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makoodlesarchive · 4 years ago

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darling it’s better (down where it’s wetter)

i finally finished it omg lol, genuinely thought this would never be done

thank you so much to everyone for being patient with me and sending me all those cute little asks talking about the fic, that actually really helped with writing it!

For the love of all that is holy, please check out this absolutely incredible art of merbakugou by @crowolina!

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 14k

warnings: mentions of drowning, explicit sex, interspecies (?) sex, that merman dick yo

masterlist | tip jar

The humidity outside is so high that the air is sitting thick and stagnant -- it feels like it could be cut with a knife. It’s uncomfortably hot, and the air feels almost damp and sticks wetly in your throat as you breathe. Sweat pools in all the most uncomfortable crevices, until the desire to get into the water is less of a passing fancy, and more of an all-consuming need. You slip carefully down the hill, over the dry grass, until you hop down into the fine sand that makes up the little beach in the sheltered cove at the bottom of the hill.

The cove is protected by natural cliffs on either side, with the only access point being the hill that your uncle’s house sits on. It’s small, but the stretch of sand is soft and golden and clean, absent of any tourists and the debris that they tend to leave behind. It is, by all accounts, perfect, and a far better option than the significantly more crowded beach fifteen minutes away. Thanks to the hill and the natural caves, the air is cooler and easier to breathe in the cove. You set out your towel and water bottle near the base of the hill and strip down to your bathing suit, hefting your inflatable floaty up and preparing yourself to march into the ocean. After all the time spent inside your uncle’s grody house, the fresh air and fine golden sand feels like heaven.

When you finally work up the nerve to dip your toes into the water, you have to fight not to recoil from the cold. The temperature of the water is cool and chill, a direct contrast to the heavy, hot thickness of the air, and it takes a few minutes of psyching yourself up before you’re able to submerge yourself fully. Despite the chill, the sensation of being surrounded by water is a relief after the oppressive afternoon heat. You wade out further, keeping a mindful eye out for the reefs your uncle had mentioned, until the water comes up to your hips, then your chest, then your collarbones. You let the tension seep out of your shoulders as you float, buoyed gently by the waves. It’s the most peaceful you’ve been since your stay with your uncle began after he broke his leg; you don’t mind taking care of him while he heals, but you didn’t quite realise how much you needed a break until now.

The saltwater is like a balm; it takes some manoeuvring to actually get yourself up on the floaty, but once you’re settled and relaxed you think you could happily float on your back like this for hours, lost to the warmth of the sun on your skin and the waves rocking you back and forth. The fresh smell of the saltwater and the soft swaying of the floaty in the ocean waves lull you into a peaceful doze.

Naturally, that’s when things start to go wrong.

As you fall into a light sleep you fail to notice the thick grey clouds rolling in and the tide pulling out. The waves creep higher and crash faster, and your floaty bobs rapidly along as you sleep, unaware of just about all of it.

That changes when the floaty catches on a sharp rock jutting out of the water; awareness comes crashing back to you as the floaty tears right as a wave breaks over you, the acute chill of the water and the weight of the ocean pushing down over your head. The shock of the cold water leaves you momentarily stunned and in the brief moment before you start thrashing against the icy waves, a riptide catches your legs and tears you through the water.

Panic rears up in your chest, sharp and choking. Your chest is already aching from the lack of air since you hadn’t had the chance to get a proper breath before you had gone under, and you’re not able to thrash against the current with as much force as you need to be able to reach the surface again. You kick frantically against the water, muscles burning, but you’re so disoriented that you’re honestly not even sure if you’re swimming in the right direction; the salt burns your eyes when you try to open them, and everything is so dark that you can’t tell which way is up.

Your head crests the surface of the water, and you just manage to suck in a painful breath when another wave crashes down over the top of your head. As you struggle to right yourself and reach the surface again, you find your movements becoming sluggish. You’re panicking and running out of air, but even though you know that you still can’t manage to fight your way to the surface.

For a moment something pale cuts through the water in front of your eyes and you think that you’re about to emerge into the air again but you feel so impossibly tired. Your vision begins to go dark, and your limbs are so heavy that continuing to struggle against the tide is impossible.

You know that you’re sinking, but there’s not a thing you can do to stop it.

Consciousness returns to you slowly and painfully.

The first thing to register is the soreness in your chest and ribs -- every inhale is an effort, and it feels as though your lungs are actually bruised. You inhale sharply, which causes a chain reaction of hacking and sputtering and retching. The coughing, in turn, highlights how just about every part of your body feels as though it’s been battered continuously against a rock. When you finally crack open your eyes, you wonder for a moment if you might have gone blind, because your vision stays exactly as dark as when your eyes were closed. When you push yourself up into a seated position, however, you find that you’re sprawled on the wet, rocky floor of a cave.

You move your head very slowly to take in your surroundings, feeling woozy and nauseous. You wonder if you hit your head, or if the nausea is a side effect of nearly drowning. Panic begins building again in your chest, and you have to make a concentrated effort to push all of your uncle’s warnings about delayed drowning out of your mind so you can focus on taking deep, even breaths.

The rocky floor that you’ve woken up on is a ledge of solid stone that makes up half of the cave; the other half is submerged in a pool of clear seawater, beyond which a large crack in the stone walls leads directly back to the ocean. The entire cavern is dimly illuminated by what seems to be phosphorescent algae growing in the water and along the dampest patches of the walls, glowing a muted, luminous blue. It's pretty, but you can’t concentrate on it because in the dim light provided by both the entrance to the cave and the algae, you can see the bottom of the water is littered with what looks like bones.

You look away quickly, because that is not conducive to staying calm. The bones are probably from some stupid large fish that got stuck in the cave and couldn’t figure out how to escape, and you are absolutely not going to look any closer to confirm that. A flash of colour catches your eye, though, and when you turn to look you find the deflated, torn plastic remains of your floaty hanging from an outcrop of rock.

Amidst the enormous relief at being alive, there’s a growing sense of unease in the back of your mind -- how had you washed up inside the cave in the first place? The entrance to the cavern is nothing but a slash in the rocks, angled in such a way that it would be nearly hidden if not for the thin slant of light shining through. How had you not been dashed to bits by those viciously sharp rocks like your floaty? Even if you had miraculously been washed through the small gap and into the mouth of the cave, by all rights you should have ended up floating in the saltwater pool. How had you ended up on the ledge?

You cast another slow look around the cavern; if you weren’t so sore and scared, you think you’d be able to appreciate your surroundings a lot more. The cave is actually quite beautiful -- the algae in the water gives the pool an almost other-wordly, luminescent blue hue, and the stone ledge is devoid of slimy seaweed or sharp barnacles which makes for a somewhat comfortable place to sit, despite its dampness. The deep booming of thunder from outside the cave is what forces you to realise that you’re not going to be able to get out of here until the storm dies down, but at the very least you could have been stuck somewhere far worse. Other than the bones sitting at the bottom of the pool, the cavern is oddly clean.

It’s only when you realise that your whole body is trembling that you take the time to check yourself out. The cold has caused your circulation to slow, and your hands and feet are painfully stiff and bloodless. While the cave isn’t as chilly as you might expect, it’s still not exactly warm and you have no idea how you’re supposed to stop your shivering. You know that you’ve read survival advice regarding hypothermia before, but now that it’s actually necessary it seems as though all relevant knowledge has leaked out of your brain.

Your eyes rove the cavern absentmindedly as you think, wracked with the occasional violent shiver. “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, exhausted. Your gaze passes smoothly over the outcrop of rocks near the cave’s entrance, the red eyes staring up at you from under the water, the froth churned up by the waves spilling through the entrance and into the cave. Another clap of thunder booms from outside.

It takes a ridiculous amount of time for your brain to catch up to what your eyes had just seen, but when you finally jerk your attention back to the water, whatever you had seen is gone. Your breathing is laboured now and stings in your chest slightly, but you pay it no mind as you shuffle closer to the edge of the pool, staring intently at the now empty spot in the water. Maybe your near-drowning experience had resulted in more oxygen deprivation than you had realised, because you could swear you had just seen a man in the water.

“Hello?” you call. Your teeth are chattering, the tone of your voice both nervous and hopeful in equal measures. The cave echoes your voice back to you in a way that makes you feel distinctly idiotic. “Is s-someone there? Please!”

The surface of the water ripples, but you’re pretty sure that the movement is due to the waves rather than some mysterious man hiding in the pool. Feeling disappointed and a little dumb, you sit back and gaze morosely into the water. Were you really so addled that you were beginning to hallucinate?

Before you can begin to worry too much about your possibly declining mental state, the water ripples again. This time, you snap your head up in time to see something dart behind a large rock sticking up from the water.

“Hey!” you blurt, sitting up and scooting closer to the edge. “Who are you? I c-can see you, asshole!”

It occurs to you that it’s highly likely that you’re sitting here shouting at a scared seal or something else much less menacing, or human-like, for that matter. You only have a short moment to feel extremely stupid before whatever is out there moves again, and when a head pops out from behind the rock you fall totally silent.

It is a man! His shock of blond hair is wet and plastered to his head and most of his body remains hidden behind the rock, but there’s no denying that it’s an actual person and you can’t help the immediate relief that washes over you.

“Hey, d-did you get washed up in here too?” As soon as you ask the question, you realise that something isn’t quite… right. How had you missed him on your first glance around? It wasn’t as though there were all that many places within the cavern to hide, and there shouldn’t be any reason to hide in the first place; you had been unconscious, after all. Why was he still in the water?

And why wasn’t he answering you? His head is tilted slightly and his gaze is boring into you, but he makes no move to speak or to come out from behind the rock. It hits you then that you’re all alone in an isolated cave with a total stranger who’s positively glaring at you, and you’re wearing nothing but your bathing suit.

Cold unease settles deep in your belly, and you push yourself carefully away from the edge. His eyes follow the movement; you can’t be sure from this far away, but his irises look an almost unnatural shade of red. The hair on the back of your neck and all up your arms stands on end, and you can’t shake off the feeling that you’re in danger.

“I was just leaving,” you tell him, forcing a nervous smile to your face. “I’m just trying to figure out how to get out of here.”

The man doesn’t reply; in fact, he barely even reacts. He doesn’t even blink.

The smile slides slowly off your face, and your throat makes a dry clicking noise as you try to swallow. “Okay!” you say too loudly; your voice echoes throughout the cave, which only frays your nerves further. “I’m going!” Even as you say it, you realise that there’s no possible way out of the cavern without having to get in the water and swim past the man to get to the crack in the cave wall. Water spills through the crevice as waves crash into the side of the cliff, and another clap of muffled thunder reminds you that there is a storm raging outside. Even if you manage to get around this weirdo and escape the cave, you don’t know how far you’ve drifted from the cove. With the ocean so unsettled, it would be plain stupid to dive back out there without knowing where you are or how deep the water is outside of the cave.

The sound of water rippling catches your attention, and you look back at the man to see that he’s beginning to emerge from behind the rock. Your spine stiffens, alarmed at the sudden movement after so much uninterrupted stillness. He keeps low to the water, his face half-submerged, and as he slides out from the rock and begins to smoothly cut through the water. A flash of colour catches your eye and draws your gaze towards the side of his head. Right over the space where his ears should be is delicate soft orange and black webbing that almost looks like… fins? They twitch a little in your direction, but otherwise hang limply so that they’re almost hidden by his mass of spiky hair.

The fins are distracting enough that it takes you a truly embarrassing length of time to notice that the man has an even stranger feature that his odd ears. As he gets closer, you finally catch sight of the long, lithe tail.

Your instinct is to draw back in both shock and disbelief, but as soon as you move the man (was this even a man?) lifts his head fully out of the water and bares his teeth at you as he spits out a low, sharp hissing sound. You freeze, overwhelmed; your eyes are darting from his teeth to his fins to the tail, but you’re having some serious trouble actually taking it all in. The oxygen deprivation from nearly drowning must have done more damage than you had first thought if you’re beginning to hallucinate shit like this. The tail is long and serpentine, ending in twin webbed fins and covered in dark scales. Combined with his disturbingly human torso, he must be nearly eight feet long. When he reaches the edge of the rocky platform, one of his hands comes up to grip onto the surface and you’re greeted with the sight of long and dark clawed fingertips. They flash in the low light like a threat, ensuring you keep as still and quiet as possible. From this close, you wonder how you possibly missed the fact that he is most definitely not human.

Your breathing picks up as you struggle not to panic, and the fins on the sides of his head rotate towards you as the air sticks harshly in your throat. It’s undoubtedly a threat display; the way the fins splay out flat makes him look aggressive and frightening, and you want to cringe away but you’re also afraid to move. You just tense up on the spot and try to make yourself smaller, hoping desperately that he’ll lose interest once he realises that you don’t pose any danger to him.

“I’m just trying to get home.” Your voice comes out croaky and shaking with fear. You seriously doubt that he can understand what you’re saying, but the sound of your voice has his head tilting suspiciously at you. Even if he doesn’t understand your words, maybe your low and pleading tone will assure him that you mean no harm. “I don’t know where I am, I’m cold, and I’m sore, and I just want to go home.”

A translucent second pair of eyelids slide sideways in a blink, and you have to fight to suppress your shiver. From this close, he’s so obviously inhuman that it’s downright unnerving. His skin is smooth and blemishless, almost too perfect. His features, while human, are virtually flawless in a way that’s actually quite overwhelming -- he’s beautiful, once you ignore his fish half. And the blood-red, glaring eyes.

Predictably, he remains silent, though the fins on the side of his head drop low. You really hope that’s a good sign, and decide to keep talking. Hopefully, by familiarising him with your voice you lower the chance of him attacking you. “My uncle is probably so worried about me. He broke his leg a month ago in a boating accident, and I’ve been looking after him since. This is the first time I’ve taken any time to myself -- I don’t even know how long I’ve been gone for. He must know something’s wrong, or else I would have come home as soon as the storm hit.”

The creature just blinks that sideways blink, floating still in the water as he stares at you.

You sigh, and ease back slowly into a more comfortable sitting position. Those orange fins rotate towards you at the movement, but otherwise he doesn’t react. You take the lack of hissing as a sign of progress.

“This is your cave, huh?” You keep your tone stupidly conversational, as if you’re having a friendly chat with a neighbour or something. “It’s nice. Pretty cosy, as far as caves go. Clean. Except for, you know. The bones.” Now that you’ve mentioned it, you can’t help your gaze from drifting to said bones. To your relief, you see that most of them seem to be the remains of various ocean creatures, though there are a few suspiciously large bones that are almost certainly human. Fear rises up through your chest and lodges in your throat, which makes it difficult to force your words out. “Wow. Yeah. The, uh. The bones are kind of gross.”

The creature follows your gaze, craning his head over his shoulder to see what you’re looking at. He pushes himself away from the ledge and dives in one quick, fluid movement, startling you so badly that you nearly overbalance despite sitting down. His tail is pure muscle, and it ripples as he cuts through the water. It’s only now as you watch him submerged beneath the surface that you realise this is a real mermaid creature that you have somehow found yourself trapped in a cave with. The realisation sends you reeling, but before you can spiral into a flat out panic attack, the creature bursts out of the water again. He pulls himself up onto the ledge and leans on it with his forearms, before slapping down an object right in front of you.

It is, quite unmistakably, a human thigh bone. You recoil in badly disguised horror, “Oh! What the fuck!”

The creature watches you, unblinking. He seems… expectant?

You look down to the thigh bone, then back to the creature. Is he threatening you? Is this his way of letting you know that he’s killed humans before, and is willing to do so again? You cringe away from the yellowing bone.

“Oh shit. Fuck. Oh my god. Okay. Okay, um… I’m not a threat! I promise! I don’t even want to be here. Please don’t hurt me. Shit, you don’t even know what I’m saying, do you?” Your voice has grown thick with panic, and you try to choke it down. Your hands are trembling, and you run them nervously over your face in an attempt to do something with them. “Look. You, uh. You seem like a very nice… mermaid? Mer… creature. I can tell that you’re, um, very strong. And your claws are very intimidating.” You trail off, because you’ve ended up freaking yourself out and losing your train of thought.

The creature has lifted itself a little further out of the water, and appears to be puffing up slightly. You wonder if it’s another threat display, but he doesn’t seem to be overly aggressive. That is, until a clawed hand reaches out and snatches at your ankle so fast that you can barely follow the movement with your eyes. You yelp with fright a solid moment too late, but the pain that you had been expecting doesn’t come. Instead, those sharp, mottled black claws grip firmly at your ankle without actually piercing the skin; the creature appears to be peering closely at your feet.

“Those are my toes.” You tell him stupidly, as though he has any idea what you’re talking about. “They don’t taste good.” You wiggle your toes, and the creature jerks back and hisses at them. “Whoa! Sorry! They’re harmless, I swear! Please don’t kill me!”

When it becomes clear that your toes don’t present any immediate threat, he pinches your big toe between two fingers and squeezes it experimentally. The fear that had been so paralysing is beginning to steadily fade the longer this little exchange goes on without the creature hurting you. You could almost fool yourself into thinking that maybe he was harmless, but the bone sitting on the ground next to your hips suggests otherwise. Still, aside from his initial display of aggression, he doesn’t appear to be particularly hostile. Just a little… over-curious.

His grip on your legs is strong but gentle enough to not actually be causing you any pain, though that might also be thanks to the fact that your extremities have gone numb from the cold. Your shivering has eased up a bit, but you still feel exposed in your damp bathing suit. You’re a little self-conscious, but you’re pretty sure that the mermaid man is too preoccupied with your feet to even notice the fact that you’re in a state of undress; in fact, you’re not even sure if he has a concept of nudity, considering he’s half fish.

You’re so preoccupied with watching the creature rub at your shins that it takes a while for you to notice how quiet it’s gotten inside the cave. “Sounds like the storm has blown over.” You tell the creature, who just stares at you with his brow furrowed. You’re not entirely sure where to go from here; you have no choice but to start searching for a way out of the cave, but you’re not sure how to go about extracting yourself from the creature’s grasp. You don’t know if he’ll stay as docile with you once you’re actually standing and moving around. “How am I gonna get out of here, huh?”

The grip on your leg disappears as the creature backs up before plunging back into the water with a quick snap of its tail. You can’t help but marvel at the sheer power hidden in that muscular lower half as he powers through water almost faster than your eye can follow. He disappears from view, and it takes you a few seconds before you realise that he’s darted down a passage that you hadn’t been able to see due to the angle.

As soon as you realise he’s gone, your stomach clenches. “Hey!” You call, suddenly nervous. It might be stupid, but at least when he was here you weren’t entirely alone. “Hey, wait! Please don’t leave me here!”

There’s no sound but the gentle tinkling of water against rock. You sit back with a gusty sigh and shut your eyes. While he wasn’t the most chatty of companions, there was something slightly reassuring about the fact that you weren’t entirely alone in this cavern. Maybe him leaving was for the best though; if he was the one responsible for the mass amounts of bone littering the bottom of the pool floor, then it would be safer for you now that he’s gone. It looks like you’re going to have to get back into the water and swim to the entrance, and while you fill with dread at the thought of having to return to the cold water, it’s probably significantly safer to do so now that the creature is nowhere to be seen.

You slip off the edge of the ledge and into the saltwater pool, hissing as the cold water hits your skin. It’s deeper than you had initially thought; your feet aren’t even close to touching the bottom. You clutch at the ledge and breathe, even though the deep breaths feel like they’re slicing into your lungs. Your feet feel oddly heavy, as though they’ve been carved from blocks of ice, and you feel doubt stab at you; are you going to be able to swim like this?

The water ripples, signalling movement behind you, and you realise that the creature has returned. You have a split second to panic -- if he decides to attack, you’ve just put yourself right in his path -- but then you catch sight of what he’s pulling behind him. It looks like a surfboard that’s been broken in half.

“Oh, wow!” You gasp, reaching out for it. It’s faded and corroded by time, disuse, and saltwater, and there are several deep gouge marks on it that look like suspiciously like claw and teeth marks, but it’s buoyant and definitely more than enough for you to paddle out on. “Amazing! Oh, you’re such a good boy! Thank you!”

Talking to him like he’s a dog probably isn’t the best idea, but his fins rotate towards you and even though he bares his teeth, he doesn’t look entirely displeased by your tone. He also doesn’t move to try and eat you, though his exceptionally sharp teeth are still pointed in your direction. You hope very much that it’s just posturing and that you’re not misinterpreting his body language; the last thing you need is to get torn apart right when you’re trying to make a break for the exit. He lets you take the surfboard and watches as you attempt to drag yourself up on it. It’s easier said than done, considering it’s been broken jaggedly in half and you can’t touch the ground. You might even be embarrassed by how much you’re struggling if there was anyone else around to see it; as it is, you feel like even the creature is judging your flailing legs as he bobs in one place effortlessly.

Apparently, he gets sick of watching your ineptitude very quickly. “Woah!” You yelp as a sharp, scaly hand lands on the curve of your ass. “What the fuck!” The hand pushes at you, shoving you up on the surfboard from behind. You don’t even have the presence of mind to be surprised at his strength, because you’re too focused on the hand on your ass. “Woah, woah, okay, buddy, no groping please!”

The creature’s tail lashes in the water as he stares blankly at you. His hand doesn’t move.

You try to squirm away, but there’s nowhere to go and he is technically helping. “Fucking hell.” You groan. It’s not as if he understands that he’s groping you; he’s a fish. “Okay. Okay, fine. I will overlook this so long as you help me get out of here.”

The creature shows no sign that he understands your attempts at bargaining. In fact, as soon as you speak he releases his tight grip on your ass and begins to loop slow, lazy circles around you. You sit up, straddling the broken surfboard as you watch him circle you. Now that you’re next to him, you realise that he really is huge -- his tail is long and practically ripples with powerful muscle, and his human half sports well-defined abdominals and bulging biceps, too. His lazy movements and the way that his gaze never once strays from you, not even to blink, sets your hair standing on end. This creature is a predator, and you’d be naive to let your guard down for even a second.

You swallow, and pray that he can’t smell your fear. When you begin to paddle your way towards the cave entrance, the creature perks up and begins to follow. He keeps up with the circles even as you paddle, and you can’t help but scowl at him. “That’s kind of obnoxious, you know.” you tell him, and receive another toothy grimace. If it weren’t for the way his lips peeled back off his sharp teeth, it might have looked almost like a grin.

Watching him in the water is surreal. He moves through it so fluidly that it’s almost mesmerising, and you have to redirect your attention back to paddling several times after getting distracted. Apparently your progress is too slow for him, because the next time he circles around, he reaches out and curls his claws into the board. Wood splinters under his grip, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he yanksat the board insistently. You sit back as the board is pulled through the water, happy to let him do all the work.

Maneuvering the makeshift raftthrough the narrow entrance takes some effort, but you mostly allow the creature to work you and the board through the gap. And with that, you’re out of the cavern and into the open ocean. The sky is a dull, purple-tinged grey, the sun having already sunk low beyond the horizon; it’s evening time, which means you must have been in the cave for hours. You twist on the damaged surfboard and crane your head around to look back at the cavern; the entrance is barely noticeable, merely a crack in the face of a towering cliff.

Your heart jumps as you realise that you recognise this cliff. Your eyes follow the length of it, and sure enough you can see the cove in the distance and the shape of your uncle’s house sitting on the hill. “Ah!” you exclaim in delight, a relieved smile breaking over your face. Home! You’re so close! When you glance down at the creature, you see that he’s followed your gaze. He looks back to you, and his tail lashes the water. You point towards the cove. “There. That’s where I need to go. My home is over there.” You only feel a little stupid for talking to him like he can understand; he might not comprehend your language, but he’s obviously intelligent and he’s brought you this far. It’s not too far-fetched to hope that he might bring you just a little bit further.

Your optimism pays off -- the creature dutifully begins pulling the board in the direction you had pointed. In the twilight, you can see that the scales on his tail are an iridescent black colour, flashing deep orange as light reflects off him as he twists and turns in the water. It’s pretty, and you watch in silent admiration. When he begins pulling you faster and splashing through the waves with unnecessarily large flourishes of his tail, you realise that he’s showing off.

You laugh, delighted with the display and giddy now that most of the danger seems to be behind you. “Yes, yes, very impressive. Your tail is beautiful.”

Obviously pleased with your admiring tone of voice, the creature preens and flexes as he cuts through the waves. With his speed, what should have been a fifteen minute swim is cut down to barely five, and he releases his grip on the board as you begin to approach the shore. As soon as the water is shallow enough for you to stand, you slip off the board and curl your toes into the sand. You turn to grin at the creature, elated, and see that he’s retreated into the waves so that all you can see of him is his eyes and the top of his head.

“Thank you!” You call, grinning as you stagger out of the sea and back onto dry land. “You’re amazing!”

In a flash of scales, he disappears into the waves. You stand on the beach for several long moments, watching the place he had been and wondering if you had just experienced some kind of extremely advanced auditory and visual hallucination. You stay until you start to shiver again in the cold evening air, then stumble your way back up the hill to your uncle’s house.

Predictably, your uncle is a healthy mixture of angry and terrified. It seems you really worried him, and he had no way to contact anyone since he doesn’t own a cellphone. Despite your exhaustion, it takes the rest of the evening to calm him down and assure him that you’re fine. Eventually, you get to slip away for a warm bath and then to bed.

Lying in bed staring at the ceiling of your uncle’s guest bedroom, you’re sure that it will take you ages to get to sleep. Your brain replays the events of the day over and over again, until the details become murky and your thoughts slow. The last thing you think before you slip off into sleep is how lucky you are to be alive, whether you were hallucinating or not.

You’re an idiot. A total, complete imbecile.

That’s the only explanation for how you’ve managed to find yourself back at the jagged mouth of the cave yet again. It’s been almost a full two weeks since you washed up here during the storm, and in those two weeks you could swear that you had seen a blond head bobbing in the waves in front of your uncle’s house multiple times. It was pretty hard to convince yourself that the whole mermaid-slash-sea creature thing was a product of your imagination after a scary and traumatic event when the hallucination kept appearing right outside where you live.

So, you had borrowed an old surfboard from your uncle (a full, undamaged one this time), and paddled your way back out to the cliff face. You notice almost immediately that the tide is strong here, and it’s difficult to keep yourself from being dashed right against the jagged surface of the cliff. It does confirm your suspicions, though - there’s no way that you could have washed up inside that cave by chance. It takes a significant amount of effort to pull yourself inside the mouth of the rocky structurecave without being crushed into the sharp stone slabs decorating the outside like some sort of deadly decorrocks, but you manage to do so without hurting yourself.

Inside, the cave looks exactly the same as last time, though this time it’s empty. You paddle forward, the movement significantly easier now that you have a full-sized surfboard. Peering around, you see no sign at all that anything living might have occupied the cavern. That’s when the doubt starts to come creeping in. You’d had the odd invasive thought over the past two weeks that maybe you had imagined the whole mermaid creature (because it was, admittedly, insane), but then you had seen that blond head floating in the ocean breeze on several occasions. You could have sworn he was watching the house! Now that you’re here and facing the complete absence of evidence, you start to feel a little silly.

You paddle further into the cave, straddling the board so that your legs can kick out through the water. You admire the phosphorescent algae growing up the walls, amazed at the natural glowing light. When you turn your attention back to the bottom of the pool, though, you go still.

It’s empty. The floor of the pool, previously littered with bones, is totally pristine.

You sit still on the surfboard in the middle of the pool, gazing down into the water. Despite how crazy the whole situation was, you had been sure that you weren’t imagining it. But now, faced with the complete absence of evidence, you’re forced to consider the fact that maybe the whole thing really had been in your head. You have such a vivid memory of the silt-covered bones blanketing the floor of the cave that now seeing them missing has completely thrown you off.

A bark sounds behind you, rough and deep like a seal, and you jerk hard in surprise.

Whirling around, clutching at the board beneath you to keep your balance, you catch sight of the creature floating by the entrance to the cave. He’s watching you intently, having obviously been monitoring you since you first managed to float inside.

The relief that slams into you feels like a physical punch -- the spikey hair, red eyes, and tail are exactly the same as you remember. It’s real. You laugh, and it feels like the sound has been ripped right out of your chest; the situation is almost overwhelmingly surreal, but the endorphin rush of knowing that you’re not delusional has you grinning at the creature, wide and bright.

“Hi!” You say, trying to keep your voice as level as possible despite your elation. You may have been delighted to see him, but you have no idea if he even remembers you from two weeks ago; you can only hope that he doesn’t decide that he’s hungry today. “Wow, look at you! You have no idea how good it is to see your face! And your tail! God, I am so glad to see your tail! It’s real, holy shit.”

One of the creature’s webbed fins twitch on the side of his head, rotating towards you as you ramble. In a single, smooth movement he pushes away from the entrance of the cave until he’s right in front of your surfboard, his face half-submerged in the water. He seems pretty docile today, his movements strong, but relaxed. The aggression he had displayed that had scared you so badly the first time is completely absent, and he begins to loop circles around you in a manner that is almost playful. You don’t bother to hide the awe in your expression as you watch his serpentine lower half undulate through the clear water.

“Wow.” You breathe, your cheeks stretched wide by your goofy grin. “It’s amazing.”

He must feel your gaze on him, because his lazy looping begins to become more elaborate. The extra flourishes he makes with his tail as he circles you splashes water all over your thighs and stomach. You squeak in surprise, but as you relax again you start to laugh.

“Are you showing off?” You ask with a grin, watching his body roll through the saltwater pool, never straying too far from your surfboard. “You’re just a giant puppy, aren’t you?”

His circling gets faster and faster, until watching him nearly makes you dizzy. It’s a little reminiscent of being stalked by a shark, but you don’t sense any aggression or animosity from him at all. The little hairs standing on end on the back of your neck serve as a reminder that he is, undoubtedly, a predator, but you don’t feel as though he poses any particular threat to you right now. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, treating him like a harmless puppy dog, but you have a feeling that his bark is probably worse than his bite. At least, you hope so.

“Help me get to the ledge?” You ask, beginning to paddle over. He catches on to where you’re trying to get to almost instantly, and pushes the surfboard effortlessly over to the rocky platform.

Once you climb out of the water and turn to him, he pushes his upper half up onto the ledge and leans on his folded arms. The intensity of his gaze has lessened, or maybe you’ve just gotten used to it, because it doesn’t feel as though he’s trying to eat you alive with his eyes anymore. His tail swishes through the water, creating gentle waves rippling over the surface as he watches you with a sort of attentive stillness reminiscent of a cat.

“You saved me last time, didn’t you? When I was drowning?” You ask absent-mindedly. Your voice subconsciously takes on the same artificially high-pitched tone you use when you’re talking to animals and babies, but judging by the way his fins rotate downward and flatten to the side of his head he doesn’t like that. “Thank you.”

You’re taking a massive chance even making an attempt to touch him, but you take a deep breath and then hold your breath as you reach out to him. He flinches from your outstretched hand and bares his sharp teeth at you, but there’s no animosity behind it and he makes no move to stop you from placing your hand on the top of his head. His hair is coarse with sea salt, which probably explains its spiky texture, and is still dripping wet. As you ruffle his hair, your fingers curl into the chaotic blond spikes -- though you had originally intended to simply give him a pat on the head, you end up playing with his hair and scratching at his scalp.

You weren’t sure how the creature was going to react to your bold decision to give him head scratches, but he seems to like it -- his eyes go half-lidded and droopy, and he presses his head lightly into your touch. You grin, encouraged by his reaction, and let your hand trail cautiously down to one of his fins. It’s soft to the touch and delicate, with an almost silky smooth slippery texture. It twitches beneath your fingers, and you notice for the first time that the soft orange colour is interspersed with milky streaks of black.

“Pretty.” you murmur to him, stroking a finger down the length of the fin before returning your hand to his messy mop of hair.

A harsh, rumbling growling sound erupts out of the creature’s chest, and you whip your hand back in shock. The creature’s head jerks up to look at you, equally startled by your sudden movement. It takes you a moment to realise that he wasn’t snarling at you, he was purring.

“Oh!” you breathe, surprised. “You like me playing with your hair?”

The creature obviously doesn’t answer; instead, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, his sharp claws cautiously guiding your hand up to plant right back into his hair. You laugh, startled by his sudden boldness, but obediently start scratching at his scalp again. That snarling, chain-saw like purr starts up again, and you can’t help the breathless giggle that bubbles out of you at the sound of it.

The minutes tick by as you play with his hair, his grumbling purr echoing throughout the cave. His body has gone mostly lax, with his upper half laid out on the ledge in front of you and his lower half floating in the water. It’s kind of exciting being so close to a creature that could probably kill you with a single swipe of his claws but has instead chosen to let you pet him. Like this, lying relaxed by your legs, you could mistake him for a regular man. So long as you didn’t allow your gaze to drift lower, at least.

Your stomach decides to end the moment by letting out a rumbling growl of its own, which surprises even you since you had eaten before you left your uncle’s house. The creature draws back, squinting suspiciously at your torso.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, embarrassed despite yourself, “I’m not actually hungry, my stomach doesn’t know what it’s talking about.”

The creature blinks one of its creepy sideways blinks at you, and then in one quick movement disappears under the water with a flourish of his tail. You catch a streak of colour darting out of the cave and sigh as the water settles, disappointed that the moment has been brought to such an abrupt end by something as stupid as your tummy rumbling when you weren’t even particularly hungry. You settle back and wonder if you should take that as a sign that it’s time to get out of there.

The cave is beautifully peaceful, silent but for the sound of the waves lapping against rock. You could probably stay there for hours, but it doesn’t feel right to be there without the creature; it feels as though you’re infringing on his private territory, somehow, and it makes you feel a little uneasy. In the end, you don’t get much time to overthink -- the creature re-enters the cave nearly soundlessly, and you barely notice his presence until he emerges out of the water and hauls himself up on the rocky platform next to you.

“Oh!” You blurt, startled by the sudden movement. “You’re back!”

The creature doesn’t react to your words at all, instead dropping something in front of your folded legs. You blink at it, bewildered, as it wriggles on the stone platform.

“It’s… a fish.” You point out redundantly, at a loss for anything else to say. When you look back up you find that the creature is watching you carefully, a hint of impatience on his face. He nudges the fish towards you, and you cringe back as the fish flip-flops helplessly. “Gah!”

The creature’s brow drops into a frown, clearly unhappy with your reaction. He pushes the fish towards you more aggressively this time, but when the fish leaps into the air it’s only instinct for you to smack it away in a panic. The fish bounces once and then makes a bid for freedom, jumping straight into the water. The creature snarls and leaps after it.

The poor fish doesn’t stand a chance; the creature snatches it back up within seconds, and then it’s dumped in front of you again. “Uh. I don’t really… want this?” You stare at it, and then lift your head to look at the creature. He’s still frowning, and when you make no move to take the fish he reaches out to pick it up himself with a grunt of obvious irritation. You relax a little once he takes the fish, wondering what the hell that had been about.

Smack.

You screech as the fish slaps into your face, recoiling so violently that you overbalance and fall flat on your back. “What the FUCK!”

The creature rears back, obviously surprised by your reaction and all the yelling. He spits out a hissing sound as the fish makes another escape attempt, and dives after it. You’re too busy scrubbing at your face in disgust to keep track of what the hell he’s doing now, but when something wet and slimy smacks into your arms you realise that he’s just pelted you with the fish again!

“Why would you do that!” You yell, distressed. You would never be able to forget what a fish to the face feels like, now. “Fucking- That’s fucking gross!”

A low grumbling starts in the creature’s chest, but his brow is furrowed and his head is tilted so he doesn’t seem angry. If anything, he just seems confused. The fish is still wriggling where it’s stuck in his clenched, clawed fist, but its movements are getting progressively weaker.

“Don’t you dare throw that at me again,” you threaten, glaring his way and injecting as much authority into your voice as you can manage, “Or we will have a serious problem.”

Your tone must have been pretty clear, because the creature doesn’t try to launch the fish at your face again. Instead, he lifts the fish up to his own mouth and takes an enormous bite, ripping the head right off and chewing it between his razor-sharp fangs.

You gag at the sight of guts and viscera falling to the cavern floor, and then turn to retch as wet chewing sounds reach you. “Oh fuck, that is nasty. Why? Ah, Jesus-” The creature proffers the chewed up fish carcass, scowling when you turn your face away to gag again. “Stop shoving that at me! I will get sick on you!”

The creature grunts, confused and annoyed by your behaviour. When it becomes clear that you will not be taking the remains of the fish to eat yourself, he tosses the carcass to the side. It lands with a sad little ‘thwunk’ and then lays forgotten as the creature turns back to look at you. Your stomach rolls as he starts to pick raw meat out of his teeth with a clawed fingertip.

“On that note, I think it’s time for me to leave.” You climb to your feet, stubbornly refusing to look at the dead fish. “That’s enough weirdness for me to deal with for one day.” As soon as you make a move for the surfboard, the creature starts making sharp barking noises at you. You turn to scowl at him, irritated, and see that he’s dragged himself after you along the ledge. “What do you want?”

The creature looks almost constipated for a long moment, before he huffs a sharp breath of air out his nose. “Stay.”

It feels like the world stops turning. You think your heart might have actually stopped in your chest. You were surely hallucinating this time. “Did you just speak?”

The creature’s tail lashes impatiently as he scowls up at you from the ground, obviously displeased at your sudden difference in height. “Will you fucking sit down?”

You drop back down to the floor, jaw hanging open. “What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself. It feels as though your brain is functioning several steps behind its usual pace, and all you can do is stare dumbly. “You can fucking talk?”

“Are you an idiot?” The creature snaps at you, scowling. A dusting of light pink blooms high on his cheekbones, “I’m talking right now, aren’t I?”

“I’ve been talking to you this whole time!” You yell, horrified. You cast your mind back desperately, struggling to recall whether you said anything embarrassing at any stage. You definitely have, you just know it. “What the fuck! Why did you never answer?!”

The creature clicks his tongue, and an infuriating little smirk settles over his perfect features. His voice is smug when he speaks next, “I’m a good listener.”

That does it.

“Oh, fuck you.” You jump to your feet again and march to your surfboard, ignoring the scrabbling sounds against the rock as the creature pulls himself after you.

“Hey! Wait! You said you’d stay, asshole!”

“No, you told me to stay! I never agreed to shit!” You snap, embarrassed and annoyed. You fumble with the board, and the creature takes that moment to shove it away from you. You gasp in outrage as you watch it float out into the middle of the pool, then round on him. “What the hell!”

The creature glares at you, his cheeks stained red. It looks as though he’s seriously struggling with something, until he finally says, “Stay… please.” It sounds as though the word has been forced out of him, like it actually grates him to say it.

You should probably leave. But then again, how many chances in a lifetime are you going to get to meet a fantasy creature (and one that can actually speak to you!). Your curiosity gets the better of you (and the embarrassed but hopeful look on the creature’s face doesn’t help), so you reluctantly sit back down once more. You don’t miss the way he seems to relax a little now that you’re not going anywhere. “Only for a while.” you warn him half-heartedly.

The creature scoffs as if he doesn’t care, as if he didn’t literally just plead with you to stay. “Whatever. Why didn’t you like the fish?”

“The-?” You glance over your shoulder. The fish carcass lies abandoned several paces away, stinking and leaking everywhere. “Uh…”

“I thought you were hungry.” he presses, sounding distinctly as though he’s accusing you of lying.

“You were trying to feed me?” You ask, raising your eyebrows so high they nearly vanish into your hairline. That’s what smacking you in the face with the fish was all about?

The creature’s tail twitches again, sending waves rolling across the surface of the pool. He looks embarrassed, though he’s making a pretty valiant effort at pretending to be unaffected. “Yeah, so what? It’s not my fault that your fingers are all blunt and useless. Can you even kill anything with those?”

You squint down at your fingers, then frown at him. “I don’t know, I’ve never tried! Humans don’t eat raw meat, anyway!”

“Yes, they do!” The creature shoots back, “I’ve heard of sushi!”

That effectively renders you silent as you blink at him. Where had he heard of sushi? “Okay, fine!” You concede grumpily, “Some people eat sushi! That is not the same as catching a fish and eating it live!”

The creature makes a face and lies out on his back, stretching leisurely. “Damn, you’re high maintenance.” He complains, though he doesn’t look all that annoyed. If anything, he looks stupidly pleased with himself. “Whatever. Tell me what you like, then.”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, chewing your lip, “Normal food, I guess. Like, from the store.”

The creature frowns at that, obviously displeased but thinking hard. After a moment he grunts, shrugging. “We’ll work something out.” He says vaguely, then moves on before you can respond. “You’re staying with Aizawa now, right?”

You blink in surprise. “You know my Uncle Shouta?”

“Your uncle?” He asks, avoiding your question.

“Well,” you amend with a shrug, “We’re not blood-related. He’s always been a close family friend. How do you know him?”

The creature shrugs, muscled chest rippling in a way that’s frustratingly distracting. “He’s always hanging around in his stupid little boat.” There’s an underlying current to his voice that sounds like begrudging respect. “He’s helped us out a few times, I guess. He’s alright.”

“‘Us’?” You repeat, eyes wide. “Are there more of… you?” You gesture at his tail, unsure of what to actually refer to him as.

The creature must decide that he’s said too much, because he changes the subject. “What am I supposed to call you, anyway? I can’t keep thinking of you as ��dumbass’.”

You scoff, slightly offended at that, but tell him your name anyway. “What do I call you?”

“My name is Katsuki,” he grins at you, displaying his rows of very white and very sharp teeth. “But you can call me whatever you like.”

The low, easy rumble of his voice sounds almost flirtatious, and for a long moment all you can do is blink at him. There’s no way you’re reading the situation correctly, you’re sure of it. “Um. Katsuki is fine.”

Katsuki snorts, but doesn’t push the matter. Instead, he rolls onto his side so that he can watch you more closely. His gaze is searingly intense, so much so that you genuinely have difficulty meeting his stare. His attention is overwhelming, and so you find yourself looking around the cavern in an effort to distract yourself. Your surroundings are more or less unchanged from the last time you were here, with one exception -- though the cave was clean before, now it seems to be immaculate. The absence of the bones littering the floor of the pool makes the water seem deeper and clearer, light reflecting off the surface and dancing in ripples along the rocky ceiling. Any seaweed or lichen that had been growing around the rocks or up the walls is gone now, leaving the stone surfaces looking as though they’d been scrubbed clean.

For lack of anything better to say to fill the silence, you say, “Your, uh, cave looks great. Very… tidy.”

Katsuki appears to puff up at that, proud that you noticed. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” You nod absently. “It’s… um, cozy.”

“Cozy?” Katsuki repeats. He’s edging closer, almost imperceptibly, but the dragging sound his scaly lower half makes on the ground gives him away. His gaze has sharpened, and you feel distinctly hunted.

“Uh,” You laugh, nerves pitching your voice several octaves higher than normal. “Yeah, I guess. That’s some very nice, uh, algae. It really… pulls the room together.”

The algae, in all its phosphorescent glory, is nice, but Katsuki doesn’t turn to look where you’re pointing. The tip of his tail drags in the water, where it thumps softly from side to side. “Want to see the rest of the place?”

Something about his tone of voice has you hesitating; it sounds pointed, as though his words are heavy with significance that you don’t understand. Still, you don’t want to be rude, so you smile nervously and say, “There’s more? Sure, I’d like to see.”

Katsuki inhales sharply through his nose as an anticipatory grin spreads slowly across his face. His features, handsome anyway, are intimidatingly good looking as his cheeks dimple with his smile, and you only have a moment to wonder what exactly you’ve just agreed to before he pushes himself back into the water in one smooth movement. “Come on.” He says, reaching a hand back up to you and waiting impatiently for you to take it.

You pause for a moment, before throwing any lingering sense of self-preservation to the wind and taking his outstretched hand. He’s mindful of his claws as he helps you into the water, but it’s impossible to miss the way his palms drag over your arms in a way that can’t be mistaken for casual.

It’s only when you’re floating in the water next to him that you’re able to fully comprehend the sheer size of him. While his torso is mostly human in both shape and proportion, he’s still built like a damn bodybuilder, with solid abs and rolling biceps. Even without the tail he’s pretty big, but with it? You guess it must be about eight feet long, and it curls around you in the water like a thick, dark snake. He smiles at you as he keeps you afloat, and his teeth glint in the low light. It’s border-line terrifying, and for a long moment you wonder if you’ve just made a very serious mistake.

But then his tail undulates and he’s cutting through the water, dragging you with him. You laugh, startled, and cling onto his neck as he swims through the pool and down the mostly concealed passage he had disappeared through the last time.

The passage is completely submerged in water, and narrows before widening into an even larger cavern area. You gasp quietly as you realise that this is definitely his living space.The layout is pretty similar to the previous cavern, with a shelf of rock jutting out of the wall of the cave just above the height of the water, but unlike the previous cavern this rocky shelf is covered in soft dry moss. You wonder if this is where he sleeps.

The luminescent algae is far more plentiful in this part of the cave; it grows all up the walls and along the ceiling, where it glows in the dark like stars. You crane your head all the way back so that you can gaze open-mouthed at it all, awed by the surreal beauty of it. “Wow,” you breathe in delight, “It’s stunning!”

Katsuki grunts out a pleased rumble in response. In the position you’re in, you can feel it vibrate in his chest. When he reaches the platform, he grips you by the hips and boosts you up onto the rock. The sheer strength takes you by surprise, especially considering the way in which his expression hardly changes as he lifts you with ease.

Once you’re comfortably seated on the moss-covered stone, Katsuki heaves himself up to join you. His tail slaps against the water and coils close to your legs, rubbing gently against the skin of your legs. The sensation of wet scales should feel a little gross or uncomfortable against you, but they feel silky soft as they brush your skin. You lay back against the moss, gazing up at the glowing blue algae painted across the ceiling.

“Your home is beautiful.” You murmur, keeping your voice low. It feels as though the moment is fragile, and you don’t want to break the peaceful atmosphere in this little grotto.

Beside you, Katsuki gives a smug little shrug of his shoulders. He’s sitting way too close to you to be entirely casual (his tail is practically draped over you at this stage), but he doesn’t seem to think anything of the closeness so you write it off as a mermaid thing. “Obviously. What, are you fuckin’ surprised?”

You ignore that, sighing happily as you get comfortable. You can feel Katsuki’s gaze settle like a weight over you, but you simply refuse to look over -- lying comfortably on the cushioned cave floor and gazing up at the fantastical luminescence of the walls and ceiling is a kind of peace that you’ve never experienced before. You feel like you could stay like this forever.

However, Katsuki does not like to be ignored. Your attention has only been directed away from him for a few moments before he starts shifting irritably beside you. You can feel the muscles in his tail moving as it rolls, his clawed fingers tapping impatiently against his abdomen. It seems as though he’s waiting for something in particular, but you have absolutely no idea what this could be.

After another few moments of impatient shuffling, you finally turn your head to frown at him. “Is something wrong?”

Katsuki frowns back at you, and you see a brief hint of uncertainty flash in his eyes before it’s snuffed out. “No. I’m being fucking patient.”

“Patient?” You parrot, confused. “What are you waiting for?”

For the first time, you notice the flush crawling up the back of his neck and spreading over his cheeks. Swearing quietly, he looks off to the side and shuffles a little on the spot. Eventually he speaks again, though he still doesn’t meet your eye. “Am I reading this wrong?”

“Uh-?”

He continues before you can properly answer, his jaw clenched tight. “I tried to show you that I’m a good hunter and a strong opponent, but you didn’t like any of the bones. I wasn’t sure if you were interested or whatever, but then you showed me where you lived.” The emphasis he places on his words makes you realise that there is some special sort of significance that has gone right over your head, “Then you came back to my cave again, so I figured we were on the same page. But then you refused the fish-”

“I-” you start, bewildered, but Katsuki just keeps going as he works himself up into a mini rant.

“-Even though I know you’re hungry! And you said you liked the changes I made to the place after I got rid of the bones, and you kept calling my tail amazing and beautiful and shit-” He ignores the way you choke a little at that, though he seems to run out of steam, “I just-- fucking, tell me if I’m reading this wrong. I don’t know shit about humans. I thought you were accepting my advances.”

Advances? You inhale so sharply that you nearly choke all over again. There’s no way he means what you think he means. There is no damn way. “Are you- are you coming onto me?”

Katsuki stares back at you, before his face crumples into a scowl. “Hah? Are you fucking dumb? I brought you to my living space and gave you bones! I tried to feed you fish! Of fucking course I’m coming onto you!” His voice drops then and takes on an uncertain edge to it, “I thought you were accepting my mating advances.”

Your jaw drops, and you honestly can’t find the strength to close your mouth. Mating advances? “I-” you start, then cut yourself off. It feels like the world has tilted just slightly off to the side, throwing you off-kilter. You have absolutely no idea what to say. “Give me a minute.” You blurt, darting to your feet and turning away from him to pace.

You quickly encounter a problem, in that there’s nowhere to pace to; the ledge is only so large, so all you can really do is march from the edge to the wall. Overall, it’s only about ten paces long, and the whole time you’re focusing on not slipping on the moss. It doesn’t exactly give you a lot of space to think, but your mind still goes into working overtime.

You sneak a peek at Katsuki -- he’s lounging exactly where you left him, but his eyes are sharp and alert as they follow your movements. Not for the first time, you take notice of how unnaturally handsome he is; his features are perfectly formed, his skin clear and flawless where it stretches and swells over his finely muscled form. He looks like a handsome prince from a storybook, and you hate that you’re feeling sparks of attraction towards someone who’s half fish.

Katsuki clearly notices you looking at him, because he stretches out to display his body in a way that’s distinctly suggestive. You look away quickly, embarrassed at having been caught staring. How would that even work?

You can’t believe you’re even entertaining the idea.

“I’m not gonna fuck a fish.” You breathe, eyes clamped shut. “I’m better than that.”

“Who the fuck are you callin’ a fish?” Katsuki snaps. His tone is heated, but the way the split fins at the end of his tail slap a steady rhythm against the ground reveals his excitement. He must have caught on to the fact that you’re actually considering it, because the fins on the side of his head have begun to wiggle a little in anticipation. “Will you stop overthinking it and come over here?”

You hold onto your pride and dignity for another few seconds before abandoning them altogether and padding back over to him. You fold yourself down into a sitting position in front of him so that you’re facing each other. Katsuki sits up quickly, his lips beginning to turn up in a grin. You ignore the anticipation flashing over his face, and ask, “So, how does this, um, work?”

Katsuki inhales sharply, obviously excited. His fins flap softly against the side of his head. “Let me show you.”

“Right, okay. Yeah.” You say stupidly, eyes widening as Katsuki leans in. Any further rambling is cut short as he presses his lips into yours.

The kiss is a little clumsy at first -- Katsuki is careful with his sharp teeth, but the feeling of them pressing against your mouth sends a little frisson of excited fear down your spine. It’s only when he’s pressed up against you like this that you realise there’s a stark difference in your body temperatures; Katsuki’s skin is cool and soft, which feels amazing pressed against your rapidly heating body.

He pulls away from the kiss, leaving you blinking stupidly after him, and then pushes at your shoulders to guide you down onto your back. The moss underneath you acts like a cushion, so it’s significantly more comfortable than you had been expecting. This ends up being a good thing as Katsuki lowers himself down on you, his weight pinning you to the floor.

“You’re so warm.” He murmurs, nuzzling into your throat before nipping softly at it and snickering when you jerk at the sting. His hands skim over your sides, his clawed fingers dragging harmlessly over your vulnerable skin.

You hate to admit it, but there’s something about the danger of the whole thing that’s really getting you going. You recall the bones that had previously cluttered the whole cave floor, and know that Katsuki not only could rip someone apart if he felt like it, but had done so before. You squirm beneath him, pressing your thighs together as he kisses at the sensitive junction between your throat and ear.

Apparently unhappy with the position, Katsuki leans back a little so he can pry your legs apart. As soon as you drop your knees open he squirms into the gap and presses himself right along the line of your body, dropping aggressively eager kisses all up your chest and throat. “Take this off.” He rumbles, tugging irritably at the strings to your bikini top.

“Um.” You say, thoughts a little hazy. Every time Katsuki moves the muscles in his tail shift and roll, and his tail is pressed right in between your legs. “Off. Right.”

Katsuki watches as you tug the fabric off, his eyes bright and impatient. No sooner have you tossed your bikini top to the side than he’s on you again, thumbs rolling over your nipples as he pushes his face into your breasts. “What the fuck,” he mutters, squeezing curiously at one breast and licking a stripe over your other one, “You’re so soft.”

Desperate to touch back, you reach up and run your hands through his salt-coarse hair. When you accidentally brush against one of his head fins, his reaction takes you by surprise – his whole body jolts, pressing into you harshly, and he groans a little into your ear. You do it again, grinning as Katsuki’s hands abandon your tits so he can grab you by the hips.

Maybe your own excitement causes you to forget yourself, but you can’t help but grind your hips up into Katsuki where he’s pressed in between your legs. Katsuki laughs a breathless, snarling laugh before grinding back into you, the base of his tail just under where his human half ends pressed flush against your covered pussy. Katsuki, still gripping you by the hips, grinds repeatedly against you – the scales on his tail create an almost ribbed texture, and every time they drag over the front of your bikini bottoms you can’t help but twitch your hips back against them.

It doesn’t escape your notice that you’re virtually dry-humping a merman on the floor of a cave, but you simply push that aside for now; you can feel yourself getting wet, and you know that most of your critical reasoning skill go out the window when you’re horny.

You’re so distracted by the nipping, stinging kisses and the way Katsuki’s tail grinds and wiggles against you that it takes a very long moment to realise that the feeling of his tail pressing against you has… changed, somehow. You pull back, breathing a little heavy, and look down to try and see what’s different, but Katsuki is pressed so closely to you that you can’t see past his chest. You don’t get a chance to look properly, either, because then Katsuki begins to slide down your body until his head is between your legs.

He tugs at your bikini bottoms, but his inexperience with legs becomes clear as he tries and fails to successfully remove them. “Fucking- take these off!”

You snort at his impatience, but obediently wiggle your way out of them. It’s actually a relief to be out of the wet swimwear, but you don’t have much time to appreciate it before Katsuki’s face is in between your legs and pressed right up to your now exposed pussy. He inhales deeply as you squirm, mortified. “Don’t- stop fucking sniffing me there, oh my god!”

“Hah?” he squints up at you, “Why?”

“It’s embarrassing!”

Katsuki frowns, clearly not understanding what the big deal was. “You smell good.”

You’re pretty sure that you don’t, considering virtually nobody’s genitals smell good (especially not after being trapped in a damp swimsuit for hours), but his tone is so matter-of-fact that you can’t bring yourself to argue. He doesn’t wait for a response anyway, burying his face between your thighs again and huffing as he inhales your scent. You cover your face out of sheer embarrassment, but don’t make any effort to pull away.

When his tongue starts to prod at your clit, your whole body jerks in surprise. His tongue is cool, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in your folds, and it feels startlingly good as it squirms against you. Your hips twitch and chase after his touch, but he keeps you firmly in place with his grip on your hipbones.

“Humans are pretty different down here,” Katsuki says conversationally, his words vibrating against your pussy lips. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Oh yeah?” you say absently. Your thighs flex around his head from the effort of not clamping down hard around his skull.

He hums, then licks at your slit unashamedly. He grins, apparently pleased with the taste. “I’ll get used to it.”

“Can you- there’s, um, a spot. Higher up. Could you-?”

Katsuki doesn’t take direction particularly well, and it takes a couple of moments for him to actually locate your clit. When he does find it though, he licks and sucks at it so eagerly that your back actually bows right off the ground.

“Shit!” You gasp, wriggling against Katsuki’s face. “Oh!”

Encouraged by your noises, Katsuki just doubles his efforts. The wet, slurping noises are obscene, and your moans echo around the cavern in a way that sounds distinctly eerie; you’re so thankful that there’s no one else around for miles to hear.

“You’re so warm,” Katsuki murmurs, sounding slightly breathless, “Are you this hot on the inside, too?”

“Oh god.” You whimper, head swimming. Without even really knowing what you’re asking for, you whisper, “Please.”

Katsuki perks up at that, then drags himself back up so that his face is level with yours once more. This close, you can see how shiny his face is after being buried against your wet pussy for so long. When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on his tongue. It makes you whimper again, pressing into him eagerly. Katsuki is breathing pretty hard too, and when he presses his torso against you, he groans long and low.

This time, with the base of his tail pressed against the bare flesh of your cunt, you know for sure what you’re feeling; there’s an honest to god bump that definitely wasn’t there before, right where you might expect a dick on a human male. Katsuki notices where your attention is straying to, and brings one of his own hands down to massage the bump. It’s only then, as you peer closer to get a better look at what he’s doing, that you see what looks like a vertical slit positioned a few inches down from where his human half ends and his tail begins. His clawed fingers dance around it, rubbing at the swollen flesh around it without touching the slit itself.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you reach out your hand to stroke at the same place Katsuki is. The pads of your fingers run over the textured scales, earning a soft grunt as he presses eagerly into your touch. You repeat the same massaging motions Katsuki was doing, and as you watch, the slit seems to open wider.

It happens slowly, then all at once. As you rub at the sides of the opening, the tip of what appears to be Katsuki’s penis begins to slowly distend. You nearly pull back from surprise, but then Katsuki lets out a quiet, soft little moan, and you can’t bring yourself to pull away from him. You run the tip of your index finger around the inside of the slit, and find that it’s soft and almost rubbery, reminiscent of what you imagine sealskin must feel like. At your touch, his penis extends the rest of the way.

You blink, then sit back. “Oh.” You say stupidly, gazing at his dick.

Katsuki straightens up and sits back smugly, clearly proud of what he was packing. He seems to miss your growing alarm entirely. “Like what you see?”

You purse your lips and take a moment to collect your thoughts. “It… moves.” You say faintly.

Katsuki doesn’t look very impressed with your analysis of his penis. “Yeah. Obviously. C’mere.”

His dick is significantly pinker than his own skin tone, thick at the base and then narrowing along the length. It’s big, uncreased and smooth, and when you wrap your palm around it (ignoring Katsuki’s desperate thrust into your fist) you find that it has the same almost rubbery texture as the skin around the slit. It’s just a few shades warmer than the rest of his body, though still significantly cooler than a human; it’s odd, holding a dick that feels almost cool to the touch.

Katsuki’s tail lashes agitatedly at the ground behind him, though he doesn’t do much more than press a little harder into your hand. “Done looking?” he grinds out, clearly beginning to run out of patience.

“No.” You say absently, giving his dick a few pumps and watching him hunch over with a choked moan. His dick is practically prehensile, and wriggles in your hand like it has a mind of its own.

It’s completely unnerving and alien and really, really weird, and you hate yourself because all you can do is wonder how it would feel inside of you.

“Y/N,” Katsuki grunts, his tail slapping agitatedly against the floor behind him, “Can I? Please, can I?” The please sounds as though it’s been pulled unwillingly from him, though it seems no less genuine because of that, and he leans down to nip impatiently at your shoulder.

“Yeah.” You breathe, relinquishing your hold on his dick and watching it slap against his abdomen. You lie back onto the moss, breath hitching as Katsuki eagerly drags himself up the length of you.

The sensation of his thick heavily muscled tail nestling in between your legs and shifting with every one of Katsuki’s little movements has your head swimming, and your knees fall open even wider. His head drops to your chest and his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, humming as your head falls back with a pleased sigh. You can feel the hardness of his cock on the inside of your thigh, can feel the tip of it moving just slightly, tracing the sensitive flesh close to the crease of your hip.

When Katsuki looks up to meet your eyes, you’re not prepared for the level of franticness in his gaze. He looks needy, his proud features twisted in desperation even as his eyes burn. “I’m going to mate you now.”

“Okay.” You say dumbly, clutching weakly at the moss beneath you.

The tip of Katsuki’s dick is unexpectedly soft as it presses into you, and far slicker than you had expected. You peer down at his hips, and notice for the first time that the slit that his penis is protruding from is leaking some sort of membranous fluid. You wonder if maybe you should feel grossed out by that, considering the foreign fluid is being pressed inside of you, but all your brainpower is being diverted to the slow, wet slide of his dick stretching you open.

Katsuki moans, long and low, as he clutches at your hips. “Fuck!” he hisses, baring his rows of sharp teeth. He’s obviously trying very hard to hold himself back and enter you slowly, but he’s practically trembling from the effort.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You chant, breathing heavily. Katsuki’s dick is big, and the pressure of the stretch is just bordering on painful despite the slick slide. You wonder if you’re going to feel the ache of this for days or weeks.

And then he’s all the way in, the rough, textured scales of his tail pressed flush against the backs of your thighs. Both of you have to take a moment, panting. The pain of the stretch begins to fade, and you begin to feel like you’re just on the right side of full.

You want to feel Katsuki move, and so you wrap your thighs around his hips. The scales scratch a little at the delicate skin on the inside of your thighs, but it’s so worth it for the way Katsuki groans, and the way the fins on the side of his head flap minutely. One of his palm’s plants itself firmly in the moss by your head, the other clasped tightly over your hip.

The muscles in his tail ripple and his dark scales flash in the low light as he pulls his hips back only to slide back in, smooth and fast. It’s hard to catch your breath, because the slickness of his cock sliding in and out of you is at once foreign and desperately arousing. Katsuki seems to feel the same way, because his mouth is dropped open and his brow scrunched, eyes half-lidded as he humps into the slippery heat of your pussy.

“You’re so hot,” he groans out with a huff as his hips stutter, “Feels like you’re burnin’ me.”

Dazedly, you sympathise with him; his body is several degrees lower than your own body temperature, and the coolness of his dick inside of you has every one of your nerves hyper-aware and attuned to it. It feels beautifully refreshing against your own heated flesh, the contrast almost overwhelming.

Katsuki pets absently at your hip and thigh as his thrusts begin to come faster and harder; he builds up a steady rhythm, one that seems to seek as deep inside of you as possible and quickly renders you speechless. The only sound filling the cave is the wet slapping sounds from where Katsuki is pounding into you and the grunts and pants and moans that each of you make without shame.

You feel each thrust and slippery slide inside of you so acutely, as if every one of your nerve-endings is straining towards him. The texture of his cock inside you feels so alien, and you could swear you feel it actually aiming for the spot inside of you that makes your limbs turn to jelly. You wonder if your own body feels as strangely foreign to him; you’re guessing it does, judging by the way he pants and humps into you with that wild look in his eyes. Or maybe that’s just how he usually is during sex. It’s not like you have any sort of frame of reference for sex with mermaids.

You reach down to rub at yourself, jolting a little as your warm fingertips come into contact with your heated clit – you’ve become adjusted to the cooler body temperature of Katsuki, and now your own warmth almost feels like too much. You wonder how the heat of your cunt isn’t completely overwhelming for him, but considering the dark flush overtaking his face and chest and shoulders, and the way that his jaw hangs open and his eyes have gone glassy, you think maybe it is.

He hikes your thighs further up on his waist without pausing his thrusting, the scales scraping oddly along your bare calves. “I’m gonna-” he grunts, pushing his face into your necks as his tail slaps harshly against the ground every time he fucks into you, as if he’s lost control over it.

You rub harder and faster at your clit, gasping as Katsuki bites down on the tender skin of your throat. It’s not hard enough to break the skin, and seems more like he’s trying to keep you in one place, but the threat of his sharp teeth against such a vulnerable part of you sends you hurtling towards the edge.

It only takes a few more strokes, and another twist of his cock against your g-spot, before you come hard and silently, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

“Fuck, yes.” Katsuki groans throatily into your neck, his movements only becoming increasingly intense. It feels as though he’s trying to plow you right through the rock (which is actually an incredible turn-on, though you don’t want to admit it) and you whimper and gasp as you begin to pass into the realm of oversensitivity.

Katsuki’s upper body goes taut as his powerful tail pushes him forward into you one last time, so deep that you swear you feel the tip of his dick moving against your cervix, and then he comes with an honest to god snarl. You sigh as you feel the slick gush of his cum inside of you, thicker than you’d expected, and flop bonelessly once you know he’s done.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, staring wide-eyed at the cave ceiling. The glowing algae twinkles back at you as Katsuki breathes slowly and deeply into your neck, his thick arms winding around your waist and shoulders. As the haze of your orgasm begins to fade and reality starts to set in again, you’re struck with the fact that you’ve just fucked a mythical creature, and his very weird fish dick is still inside of you. “Oh my god.”

Katsuki grunts, clearly not pleased that you’re ruining his afterglow with delayed panic. “Shhh, s’fine.” He mumbles, rubbing at the bitemark on your neck in what he apparently thinks is a reassuring manner, “You’re mine – ain’t nobody gonna hurt you.”

The two of you are clearly on different wavelengths, but you don’t bother to think to much about that particular statement. “I just fucked a fish.” You breathe. It sounds just as ridiculous out loud as it did in your head.

“You liked it, too.” Katsuki says smugly, not denying the fish part this time around.

“Dickhead! Get off me!” You say irritably, embarrassment beginning to sink in.

“No.” Katsuki mumbles childishly, snuggling into your neck and holding you tight so you can’t struggle. His dick shifts inside of you, and he grunts as you automatically clench down around it. “Stay.”

The moss is comfortable, the cave is pretty, and Katsuki’s arms around you feel better than you’d like to admit. You relax, the weight of him laying on you more soothing than you had expected, and close your eyes. “My uncle is gonna kill me.” You say, an afterthought flitting through your mind. He was so worried the last time you disappeared into the sea like that, you can only imagine what he’s going to say once you come home late after doing it again.

Katsuki snorts and kisses the base of your throat, and you feel like you could probably lie in this cave forever, listening to the sound of the ocean ebbing and flowing just outside the rocky walls. “If he’s gonna kill you,” he murmurs, lips dragging over your skin, “I’d hate to see what he’d do to me.”

#am literally gonna post this and run bc i'm embarrassed lmaoooo you'd think i'd have gotten used to posting about weird dicks but i have NOT #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #merbakugou

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hermannsthumb · 3 years ago

Note

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream · 4 years ago

Text

Going, Going, Gone (Spencer Reid x Reader) Chapter 5

Warnings: Mentions of death and injury/much angst

Word Count: 2k

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-Spencers POV-

His heart stopped. There she was. Right there, if only he could climb through the screen and grab her, shielding her from further harm. He was angry, she looked so small, from what he could make out on the screen you were tied to a bed, bound by chains, blood and wounds scattered in different shapes and sizes over your almost naked body.

Spencer heard a gasp from behind him, turning he noticed JJ staring at the screen seeing exactly what he was. He didn’t have time to deal with peoples feelings, he just needed to figure out where his girl was and quickly. Emily had joined him back at the laptop.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was full of panic and hate. Then her eyes went wide when she heard Rossi’s voice travelling up the attic stairs.

“Spencer, did you find anything yet.” Spence turned to look at the man and then back at the screen, angling his body so it was in front of Rossi’s line of sight. Emily was trying to get him to go back down stairs but he was having none of it, pushing passed her to get to the source of the commotion. Spencer couldn’t bare to listen to the angry cries of his colleague, the angry, broken cries of a father. He was too focused on taking in everything he could, trying to look passed your broken and beaten down, still breathing body, to figure out if there was anything to lead them to you.

Spencer hit a button on his mobile, a direct line to Garcia who was anxiously waiting for anything back at her cyber lab.

“Go boy wonder what have you got for me.” Penelope’s joking voice faltered when Spencer informed her of their findings. He sent the video clip of Y/N over to Penelope to analyse further. Her voice quivering as she promised Spencer she’d be found.

Spencer took a look at the screen again, noticing marks up the algae covered walls. They were water marks, which told you how high the water sometimes flooded inside the building. He let Garcia know so she could narrow her search to a building that would be underground near water and it took her mere seconds to come back with a location.

“It’s an old underground bunker, the Unsubs father was some kind of doomsday preparation nut, it’s next to the Teal River, i’ve sent the exact location to your phones.” The team were out the door in seconds, hoping and praying that this is where they would find you alive. They needed to find you alive.

“Were coming for you sweetheart just hold on, were coming.” In that moment Spencer did something he never did, he prayed.

-Un-Subs POV-

“It’s almost time. Almost time to get rid of the girl. She put up a bigger fight than I thought she would. A few more stab wounds and cuts aught to do the trick, let her die slowly in her cell, die slowly just like my girl did. They will pay, they will all pay.”

-Your POV-

You coughed. You could hear that your breathing was getting worse and it felt like the air was slowly being sucked out of you. You knew you didn’t have long left. You would have liked to cry, feel sorry for yourself, for the fact that you’d never have a future with Spence, never see your father again and never see the team you called family again, but you were too dehydrated and your body couldn’t even function enough to produce a single drop. You slumped against the sticky cold wall, dry blood smeared across your face and in your hair. Your leg was still bleeding but you’d managed to stop it slightly by using some dirty cloth from the mattress you were sitting on. An infected leg was better than bleeding out.

Your eyes closed and you thought about Spencer. How his mind would be working over time trying to piece together the clues and find you before you met your demise. You wanted to believe they would find you in time but your hope was slowly fading away with your consciousness.

You thought about your father and how he’d been in the BAU for so long, founded it with your godfather Gideon, how it was basically his whole life, as well as you. You hoped that when you were gone he’d be able to move on, that he wouldn’t hurt for too long and hopefully one day he’d re-marry, god knows he could use a strong woman in his life after your mum died.

You thought about your friends.. family at the BAU. Your best friend Luke Alvez who treated you more like a little sister, always taking you under his wing and giving you advice even when you didn’t need it. You hoped he’d stay at the BAU, that if you died, it wouldn’t effect him too much and he’d be able to get back to some kind of normal life. You wish there was a way to tell him he could have your baseball card collection, he’d always wanted it. You laughed a little, a sad laugh, already grieving for the people you were going to lose. Thinking about all the things you still wanted to do in life. They say that when you die you life flashes before your eyes, they were wrong. It’s before that, it plays through your head like a movie, going over all the things you’d never get to see.

In your mind you pictured what your wedding day would be like. Spencer would want a small wedding full of close family and friends and you’d agree. The perfect setting your fathers large back garden, flowers everywhere, surrounded by the people you love. The gentle exchanging of rings and the kiss he would give you that would still make your toes curl even when you were old and grey.

Children. You wanted at least 4. You wanted so many children with Spencer because you knew he’d make the most amazing father, even if he’d be scared they’d carry the gene for schizophrenia. They’d have his curly hair and your eye colour, his calmness and his smarts while they had your artistic nature and kindness. They’d love to stay with Grandpa, who would tell them all kinds of stories of his time in the FBI, obviously leaving out the heavy stuff. Your friends would come over and you’d always have big dinners and get togethers, BBQ’s in the summer, your lives full of life and laughter and there would always be him. Right by your side. Your Spencer. You’d grow old together, still love each other as hard as you do now. Until your last breath. You pictured going out like the scene in the notebook, old and in each others arms. The world would always be right, if you had your Spencer Reid.

You could feel your breathing slowing, the sound of heavy footsteps running down the echoing corridor. It was too late. You were sure the Un-sub was coming to finish you off once and for all, leave you somewhere for your family to find, another body in another case the BAU would eventually solve. But it was too late for you. The door swung open and your eyes closed. The pain was gone and so were the chances of seeing your Spence one last time.

-Spencers POV-

The SUV’s came to a screeching halt outside the bunker. There was a gravelled path that lead towards the doors that were hidden behind shrubs. It was one of those lucky by chance things, the team arrived and the Un-sub was outside, about to go into the bunker. While Prentiss and JJ read him his rights and stuck him in the back of the car, Spencer, Rossi and Luke threw open the metal doors and made their way inside cautiously. Spencer wanted to throw all caution to the wind. Guaranteed the two other men he was with wanted to as well. All they wanted to do was get their girl back. But sometimes looks could be deceiving and more danger could be lurking up ahead. In this case, there wasn’t.

Spencer ran down the long echoing corridor, medics behind him. The cells were empty apart from one.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can you hear me? Were here Darling just hold on okay, i’m here baby i’m here.” Spencers voice was full of panic as the three men used all their strength to open the tightly sealed bunker door. Spencer could faintly see through the porthole door, the grime and condensation obstructing his view slightly. You weren’t moving. He started to panic even more and when the door hissed and flung open it was if the world was moving in slow motion.

You were pale, eyes closed, dry blood across your practically naked body. Dirty cloth wrapped around your blood soaked thigh and cuts littered your body in all shapes and sizes. One of your hands was handcuffed to a railing next to the rusty spring covered bed and you looked smaller than you’d ever looked before. Spencer was on you in seconds. Luke had bolt cutters and had snipped the handcuff from the railing. Rossi was frozen in his spot, his daughter lifeless in front of him. Spencer lifted you carefully in his arms laying you on the ground.

“She has no pulse! She’s not breathing! She’s not breathing!” He started pumping your chest, 1,2,3,4…. check, no sign of breathing. He held your nose and blew into your mouth twice, Luke took over chest compressions as the paramedics set up the defibrillator. More Paramedics arrived, pushing the two FbI Agents away so they could work on you more thoroughly. Some tended to your still bleeding cute, needles attached to you for IV bags and then.

“Everyone clear!” The defibrillator sounded up. The shocking noise and the thud your body made against the cold floor seemed to echo all around. They shocked you a total of four times before they managed to get a weak pulse.

The ambulance ride wasn’t long, especially now that you had a police escort and most of the flashing lights in the city. You died and came back 3 times in the ambulance. Spencer hadn’t stopped crying since he found you bleeding and lifeless.

On arrival to the hospital you were instantly taken to surgery, some of the stab wounds too severe to be treated normally. The BAU occupied the waiting room, Rossi sat numbly staring at the floor, Spencer paced back and fourth, Luke kept on asking the Dr for updates every ten minutes and the rest of the team just waited for any news at all.

——————————————————————————————————

-Your POV-

You hadn’t remembered your cell being this bright. Maybe your captor had taken you outside. Maybe you hadn’t died in time to be spared of the cruel torture that was about to follow. What was that dreadful beeping sound? You blinked, your eyes taking their time to adjust to your surroundings. You were defiantly somewhere else and you started to panic, the beeping got louder and faster. You tried to sit up.

“Spencer! Spencer! Wake up she’s awake!” You couldn’t make out the voice clearly, it sounded like… your dad? But how? Were you dreaming. Maybe this was your body in its final stages playing a cruel trick on your subconscious.

You tried to talk, but your throat was dry and you were hit with a wave of pain. Someone pressed ice chips to your lips, slowly but surely you accepted them, the coolness coating your vocal cords.

“Please, please tell m-me this isn’t a d-dream.” A tear leaked from the corner of your eye and rolled down your cheek only to be kissed away by… your Spencer.

“Baby, it’s not a dream, I found you, we found you. You’re safe now and I’m never letting you go again.”

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

Welp, There we go. The final chapter! I hope you liked this mini series! If you like Criminal minds or want me to write for anyone else.. maybe Luke Alvez... let me knowwww i'll consider it ;) Please Reblog/follow/like <3333

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5-seconds-of-bucky · 4 years ago

Text

Undertow (VI)

Word count: 3.5k+

Warnings: Descriptions of physical harm to Shawn

Listen to the audio here

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5

“Are you sure that’s the right one?” Merlin asked as he helped Ripley drag Shawn’s unconscious body through the water.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s the right one,” Ripley said, not bothering to spare a glance at the subject he’d been tracking down for the past few days. “You saw him up close yourself. How could you not be sure he’s the right one?”

“I don’t know. They all look the same. Brown hair, oddly specific t-shirts, absolutely jacked even though their jobs don’t require them to be that muscular.”

“Shut up and give him some oxygen, would you?” Ripley grumbled. “Tertis wants him alive when we arrive. A dead body won’t do him any good.”

Merlin tossed a small orb at Shawn’s face, filling the boy’s lungs with oxygen without waking him up. Tertis made it very clear that he wanted the subject alive and then proceeded to explain the consequences that would occur should Shawn be dead in very close detail. It made Merlin shiver just thinking about it.

“We’ll bring him to that cove before we hand him over to Tertis. Maybe we can get him to hand over some information before Tertis beats it out of him.” Ripley made a sharp turn in direction of the cove, jerking Shawn and Merlin along with him.

“But Tertis said to bring the subject directly to him.” Merlin was too scared to act out against the boss, the thought of Tertis’ threats plaguing his mind.

“Tertis can wait,” Ripley muttered, maneuvering around the rocks that guarded the cove Y/N had been stranded in days before.

The two men squeezed Shawn through the small spaces between the rocks and haphazardly threw his body onto the floor of the cove. Scrapes could be seen all over his legs and face from where he’d been dragged and dropped throughout the journey. He took a deep breath, his lungs no longer struggling to conserve oxygen like they did under the water.

“Do we wake him up?” Merlin asked as he dragged himself out of the water.

“Could Tertis have assigned anyone more stupid to this job than you?” Ripley kicked Merlin out of his way and stopped just inches away from Shawn’s body, nudging the boy’s hip with his foot. Nothing happened and Ripley let out an annoyed huff.

“The things I have to do.” He leaned down and smacked Shawn across the face, then proceeding to wipe his hand against the algae-covered wall of the cove

Shawn’s eyes shot open, frantically searching around the room as his breathing picked up. His breath caught in his chest once his eyes landed on Ripley, who towered over him and blocked most of the light that dared enter the cove. Nevertheless, the boy’s chocolate eyes sharpened in a squint, studying the stranger in bewilderment.

“Wh-where...who are you?” Shawn wheezed out, voice hoarse and throat aching from the saltwater. “Where is Y/N? Where are we?” His eyes frantically dashed to absorb the dripping walls of the cavern and the cold rock against his legs. “Why--”

“Quiet,” Ripley demands, grinding his teeth. “I thought you asked too many questions.” He muttered bitterly, sparing a glance towards Merlin.

Shawn attempted to control his panting, which echoed against the thick rock of the cove as Ripley carried on his talking. “I’m gonna say this once, so you and your land-walker brain better think, and think fast.” At the term he had only heard his new aquatic friend use, Shawn sucked in a breath. “I’m sure you can already guess what I’m about to ask you--”

“I don’t know what you’re talking ab--”

“I said quiet!” Ripley barks. Merlin winces beside the man as he raises his arm only to swing it back and administer a harsh strike against Shawn’s cheek. Immediately, Shawn’s hands wriggle in attempts to soothe the sting on the side of his face, but he pauses and elicits a puzzled murmur when his hands remain unmoving. Turning his head, he grunts at the sight of his wrists bound together quite tightly with seaweed.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. And I don’t want any other words out of your mouth except a location we can find Y/N. Otherwise, it’s going to be your head and hers mounted on the king’s wall by dawn. Understood?”

Shawn stays quiet.

“Now, tell me where Y/N is...and I’ll set you free. We can pretend this never happened and you can carry on living your little land-walker life.”

But Shawn found the thought sickening. To revert to his life before his entire wipeout and run-in with an Atlantean was an insane demand and one Shawn would rather die than grant. “Tell me now!” A vicious growl leave’s Ripley’s throat as he continues towering over Shawn.

“Fine...guess we’re gonna get answers from you the hard way.” Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, Ripley manages a shrill whistle, calling outward to the water. “Sandy!”

The boy could not hold back an amused snort at the call. “Oh no, not Sandy! I’m really in for it now,” he chuckles sarcastically. It has Ripley wishing he would have used extra seaweed to gag him. A few light splashes were heard until a noodle-esque figure flopped onto the rock near Shawn’s captors. Menacing laughs come from Ripley, who grips the fish bare-handed complemented by a sinister smile.

“Oh yes, you are…” He inches closer to the tied up boy and Shawn gulps at the sight of the rubber tube of an animal staring back at him with the same flash of evil in his eyes Ripley was currently holding in his own. Its slippery body had Shawn visibly shivering and already imagining the shocking pain he was going to endure from the eel.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” Ripley growled. “Where is the girl?”

Wesley stared wide-eyed at the retreating shoreline. One minute, it was a regular afternoon on the beach. The next, the ocean looked to be about 15 feet farther back with waves tall enough to swallow a building. His feet were glued to the sand beneath him.

The rushing of his fellow lifeguards snapped him back to reality. He rushed towards the water, doing his best to redirect the people running into the towering waves for their loved ones.

“Ma’am, it’s not safe here. You need to run to shore and get to highland.” He grabbed the crying woman by the shoulders and turned her in the opposite direction.

“My son!” she cried, resisting Wesley’s attempts to divert her.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get him.” The woman didn’t look convinced but Wesley didn’t have time to worry about that, the calling of his name tearing his attention away from her.

“Wesley!” Y/N called as she caught sight of him in the middle of the chaos.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? You need to get back to shore!” Wesley caught hold of her arm once she was close enough, trying to turn her around so he could lead her back to safety.

“Shawn’s been taken. We gotta help him!” she said, referring to the moment she looked back in Shawn’s direction and he wasn’t there. She just knew he didn’t run to safety like she told him to. She took Wesley’s hand off her arm.

“What do you mean he’s been taken?” He followed her as she jogged ahead.

“No time to explain. Just follow me!” She looked back at him to find pure terror on his face. “Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. You just have to trust me.”

“I can’t just leave! People need saving.” He stopped abruptly, almost running into a teenager running away from the waves.

“You’ll die if you go into that water! You’re going to save a lot more people if you come with me. I can’t do this without you.” They didn’t have much time. If they waited much longer the fate of Shawn and the town would be well out of their hands.

“I know how to stop this but I do know that if you don’t help me, we’re all going to be in serious danger!”

“Fine.” He shook his head clear of the fear plaguing his mind. His chance to be a real hero was finally here. “What do we need to do?”

“Your house. There should be clues there.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you once we get there but we need to go, now!” Y/N bolted in the direction of town, Wesley following a second later.

“Wait, Y/N!” he called as she made it to the edge of the parking area. “Get in the car. It’s faster.” Neither of them said anything as Wesley floored it to his house. He didn’t know what he was getting into, but he trusted Y/N enough. If she was that frantic, something in him just knew it was urgent. They flew out and ran to the door the second the car was parked, Wesley fumbling with the keys as he tried to unlock the door.

“Did your dad have any secret rooms? Anywhere you and your mom weren’t allowed to go in? He’s gotta have some information lying around here.” Y/N ran her hands along the walls, occasionally pulling books off the shelves that littered the living room.

“I was never allowed in his office.” Wesley closed the door and twisted the lock. “He kept it locked and he always has the key on him. There’s no way we’ll be able to get in.” He led Y/N to the oak door, twisting the handle to show that it was indeed shut tight.

“Leave that to me.” Y/N took a pin out of her hair and shoved it in the lock, maneuvering it until she was able to twist the handle and let herself into the massive room.

“How’d you do that?” Wesley questioned, surprised by her quick actions. “You don’t know basic facts about yourself, like where you came from, but you know how to pick a lock?”

“I wasn’t exactly my father’s favorite. Spent a lot of days locked in my room. A girl’s gotta get out somehow.” She walked in, immediately going to the stacks of books scattered around the office. She glanced back at him to see a concerned look stretching across his face as he opened a drawer from the big desk sitting in the middle of the room. “I mean . . . uh . . .”

“Wait, I think I found something!” Wesley stared down into the open drawer. “I don’t actually know what I’m looking for but I found something.”

Y/N hopped up, nudging him out of the way to get a better look. A cartoonish looking map stared back at them, the words City of Atlantis printed out in scraggly handwriting across the top. “Uhh . . . maybe?”

“It kinda looks like something I would’ve drawn when I was five now that I’m looking at it.”

“Put that to the side for now. Maybe we’ll find something else.”

10 minutes later and they still hadn't found anything. They were running out of time and Y/N was growing more frustrated by the second. All she needed was that stupid map. She slammed her hand on the side of the bookshelf, jumping back when it moved so easily. She pressed her hand on it again, the bookcase sliding over to reveal a black and white painting on the wall.

Wesley turned around when he heard the noise of the bookcase scratching the floor. “What the--”

“This is it!”

Painted on the wall was a black and white painting of the same map they’d seen earlier, with a few extra details. Extra towers and secret dungeons were clearly labeled around the castle Y/N used to call home.

“Got it memorized?” Y/N asked, promptly turning away after burning the image into her mind.

“What? No, I looked at it for 2 seconds! Why do I need it memorized?” He still wasn’t sure what was going on in any capacity and his patience was wearing thin.

“We can’t just take this giant piece of wall with us and you’ll get lost if you don’t know where anything is. The castle is gigantic and Atlantis is even bigger. You’ll need to know where you’re going in case we get separated.” She gestured for him to follow her out of the room.

“Castle? Atlantis?” Wesley crossed his arms and sat on the desk he found the first map in.

“I’m not moving until you tell me exactly what we’re doing, Y/N.”

“We don’t have time for that.” She gestured for him to get moving again but he kept his ground.

“Tell me what we’re doing right now or I’m not coming at all.”

“Fine,” she huffed, stepping back into the room. “Shawn’s been kidnapped. The storm acted as a distraction so they could get him. We have to go save him and humanity in one sweep. There’s your explanation. Let’s go.”

“That’s like a CliffNotes version. I need details so I know what I’m actually getting into.”

“What is a CliffNote?”

“Doesn’t matter. Explain!”

“Alright, you want details, here they are.” She closed the door and brought Wesley close as if she was afraid someone would overhear her secret. “I’m an Atlantean. My dad is the king of Atlantis and he forced me into an arranged marriage for political gain. You know, as dads do.”

“My dad never did that but go on.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some news for you, buddy.”

“Hmm?”

“Anyways, I ran away not long before the wedding was supposed to happen and my dad was not happy. He’s sending search parties after me and he has spies everywhere. Your dad kidnapped Shawn to get information out of him and lure me back to the castle. Your dad’s an Atlantean, by the way.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You wanted details, you’re getting them. Now shut your clam.” Her face meant business and Wesley decided it was better to do as she said. “They’re either at the cove or taking him to one of those dungeons. They’ll stop at nothing to get me back and I refuse to ever go back to that treacherous life under the sea.”

“Ooh, that’s a song from The Little Mermaid. I love that movie!”

“You land-walkers and your stupid mermaid movies. I am not a mermaid and Atlantis is not all fun and games! I had zero control over my life down there and I am not going back to that!” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she thought of going back to her previous life.

“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s just go”

“I’m almost done, just let me explain the plan. I’ll call Douglas and he’ll get us to Shawn. If he’s at the cove, great. If not, the plan doesn’t change much. We go to Atlantis and search the dungeons until we find him. Once we do that, I’ll find my father. I’m gonna have to turn myself in while you get Shawn out. The two of you escape with Douglas. Once my dad locks me in the dungeon, Douglas will come back to get me, and hopefully, I’ll make it back here.”

“What if you can’t escape though?”

“It’s a risk we have to take. Getting Shawn back to shore is more important. I can survive down there. Shawn won’t last more than a few days.”

Wesley bit his lip as he took it all in.

“So you’re a mermaid? And my dad’s a mermaid?”

“We are not mermaids!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t have time for this. Are you in or are you going to let humanity suffer at the hands of a power-hungry idiot?”

“I’m in. Just let me get a picture of this map.” He pulled his phone out and snapped a picture of the painting.”

“That map better not leave that magic device there. If anyone else finds out about Atlantis, the whole sea population is in trouble.”

“It won’t, I promise.”

“We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s get going.” Y/N zipped out the door, not bothering to make sure Wesley was following.

He stood up quickly, taking one last look at the room before following the Atlantean out the door and into an adventure he hoped they all made out of alive.

“The current is too strong, how are we gonna…” Y/N rolled her eyes and brought her pointer fingers up in between her lips. A shrill whistle halted Wesley’s desperate ask and allowed his ears to become very appealing to the palms of his hands. As Y/N continued whistling, the noise wafted along with Hawaii’s breeze and alerted some of her friends from home.

“Douglas! Hey boy, glad you brought some friends.” She ran towards the bottlenose, ignoring Wesley’s gaping expression as her legs threaded through the waves to pet the gray rubber of Douglas’s head. “Alright guys, listen up: I need you to bring me and my friend here to the cove just a little past the current. Douglas can lead the way.” Wesley continues to study Y/N’s flapping lips and the dolphins’ calm expressions as she instructed them. So Douglas is a dolphin...noted.

“How much saltwater did I drink?” he asks, bringing a hand up to his temple.

“Oh, and could you call us some backup? We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Water spouts up from each of the dolphins’ blowholes and Y/N is greeted with eager chirps which could only send the right message.

Giggling, she says, “I’ll take that as a yes.” She turns back to find Wesley with his toes firmly dug in the sand. “Come on, we don’t have time to waste!”

“O-okay…” he decides, slowly wading his figure into the water. “I still don’t know how we’re getting through that current.”

“Oh, only the fastest transportation known to sea.” She spares a confident chuckle, before gently grasping Douglas’s dorsal fin. “Ever ridden a dolphin?”

“Um...once. When I was six...and it was technically a figurine on a carousel.”

“I don’t know what that is but it sounds close enough to me!” Y/N decides, readying herself as Wesley mimics her stance and takes hold of the bottlenose nearest to him.

“We’re ready when you are!” A series of chirps sound from Douglas.

“Yes, I promise I’ll get you Harry Styles’ autograph,” she groans, before surging off into the water with Wesley’s horrified screams keeping her company along the way.

“Just tell us already, Shawn. This whole . . . torturing thing is getting kind of old, don’t you think?” The boy was twitching helplessly against the rock, staring up at Ripley and Sandy, whom he was gripping with an unyielding fist. Foam from the previous administrations of the eel to his ribs is spat from his mouth and onto the cold, hard surface of the cove as he maintains his unblinking stare with the knight. Quickly, they flick down to the slick eel controlled by Ripley’s fist.

“I hope you get hooked, canned, and sold,” the boy muttered sharply, trying to control the tremors still sweeping through his body.

Ripley hums at this. “Very well.” The screams Sandy’s electrified body pulled from Shawn echoed around the cove in a haunting manner. Even Ripley found his arms covered with chills, but he refused to acknowledge them.

“You ready to fess up now? I’m sure it’ll only be a few more whips of Sandy’s tail before we leave you for dead.”

“Why--why are you doing this?” Shawn manages through a whisper. “Why does she matter so much to you. You don’t own her.” A strangled cry left Shawn as he maneuvered his body against the rock.

“I could ask you the same thing. What’s a land-walker want so badly from an Atlantean? For all we know, you could be planning to send her away for experiments and expose our whole kind to your world. So, tell me, Shawn, what is your motive for not giving me answers?”

Douglas and tens of other bottlenoses crept slowly towards the cove as soon as Ripley’s booming voice became apparent. Wesley gulped, finding the octave and swing and cadence of the voice all too familiar for his liking. As they neared the edge of the cove, Y/N dismounted from the dorsal fin of her companion and Wesley mimicked the action from his.

“So what is it, Shawn? Hmm?” Ripley started slow footsteps towards Shawn, urging the boy to clench his teeth in preparation for another round of jolts against his body.

Y/N spoke quietly to Douglas and the others, urging them to stay put as she and Wesley heaved themselves up onto the rocky edges of the cove. Both Merlin and Ripley had their backs turned to them and Y/N perceived their slow-moving figures as they cornered a trembling form.

“Tell us! NOW!” The same thundering voice from moments before reintroduced itself. And now with--somewhat--of a visual, each of Wesley’s new-built fears had all come true before his eyes.

“Dad?” The boy whispers meekly.

Look out for the next part of Undertow coming 3/19/21

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heliads · 4 years ago

Text

Troubled Waters Chapter 5: Forgotten City

Strange happenings are starting to plague Beacon Hills. Scott McCall and his pack have always been able to defend their hometown no matter how dangerous the threat, but they may need the help of mysterious newcomer Y/N L/N.

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Scott stands alone, a million thoughts rushing through his head. Y/N has betrayed them, again. It seems like he’s stuck in a loop- he trusts her, she lies to him. He trusts her, she lies again.

Scott’s friends tell him that it’s not his fault she got away, that she had all of them fooled, that he needs to stop blaming himself for not being able to stop her. It doesn’t matter, he knows it’s his fault anyway. He was on guard, he should have been there to keep her safe and securely with them.

Yet, Scott’s still thinking about what happened. He had listened to Y/N’s heartbeat every time she spoke of the naiads, and she had never once lied. She did truly want to take them down, and save her people- but then why would she run?

Regardless of Scott’s musings, the outside world is going from bad to worse. The bodies of dead fish and small sea creatures litter the beaches, far more than normal. None of them seem to have any wounds or reason for death, yet hundreds of them lay dead on the shores, dying from some internal cause that worries Scott and his friends.

The waters, too, are facing unrest. More often than not, Scott and his friends have walked down to the lakes to see the water tinged a dark crimson, the waves washing scarlet and staining the shores. It’s as if the seas have run red with blood.

The scent of saltwater surrounds the town as the wind brings in the sea air. It’s a constant reminder to Scott and his friends that something is not right, something that continues to worsen and twist until it will destroy the town.

Eventually, Scott has had enough and he calls for a pack meeting. They’ve tried learning about the naiads and questioning them, and nothing has worked. Now, it’s time to take matters into their own hands and seek out the naiads themselves. Deaton has used his abilities as a druid to come up with some concoction that will allow them to breathe underwater, and so the pack finds themselves at the shore’s edge.

They slowly walk into the waves, letting the water close over the heads. At first, panic sets in. What if Deaton’s magic doesn’t work? What if Scott and his friends all drown? Scott forces himself to push away his fears and takes a deep breath. Instead of getting a mouthful of water, Scott finds that he’s able to breath normally.

A few feet away, Kira speaks, her voice distorted by the water. “You know what, I think I’m crossing scuba diving off of my bucket list. I think I’m all good with deep water experiences.” Scott laughs at that, grateful to his friend for helping push away his concerns.

They’ve only gone a short distance into the water when a figure approaches them, swimming with purposeful strides through the water. Scott realizes it’s another naiad, who speaks once he gets close enough to the pack. “What are you humans doing here? Turn back now.”

Scott closes his eyes briefly, opening them to reveal the scarlet glow of an alpha. “We’re not all human. We need to speak to whoever made the decision for you to come to Beacon Hills.” The naiad considers the pack briefly, then nods and gestures for them to follow him.

Soon enough, Scott and his friends find themselves on the outskirts of a city. It’s built of great stone blocks, with algae and barnacles studding the surfaces. It appears desolate and ancient, as most of the buildings have collapsed or feature broken and cracked blocks. The naiad leads them to one building in the center, one with a massive domed ceiling. As they enter, Scott realizes that several chunks are missing from it, and the broken ceiling allows beams of light to cast dim shadows on the stone floors.

Another naiad comes out to greet them, this one in metal armor that reminds Scott of the images of ancient Greek warriors they had seen in the mythology books. The naiad looks ageless, as if he could be either in his early twenties or early twenty thousands. A crown encircles his head, a dark metal long since blighted by rust. Scott realizes dully that this naiad must be the one in charge, the king of this desolate city. He speaks with a conniving voice that makes Scott shudder.

“So, you’re the ones who’ve been asking about us.” Scott finds the courage to answer the naiad. “Yes, we’d like you to go back to your old territory. You taking over Beacon Hills is hurting our friends, and we are here to protect our town.” The king laughs. “You think you’re in any position to threaten me?” He leans forward, suddenly interested. “Actually, I’ll make you a deal. According to the traditions of our people, visitors are allowed to be granted requests if they can prove their worth in a duel.”

Scott looks at the naiad, confused. “So, you want me to fight you and if I win, you’ll leave?” The naiad smirks. “Of course. Oh, and when you lose this duel you will die. That I can promise you.” Scott steps back. He looks at his friends, all of which are staring at him in the same stunned silence. The king looks bemused. “So, will you accept my offer? It is the only way to get us to leave your town. If you win, of course.”

Scott’s mouth feels dry. Even if he’s an alpha werewolf, he still doesn’t like the idea of taking on this king. He straightens his shoulders, trying to give off the aura of confidence he doesn’t quite feel, and opens his mouth to speak. “I-” He is interrupted by the doors of the building being flung open. Another figure steps in, dressed in similar armor to the naiad standing before Scott, except her armor is gold where his is darkened black.

She strides purposefully down until she’s standing next to Scott and his friends, facing the naiad. “I accept the challenge on behalf of Scott and his pack.” With a jolt to his heart, Scott realizes that this newcomer is Y/N. He looks at her in shock, and surprisingly, more than a little admiration. She looks powerful in her armor, eyes flashing the bright sapphire of the naiads as he challenges the king of her own people. He realizes she looks so confident because she’s finally in her element. This is the city and the home of the naiads, this is where she belongs.

The king looks angry to see her. “You cannot be here! This is our land now, and what’s more, this is their fight.” Y/N just shakes her head, a satisfied smile slipping across her face. “I am Y/N L/N, descendant of the house of Amphitrite and true heir to the throne. I shall challenge whoever I wish.” The naiad looks stunned, and Scott notices that he seems almost nervous, as if he hadn’t wanted Y/N to be here.

As he’s taking all of this in, Scott realizes he can’t let Y/N volunteer to fight instead of him. “You can’t do this, Y/N. This is our problem, I have to be the one to solve it.” The king’s eyes glint with ice, evidently pleased to see the discord between the two former friends. “They will have to approve of you accepting their place in the duel, you know. Tradition decrees that, and I don’t believe you have the majority in your favor.”

Y/N throws a glare his way, and gestures for Scott and his friends to follow her a distance away from the naiad. Scott is the first to speak. “We can’t let you do this, Y/N! We were the ones who came down here, and you shouldn’t be risking your life for our goal.” She shakes her head. “I need this to happen for my family and my people. Besides, who do you think has the best chance at winning against him- you, who found out about the existence of naiads a week ago, or me, who’s been training for this almost her entire life?”

Stiles points a finger at Y/N in agreement. “I mean, she’s not wrong there.” Y/N nods. “Look, I’m your best bet at beating him. Are you going to let me do this or not?” Scott sighs, but relents. “Fine. Let’s tell him.”

The king does not seem pleased that Y/N will be challenging him, but in a split second his face changes from glowering to the usual cocky smirk. “Excellent. I suggest that we duel in one hour’s time, at the city center. Unless you’re not ready?” Y/N just brushes his attempts to unnerve her aside. “Sounds perfect.”

Scott and his friends are able to walk with Y/N until the city center, at which point the naiad directs them to stand at the side, away from the fighting. The rest of the pack leaves to go to the sidelines, but Scott can’t resist and stays with Y/N for just one moment.

“Thank you, Y/N. We couldn’t do this without you.” Y/N smiles at his words, adjusting the sword in her hand and a few straps of her armor. “It’s what has to be done. And Scott? I just wanted you to know- I didn’t want to leave you that day. I just realized that my family would most likely be hurt by the new clan coming in, and I had to make sure they were alright. I didn’t know if you would let me go by myself, so-” Scott finishes her sentence. “So you left as soon as you could.”

Y/N looks at him with saddened eyes, but Scott just nods. “I understand, Y/N. You did what you had to do. It’s alright.” She looks relieved, but her calm attitude changes when the naiad shouts out from across the center that the duel will be starting. Y/N grips her sword, doing last minute preparations. “Wish me luck.” Scott touches her shoulder comfortingly. “You’re going to win this. I know you can.”

With that, Scott is ushered away from her and back to his friends. As he stands next to them, he watches as Y/N faces the king across the dueling ground. They raise their swords in salute, and then stand, ready to fight. A signal is given, and the two opponents charge towards one another. As the sound of steel crashing against steel echoes through the air, Scott draws in breath, suddenly nervous. The fight has begun.

tag list: @savingprivatecass @lolychu @linkpk88

#teen wolf #scott mccall #scott mccall imagine #scott mccall x reader #scott mccall imagines #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf series #scott mccall series

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Sub Rosa [66]

viii. how we get to peace

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: creepy parasitic worms, death, angst, violence.

Summary: You, Bellamy, and Clarke all realize how far you’re willing to go to stop the war in the valley, but you’re quick to learn your decisions have consequences.

a/n: the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

All of you are still looking at Clarke in shock, except for Bellamy who is still turned away, when Diyoza chimes in again, noticing the prolonged silence. “I don't care how you make it happen, Clarke. Bring her to me in chains and I'll do it for you, or she can surrender herself. But your Red Queen doesn't seem like the type.”

Clarke responds, “Let us worry about that.”

“We have an understanding then.”

“We do.”

“Good. Call me back when it's done and we can work out the details of your crossing. Over and out.”

As soon as the radio falls silent again, Bellamy spins to face your twin, voice hard. “No way.”

She tries to argue, but he cuts her off immediately, glaring at her now. “We are not killing my sister, Clarke. I don't care how crazy she is.”

You turn to Clarke, wanting to take her side because you’re worried about Madi too, but you don't want to do that at Octavia’s expense. “Clarke, I want to keep Madi safe just as much as you do, but Bellamy’s right, we can't kill Octavia. Not when there could be another way.”

Bellamy steps over to Clarke and snatches the radio from her hands, before turning and passing it to Monty. “There is another way. Run the loop. The rover's charged, we're getting our friends.”

And then he turns his anger back to Clarke. “That was reckless. We had a plan, you agreed.”

“That was before Octavia made Madi her second.” The words sober everyone in the room, now more aware of the danger that Madi faces by Octavia’s side. “That army marches to war as soon as they find out the eye is down. I can't let that happen.”

Bellamy retorts, “And what if it was your twin? What if she was the one that needed to be killed to save Madi and get us into the valley, would you do it? Because I don't think you would.”

You look at Clarke, curious on her answer, and she shakes her head and stutters, “I-I don’t know. But it’s not my sister, it’s yours. Your sister who turned into a dictator in the last six years, your sister who kills her people when they try to defect, your sister who has become too power hungry to see that there are other ways to get to the valley that don't involve a war.”

You look around at everyone, your gaze staying on Bellamy as you can see Clarke’s words start to sink in. You muse, “So, we don't tell anyone?”

Monty counters, “They'll know as soon as we drive away.”

“Who cares? We grab Madi, and we go.”

Clarke cuts him a look, exasperated that he still doesn't understand. “Bellamy, she's by her side.”

“She's my sister, Clarke.”

“I know.” And you can hear the resignation in her voice. You know that she doesn't actually want to kill Octavia, but if killing Octavia keeps Madi alive, then you know she will choose Madi over the Wonkru leader any day. “Tell me what else to do!”

“We stop the war.”

Harper looks at her boyfriend, confused about his sudden statement. “How?”

Monty reaches into his pack and pulls out a glass jar full of green liquid, and you look at it in curiosity realizing what it is as he says, “Algae.”

Bellamy, however, does not seem curious about the algae, because he lets out an exasperated sigh and scrubs a hand over his face in frustration. “Monty-”

“Cooper already gave me permission to show what it can do! She's meeting me this afternoon so I can take her to the-”

“That's enough.”

Harper backs Bellamy up and adds, “The first batch put Murphy in a coma for almost a week. By the time it's ready to eat-”

He cuts her off, shaking his head. “We're not gonna eat it this time, we're gonna feed it to the plants. If I can make the farm viable again, then we'll still have a chance.”

Your brows lift, impressed, and you start to ask him a question about how confident he is in the algae when the door swings open. You all turn to it in shock, freezing like a bunch of kids that have been caught doing something they aren’t supposed to when you see Octavia standing there, her eyes locked on the screen behind Monty. “The spy did her job?”

Cooper and Miller step in alongside their queen, and Bellamy walks over to his sister, working on damage control, aware of how bad it looks that no one came to warn her. “Uh, we were just about to send for you. I told you Echo would get it done.”

You feel a flash of anger at the mention of her name, despite the fact that her and Bellamy are broken up, and you shake your head, trying to control yourself. Octavia turns to look at Monty, wanting more information. “Can the enemy still see us?”

“For now, yes. It's technical, but-”

Cooper cuts him off, and as terrible as she appears to be, she seems to understand perfectly. “He has to run a loop to mask our troop movements. When the time comes, we need to clear the surface to reduce the risk of anyone noticing the same people moving in the same direction again and again.”

“Well done, Monty.” Octavia turns to look at Cooper and then Miller, giving her commands, “Load the worms into the rover and mobilize the army. War is here.”

And then she turns to leave all of you behind, staring at each other in shock. Any plan you had to get out fast and save your friends before the worms arrived is now foiled by Octavia knowing the eye is down. You sigh, already aware that this is going to complicate things further, likely putting Bellamy and Clarke at odds even more so than they were minutes ago. You know you're about to be caught in the middle of them, so you rack your brain, trying to figure out how you can fix this. And then you remember Indra, shocked by Octavia and who she has become, seemingly willing to stop this war if given the choice. You turn and look between your twin and your former lover, offering up your solution. “We need to meet with Indra. If anyone can stop this before it happens, she can.”

They both nod in agreement, and Bellamy looks at Harper. “We need you to pass the message to Indra, we can't be seen looking for her. Tell her to meet us in the building that Octavia used as a war room before we marched the first time. She’ll know where that is.”

Harper nods, and hurries out the door, and you watch her go before you mutter, “We’ll need to get there without being seen.”

Clarke nods, “I know just the way. When Jaha and I took the bunker for Skaikru, we spent a lot of time staring at the schematics for this place. There are a lot of passageways that can get you from one end to the other without seeing a single soul.”

“Then let’s go.”

Clarke leads you from the room and into a closed off hallway, taking you through the bunker and up to the exit without coming across anyone, as promised. Once on the surface, the three of you split off, taking different paths at different times to reach the building, so that no one sees all three of you heading to the same place together. All of the sneaking around reminds you of when you spied on Pike for Kane, and a pang cuts through you, somehow nostalgic for that time. You don't know why, maybe it’s because everything felt simpler then, even when you were on the brink of war with the Grounders. Maybe it’s because things were better with you and Bellamy. Even though he was closed off and working with the enemy, the two of you were together. Now, you feel like a stranger to him. Though, the more you think about it, you kind of feel like a stranger to everyone. You saw your mother and Kane for a few minutes before they were taken away to the valley, and now you haven’t seen them since. There’s still so much they don’t know about the time you and Clarke spent on the ground without them, and there’s clearly so much you and Clarke don’t know about the years everyone spent in the bunker.

Bellamy and the others from the ring are clearly very close. You’ve heard them all refer to each other as a family a few times since getting to the ground, but you have no idea what their time in space was like. You have no idea how they passed the time, or kept themselves sane, or when Bellamy moved on from you and fell in love with Echo. And now everything just feels so awkward. Everything is so different from the last time everyone was together six years ago. Everyone has changed so much, and there’s been so little time to get reintroduced to the new versions of each other. With a war hanging over everyone’s heads, the awkwardness persists, everyone still working to get comfortable around each other again in the few quiet moments you have been given.

You pull yourself from your thoughts when you see the building up ahead, and you step inside, seeing that you’re the last to arrive before Indra does. As you wait for your guest, the three of you all occupy the room with anxious energy. Clarke stands near the window, peeking out every few seconds. Bellamy paces back and forth across the room, and you rack your brain trying to remember if that's a habit he’s always had, or one he picked up on the ring. You never figure it out, because Indra steps into the room, already questioning all of you before she even gets the door closed. “We're readying for war. Do you know the risk I'm taking meeting you here?”

“Yes, thank you for coming.”

She warily eyes Bellamy, not sure she trusts the thanks before demanding, “What do you want?”

You step forward, feeling like right now, you might be the calmest person in this group. At the very least, you’re the middle man, stuck between two opposing sides, making you the most qualified to update Indra. “Clarke talked to Colonel Diyoza. She's offering all of Wonkru safe passage to the valley, all Octavia has to do is surrender.”

“By now, you've realized she would never do that, so I'll ask you again. What do you want from me?”

“Peace without war is still possible. Now, you're her advisor, she'll listen to you.”

“Why would I advise her to surrender in a war she's likely to win? Thanks to you, we can march freely on the enemy while the worms ravage them. By the time we get to the valley, the only thing left to do will be to clean up the mess.”

Clarke counters, “And if the worms ravage the valley?”

“A risk she's willing to take.”

You think about the conflict, about the mess all of you will have to clean up, or another war you’ll have to fight, despite not wanting to. An easy victory, sure, but a messy one. A messy one, that relies on the worms. You turn to Indra, trying to hide your excitement at the thought. “What if the outcome of the war wasn't certain, if she didn't have the worms? Would she still fight?”

“If she didn't have the worms, both sides would take heavy losses.”

Bellamy seems to understand what you’re saying and adds, “Exactly. If all it took to save her people from that and deliver them to the promised land was surrender, would she do it?”

“I would hope so. Of course, you would never see the promised land because she would know it was you and, brother or not, throw you in the pits.”

You start to wonder if she’d really do that, throw Bellamy in the pits. And then you start to worry if she’d do that to you. To Clarke. To Madi. And the more you think about it, the more sure you are that she would. If any of you stand in her way, you’re sure she won’t hesitate to take you out. You fight against your growing anxiety as Clarke starts to formulate a plan based on your initial suggestion. “Not if she thought it was Cooper. There's a failsafe in the processing room, I saw it when we were there. A way to kill the worms if they ever-”

Indra cuts her off, scoffing, “Folly! Cooper would never push that button, and since she's the only one that handles the worms-”

Clarke now cuts her off, “Cooper would be dead. We'll make it look like an accident. You would be the first responder, hit the failsafe button. No more worms.”

“No more war.” It only takes a second for her to decide before she looks between each of you, giving you her answer. “Do it. I don't want to know how it’s done, just send for me when I’m needed. The army is preparing in the atrium. I’ll hit the button, and play the part.”

She watches you all nod in agreement before she turns and slips out the door, leaving the three of you to plan a murder you had no idea you’d be committing when you woke up this morning.

The plan falls into place quickly when you remind Bellamy and Clarke about the meeting Monty mentioned he was going to have with Cooper in a few hours. From there, you all decide to take her from the meeting, into the biolab, stage the accident with a torn glove, kill her, and then notify Indra. You convince yourself not to think about the fact that you’re about to kill someone, so unused to killing people in the last 6 years. Wanlida came out of you easily when you, Clarke, and Madi were threatened by the prisoners, aware that it was you vs them. Now, you try to convince yourself that killing Cooper is the same thing. She’s just as bad as Octavia, she’s the one that put the worms in someone still living, she’s Octavia's right hand man. With her out of the picture, everything will fall into place. It has to.

Which is why you now stand crouched behind a row of plants, tuning out Monty’s words to Cooper, waiting for Bellamy’s signal. He stands nearby, a rag in his hand doused with chloroform, watching Cooper inch closer and closer. You keep your eyes on him, and suddenly he turns to you and nods his head, signaling for you to stand and take a few steps, making noise as you go. The trick does what it’s supposed to, and Cooper turns towards you, calling out, “Is someone there?”

As soon as she’s turned away from him, Bellamy jumps out of the shadows and holds the rag over Cooper’s mouth, and you see her struggle and fight as Monty calls out to Bellamy, trying to get him to stop. As soon as you hear Cooper fall silent, you step from the shadows, motioning for Clarke to join you, and Bellamy throws Cooper over his shoulder and carries her over to where you stand waiting, near the door to the biolab. You look over at Monty, knowing he's your only way into that room. “Monty, we need you to open the processing room. Please.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

Bellamy counters, “Explain later.”

“Actually, if you want me to open that door, you'll explain now!”

Bellamy looks over at him, expression growing softer. “I know it doesn't look like it, but this is how we stop the war.”

“I was stopping the war!”

Clarke, who has stayed quiet through the entire exchange, snaps, “Keep your voice down! If anyone hears us-”

He cuts her off, deadpanning, “You're killing her, aren't you?”

The three of you exchange a look, knowing that Monty seems clearly disturbed by the plan, but you also know he deserves to know the truth since you’re asking him to be involved. So you look his way, and nod once. “Yes.”

You grab the broken magnet he used last time and hold it out to him, eyes pleading. You know it’s a lot to ask of him, the engineer never fond of killing, but there’s no other way for the three of you to get in that door. Monty sighs and then shakes his head, clearly upset that he’s making whatever decision he’s decided on. He takes the magnet from your hand and mutters, “And, of course, I help because what's one more, right? We're already murderers.”

As Monty works to open the door, Bellamy counters, “That's not fair. We're talking about taking one life to save hundreds.”

“Really?” He turns to look at Bellamy, stalling his movements. “Then let's kill Octavia.”

Bellamy drops his gaze, and you and Clarke avoid Monty’s eyes, aware that discussion has already been had, and didn't play out the way anyone wanted it to. Monty shakes his head again and turns back to the lock. “Didn't think so.”

You hear the lock click and Monty pushes the door open a crack before he turns and walks away, not looking at any of you. He drops the magnet on the way out, and Bellamy calls out to him, voice pleading, but Monty never turns around, never acknowledges any of you. He just shoulders his burden and walks out the door, leaving the three of you to your dirty work. You look over at Bellamy, noting his torn expression, and you’re sure you must look the same because Clarke whispers, “We're doing the right thing.”

Bellamy glances at her before heading towards the open door. “If you say it enough, maybe I'll believe you.”

You follow him into the room, and Clarke walks in last, closing the door behind her. You jog ahead of Bellamy and unzip the biolab, pushing the flaps open so he can step inside and set her on the ground. Clarke hands you one of the radiation suits near the door, the one Cooper uses to protect herself when handling the worms, and you and Bellamy dress her in it as Clarke searches for worms to use. She finds something as you pull out your knife and cut a hole in between the fingers on Cooper’s glove, and Clarke drags over a large locked box labeled: “Adults. 2 days old.”

She swings open the glass cage that once held a live body and she sets the box on the edge, unlocking it and holding it in place. As soon as she sees you and Bellamy are finished, she says, “You two go stand outside. I’ll knock the box over and run over to you, and you close the lab up behind me.”

“Clarke, are you sure?”

“Yes, now go.”

You and Bellamy stand outside and hold the flaps closed, and Clarke makes sure you’re in position before she counts, “3...2...1...go!”

As the words leave her mouth she lets go of the box, leaving it to teeter precariously on the edge. She takes off running towards you and Bellamy and you pull open the flaps so she can run outside before you and Bellamy quickly bring them back together and zip them closed. As the zipper reaches the floor, the movement of the worms becomes too much and the box shifts to the right, into the open air, falling off the ledge and tumbling to the ground. You shiver as you watch them scramble out of the box, seeking the warmth of a human body, and it isn't long before they find Cooper and get into her suit. You see her body jerk as they burrow into her skin, but still she doesn't wake.

It takes a few minutes of waiting and watching before Cooper wakes with a start, slowly trying to piece together what happened to her. But as she turns, she sees the open box of worms and watches as a few scurry past, and she pulls herself to her feet as fast as she can, catching a glimpse of her torn glove in the process. She turns, clearly ready to head for the door, but her eyes fall on the three of you instead. She’s clearly fighting back tears as she yells, “You'll all die for this.”

Seconds after she says it, she lurches forward, falling onto her knees, groaning out in pain. She tugs off her helmet and struggles to get the suit unzipped, crying out in pain as she does. You watch in horror, aware of exactly what’s happening as she tugs up her shirt to reveal her bare torso. You see multiple worms slither beneath her skin and you shiver as she cries out in pain and screams, “Please make it stop!”

You turn away, no longer able to look, subconsciously ducking your head towards Bellamy’s chest, using him to shield your eyes. It takes a second for you to realize what you’ve done, and you start to pull away, feeling awkward, but he surprises you by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. Clarke turns to look at the two of you, and though you can't see it, she fights to hide the smile that threatens to break onto her face. Instead, reminded of Cooper’s presence by another scream of pain, she mutters, “Let's go, it'll work. Octavia will have to surrender.”

She turns and leaves, and Bellamy hesitates for a moment before he turns you both, putting his hand on your lower back to guide you forward. The three of you head out into the farm, pulling the door closed, making sure it locks behind you. Clarke grabs Monty’s discarded magnet on her way out and turns to you. “You signal Indra, we’ll meet in our tent. Bellamy and I will take different routes and meet you there.”

You nod and the three of you split off, and you start on the path that will take you through the atrium. The sound of war preparations grows louder as you get closer, punctuated by shouts, the clang of weapons, and the thud of last minute sparring. As you step into the atrium and follow the ramp up to the exit, you casually seek out Indra, careful to not draw attention to yourself. When you finally find her, you see that her eyes are already on you, and you nod your head, so small that no one can tell. She gives you the smallest of nods back before she turns her gaze back to her troops and begins to give commands, leaving you to slip out of the bunker and into the cool night air.

You look up at the stars as you follow the streets to your tent, in no rush to have the post mission discussion which will likely include a recap of the murder you just comitted with your twin and Bellamy. You trace a few constellations as you scan the sky, disappointment rising in you when you reach the tent faster than you expected. Bellamy and Clarke are already inside when you arrive, Clarke sitting on the bed and anxiously wringing her hands as she waits for you, while Bellamy paces in the space, his new normal. They look at you expectantly as you come in, and you nod, letting them know it's done, before you plop down onto the bed beside Clarke.

The three of you remain in silence for a long time, no one eager to discuss what you just did, and you’re grateful for that. You’re relieved that Bellamy and Clarke seem just as distressed as you do at what you’ve done, though you know the three of you had no other choice. Clarke is finally the first one to break the silence, and she lifts her gaze to Bellamy, looking remorseful. “You're a good brother, Bellamy. I'm sorry that I thought I could-”

He finishes for her, “Kill my sister? The truth is, if she was anybody else, I would've beat you to it.”

You smile at them, glad the two most important people to you are now burying the hatchet, and you shake your head at Bellamy’s words. “I don't think that’s true. Maybe the old Bellamy would have, but I saw your face in there, and I know this version of you wouldn’t.”

Suddenly, Octavia bursts into the tent, and you have a split second to wonder how much she’s heard before she points at Clarke and demands, “Take her.”

People file into the tent, one guard pointing a gun at Clarke, and the two of you scramble to your feet in shock. Bellamy instinctively steps closer, as Miller walks into the room and sets his glare onto your sister. “You're under arrest for the murder of Kara Cooper.”

You look at him, and then Octavia in complete shock, as Bellamy exclaims, “What? This is insane!

“Is it?” Octavia cocks her head to the side as she appraises the three of you, “We weren't taking the worms. The eggs are already loaded in the rover, so what was Cooper doing there?”

The three of you exchange a shocked look, as Miller grabs Clarke’s arms and pulls them behind her back to cuff her. Octavia keeps her eyes solely on Bellamy. “Careful, big brother, or I'll think you helped her, and we don't have enough prisoners to settle this in the arena.”

You look at Clarke, growing worried and she shakes her head, warning you to stay silent. You start to comply until you hear Octavia muse, “Oh, well. I guess we'll have to settle for an execution.”

She turns and heads out of the tent, and your eyes go wide as you look at your twin, not sure you’re even processing the words. Miller grabs Clarke and starts to pull her away, and you look at him, begging, “Miller, let her go! This is crazy, she didn't do anything!”

But Miller keeps pulling her away as Clarke fights back, dragging her feet. You lunge at them, trying to reach them and pull your twin back to you, only to be held back by Bellamy. You fight against him as you yell out to his sister, “Octavia, get back here! Octavia!”

Clarke calls your name through your yelling, locking eyes with you. “Keep Madi safe, promise me!”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, but you nod. “I promise!”

She relents, allowing Miller to take her away, relieved that even if she dies, Madi will be safe. You, however, do not relent, continuing to kick and scream and call out to Octavia, Miller, and Clarke long after they’ve gone. Bellamy holds you the entire time, letting you tire yourself out until you’re a mess of tears, sobbing over the loss of your twin. Once you switch to crying, he lowers himself onto the bed, holding you in his arms as you cry until you have nothing left. No tears, no energy, just an empty feeling.

You fall silent, staring at the wall, too upset to do anything, and Bellamy starts to quietly hum Clair de lune, tears spilling from your eyes again as he comforts you. You don't know how long the two of you stay like that, but it feels like forever, and through your heartbreak you’re comforted by the fact that at least right now, he’s here for you. He may not love you anymore, but he’s not running to abandon you, and maybe that’s enough.

Eventually, he lays you out in the bed, tugging off your boots and getting you comfortable, pulling the blanket up to your chin. And then he stands, turning to walk away and leave you alone. Panicked, you reach out for him, grabbing his wrist and stopping him, and through your raspy throat you ask, “Where are you going?”

He doesn’t look at you, his gaze firmly fixed on the wall, and you start to worry that you scared him away. He mutters, “To make things right.”

Before you can ask what that means, he pulls your fingers from his arm and turns away from you, disappearing from the tent and leaving you alone. You feel tears threaten to fall again, despite feeling cried out, now completely abandoned. Your twin is gone, and your former lover is gone now too. You close your eyes, trying to clear your mind, praying to the Universe that sleep takes you quickly.

And for once, the Universe feels pity on you and grants your request, sending you into a deep sleep before you can even finish your prayer.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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reversemoon255 · 3 years ago

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(From September 2020 to February 2021, I worked on a Pokémon themed Dungeons and Dragons campaign for a few friends. We didn’t get very far, but I put a significant amount of work into the world, story, and several Pokémon that would appear throughout, including an original set of starters. I want to to leave some record of my work, so I thought I’d write a few summary posts. And while I designed these Pokémon, their fantastic art was done by @extyrannomon on Twitter. I highly recommend you check them out.)

Dungeons 'n' Dragonites - Phase 1: Hello Stelopy City

Our story starts in Stelopy City, located in the Wellou Region. We get a brief introduction from DJ Tomomitsu, a radio host, before each player got their own brief story segments. Our first player was Ethan, as aspiring chef, who lived on campus at his high school. Ethan was approached by one of his dorm mates with a favor (to get him out of the building), as well as having an attractive girl meandering around the kitchen (if he wished to try flaunting his culinary skills). He would then get to choose to either finish up his side-quest or go to the local fisher's market, with him transitioning between those locations taking him to the area where he would meet his starter Pokémon:

"As you enter the alleyway, the walls are covered floor-to-ceiling in moss that seem to appear as soon as the shadows overtake the sunlight. The farther you walk, the more weeds you see popping through the cracks. Once you reach the half-way point, you come to a small open space. With the sunlight now flickering down through the plants brave enough to venture off the verdant walls, the entire area shines a bright, emerald green. In the center of this area is a decently sized fountain. It's no longer flowing, but there's a decent amount of rain water filling it up close to the brim. As you approach it, even through the murky iridescent waters, you can see a thick, fuzzy amount of lichen growing all throughout the inside of the basin. As you pass by the fountain, you hear an audible sploosh. Do you turn around? (Y/N)"

There he would meet the first of our new Starter, the Grass-Type Flymph. I kept it secret that I was doing original Starters. Part of my personal excitement in planning everything was the eventual reveal of these designs I had created. Kept me going when things started feeling like a grind.

Our second player, Johnny, started off at home, woken by his father asking him to run an errand. After being able to talk to his family a bit, he proceeded to a somewhat beaten-up house on the edge of the Pokémon-overrun abandoned district where he would receive some boat parts before leaving and the sidewalk underneath him collapses. Stumbling around the abandoned subway tunnels for a bit, he would run into our second Starter, the Fire-Type Calfyre.

Johnny's player wanted to become an entertainer, which didn't give me a lot to work session one, so a lot of his opener was focused on expanding the world and giving everyone an idea of areas they would be exploring later.

Third was Orion who had a quiet morning at home before being provoked via text messages from his siblings to chase down a mysterious "Wailord in a Top Hat." This pursuit would also lead him to the fisher's market and the nearby docks, where, after just catching sight of his quarry, he would encounter the Water-Starter Squisque.

Orion's player wanted a lot of his story to be based on his relationship with his father, so most of his opening was based on reinforcing his family dynamic. Not home, everyone’s busy, focus on work. This particular Saturday was strange in that Orion didn’t have anything going on.

Our last player was Arthur, who also lived on campus. While our other three players started their segments in bed, Arthur was playing lacrosse. After having an opportunity to show off (or fail), he would be told by a friend that he had upset his girlfriend that morning (kitchen girl from Ethan's story), and needed Arthur to pick up her favorite dessert while he attempted to woo her for the rest of the day. After doing so (while being given a chance to explore some of the local stores) he encountered a hungry Houndoom who proceeds to chase him up a fire escape. Once up there he encountered our final Starter, the Fairy-Type Utaw.

After each player met their Starters, they would have a brief tutorial battle against three Pokémon they were advantageous against before running into each other, and were subsequently arrested for "stealing" Pokémon, which would cap session one.

=====

Let's talk design. Stelopy City is loosely based on Chicago, is a portmanteau of "Steel Canopy," and Wellou is a joke on Illinois. The vast majority of the campaign was to take place in this location. Most of my players had very busy schedules (so busy it took us three sessions to get through the above opener), so DJ Tomomitsu was a way for me to easily start each session with a list of things to do (side-quests), and they as a group could decide which they were the most interested in based on time. Tomomitsu himself was based on DJ Sagara from Kamen Rider Gaim, with Tomomitsu being the name of the actor who played him.

As for the starters, I tried to stick to the reoccurring themes we’ve seen over the past 8 Generations. Flymph's name is a portmanteau of Dragonfly, Errol Flynn, and Nymph (the larval form of a Dragonfly). He's meant to be a special attacker, but, like an early DND Wizard, doesn't have access to a lot of them so he brandishes his sword-like arms to intimidate his foes instead. His diet consists entirely of lichens, algae, and similar flora, storing them in his transparent stomach pouches, and can be seen sunbathing in the water, belly up, feeding the plant matter the sunlight they need to grow. He also does not like Bug-Types, and isn’t Bug himself because of Grass/Bug’s myriad of weaknesses (for balancing), plus he changes Types after his first evolution. The theme of Grass Starters is extinction, which won’t become clear until his final evolution, but you may be able to guess how he relates.

Fire Starters are themed after the Chinese Zodiac, and of the remaining four yet to be used (including Snake, Ram, and Horse), I went with Ox. Calfyre's name is a play on Calf and Fire, and is meant to play like a Barbarian. When it comes to personality he's very timid and unsure of himself like a first-time DND player might be acting in a group. Unlike most Fire-Types, Calfyre lacks a Flame Sac. Instead, his spiral horns are filled with a freon-like liquid that, when swirled, rapidly absorbs energy from the air, which he uses for attacks. This chills the air around him, and makes him one of the few Fire-Types that are cold to the touch. Which sucks, because he’s a snugly sleeper.

Water Starters are usually themed after a weapon or character class. This usually shows in the later evolutions, but it's pretty obvious Squisque (a portmanteau of Squirt, Squire, and Bisque) is themed off a lance and shield. He's a paladin in both role and personality, charging in at the slightest sign of trouble, even if there isn't any real danger. It's the typical non-nuanced idea of what people think when they hear "Paladin." He was to a degree supposed to play a catalyst role, charging into situations the players may not want to in order to force them into helping people or combat if need be. He was also the first design I settled on, being based on an old Kaijin idea I had of a lobster-knight using its asymmetrical claws as different medieval weapons.

Utaw is unique, not just in that he was a fourth or Fairy Starter, but in conception. I was only supposed to have three players, but ended up with four. As such, his design is responsive to the others. Why a dinosaur? Because I had a mammal, crustacean, and bug, was unsure if I wanted a bird or reptile, and decided to meet half-way. Why is he Fairy? Because it has very little interaction with Fire, Water, and Grass, while still having defined weaknesses and resistances to certain types. (Also, this player wanted a Dragon-Type.) He’s based on a Utahraptor, hence the name, and is misspelled to include “Claw” or “Caw.” He’s meant to play team Bard, and uses sound moves. As for personality, he's a bit of a birdbrain who enjoys fighting. Not maliciously; it’s just fun, again acting like a new DND player who’s more interested in combat than role playing.

The idea with the personalities was that each Pokémon was supposed to start out like a rookie DND player on their first campaign. Not knowing how to play their class, being uncomfortable acting in front of a group, leaning too hard into your role without bending, or just fighting everything you see without diplomacy. It felt like a fun extra layer to each of these Pokémon that tied them just as much into the DND side of things as the Pokémon.

=====

Back to our story, after being briefly detained (mostly as an excuse to give the players time to introduce themselves to each other, something my DMs have struggled with), they meet Professor(-in-training) Bianca. The four Pokémon had been found by Silph Co., and had decided to donate them to the Unovan Pokémon Research Lab. However, after seeing the Pokémon interacting with these people, Bianca decides to give them up instead. "Pokémon should be with people," after all.

I had three side quests set up following this (after they all go to the DMV to get their Trainer's licenses). The first was a general "there's wild Pokémon here" quest where they could train and catch things. There was a sale at the mall where they could get some cheap held items and have their first trainer battle, and an event at the fisher's market where they could win some free items and would lead into their first dungeon.

The dungeon was what I was hoping they would pick, and would have them chase a group of Poipole through a warehouse, with them having different battles if they chose to enter from the front or the back. After defeating them, the Poipole would be sucked through a spontaneously generating Ultra Wormhole, with a high enough perception check revealing a strange laugh, or on a 20 have them catch a glimpse of a grey Charizard O_O

From there it was a matter of coming up with (or possibly recycling unused) side-quests until we reached the point where the Starters were about to evolve. I had a few things planned; introductions to a few reoccurring NPCs, a field trip to the local museum where they would be able to catch a Yamask (and possibly learn something about the origins of their Starters), and a raid battle against a group of Onix who would recur through the campaign.

The end of Phase 1 would come about with another dungeon. In the middle of the night, Ethan and Arthur would be awoken by their Pokémon to a group of Durant having busted through the floor of the dorm and raiding their kitchen. Easily driving them off, their Pokémon would encourage them to pursue. Later, full party in toe, the four of them would explore the Duranthill. There would be a number of possible encounters, but only one mandatory fight before reaching the depths. In said encounter, while being surrounded by a group of Durant, they would receive unexpected help from this Pokémon:

With some interpretation, they would discover that this Princess Durant was afraid for the sake of her colony. A new queen had taken up residence there, and was commanding the Durant to attack the surface and steal food for her. With additional party member in toe, they would descend further with better direction, eventually discovering the lair of the Queen Durant...

#Pokemon #Dungeons and Dragons #DND #DND Homebrew #durant

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henrikanderssonart · 3 years ago

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Havmanden, The Merman 2021

Online work for GIBCA

57°46'18.0"N, 11°40'29.0"E are the longitude- and latitude coordinates of the wreck of the Danish frigate Havmanden. In Kjällöfjord, slightly north of Björkö, in the northern Gothenburg archipelago, is the uninhabited island Risö, on which I am standing facing north-northwest. On the horizon, I can see Carlstens fortress in Marstrand, with its characteristic shape of a cylinder on a block. Boats pass through the waterway in a north-south direction. I cannot remember how many times I have sailed this route along the coast heading north. Not once have I reflected upon what lies hidden here, at the bottom of the sea. I lower my gaze from the horizon and face the islet situated half a cable length from the peninsula where I am standing. Between me and the islet, somewhere on the ocean floor, is where it lies: The Danish West India Company’s ship Havmanden that ran aground in 1683.

I prepare myself to dive. From the navigational chart, I conclude that it is about 5-10 meters to the bottom. A depth I should manage to free dive, i.e. to dive without air from tubes. From the smooth Bohuslän rock, I slip into the water and put on my fins, I spit into the swim mask, gently rubbing and rinsing it with salt water to avoid misting on the glass. I wind the film forward in my Nikonos underwater camera, lift my feet from the bottom, and allow myself to float into the strait between the islands. The wetsuit provides me with buoyancy, despite my lead weight belt. I follow the cliff’s extension towards deeper waters. Tufts of seaweed and algae sway in the waves. Sunlight is refracted into rays upon meeting the water and here, close by the surface, the colours of the plants are clearly reflected. I stay close to the surface and swim farther away from land. The bottom disappears into a cloudy haze in tune with sloping downwards, and soon enough I see nothing more than a cyano-coloured soup of organic material and sediment dissolved in the water. The sea of Kattegatt now completely encloses me. I breathe through the snorkel and decide to dive. I take a few deep breaths and finally hold it. I turn in a forward somersault until I am upside down vertically in the water. In a swim stroke, I grab hold of the water and pull myself down. I can feel my feet in the air above the water surface, but soon enough they are also submerged. My journey down is reduced by the buoyancy of my body and wetsuit and I kick with my legs to continue. Soon enough, I have become neutrally buoyant, my density is equal to that of the water, I am neither sinking nor rising. One last kick with my legs and I can feel that I am now sinking by myself. The pressure of the water has compressed the oxygen in my body so that I am negatively buoyant. I continue down but I can still not see the bottom.

The story of Havmanden is multifaceted and complex, with resonance in this day and age. It needs to be told in the entirety of events that resulted in the Danish frigate ending up at the bottom of the sea outside of Gothenburg. My dive is an attempt to evoke an image and a position from an underwater environment, from which a historical horizon can emerge.

During the 17th century, Denmark, as well as Sweden, attempted to advance their positions in the evolving colonial era. At the core was the so-called triangular trade, where plantations in America produced raw materials for Europe. The production was based on slave labour carried out by people kidnapped from the African continent. Slave trade and slave labour was exchanged for profit and technological development in Europe.

Denmark and the Danish West India Company had taken control over the Swedish slave fort Carolusborg (Cape Coast Castle) in Ghana and established other forts along the west coast of Africa in order to bring people across the Atlantic to be sold. Sweden was initially unsuccessful with its colonial expansion and Denmark had a hard time establishing and keeping its colony St. Thomas in the West Indies in order. A life with hardship or death awaited the ones that were forced there.

In 1682, a new Governor, Jörgen Iversen, was appointed to oversee St. Thomas and take control over the activities on the island. In the autumn of the same year, the Danish West India Company, with the support of King Christian V of Denmark, equips the ship Havmanden. The aim of the journey was to transport Danish convicts to St. Thomas and then continue sailing to the west coast of Africa to acquire slaves. Thereafter they were to return to the West Indies with the slaves and then redirect back towards Denmark. Onboard the outward journey was material to build institutions on the island, as well as the 120 convicts that were to be forced to work in the Caribbean. Twenty of them were women convicted of prostitution. It is this captive workforce who, for some months, will come to rattle the hierarchies in the Danish trans-Atlantic trade. On January 20 when the ship is in the English Channel, the prisoners, together with the sailors, make a mutiny. The Governor, the Captain, and five other officials are arrested and killed by being thrown into the sea. When the mutineers seize the ship, they sail to the Azores and release the prisoners. The remaining mutineers plan to sail to Ireland to sell the ship, but conflicts amongst them result in some of the mutineers taking the chance to save their own skin and sail back home to Copenhagen. At the end of March, when the ship enters the Kattegatt, they are struck by a westerly storm and the ship is pushed towards the Swedish coast. The ship manages to pass through the tight passage between the islands Hälso-Källö-Hyppeln to then drop ship anchor in an emergency before running aground at Risö.

The alderman at Marstrand has the five mutineers arrested and taken back to Copenhagen. There they are executed by being tortured and beheaded.

During this time, mutiny was not unusual. However, the mutiny on Havmanden is well-documented and can be read according to the organization of means of production as well as the brutality that Europe’s elite based their prosperity upon. In his thesis, Mutiny in the Danish Atlantic World, Johan Heinsen makes note that there existed a dissonance within the European colonial project, and this was manifested in a conflict such as the mutiny on Havmanden. There are three established ways to understand and analyze mutiny. Firstly, mutiny can be understood from a sort of neurosensory perspective, where the lack of food, water, and heat results in a reaction, a kind of auto impulse, to accommodate basic needs. Secondly,

seafaring per se is an extremely ritualistic place that follows the narrative of a theatrical act of sorts. If the narrative changes, the crew can there and then, consider themselves entitled to seize control of the ship. Thirdly, as a more materialistic reading, mutiny can be based upon a conflict between those who own and rule and those whose labour is being exploited. In this case, the mutiny is justified as the ship should belong to those whose labour the voyage is based upon. All three ways to gain an understanding of mutiny can be applied to Havmanden.

Heinsen also introduces dissonance as a fourth reading of the mutiny, where a conflict arises between the speaker and the hearer. Shipping environments are places governed by sound, as visibility in open seas is filled with emptiness. When Governor Iversen attempts to calm the crew with speech, the subordinates hear something else. They know that within one year on St. Thomas they will most likely die from hard labour, starvation, and illnesses. Whatever the Governor says, this is what they hear.

The sea and underwater environment is in itself a place where cognitive dissonance becomes visible. Places that have nothing to do with each other are tied together through the expansiveness of sea, and within this translocation, profits arise, although they are values created at the expense of another. The sea is also a dangerous place where people cannot live. It is a site for the imagination and dreams, but also death.

The so-called discovery of the New World appears to also have led to some unconscious psychological convulsions in the explorers, whose symptoms are represented in works such as Atlantica (1677) by Olof Rudebeck the Elder. In his text, which is a work of propaganda on the Swedish Empire, Rudebeck explains the origin of Sweden through the myth of Atlantis. Rudebeck sets out to prove that all the world’s knowledge originates in the utopia Plato refers to as Atlantis which would be identical with Sweden. His historical works were dismissed by his contemporaries from the outset as being far too imaginative, but Rudebeck’s preoccupation with historical chronology can be read through the discovery of a New World. After Columbus disembarks in the New World, in one instance Europe becomes the Old World.

A work such as Atlantica can be understood as a symptom of a dynamic that arises between new and old territories, giving rise to speculation about who is entitled to the New World.

The camera in my hand is based on the underwater camera that photographer and adventurer Jacques -Yves Costeau developed when he popularised and medialised the underwater environment in the 50s and 60s. With his research vessel Calypso, he undertook several journeys and created films that became commercial successes, such as Le Monde du Silence (The Silent World) from 1956. In the film, we follow the work aboard Calypso, which is not only a moving diving platform on an undefined sea but also a floating photo lab for still and moving photography. In one passage, Costeau describes the overall intention with the mission, whilst also studying the graph from an echo sounder which, through electroacoustics, maps the depth of the ocean below the vessel. Costeau explains that an echo often appears, as though there is something very large thousands of metres down that has yet to be explained.

Costeau arranges for cameras to be lowered down into the dark to photograph whatever may be down there, and despite the film being developed on-board, he finds no answers. The void appears to be the driving force.

In another scene, the crew is engaged in following a group of whales. Unfortunately enough, Calypso accidentally collides with a whale calf, which is seriously injured. The crew, who feel obliged to kill the injured animal, bring out with ill-concealed delight, the harpoon cannon and kill the calf. What follows is a particularly strange scene, which swiftly tells us something about the unconsciousness of the crew. A group of sharks is attracted to the dead whale and begins to eat at the dead body. Initially, the crew becomes interested in studying the sharks, but suddenly their curiosity turns into fury. In a rage, they go after the sharks that are quite close to the surface, and with hooks, axes, and sledgehammers kill shark after shark. I wonder what it is in this specific homosocial environment that brings forth such affective actions? The sea, the emptiness, the violence - is it the scientists' critical distance and judgment that enables a verdict over the non-human sharks?

Now I sense the bottom. The pressure on my eardrums increases and I have to equalise by pressing air through my nose into my ears. The ocean floor is smooth with some vegetation. Since my time here is restricted to my ability to conserve the oxygen I have in my body, I have decided to photograph straight ahead and indiscriminately. I simply wind up the film and continuously press down the shutter. The camera has been preset, and I now photograph as much as I can.

Then, suddenly, a structure manifests itself. It is two dark lines that criss-cross over the ocean floor. A straight angle is rarely natural. When I come closer I see what it is: two rectangular piles of square stones are sunk into the sand. It can be nothing other than bricks. This is what remains from Havmanden. For 338 years they have rested at the bottom of the sea whilst the shipwreck rotted away.

The bricks filled two functions on Havmanden. Firstly, as a ballast to stabilise the ship whilst sailing. Secondly, once the frigate had arrived on St. Thomas, they were intended to become buildings from which the colony was to be ruled and administered. For a few seconds, I hover over the objects and view them through the glass of the mask. The mask and camera provide me with a sort of optical privilege that is based on the distance between myself and the stones, and between me and history. At the same time, I cannot stop but feel a sense of closeness, we share the same enclosing substance, the sea.

The stones hardly have any vegetation on them, which surprises me. I have a hard time determining their colour as the light of longer wavelengths, such as red and yellow, cannot probe this depth which blue-green can. Everything turns a cyan-colour yet I am convinced that these are not red bricks but yellow-brown. It is said they have the same origin as the bricks in the house Charlottenburg in Copenhagen, where The Royal Art Academy can be found.

The oxygen in my body is running out and the carbon dioxide induces an intense longing to breathe. I stop myself from the impulse to touch one of the stones, as they are subject to the Antiquities Act. Instead, I turn towards the surface and the sun that breaches through the waves. I kick with my feet, find some momentum, and in an instance I am back in the summer coastal landscape. Yet before I can breathe I have to blow the water of Kattegatt out of my snorkel and mouth.

A few weeks later, when I have immersed the film into developing chemicals and then allowed it to dry, I have the opportunity to, at a distance, view the event through the negatives on my light table. It turns out that I have not managed to capture a single sharp image of the wreck of Havmanden. It appears that I have either not held the camera still enough or managed to set the sharpness. Somewhat downcast in spirit I put the negatives aside before recalling Captain Cousteau’s expedition to photograph ghost echoes in the depths of the sea and I decide to look through the images one more time, as if perhaps, there might be something there. I seem to have taken some pictures straight out which, when I scan the images, appears to be nothing more than a tone of blue-green. However, I bring up the contrast and I can then see a refraction running vertically across the image. It is sunlight refracted in the water surface and hits what is called backscatter in the water, and therefore it becomes prominent. The last image from the dive is taken at the same time as I turn away from the bottom and swim upwards, it is photographed straight towards the sun from the wreck. The film on the light table is in itself a surface that lets through light and through it another membrane appears. It is the boundary between air and water that, through the forms of the waves, creates a series of lenses that generate light beams. Just as the film mediates between that at which a given moment has taken place, with certain specific requirements, the sea surface appears to create a boundary between different states. This dividing line can be likened to photography’s making of disparities, which appears to elicit both distress and possibilities, ultimately introducing a crisis. I recall one final scene from The Silent World where Cousteau says the imperative sentence “Sometimes a marine biologist must use dynamite on a coral reef”, meaning that in order to scientifically count how many fish there are in a coral reef he must explode dynamite to kill them all – taking photographs is not accurate enough. The explosion in this scene resembles a miniature version of the French nuclear test from the Mururora atoll in the Pacific during the 1960s. Cousteau acknowledges what he is doing as an act of vandalism, but also states that this needs to be done in the name of science. This type of reasoning can be understood through theorist Ariella Azoulay´s text Unlearning decisive moments of Photography, where she links the colonial ideology of the imperial right to take photographs to the imperial right to destroy existing worlds and the right to manufacture a new world.

As it turns out the realm of the underwater is not silent at all, but rather a world of dissonance.

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noaasanctuaries · 5 years ago

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NOAA launches Mission: Iconic Reefs to save Florida Keys coral reefs

The coral reefs at the foot of Florida are legendary, making up a barrier reef that spans more than 255 continuous miles. The reefs are home to lobster, sea turtles, fish, and more, and they have protected the coastline from storm surge for thousands of years. But these coral reefs, like coral reefs across the globe, are in serious trouble.

In recent decades, the coral reefs within Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary have been damaged by hurricanes, bleaching, disease, and heavy human use. The sanctuary and its partners are working diligently to protect the reefs, but our efforts have not been able to keep up with the decline. Now, NOAA and our partners are launching Restoring Seven Iconic Reefs: A Mission to Recover the Coral Reefs of the Florida Keys, one of the largest investments in reef restoration anywhere in the world. By restoring corals at seven iconic reef sites in Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary, we can change the trajectory of an entire ecosystem and help save one of the world’s most unique areas for future generations.

Why restore?

More than 6,000 species of plants and animals call the Keys home, and many are found on the coral reefs. Recreationally and commercially important fish species shelter and feed on the reefs, as do spiny lobster, sea turtles, and more.

In addition to supporting diverse animal and plant life, the coral reefs of the Keys are important for the survival of human communities throughout this island chain. Structurally, the corals create a barrier between the islands and the open ocean, dissipating wave energy and diminishing the impacts of storms and high tides. And they also form the basis of the Florida Keys economy: 5 million people visit each year – most of whom participate in ocean recreation and enjoy the reefs – contributing $2.4 billion in sales annually. Here, more than one out of every two jobs is connected to the marine ecosystem

But in the last 40 years, healthy coral cover in the Florida Keys reefs has declined more than 90 percent. This decline can’t be blamed on a single cause, but rather a web of interconnected problems. Misplaced boat anchors and ship groundings crush healthy reefs. Pollution makes it difficult for corals to survive, while overfishing damages the fish populations that are necessary to maintain reef health. Storms like 2017’s Hurricane Irma can rip corals from their foundations and smother those that remain with sediment. In recent years, afflictions like stony coral tissue loss disease have killed off huge percentages of once-healthy coral. And if all this wasn’t enough, the coral reefs of the Florida Keys also must contend with climate change: elevated ocean temperatures cause bleaching in corals, which can compromise their health or even kill them.

Seven iconic reefs

“Losing the reef is not an option, but that’s what could happen without action,” says Tom Moore, leader of NOAA’s Coral Reef Restoration Team. This April, NOAA gathered a group of more than 25 researchers, restoration practitioners, and members of state and federal agencies. Together, these experts created a first-of-its-kind restoration strategy that will focus on seven distinct coral reefs within the Keys.

The sites – Carysfort Reef, Horseshoe Reef, Cheeca Rocks, Sombrero Reef, Newfound Harbor, Looe Key Reef, and Eastern Dry Rocks – span the full geographic range of the region, a variety of habitats, and a diversity of human uses. Most crucially, these sites all either have a history of restoration success, or have characteristics that suggest restoration is likely to succeed.

Access regulations to these areas will not change, and the public will still be able to visit these reefs. However, during active restoration, we may temporarily reduce access to allow for the work to be completed efficiently and safely.

This NOAA-led effort is supported by partners at the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, Florida Department of Environmental Protection, Coral Restoration Foundation, Mote Marine Laboratory and Aquarium, Florida Aquarium, The Nature Conservancy, Reef Renewal, and the National Marine Sanctuary Foundation.

How the restoration works

Corals grow slowly, and this coral restoration project will take time. Mission: Iconic Reefs uses several phases to ensure that multiple coral species and other important reef species can be restored over time.

First, we will remove nuisance and invasive species like algae and Palythoa, an invertebrate that grows in thick mats. These species compete with corals for space on the reef and prevent coral larvae from settling and growing. Removing them will let the growing corals avoid expending energy competing for reef space.

Then, Phase 1 of the plan begins. Over the first seven to 10 years of this effort, we and our partners will outplant a variety of coral species. Elkhorn corals will be outplanted first: these corals grow relatively quickly and are not susceptible to stony coral tissue loss disease. As soon as they are planted, the elkhorn corals will create habitat for other animals, and within three to five years, they will reach reproductive maturity and be able to help grow the reef.

As the elkhorn corals take hold, other species will be outplanted, including star, brain, pillar, and staghorn corals. We intend to supplement the reefs with sea urchins and Caribbean king crab, which eat algae that can overgrow coral reefs. Over this first phase, we aim to increase the coral cover across these seven sites from two percent (the current assessed coral cover based on 2019 observations of Iconic Reef sites) to 15 percent depending on the particular habitat zone. Coral cover is a measure of the proportion of reef surface covered by live stony coral, the primary contributors to coral reef ecosystem health. A healthy coral reef may have between 25 and 40 percent coral cover, with stony corals mixed in with sponges, soft corals, algae, and other organisms.

Phase 2 of the plan builds on this restoration. Over approximately 12 years, restoration volunteers and staff will continue to outplant elkhorn, star, brain, pillar, and staghorn corals. They will also outplant other small stony corals like finger and brain coral, helping to add diversity, function, and resiliency to the reef. By the end of this phase, we aim to increase coral cover to an average of 25 percent.

Throughout the entire restoration effort, a workforce of professional and volunteer divers will serve as “gardeners” on these reefs. They will remove marine debris, nuisance species, and species that might compete for space, and also reattach any corals that have been damaged or disconnected.

“Ten years ago, this project would be just a wild dream,” says Ken Nedimyer, Reef Renewal founder. But now, “we’re at a place in time where we have the technology to undertake a project of this size and we have a window of opportunity to do so. Not only can we think about doing it, but the need to do it is overwhelming.”

Coral nurseries

Mission: Iconic Reefs, unparalleled in scope and scale, will require nearly 500,000 stony coral colonies. That number of corals is a huge lift, but by working together, multiple partners are up to the task.

Some partners, including Reef Renewal, Mote Marine Laboratory and Aquarium, and Coral Restoration Foundation, will raise the quick-growing, Phase 1 corals in nurseries in the ocean. Mote and The Florida Aquarium will augment these farms with corals grown in laboratories: these will be slower-growing corals, corals screened for resilience, and corals bred to increase genetic diversity.

“We have been working on scaling up our restoration efforts,” says Scott Winters, CEO of Coral Restoration Foundation. “But if we want to save the Florida Reef Tract, we can be more effective if we work together. We have an opportunity to combine our expertise to have a hugely significant impact on the future of our coral reefs.”

“We are excited that Mote’s science-based coral restoration initiative will be a major component in the plan,” echoes Mote Marine Laboratory and Aquarium President and CEO Dr. Michael P. Crosby. “This is an unprecedented effort to respond to an unprecedented environmental emergency. Together with our partners, I am convinced we will be able to save Florida’s coral reefs.”

The Nature Conservancy, SECORE, University of Florida, University of Miami, and Nova Southeastern University will also lend scientific expertise. NOAA’s Restoration Center and the NOAA Coral Reef Conservation Program have awarded $5.3 million in grants for restoration over the next three years. Subsequently, the plan will be funded through many public and private funding streams, coordinated by the new Florida Keys Restoration Council.

Corals for the community

“The reefs are home to this community. They are part of our way of life,” says Sarah Fangman, Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary superintendent. “We want to give people the chance to be part of healing the Keys, and we need the community’s support to make this vision a reality.”

Volunteers can assist with invasive species removal and long-term nursery and reef maintenance. Blue Star operators will be key to the continued recovery of the Florida Keys reef tract, as they are committed to responsible tourism, diving, and fishing. Mission: Iconic Reefs will also foster a new economic sector for the Florida Keys region centered around this innovative effort.

“We hope the Mission: Iconic Reefs effort can be beneficial not just in the Florida Keys,” adds Fangman, “but also in other reefs around the world. We hope we can give back and pay it forward.” Coral reefs all over the world are stressed by human use, climate change, and other global stressors. Mission: Iconic Reefs serves as a model for all these coral communities. By working together and supporting these iconic reefs, we can all create a lasting legacy and a physical and financial safety net for the Florida Keys, and help support coral restoration efforts worldwide.

[Image descriptions, from top: GIF of fish swimming above coral reef; GIF of diseased coral; GIF of coral being grown in an on-land nursery; GIF of coral being grown in an in-ocean nursery; GIF of person outplanting coral; photo of coral reef; map of seven iconic reef sites targeted by this program.]

#coral reef #coral #conservation #science #restoration #environment #stewardship #florida keys #noaa #florida

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

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Chthonic Love Chapter 6

A Greek Mythology AU featuring Yoongi/Suga as Hades and reader as Persephone

Previous Chapter: Chapter 5

Olympian ruler Namjoon has delivered you, Persephone, as a gift for his brother, lord of Death, Yoongi. You find yourself enjoying spending time with Lord Yoongi

A/N: SO FLUFFY

The two of you exited the library. "Hold on, I need to grab something," you said as you turned around and ran down the hall to your room. You opened the wardrobe and grabbed Yoongi's cloak. You jogged back down the hall and saw him propped up against the wall right where you had left him. You took this opportunity to admire his slim yet powerful silhouette. You felt your cheeks get warm as he looked over, noticing you staring at him. "Thanks again, here you go," you said, holding the cloak out. He smirked a bit and took it. And then proceeded to put it on you once more. “Hey…" you protested as he fastened it under your chin. He smiled as he did it, "It's going to be cold out there again today too.” he turned to walk, “Besides, it looks better on you.”

Is he...flirting with me? You wondered. Everything up until that point you could have chalked up to kindness. You felt your heart flutter a little as you followed him out of the castle.“Are there any cities in the underworld?" you asked as the two of you headed down the path.

"No. Not like on Earth. And it's not like Olympus either. There are of course the different places the human souls go to. For the few of us who live here, there's just the Palace. Did you live in the Spring court?" he asked, offering an arm as the two of you approached the Desert of Sorrow.

You took it and smiled at this small ritual that was forming. "Sort of. Sometimes. I have a room there. But, I'm practically feral. I think this is probably the longest I've gone without twigs in my hair and dirt on my feet. But," you lifted a foot up, "I guess the sand counts."

“Really? You don’t strike me as the feral type.” He teases.

“Well you've only known me for a day, give it time.”

Time? Like she’s actually going to stay here? Yoongi found himself thinking. He cleared his throat, "Your garden is beautiful by the way. I've never seen anything like it."

"Thank you. I hope you don't mind, the courtyard just looked so sad and empty. And it's good for me to use my energy. Do I have to name that too?" you playfully nudged his arm.

"Ah nope." he grinned. "I already named that one."

"Oh yeah? Your boring rock courtyard had a name?" you teased as the two of you approached the shoreline.

"It does now: Persephone's garden," he pulled away from you to go summon the ships.

You smiled and you found yourself hoping that Charon doesn’t have a letter for you today. As long as Hoseok knows you’re alright, there’s really no harm in staying here for a while. You played with the cloak while waiting for the ships, flapping the arms out. After a minute, you saw the ships arrive. There were several more this time. You walked over, “Why are there more ships today?”

“In general the afternoon reaping is bigger. You came to the evening one yesterday. People wake up and go to work, people get into accidents during the day. It’s just more chances at dying.” he sighed. “The morning one is pretty steady. Older people dying in their sleep. And the evening one is always less. No one wants to die in the evening, they’ve got to hold on and see their families one last time.”

“Hmmm...I guess I never really thought about the intricacies of when humans die.” you said as the two of you began to head towards the gates.

“Well death isn't something most people think about. I believe humans find it unpleasant. And most Gods and Goddesses for that matter don’t even want to consider that maybe they’re not actually immortal.”

You shrugged, “Death doesn't scare me. Every flower I've ever created or animal life I've nurtured, dies. It’s why a real flower is more beautiful and appreciated than a glass flower. The ephemeral nature of it. Death gives meaning to life.”

Yoongi looked over at you, left speechless by what you had said. You looked over at him, oblivious to how your words had moved him. “So today do I have to wait here or can I come with you?”

He took a second to process the shift in conversation, “Yeah. Now that I know Holly won’t eat you, you can come with me.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes as the two of you walked to the gate, “You thought he would eat me?!”

Yoongi laughed, “I mean...not to get too graphic but he has definitely caught some people escaping Charon, and he definitely ate them.”

“Ewwww.” you responded. But then your morbid curiosity got the better of you, “How does he decide which head gets to eat a person?”

Yoongi turned back and looked at you with his eyes wide, “You go from ‘eww’ to asking me that question? Really?” he joked.

“I told you. Feral. Wildcard.” you pointed to yourself, while grinning. “I can’t help it.” You walked over towards Holly, muttering as you passed Yoongi, “Going to let your dog eat me…”

“Cerberus, not a dog.” he laughed. “Open the gate Holly,” he yelled. Yoongi waited for Holly to grab the chain. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much.

You had wandered over to the cavern and were experimenting with creating moss on the walls while Charon and the ships started to pass through the cave. It was your first time seeing the dead being ferried up close. You wish you wouldn’t have looked. These ships had children on them and a baby. You took a deep breath. Yes you accepted death. Yes you knew it was inevitable. But things like this reminded you of why you hated the Olypians so much. The unnecessary amounts of human death caused by their meddling and bickering and encouragement of war was unforgivable to you. The algae and moss you had created turned black and died as your thoughts turned unpleasant. You sighed and headed back to Yoongi and Holly.

Yoongi was petting Holly when you walked back over. You leaned into Holly's side, resting on it and closed your eyes. "Are you OK?" You took a deep breath in and out, feeling the pressure building in your face as you tried not to cry. You shook your head 'no.' Yoongi cocked his head to the side and came closer to you. "Did something happen in the cave?" he became worried Charon or one of the corpses had said something to you.

"How do you do it?" you squeaked out. "There were like ten kids and a baby on that boat." the tears flowed freely now, slightly dampening Holly's fur.

Yoongi bit his lip and looked down at the ground, "Ah. That. Yes. There's nothing I could say or do to make that better. And it's bad, but I don't even look at who's in the boats anymore; I can’t. Which is not necessarily a good thing." He wasn't quite sure how to reassure you so he gave you an awkward arm pat. Holly whined.

“Sorry about your fur," you sniffled.

"He is a fearsome Cerberus. Goddess tears aren't going to hurt him." Yoongi tried to joke around with you. You pulled away from Holly and looked at Yoongi. How many times had he seen those same images? Enough that he couldn't do it anymore. You closed the distance between the two of you and wrapped your arms around him. Yoongi stood there for a moment, frozen. Was this real? He blinked his eyes and returned the embrace.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he says gently stroking your back.

"You've had to see it every day. Three times a day for centuries." you sniffled into him.

"It's my job. Like I said, I don't even notice anymore. It's fine." he said trying to reassure you. He rested his chin on top of your head.

"It's still awful." you respond quietly.

It is." He acquiesced.

Holly stood up, alerting you both to the arrival of Charon. Yoongi stayed like that for another couple of seconds, not wanting it to end. He forced himself to pull away and without thinking, he ran a hand down your face, wiping away a tear. He gave you a small smile of reassurance and turned toward the gates.

"Any news?" he asked as he approached the ferryman. The skeleton shook its head. “Very well. I'll see you this evening." he dismissed Charon.

Charon moved his head slightly so he could see you and then he waved his bony arm in your direction and it looked so weird it almost made you laugh. You waved back. “Thanks again for delivering my letter," you yelled. He gave another slight bow and then began to row.

"Good boy Holly." Yoongi said. He felt awkward now and didn’t quite know what to do. He looked over at you. Your eyes were still a little puffy but he still thought you looked beautiful. And soon she’ll be gone. He heard a little voice in the back of his head say. Yoongi frowned. He knew that. He did. But for some reason, it really bothered him.

You hugged your arms around yourself, the image still replaying in your head.

“We should head back,” Yoongi said as he started to walk towards the cavern.

“I don’t want to go back in there.” you immediately stated. “Sorry. It’s just..”

“It’s fine. It’s fine,” Yoongi said, not making you explain yourself. He understood why. “I’m always up for a stroll across the Desert of Sorrow.” Especially with you.

You nodded and started to walk back toward the dunes, wrapping an arm around his when you got to the black sand. You shivered.

“You’re going to need a heavier cloak.” he commented absentmindedly.

“Yeah I guess. Does your seamstress make those or do we need to collect Holly’s fur?”

Yoongi chuckled. “I’m sure Holly would willingly donate to the cause, but I’ll check with Arachne first.”

“Arachne, like the spider-lady that pissed Athena off?”

“The one and the same.”

“She lives in the palace?”

“In the catacombs beneath the palace technically. She and her children keep the less friendly creatures of the Underworld at bay.”

“Huh,” you remark. “Any other secret parts to the palace I should know about?”

“Nope. The rest of it is delightfully boring.”

“Good. It’s a nice break from the drama of the Olympic and Mortal realms.” you said. The two of you had arrived at the bridge but you didn’t let go of his arm. You told yourself that it was because you were still cold but you knew there was more to it than that. You wanted to be close to him. You felt a dull ache in your chest. You had to let go for him to open the door. To your surprise though, he grabbed your hand.

“Come on, let’s get you warmed up,” he said, leading you through the great hall. You saw Lethe in the corner. She stood up, her eyes not missing for a minute that the two of you were basically holding hands.

“Master Yoongi, Lady Persephone.” she bowed.

Yoongi kept walking. “Tea in the office please Lethe.”

“Yes sir,” she smiled as you looked at her while being dragged along. The two of you walked down the corridor to his office. He opened the door and let go of your hand. Lifting his arm he cast a fire into the fireplace.

“You. Warm. Go.” he pointed in that direction.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. The stack of furs you had assembled yesterday were still in the same place so you curled up on them.

Yoongi walked over to his bookcase, shopping for something to work on. He pulled out a few notebooks and stacked them on his deck. He poked his tongue against his cheek as he went back and browsed for something for you to read. But maybe you didn’t feel like reading. Maybe you did. He couldn’t quite decide what to do. Fortunately for him, there was a knock at the door. “Come in.”

Lethe entered carrying the tea tray. “Here you go.”

“Thanks Lethe,” you turned around to say. She smiled at you and took her leave. Yoongi was still book shopping so you got up to grab the cups of tea. You grabbed them and walked over to the bookcase. “Here,” you handed him one of the cups.

“Thanks.”

You walked past him and towards the back of the office. “Do you play?”

Yoongi looked over to where you were gesturing. “Yeah. I play the harpsichord pretty well. The Lyre, it’s more tricky.”

“I’d like to hear you sometime,” you commented as you walked back towards the fireplace.

“Well you know, I might not actually be good. I don’t think I’ve ever had an audience.” he stated modestly.

“Oh that’s true. You might be awful.” you teased. “You could play for me and I could let you know just how bad you are.”

He smiled shyly. “Maybe tomorrow. Give me a chance to practice.” And an excuse for you to stay another day.

“Hmm...I suppose I’ll allow it.” you raised your eyebrows and smirked. It was so easy for you to tease him and joke around with him. You forgot that he was a King and the Lord of the Underworld.

“You are too kind, m’lady” he joked back, feeling much more at ease now. “Did you want anything to read?”

“No thanks. But, if you have some blank paper, I wouldn’t mind drawing.”

“Oh? Sure.” Yoongi reached into one of the chests in the room and pulled out some parchment and charcoal. “Umm...do you need my desk?”

You sat down on the furs, “No, this is fine. Remember? Feral.”

He smiled and brought the supplies over to you. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.” He walked over to his desk and started to write, occasionally looking up at you. My stupid brother was right. Shit. NEXT CHAPTER

#yoongi x reader #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #suga x reader #bts au fanfic #bts suga x you #bts yoongi x reader

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pumpkinboo · 4 years ago

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Merman Zenitsu Agatsuma: General headcanons

He was born the last of the brood and the only one. All of his unborn siblings were eaten by sea monsters, while his eggs rolled away in a thicket of seaweed.

Until a certain time, he was forced to take care of himself on his own, which formed a nervous and anxious personality, as well as a strong fear of loneliness.

In survival, he was helped by his amazing hearing (more precisely, echolocation).

He is a mermaid of the "goldfish" type, which is distinguished by a bright golden tail and the same bright eyes. However, his appearance was not the most suitable — despite the Golden eyes and tail, his hair and scales (as well as ear fins) were dark, which is typical for Butterfly telescope.

He was very complex because of this and had problems with socialization among young mermaids.

Goldfish are considered very beautiful when properly developed. For example, they tend to be overweight (which is an indicator of good health and a good hunter, thereby increasing the chance of conceiving and raising offspring), their appearance is characterized by a bright color scheme (they look more flashy, which makes them more attractive). Skin color varies depending on the waters, but most of them are light (they are descended from Japanese goldfish breeds such as wakin, ranchu, and ryukin).

However, Zenits had traits of the two species, which made his appearance strange (in a negative sense).

He lived alone for the first few months of his life before being found by a migrating group of mermaids who took him in.

He had a credulity and naivety that some mermaids used when using him.

However, he was too attention-hungry and fearful to try to fight back. The older mermaids weren't always there to protect him, so most of the time he was around his peers who didn't playfully tease him for his looks and character.

He would often come to the surface to observe the sky. Zenitsu had a strong desire to see the world beyond dangerous water.

Negative communication with his relatives strongly affected his self-esteem and attitude to others. He saw the trick and deception everywhere, but at the same time he was very needy for any praise and led.

Zenitsu often hides in seaweed. This came from childhood and is still the main escape tactic.

At a certain point, he met Jigoro (or Grandpa), who was one of the old mermaids who took him in as an apprentice. Grandpa was previously a fighter with monsters from the deep, but the time came (old age) and he stopped doing this, instead teaching the young. In addition to Zenitsu, the black mermaid Kaigaku was also trained.

One day while training, Zenitsu surfaced to watch the rain. Lightning struck near him.

In this way, his appearance became light and "natural" for his appearance. But he began to be terrified of lightning and thunderstorms, and whenever he felt ("heard") lightning nearby, he immediately swam away into the depths, but stopped, remembering the deep monsters, and hid in the seaweed.

He is not too happy about his training as a defender, because he considers himself too weak and useless, but tries his best not to disappoint Grandpa.

Kaigaku is annoyed by Zenitsu's weakness, but tries to help Him as an older student. They have no competition for the separation of status and there is a big difference, so Kaigaku doesn't feel too slighted.

But when Zenitsu cries and says that Kaigaku is so kind, after the older student takes care of him (for example, shares caught fish), Kaigaku says that he will hit him.

Zenitsu likes to swim up to ground buildings. He never gets too close for fear of ground monsters, but amazing places attract him and cause awe.

He doesn't live with Grandpa all the time. A group of mermaids lives in the depths, where it is too cold for Zenitsu and the risk of monsters is too high, so he (like all mermaids at risk) prefers to live in a higher area.

Zenitsu has great agility and is a very good earner. His diet consists mainly of small fish (since it is small in size, although very voracious, and prefers to be in warm water, where large animals rarely swim), crustaceans and algae.

He's terrified of monsters. He can't imagine his struggle with them. But at the same time, he is afraid of losing the trust of all the people dear to him. This is an additional source of stress for him.

Likes to collect beautiful things! Most often, he finds them near the shelters of land monsters, which he only swims to deep in the night to try to find new treasures. But sometimes the treasures come to him with the flow.

His favorite are the "golden flat things" that he likes to play with!

Golden scales that shimmer in the sun in different colors are also a very beautiful object for Zenitsu. He considers it the most beautiful part of his appearance and is very proud of it. The scales would also be part of his "marriage gift".

Zenitsu prepares the "marriage gift" very carefully. Even though he has yet to find a single mermaid to Woo, he thinks that a beautiful marriage gift will surely pay for his appearance. At least, he hopes so...

He will try to be a good parent, even his partner will prefer not to deal with him and will leave after the eggs are born. He won't let his babies be eaten! They will create a big strong family where everyone will feel loved!

Due to the long stay on the sand, his tail has acquired a more "earthy" shade, which he is in no hurry to get rid of, as the new coloring makes Zenitsu less visible.

Zenitsu likes to climb on warm rocks and bask on them. Sometimes he couldn't help but begin to doze off on them. Then he often gets burned, especially if he went to bed at noon.

He likes to listen to ground monsters. He doesn't understand what they are talking about, but their speech seems very interesting to him.

Mermaids talk to each other at frequencies that the human ear can't hear. This makes it easier for them to interact with aquatic animals and with each other.

Zenitsu loves animals! They seem beautiful to him, but frightening. He especially likes jellyfish, despite the fact that if you touch the glowing ones, then after them the skin hurts a little.

Zenitsu's body only has one scar on hts back. He doesn't like to talk about it.

Zenitsu once found a comb that the current brought him, and now he really likes to comb his hair.

When he feels tired, he lies down on the sand and looks through the water at the sky. He likes the way the image of the sky is refracted.

He would like to be able to fly like flying animals. What hides behind the other seas? What does the earth hide? How different is the life of the monsters that walk the earth from his life?

Sometimes he wonders if he will one day find out the answers to his questions?

#kimetsu no yaiba #zenitsu agatsuma #merman #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba zenitsu #stuffie.time to relax #sfw #agatsuma zenitsu #kimetsu no yaiba au

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x-reader-theater · 5 years ago

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Take a Chance, for the Nights are Short {2}

Relationship: Geralt of Rivia X Male!Reader

Summary: There’s something to be said about talking with your travel mates. Too bad Geralt isn’t saying much.

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 1,109 words

A/N: Hey there again! So I decided that I would upload all these one day after another because a. there’s little to no Geralt x Male!Reader fics out there and b. I know I’m going to forget to upload them after a few weeks, so I’m just doing it now. The second story is underway, and it won’t come out the day after the fourth chapter of this comes out (that’s how many chapters there are), and maybe not even a week but I really like this series and I have so many ideas for this, hopefully, trilogy. Please like, reblog, and let me know what you thought! Now, without further ado, Take a Chance, for the Nights are Short; Chapter 2.

Chapter: [1] [2] [3] [4]

Chapter 2: Rivia's too Nice for the Likes of You

You're walking through the woods with your new Witcher friend. Well, friend isn't the right word. Forced acquaintance is more apt for your current situation.

"What's your name, anyways?" You turn to your traveling companion, who is riding beside you on his horse.

"Geralt. Of Rivia," he grumbles out. He was friendlier a few hours ago, when he didn't realize the Jeweled lake was further than he thought. You on the other hand had taken his playful persona and donned it as your own.

"Are you even from Rivia? Because I am, and you don't seem like the kind of person who would be from there," you explain, all but forgetting about your fear of the man. He looks over at you and frowns. "I mean you're so… well, you're so mean! I've never known anyone from Rivia to be this mean!" He goes to open his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him. "But I mean, I've also read that Witchers would choose a name, to seem more trusting to those they came across. Did you choose that name, Geralt of Rivia? Or are you actually from there? You know I read-"

"You read a lot for a would be knight," Geralt growls out in frustration. "Maybe you should become a librarian instead."

"Yeah well, you see, I tried that-" you lean over on your horse so you're closer towards him as you whisper, "That's where I read all the books-" you lean back so you're sitting upright in your horse once again, "And After I read every book in the library I got bored and wanted to do something exciting. I read a book from a poet while I was working in the library about knights and being a knight and I thought, 'how amazing would it be to become a knight and go on all these quests,' so I took the Knight's test and here I am!" You throw your arms out wide and grin at Geralt from underneath your helmet. You know he can't see it, but he'll hear it in your voice. "Well, I didn't just take it once, I took it about 500 times. Well, 497 to be precise. Every single day for almost two years."

Geralt has his eyebrows raised again. "You've taken the Knight's test 500-"

"-497-"

"-times and they still let you in?"

You stutter over your words, "Well-well not exactly. I'm still not in." You squint your eyes and say, determined, "But I'm going to slay this monster, and the queen will have to let me become a knight! She said so herself!"

Geralt chuckles. You move your horse so you're riding right next to Geralt, and you lean over, sticking out your left hand to shake. You have to reach all the way across Jennis, and your body is twisted in such a way you can feel your plate armour digging into your side. "I never introduced myself. I'm Sir [Y/N]. Well, not sir yet-" Geralt shakes your hand. "But I will be soon!" You pull your hand back and turn to face the road once again.

It's silent for a moment. You don't like silence.

"So, is it true Witchers can do magic?"

Geralt chuckles at you and he clicks his tongue and his horse speeds up, cantering away from you.

"Hey! Wait!" Your heels clink on the side of your horse, and you go to catch up with him.

The Jeweled Lake is about as beautiful as you thought it would be, which is to say, not beautiful at all. Maybe when it was first named it was beautiful, but you don't know how this algae-covered, glorified pond could ever be considered beautiful. You look up at the sun and see it setting, and turn to face towards the setting sun.

"We should camp here. It'll be easier to fight during the day," Geralt says and you nod.

"Good idea. I'm tired anyways." You slide off Jennis, the clink of your armour as you hit the ground is the only sound in the entire valley. You shiver at that. You hate the silence.

You unhook your bedroll from your horse and lay it out as Geralt starts building a fire. You take out a few pieces of dried and salted meat from your pack and hand one to the Witcher in front of you. When he doesn't take it, doesn't even look at it, you push it further for him. "Take it. You need to eat." He grunts and grabs the meat, placing it between his teeth. "I killed that myself you know."

He looks up at you for a moment before going back to work. "Since when were you a hunter?" Geralt asks through a teethful of dried meat.

You stuff the meat into your mouth and start peeling out of your armour. Your sword and sheath clatter to the ground first. "That was before-" Chew, "the librarian." Chew, "And then before that-" Chew, "was the jailer. That only lasted a day." Chew, "And before that, I was a Tanner's apprentice. He got hanged though after a week of me working there." Chew, "And before that-" Swallow, "I think it was a shoemaker? I'm not entirely sure. It kind of all blurs together before the Tanner." Your last piece of armour falls to the ground with a soft clunk, and you look up at Geralt who's got a heavy eyebrow raised. You take off your helmet and drop it onto the ground unceremoniously. Your chainmail is next, and at long last you finally take off your silken shirt and fold it neatly, placing it on the haphazard pile, like a cherry on top of a shit pile.

"That's a lot of armour for someone who's not a knight," Geralt says, sitting back on the ground in front of the fire.

You shrug and join him, sitting on your bedroll instead of the soft ground."I made quite a bit of coin when I was working as a Tanner. There were a lot of people who needed leather for their goods, and I didn't really have a place to live, so I never needed to pay anyone for living." You run your fingers through your hair and shake your head. "I'll need to cut my hair soon…" you mumble to yourself.

Geralt mutters to himself too, but you can't quite hear him. You lay down on your bedroll, letting the crackling sound of the fire lull you to sleep. "

"Good night, Geralt of the Witchers…" You have no idea if Geralt heard you.

#the witcher #witcher #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt #geralt x reader #geralt x male reader #male reader #geralt of rivia x male reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x male!reader #geralt of rivia x you #my work #My writing #geralt of the witchers

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yourdeepestfathoms · 5 years ago

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Cast in a Chasm

Sequel to this fic

Word count: 3895

———————

Aragon dreamt of blood and crying and broken eggs. Her eyes eventually snapping open was both a relief and a thrill because she was out of that terror, but also because the human was awake. It— SHE was huddled in between her front talons and staring at her with wide, glossy eyes- poor scaleless thing didn’t even have second eyelids to see clearly in the water! How were they not extinct yet?

“Hello there,” Aragon said, nudging Orca in the chest with her snout.

Orca made a pitiful noise of fright and then jolted away. Aragon jumped to her feet immediately.

“Wait!”

She pounced, managing to trap Orca under her front talons. The human yelps, its yellow fur billowing around its head.

“No running.” Aragon said sternly, as if she were talking to a pet tortoise she’s once seen a Leviathan have. “Bad.”

Orca blinked up at her.

Humans must not be able to understand Leviathans, but that made sense. Aragon wasn’t sure how she was going to communicate with Orca.

She took a small step back and Orca flailed awkwardly as she began to float. Her limbs didn’t move in the right way to swim at all! Funny little thing.

Aragon looked around her room as Orca continued to drift upwards. She found a long rope of gelatin hanging from one of the hooks and picked it up. She tied it tightly around her chest and then handed the other end to Orca, who blinked at her. She points at the knot she tied and Orca seemed to understand after a moment because she began tying her piece around her chest.

“Good girl!” Aragon said, patting Orca’s head. Pride swelled within her. Her human was so smart!

Orca blinked at her curiously again. She pulled herself down the length of the rope and then stopped a few feet away when she got close enough to Aragon, anxious. Aragon held out one talon and, after a moment of hesitation, she latched onto it.

“My name is Aragon of the Seahorses,” Aragon said.

“Seahorses,” The human repeated.

Aragon perked up. “You understand me!”

“Smeeg smog smockeefee,” Orca chattered.

“Well, I’m not sure what ‘smockeefee’ means, but I’ll keep note of that.” Aragon said. She tilted her head at the human in her talon. “So you don’t speak Levia?”

“Mrrrrowrr,” Orca said, along with several other chittering noises.

“Definitely not.” Aragon reached up and set Orca on her head. “Stay up here, okay?” She can feel Orca’s tiny paws grasp tightly to her horns. She paddled over to the terrace and got a grand view of the kingdom below her tower, which was glowing in brilliant shades of blue and green and purple and pink. The hatching ceremony was already being set up, although Aragon wasn’t surprised. That was very in character for Seymour, who always wanted to be on top of things.

Orca yelped and gripped her horn tighter when she suddenly plunged off of the balcony and began gliding down to the city. She cants her wings and spiraled around the grand crystal palace until she reached the front gateway. Seymour wasn’t at her throne when she peeked in, but she did see Howard sitting beside it, for once not glued to the queen’s side.

“Where is Seymour?” Aragon asked the pup.

“In the royal hatchery,” Howard answered. “She doesn’t want anyone bothering her right now.”

Aragon looked her up and down. She wondered if Howard was jealous at all, since she was just a ward, not the queen’s actual daughter. Or maybe she was excited to get a little sibling- she couldn’t tell.

Howard fiddled with her tail before looking up. Her rose pink eyes widened.

“Is that the human?” She said.

Aragon reached up one talon to her head and felt Orca pat a claw with one of her tiny paws. She was still there.

“It is,” Aragon said. “Her name is Orca.”

“Oooo,” Howard murmured in awe. “That’s a pretty name!”

Aragon smiled proudly and was actually about to offer Howard a chance to hold the human, but then she heard a voice call out to her.

“SEAHORSE!!”

“Not again...”

Boleyn swam up to her in a whoosh, causing the water around them to spiral and twist wildly before simmering back into calmness. Cleves came with her, this time, but she crossed over in much more gentle strokes, making sure her tentacles didn’t hit any of the ancient architecture in the throne room.

“It appears you have a little monster tied to you,” Cleves observed, eyeing the harness connecting Aragon to Orca.

“It keeps her from drifting off,” Aragon informed. “This is Orca.”

“Hi, Orca!” Boleyn hovered over Aragon, waving to the human, who blinked up at her with big grey eyes before slowly raising a paw to wave back. “She’s so cute!”

“Isn’t she?” Aragon smiled, that feeling of pride swelling within her once again.

“Are you going to bring her to the celebration tonight?” Cleves asked.

“Of course.” Aragon replied. “I can’t leave her anywhere else.”

“Beemish rrrpl zob!” Orca announced.

“Oh! Oh.” Cleves tilted her head. “She doesn’t speak Levia. Why am I surprised?”

“What is a ‘beemish’?” Boleyn wondered out loud.

“No clue,” Aragon admitted. “But I’m sure I’ll learn eventually. Or she’ll learn Levia.” She looked around again, despite knowing she wouldn’t see Seymour. “Well. I’ve got to go get ready. An advisor has to look nice for this.”

Boleyn and Cleves waved as she swam through one of the branching hallways and went back up to her tower. She united herself from Orca for the time being and let the human hang onto a shelf of antique decorations.

“There’s a party today,” Aragon told her. “For the queen’s pup. They’re hatching.”

Orca blinked at her, then squinted her grey eyes. Aragon remembered that she probably couldn’t see clearly at all. It must have been uncomfortable.

Aragon looked around, then paddled over to one of her chests. She dug through it until she found a small block of sea glass. She pulled it out and heated it up at the stream of warm bubbles shooting out of the floor in one of the corners until it was soft enough to carve away with her claws. Orca watched her curiously as she formed the glass into a spectacle-like shape with closed sides that wouldn’t let water pour in. She softened the edges with clumps of algae and then strung a piece of stretchy kelp through either side. When she was finished, she handed the goggles to Orca, who turned them over curiously and then put them on. She gawked at Aragon through the glass eyes, seeing her clearly for the first time.

“Hello,” Aragon grinned. “Are they okay?” She points to the goggles and Orca nodded.

After she had her human seeing properly, she swung around to a tree carved from dark brown mahogany, which was where she kept all her jewelry. She brushed through the strands of jewels, picking up a few to hold to her scales and see which went best with her burnished color scheme. It was always hard to tell- did she want blues and greens to try and match the other Leviathans or did she want to go with warmer shades like oranges and reds?

She feels a small touch on her shoulder- Orca has swam over to her and pulls herself in front of her. She clung to one of the tree branches and squinted through the goggles at the string of rubies in Aragon’s left talon. She shook her head disapprovingly.

“No?”

“Eeemego noomobleck rubieooo,” Orca lectured her.

Aragon blinked. Orca sprung off of the branch and snatched the rubies from Aragon’s talon. She sank almost instantly, finding the jewels much heavier than she had even expecting, but she kicked her little legs and managed to hook it onto a mahogany limb. Then, she clambered up the side of the tree, observing the jewelry thoroughly before heaving off a moonstone necklace. She made a series of loud squeaks and pointed at Aragon’s right talon until she held it up. She brought the black gemstones to the golden scales, analyzed the color mix, then nodded. She set the necklace on Aragon’s talon.

“You’re good at this, huh?” Aragon smiled, winding the moonstones around her neck.

“Good?” Orca echoed in Levia. Aragon must have said it enough in the short span of time she’s been awake to have caught on on what it meant.

“Yes! Good!” Aragon said excitedly. She ruffled the fur on Orca’s head affectionately. “So smart!”

“Good,” Orca repeated proudly. She lugged a strand of emeralds into Aragon’s talon, pointed at it, and said, “Good. Noo gobbish!”

“Well, good thing I wasn’t planning on being a gobbish.” Aragon said. “Whatever that is.” She put on the shimmering green gemstones. As she does so, Orca swam to the very top of the tree, where necklaces turned to armbands and tailbands and earrings and other fancy jewelry she got because of her advisor status. She seemed to be momentarily dazzled by all the accessories before getting back on track and grabbing some matching emerald earrings, which she’s actually able to pick up easily.

“As you wish,” Aragon said as she clipped them on. “Anything else?” She gestured to the tree so Orca would know what she meant. But Orca shook her head and swam over to her shoulder to hang onto. “Very well.”

Aragon waded over to the mirror and pivoted around slowly a few times before nodding. The black and green really did highlight her golden scales.

“Good job, Orca,” Aragon praised the human. She was about to take off down to the courtyard to meet up with Cleves and Boleyn, but then she was stopped by a smaller strand of moonstones hanging on a thin branch of her jewelry tree. It was too small for an adult Leviathan, but it would fit Orca, so she plucked it up and gently wove it around her neck and shoulders.

“Perfect.” She smiled.

“Hubblesnubble.” Orca agreed.

Aragon laughed, quickly tied Orca to her again, and then set off to the ceremony.

—

The city was glowing in dazzling hues of purple and pink, green and blue, yellow and orange. The light from the bioluminescent paste and fire trapped in sea glass orbs gleamed against the crystal buildings and domes, setting them off in radiants of rainbow. Aragon hoped all the light wouldn’t blind Orca.

After sweeping past the band of Leviathans playing the queen’s favorite instruments, she found Cleves and Boleyn at a buffet table loaded with fried lobster and minced tuna and pickled shark, chatting away. Cleves was simply wearing some silver wires that wound around her thick, but short horns and circled her forehead and dark topaz wristbands, while Boleyn had strands of pearls hanging from her neck and a winding tailband on the top of her tail that was designed to look like a snake.

“There she is!” Boleyn cried when Aragon lands before them. “And you brought Orca! Hi, Orca!”

“Yeemo!” Orca waved from where she was situated on Aragon’s head.

“Haha! Yeemo to you, too!” Boleyn said enthusiastically.

“So,” Cleves began, rising out of her sitting position, which always looked so odd because of her tentacles. “What first?”

After a moment of consideration, the three of them (well, four, because Orca gave a helpful, “Zim!” in the process) decided to just swim through the festivities and see what they could find to entertain them until the hatching ceremony.

They sailed past grand glass statues and pups playing with each other and Leviathans dancing aquatic dances until they came to a quiet game pavilion. It was dressed up in fire-lit beads of amethyst and lime and azure and gold, which were braided across the underwater oceanic trees. Swathes of specially-sewn aquatic silk curtains billowed around the outside of the area, shielding it from the cold ocean currents and muffling the noise from the rest of the festival. And there, an elegantly long, but short Leviathan sat alone.

Her scales were a deep indigo color so dark they almost looked black, but there were a few markings that faded to purple in some areas. She had a prehensile tail that she was using to hang onto a piece of coral and four strange segmented wings, almost like a dragonfly. She was playing a game by herself that involved small marble pieces into increasingly complex towers. As far as lame solitary party games went, it was kind of at the top, frankly.

“Heeeey, Nautilus!”

Ice blue eyes, a bright contrast to her dark scales, glanced up at the ground as they landed. A scowl formed on her snout.

“I told you not to call me that,” Blount of the Nautiluses grumbled. “What do you want? And what is THAT?” She peered up at Orca.

“You looked lonely,” Cleves said.

“And this is Orca,” Aragon added.

“A human. Down here.” Blount said. “Wow.” She tipped her head back down to her game, but glanced up momentarily when Orca swam down from Aragon’s head. “Don’t let that thing anywhere near me.”

“Awww, don’t be like that!” Boleyn said. “She won’t hurt you!”

“I beg to differ,” Blount growled, climbing further up the piece of coral to create a distance between her and the human. “Is it your pet or something?”

“Sorta?” Aragon said, watching Orca pull herself onto one of the branches of coral, much to Blount’s dismay. “Orca, this is Blount.” Then, to Blount, “Be nice.”

Blount grumbled something and tried to resume her game. Aragon had no idea how she could always be so angry all the time. It must get exhausting.

“Oh! Oh!” Boleyn suddenly perked up. “Let’s go to the shipwreck!”

“That’s a good idea,” Aragon mused. “Orca can get air there. I’ll also have to give her a new scale.”

And so, it was settled. The four of them, including Blount because she got dragged along, swam off to the large shipwreck on the outskirts of the city.

It was a cargo ship, the break bulk kind, now submerged in the loose sand of a large, empty plateau at the bottom of a cliff face. Strangely, it had air pockets in various areas, which they weaved their way to after entering through a large gash in the metal exterior.

The area they popped their heads into opens out to a large, gently sloped storage room, illuminated by coral. There’s an open central room, with support beams forming shelves on either side. Toward the back, the floor and the shelves extend out into an air pocket. The whole floor here has been covered with a layer of rocks and sand over time.

Orca looks at the dry area with longing. Aragon unties her and she immediately begins to climb the slope eagerly. After a moment, however, she falls to the ground coughing, gasping, spitting out water. The sounds echo against the metallic hull and makes Aragon jolt in fear. She leapt out of the water, her wings slapping frantically against the surface, and thumped down onto the incline. The entire ship rocks and creaks with the sudden force.

“You bumbling whale!” Blount hissed. “Do you want this thing to come down on us?”

“Why is she doing that?” Aragon said in fright, ignoring Blount. Her talons hover Orca’s writhing form helplessly. “Is she okay?”

“She’s expelling the water she breathed in,” Cleves said, swimming over to the shallow area. “It’s normal. Don’t worry.”

At the same time, Orca gave Aragon a weak thumbs up and then returned coughing.

“Oh.” Aragon said in relief. “Thank the whales...”

It takes her a moment, but Orca is eventually back on her feet and has taken to energetically romping about the sand and gravel. When some of it drifts into her nose, she sneezes hard enough to knock herself backwards. She gave Aragon an indignant look.

“Well, stop putting sand in your nose, then.” Aragon suggested.

“Urrmgle,” Orca said before getting distracted by an adventurous crab and following after it until it disappears into a hole much too small for even her. She turns away, disappointed, but perks up quickly. “Blnnnt!!!”

The Leviathans blink at her weird squeaky exclamation, then Boleyn swung her head around to Blount.

“I think that means you.” She said.

“Awww,” Aragon cooed. “She knows your name!” She held out a talon and Orca rushed under it, nuzzling against her warm scales. “So smart!”

“How did THAT happen?” Blount exclaimed. She lashed her tail, splashing Cleves, who was settled in the shallows with her.

“I think it’s cute,” Cleves said helpfully.

“Why me?” Blount said woefully. “I don’t even like it!”

“Her.” Aragon corrected.

“Whatever.”

Blount bundled her four wings in close to herself as Orca steps into the water when she notices some small fish swimming around. She held still for a moment, jumped forward, and missed.

She whirled around, looking very confused and startled. Then, she tried again, missing even more than the first time. On the third try, she hauled her clumsy body all the way underwater and still managed to catch only sand.

Amused laughter swells through the group at the human’s attempts at catching a fish. It earns them an adorably annoyed look.

“Smurggle furgle,” Orca growled.

Eventually, Orca does manage to catch a fish, but it slips right through her claws. That couldn’t be fair!

“They’re slippery!” Aragon called from the bay.

Orca readied herself and dove again. She overestimated her speed and smashed her face directly into the sand below. She resurfaced with a sputter and then attacked again, snatching up a daring fish who got too close. Victory was short lived. The tail slapped her in the face and she dropped it. She makes a miserable noise and gives up, returning to the slope.

“We should get going,” Blount said, finally uncoiling herself. She stretched out her strange wings. “The egg will probably hatch soon.”

They all agreed. Aragon quickly gave Orca another scale to put in her mouth, and then they all set back off to the glowing city.

—

It was a boy.

The purple snout came out first, then the webbed talons, and finally the strange, butterfly-like wings opened and broke the rest of the egg. He tumbled out into the water, his gills flaring open instantly, and the audience of Leviathans gaped at how beautiful he was.

His scales are a clash of gem-like azure and shiny violet. His four wings, much too big for his tiny body, are shimmering purple and blue, as if they were sapphires and amethysts mixed together. Elegant magenta and lavender horns with royal purple tips and highlights rise from his head, and cobalt whiskers billow around his purple snout. His tail is shaped into a dolphin’s, just like his mother’s, who scoops him up into her talons.

Eddie of the Porpoises is the name that was declared. A string of pearls is laced around his long neck. He immediately put a few orbs into his mouth and made an adorable pup noise.

It absolutely sickens Aragon.

She left the ceremony without a word. Her wings beat furiously through the night tide as she tried to distance herself from all the joy and happiness and unfairness. Her mind kept replaying scenes over and over again— blood, eggshells, coldness against her palms. It all repeated nonstop.

Orca is chattering loudly on her head. She tugs at her horns and Aragon growled low in her throat. All the noise definitely isn’t helping her mounting anger. She doesn’t get a chance to snap at the human, though, because the chain net she swam right into quickly became her top priority.

Immediately, she began to struggle, but that just managed to ensnare her further. She growled in anger, lashing her tail and beating her wings furiously to no avail. The net began to rise up- she broke the surface.

It’s a ship. Smaller than the shipwreck, but definitely big, and it was filled with several chattering humans. They point to her and holler to one another in shock. She bared her teeth at them.

Arms reach down. Orca squeals. The gelatin rope connecting them is cut. Aragon roared when she realized they were taking her away.

Then, pain.

Blinding pain.

Blood burbles up Aragon’s throat. Her gills have been cut.

The pain consumed her as she began to choke.

Eggshells, fragments—

The net releases her. She began to sink. The boat speeds off as fast as it can.

Eggshells, twisted bone, tears—

Aragon sinks.

Twisted bone, bits and pieces, nothing left—

Above her, she can see the shimmering full moon high over the surface. She reaches her webbed talons up towards it. Red and black clouds of blood billow around her.

Nothing left to mourn—

She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, she thought she could see her pups staring back down at her from the endless starry sky stretched over the ocean. Sassy Siren, little Starfish, mama’s girl Sandbar, rambunctious Undertow, bookworm Pearl, and Turtle, the king of giggles.

Eggshells, blood, the limp body of pup in one talon, the broken neck of another in the other—

They were taken from her.

And now, her one last chance at motherhood was being ripped from her again.

Aragon clenched her claws.

Blood, eggshells, her poor, helpless, dead—

No.

Not again.

Aragon took a deep breath, the water stinging in her ripped gills, then slammed her wings downward. She jetted upwards in a flurry of crimson bubbles, swimming faster and faster until she breaches the surface with a tremendous, earth-shaking roar.

The ship didn’t get far. And it was no match for a furious mother Leviathan.

Aragon crashes into the side of it with all her might. It rocks, and some humans go flying off of it, but she can hardly care. She climbs up onto the deck, screeching in anger. She swung her tail around, knocking off two more sailors, then gouged her claws into one that held a pathetic excuse for a weapon. He squirms beneath her huge talon while she snaps her jaws down on a second attacker. He struggles, too, but then she bites down and devours him whole.

Humans taste awful. Much too fatty and oily.

Aragon spots Orca with what must be the captain, or at least someone important. He has her by the necklace, choking her, and was glaring at Aragon. He yells something, but she wouldn’t care even if she could understand. He was no match for her.

Aragon sprang forward, crushing a human male into a puddle of bones and blood and organs, and closed her razor sharp teeth around the man seizing Orca. She grinds her fangs until the bottom half sticking out falls off, then swallowed the rest.

The boat begins to break, so Aragon takes Orca and flees. The water soothes her gills as she swam back to her tower and unceremoniously tumbled inside, laying on the smooth floor in a puddle of scaly limbs. Orca had been jarred free from her grasp when she fell, and she clung to one of her talons to keep from floating away. Then, she leaned forward and bumped her nose with Aragon’s.

It was as if she were saying, “I’m safe now. Safe with you.”

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #six fanfic #six the musical au #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #joan on the keys #bessie on the bass #katherine howard #jane seymour #edward vi of england #six the kids

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