingering on you fondly. Watching your interactions, he noted how naturally you’d adapted to his world, your curiosity and unique charm drawing everyone in, effortlessly weaving you into their circle. There was warmth in his eyes, a feeling that spoke of his growing fondness, and you caught his gaze, offering him a small, contented smile.

As the group settled in, you sat across from Cyno and Tighnari, studying them both with unabashed curiosity.

Still recovering from your unexpected greeting, the two men seemed unsure of where to look, awkwardly averting their eyes when you met their gaze. Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, a hint of amusement in his expression as he explained, “She’s not much for words, as you can see. Rather, she’s more the observant type.”

Cyno and Tighnari nodded, seeming to understand, though their curiosity was hardly quelled.

The tavern around you started to fill with more patrons, the hum of voices rising, mingling with the occasional laugh, the sounds coming from different instruments and the clinking of glasses. It created a cozy warmth in the dimly lit space, and you felt it settle over you as if you were part of something larger, an integral piece in the lively tapestry of Sumeru’s life.

Kaveh wasted no time flagging down the bartender. “Bring your best wine,” he said with a grand, somewhat theatrical gesture, earning a sigh from Alhaitham.

Meanwhile, Tighnari leaned in toward you, his ears twitching with interest as he tried to engage you in conversation.

“So, do you like Sumeru so far?” he asked, a gentle curiosity in his tone.

You nodded with an enthusiastic “Yes”—the single word clear and confident, though it was accompanied by a slight tilt of your head.

Encouraged, he asked, “Do you enjoy learning about plants and animals?” Tighnari’s eyes sparkled, and you could tell he was ready to launch into an explanation if given the chance.

You paused, then shook your head, “No,” you answered, earning a quiet chuckled from Alhaitham.

“Ah, I see,” Tighnari replied, trying to hide his mild disappointment. “What about... Alhaitham and Kaveh?” His eyes glanced toward Alhaitham, who pretend to ignore his friend’s question.

You didn’t thought twice when you answered “Yes” with an affectionate smile, which made Tighnari smirk.

While you answered, you noticed Cyno observing you intently, his gaze unwavering and sharp. It wasn’t suspicious—it was more as if he were studying a puzzle, his curiosity piqued by your every move. His face softened whenever he noticed the subtle gestures that replaced your lack of words, as though trying to understand this new, unfamiliar way of communicating.

When the food and wine finally arrived, you noticed each man taking their mugs and raising them in a silent toast, exchanging knowing glances.

Intrigued, you pointed at Alhaitham’s drink, brows raised with interest. He looked at you hesitantly. “I’m not sure you’ll like it,” he warned, his tone gentle but unsure. Still, he handed you a mug.

The moment you tasted the wine, your expression twisted as the bitter taste hit your tongue. The others burst out laughing as you grimaced, clearly displeased.

Kaveh, grinning widely, leaned over with an exaggerated shrug. “Not everyone appreciates a fine vintage on the first try,” he teased, eyes sparkling with the warmth of the wine already.

But then, determined, you lifted the mug to your lips and downed the rest in a single go. As you set the mug down, you pointed to it, your eyes sparkling with challenge. The table fell silent for a beat, and then Kaveh broke into a delighted laugh. “Oh, now that’s spirit!” he cheered, filling your mug again with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Alhaitham, a touch surprised but clearly amused, leaned closer and murmured, “Take easy, ok?” His tone was warm, carrying that familiar attentiveness, the kind of care he often tried to mask with practicality. You met his gaze and gave a small nod, though your mischievous smile was enough to tell him you weren’t exactly planning on slowing down.

As the evening went on, the wine kept flowing, and so did the laughter. Kaveh quickly grew tipsy, his cheeks flushed as he leaned into his chair with a self-satisfied grin, occasionally throwing his arm around you, Cyno or Tighnari as he launched into some anecdote about his “architectural genius,” much to Alhaitham’s thinly veiled eye-rolls.

“Oh, and then,” Kaveh slurred, nudging Cyno with a huff, “there was that time Alhaitham here tried to negotiate a ‘reasonable’ discount on my work. Can you believe that?” He snorted, casting a playful, slightly glazed look in Alhaitham’s direction. “I swear, he’d argue the wind into changing direction if it suited him.”

Alhaitham only raised a brow, looking at him with an expression that silently asked for patience. “Kaveh, if I hadn’t ‘negotiated,’ you’d still be working to pay off last month’s tab.”

Tighnari chuckled, watching the exchange. “You two really are quite the pair,” he commented, taking a sip of his drink, his gaze shifting between the two of them with an amused glint.

Cyno, turning his attention to you, said, “Do you always put up with them like this?” His tone was deadpan, yet you sensed a glimmer of humor beneath his serious gaze.

Understanding his question, you nodded, a soft laugh escaping you. They all seemed to lighten up, relaxing in the warmth of your quiet amusement.

As the night deepened, Cyno set his drink down with a look of pure focus. “How about a round of TCG?” he suggested, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Tighnari let out a groan, tilting his head back dramatically.

“Oh no, not this again,” he sighed, but even he knew there was no escape.

Kaveh laughed, rolling his eyes in good-natured defeat.

“Fine, fine. But we’re keeping it short, or we’ll never hear the end of it from you,” he reached for his glass and gave you a playful wink. “Prepare yourself for the most intense game you’ve ever seen,” he said, clearly intending to make a spectacle of Cyno’s enthusiasm.

Curious, you leaned closer, watching as Cyno arranged the cards and dice with meticulous precision. His fingers moved quickly, each card laid down like a sacred ritual. Noticing your interest, he paused to offer a brief explanation of the game’s mechanics.

“It’s all about strategy,” he explained, his tone almost reverent. “You play a character card, use skills, and roll dice to see how much power you have.” His eyes narrowed, smiling as he continued, “And don’t think it’s as simple as it sounds.”

You blinked, absorbing his words, but you barely had time to form a plan before the game was underway.

Somehow, against all odds, you won the first round. The table fell into a mix of laughter and shock, each of them offering half-joking explanations.

“Beginner’s luck,” Tighnari insisted, though there was a glint of amusement in his eye.

Alhaitham chuckled softly. “Maybe (Y/N) is just a natural.”

But as the rounds continued, it became clear that “luck” wasn’t the only thing helping you.

One match after another, you swept the table, your fingers moving with a natural, effortless grace as you outplayed each of them. Cyno’s brow furrowed in concentration, and you could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he tried, unsuccessfully, to decode your moves.

Finally, with a mixture of disbelief and exasperation, Cyno looked at his cards in silence. “How…?” he muttered, half to himself.

Kaveh snorted, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Face it, man, she’s just unbeatable tonight. You, my friend, have been dethroned.”

Tighnari grinned, amused by Cyno’s frustration. “It’s impressive, honestly. Even the Champion of TCG is no match for her.”

You laughed, lifting your glass in a playful toast to your victory, which earned a round of mock cheers from the others.

Alhaitham’s gaze was soft as he watched you—your enthusiasm, the brightness in your eyes as you revel in the thrill of each win. He’d seen you embracing new experiences and adventures of his ordinary day with open arms.

From the quiet enthusiasm when you learned a new word to the happiness back in the bazaar, and now, this lively night at the tavern—he felt an undeniable warmth, a subtle pull that went beyond simple admiration.

Just as another round was about to start, a group of local men, drunk and brimming with energy, pulled Kaveh from his chair and into a circle. “Come on, architect! Show us your moves!” they cheered, clapping their hands and forming a semi-circle for him to lead. With a laugh, Kaveh obliged, seamlessly joining them in the traditional dabke.

You watched in fascination, your attention captivated by the rhythmic stomping and spirited clapping.

Kaveh’s movements were fluid, each step and stomp precise yet brimming with exuberance. His grin was infectious, and you found yourself clapping along, enchanted by the lively beat that seemed to pulse through the entire tavern.

Noticing your joy, Kaveh reached out and took your hand, pulling you into the half-circle. “Come on! You’ll love it!” he encouraged, and you laughed, letting yourself be drawn into the dance.

Standing beside him, you mirrored his movements as best as you could, and although your steps were hesitant at first, his laughter and the others’ encouragement quickly dissolved any nervousness.

You found yourself swept up in the joy of the moment, your laughter ringing out as you stomped and clapped in sync with Kaveh. The tavern patrons cheered, a few even joining in to expand the circle. Each beat of the music seemed to echo in your heart, a vibrant, untamed rhythm that made you feel alive. Your hair swayed with each movement, your dress flowed around you as if it had a life of its own. For a brief moment, you forgot everything else, lost in the pure exhilaration of dance and laughter.

Watching from the sidelines, Alhaitham’s gaze lingered on you.

He didn’t need to say a word; his expression spoke volumes. In his eyes, you were radiant—a vision of grace, strength, and unrestrained joy. He couldn’t help but marvel at how easily you fit into this place, how naturally you became part of it despite its strangeness. His chest tightened, a burning ache settling there, unfamiliar and yet… welcome. He remembered the first time he’d seen you, not too long ago, feeling vulnerable and cautious. Yet here you were, laughter filling the air, eyes alight with joy.

He hadn’t expected this—a mermaid, of all things, to stir something so profoundly human within him. But watching you, he couldn’t deny the feeling. It wasn’t simply admiration or intrigue anymore. It was something real, deeper, something that made his pulse quicken whenever he locked your gazes whenever you shared a fleeting smile or a touch of silent understanding.

A sudden chuckle from Tighnari pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced over to see his friend smirking knowingly. “Not joining them?” He teased, his voice pitched just low enough for Alhaitham to hear.

Alhaitham glanced back at you, his lips curving in a slight smile. “I’m enjoying the view.”

Tighnari hummed, raising a brow. “Seems like you’re enjoying more than just the view.”

Ignoring Tighnari’s comment once again, Alhaitham focused his attention on you once more.

When your eyes met, he felt that sensation again—a quiet acknowledgment of something unspoken but deeply felt. He gave you a subtle nod, his gaze lingering, as if committing this moment to memory.

When the dance ended, you were breathless, your cheeks flushed with happiness as you returned to the table. Kaveh, very tipsy and clearly pleased, clinked his glass against yours. “You were fantastic!” he cheered, his eyes bright with genuine pride.

Laughing, you took a sip of your drink, catching Alhaitham’s eye as you did.

Ever since you started to live with him, sharing his culture, entering in the lonely empty of his heart and connecting with every detail that made of Alhaitham who he is, his intense gaze was something you couldn’t escape from—although neither did you want it when you were so mesmerized by him as he seemed to be with you.

But tonight, something was different—something indescribable, unknown but pleasant, sent a soft thrill through you. This was more than a shared moment—it was a promise, a silent connection that seemed to anchor you both, even amidst the noise surrounding you.

The night had fully settled by the time the three of you left the tavern.

The streets were nearly empty, bathed in the soft silver glow of a full moon overhead. A gentle breeze moved through the quiet city, carrying the faint, earthy scent of Sumeru’s flora. Stars scattered like distant lanterns in the sky, each one casting a pinprick of light over the tranquil world below. You looked up, awestruck by the vastness of the sky here. It was as if the city itself was cradled in the arms of the heavens, each corner brushed with stardust.

Alhaitham glanced at you, noticing the quiet wonder in your eyes as you took in the night’s beauty.

In the soft moonlight, your face was illuminated with an almost ethereal glow, your expression open and unguarded. Something about the way you stood there, gazing upwards as if communing with the stars, pulled invisible strings in his chest. Alhaitham found himself watching you in silence, the affection in his gaze hidden in the shadows, an unspoken tenderness that he wasn’t yet ready to voice.

Beside you, Kaveh swayed unsteadily, mumbling to himself in an incomprehensible mixture of words. You giggled, finding his drunken ramblings endlessly amusing, while Alhaitham sighed, shaking his head in disapproval but unable to suppress a small smile. He’d been prepared to carry Kaveh’s weight on his own, but you easily supported your share, surprising him with your hidden strength as you steadied the unsteady architect. You felt Alhaitham’s curious gaze settle on you, but you kept your eyes on Kaveh, helping guide him as he slurred out half-formed songs and laughter.

When you finally arrived at home, the quiet settled around you like a warm embrace.

Together, you and Alhaitham gently placed Kaveh onto his bed, his face sinking blissfully into the pillows as he drifted into a heavy, blissful sleep. You both lingered for a moment, watching to make sure he was comfortable, before retreating to the living room, leaving Kaveh to his dreams.

Once there, the two of you stood alone, the silence wrapping around you like silk. The dim lamplight cast soft shadows across the room, pooling in the spaces between you. You faced each other, yet no words came—none were needed.

Your eyes met his, and in that moment, something unspoken passed between you, a silent understanding woven with the night’s intimacy. It was a conversation of looks alone, a language more ancient than words. Your heart felt full, as if it were holding a secret too precious to release.

Alhaitham’s gaze held yours, steady and unwavering, as he reached into his pocket and drew out the small chain he’d bought back at the bazaar. The gemstone's shiny and iridescent hues caught the light, reflecting shades that soon reminded you of your tail’s colors—a perfect echo of your hidden self.

He held it out to you, his lips curving into a wise smile that reached his eyes.

Without a word, he gestured for you to turn around. You did so, your heart pounding with anticipation as he draped the chain around your neck, his fingers brushing the nape of your neck as he fastened the clasp. The warmth of his touch lingered even after his hands moved away, and you lifted a hand to the pendant, feeling its weight settle over your heart.

Looking down, you felt a surge of emotions, a mixture of joy and affection as you admired the gift. But it wasn’t just happiness—it was something deeper, something far beyond simple gratitude.

When you lifted your gaze back to him, your expression was serene, eyes glimmering with unspoken emotions.

Slowly, you reached up, placing a hand on his neck and gently pulling his face closer. Without hesitation, you leaned in, touching your forehead against his—a significant and intimate gesture but full of affection.

“Thank you,” you murmured, the words carrying layers of meaning, a depth that went beyond the simple gesture. It was gratitude for more than just the necklace—it was for his kindness, his patience, his caring, for seeing you in a way no one else could. For being a safe harbor in this unfamiliar world.

He was taken aback for a moment, the soft touch of your skin against his both surprising and disarming him. But then, a quiet smile forming as he held your gaze, his hand coming up to gently cradle your cheek.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice a gentle murmur, his thumb tracing a light path along your cheekbone.

Your hands lingered on his neck, feeling the softness of its skin and his hair, his own expression melting into something almost vulnerable.

For a long, endless moment, you stayed there, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, to catch the quiet tenderness in his jade eyes.

Neither of you spoke, letting the silence stretch, filling the room with the weight of implicity emotions. His gaze held yours, steady, and yet within it was a flicker of that deeper, unguarded feeling—a quiet, burgeoning affection that made your heart race.

Time seemed to stand still as you looked into each other’s eyes, a shared warmth weaving between you, a silent promise that neither of you had the words to speak.

And maybe, you didn’t even need it.

[continue...]

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #mermaid #[✦ fantasy beauties!verse ✦]

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