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dragongirlpoet · 2 months ago

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Dark Signs 3

Summary: As Alucard grapples with his grief over what he has done, secrets are unveiled and graver foes awaken. Is it too late to save you? (Plot takes off months before *that ending* in part 2. Some parts are off-canon.)

This chapter is written in Alucard’s POV.

Themes: Dark fantasy, horror, romance, angst I Words: 4k

Warnings: MDNI. Horror, blood, gore, violence, religious themes, mentions of suicide, grief, depression, anxiety, slight smut

Pt 1 I Pt 2

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To the lovely folks who are holding out for part 3, thank you! 💛 Sorry I couldn’t put this out sooner.

@s-i-l-v-e @kawaiiskeletoneggsnerd @celly-fahrenheit @skychaser777

I tasted blood, cherry and salt.

And I wanted more, more, more.

We were tangled in each other, our bodies suspended in the cosmic cerulean of the deep ocean.

She was my salvation. Her kiss was my atonement. And her blood, oh her blood…it was a gift so heavenly. All my immortal life had desired only that very thing, and now that I had it, I couldn’t let go.

Every shred of my primordial essence — powerful yet cursed, now entombed in the marrows of her soul. My blood now flowed in hers, as her blood, mine. We were fused as one, we were divine.

My darling’s fingers traced the sharps of my jaw as she kissed me, our married blood spilling from her mouth, diluting the water. They formed red rivulets around us, as if in symbolic reverence that we were the almighty givers of ichor.

We were safe, entwined together in eternal damnation.

I love her. I love her so deeply that I’d doomed her with my blood curse, so I could have her by my side till the sun swallowed us whole. And for that, I’d forever fester in my blasphemous sin.

“Adrian…” she seemed to say, but the snare of the ocean strangled her words, slowed our every caress… as if time at all wanted to still for our undying love.

Oh what I would give to hear her voice — seraphic, like a birdsong, my name chaste upon her lips.

Her ivory chemise clung to her body like sculpted granite, her nipples just peeking through. They were for my eyes only. Yes…her being, her blood, her body…they all belonged to me.

But in that sacred moment, something felt…amiss. There were those jade-green veins, palpable under her eyes… they ran like fine cracks on marble, so like those on a delicately-carved statue.

Raven hair hovered around her tiny frame, resembling venomous serpents held buoyant by witchcraft. They were so in contrast to my gold, like the exact moment dusk bled into dawn.

There was the red rivulet again, this time saturating the white ribbons of her nightdress. They coiled around my arms, binding me to her. Not that I’d ever let go.

But I had to, for her lingering touch was frost impaling even my vampiric skin. Why was she so cold?

“Adrian…” again she seemed to call out.

Her eyes, despite being underwater, were wide open, the blacks of them bereft of the soul I once knew. She was pale. So pale. And she looked every bit the angel of death.

My angel…when did she slip from my arms?

Our fingers entwined one last time, before a sombre gloom dragged her under. Slowly she sank, like a fallen star ousted by the heavens, syphoned of its light.

But I’m right here, darling. Stay.

I willed all of my immortal power to reach for her outstretched hands, but my body was deadened, as if held prisoner by spirit shackles. Further and further she sank from me, and I so terribly wanted to tell her that wasn’t where she was supposed to go.

Words evaded me, as my tears had.

The hollow abyss seemed to rise up — impatient, almost — to receive its new sacrifice.

Blood gushed from her mouth — they were viscid, as if so thickened they had to be forced out or she would choke. The blood kept coming. They streamed out of the sockets of her eyes, running like bloody tears of the living dead.

They say that monsters like us lack the ability to fear, yet I’d never felt more afraid than I did then. The love of my life, drowning, dying, yet I could do wholly nothing. Alucard, son of Dracula — weak, worthless…

A fissure cracked her chest open, the cavity creeping wide to reveal her beating heart. Her human heart.

The blood kept coming.

“Come back to me…” I begged, the futility of it sickening me.

Still, she descended. I watched in horror as the godless ocean buried her in its oblivion, until all I was made to see was the compunction of my sins.

On her neck that I used to so lavish with kisses, lay the wounds only a wretch like me could inflict.

I did it. I killed her.

“Adrian…”

____________

I jolted awake.

A numbing despair perforated my insides, a feeling I knew all too well. I stared out the window through heavy eyelids, the red moon magnified by sweat teardrops trickling through my eyelashes.

For a long moment I just sat there, my lungs crushed by torment, my heart shattered by grief. I’d lost count of the nightmares that had plagued me over the decade…no, it’s been 96 years, Adrian. A century. A century she’s been gone.

What was I living for?

Memories I longed to forget writhed their way into my mind, forcing me to once again relive the hell that fateful night.

I had sat in the castle hall for days, her lifeless body cradled in my arms. My eyes burned from tears, and I wanted to die. I fed her so much of my blood, my immortal blood, still she slept. I summoned spirits, conjured the most powerful of magicks, still, she slept. My hope hanging by a thread, I fused my father’s sciences with my mother’s elixirs…still, she slept.

I was about to drive my own sword into my heart — the only one ensorcelled enough to kill a dhampir, when a familiar voice stopped my contemptible deed.

“Alucard! This place reeks of death, and here I thought we’d gotten rid of your father long ago.”

“Stop it, Belmont!”

“What? He may be pristine but his home sure isn’t. Alucard! Honey, we’re home!”

“Will you stop yelling?”

“Alucard’s probably busy shoving it in her, ha. I need to make sure he can hear me above their grunts and moans. Have you forgotten how loud you get, Sypha?”

“You’re disgusting, Belmont.”

“Alucard! Ah, there you are. In the hall, really? You two really are something. Do you have food? I’m starving. I…”

“Belmont.”

“Fine, fine. Beer is good as w…”

“Belmont!”

It took Belmont a long minute before he alas perceived what Sypha meant. My two dearest friends — immobile in silent trepidation, distress distinct on their faces.

“What happened, Alucard? Was she attacked?” Sypha was the first to speak. As always, her presence seemed to bring solace, but it dissipated promptly.

“I killed her, Sy…Sypha. She asked mmme… to…tto turn her, and I…I drank too much…I killed her.”

Mere speaking incinerated my throat, and it was then I’d realised I hadn’t stopped crying. I could scarce breathe through my wheezing, let alone enunciate words.

“I…I tried ever…rything, help me please…ppplease…save her please…”

Belmont, in a rare display of empathy, knelt beside us and took my hand in his. “We will find a way to save her, and we will not stop until we do. I promise.”

At his oath, I collapsed into Belmont’s arms. Anguish, shame, relief…they all coursed through my body — my face buried in his shoulders, weeping. Every emotion that I’d held in, all unfettered at the fact that I had someone, that I wasn’t alone to fight my battles.

“Fault yourself not, Alucard. She never would’ve blamed you.” Sypha’s voice was soft, soothing, enveloping us in a reassuring embrace. I fell apart completely.

A loud pounding at the doors disturbed our bittersweet reunion, arousing our every alarm. There seemed to be a clamour of sorts — yelling, mocking…definitely humans. Belmont took to receive the unusual affair, leaving a gap just wide enough to acknowledge a throng of men — bishops, priests and followers of the church.

“I don’t remember ever calling for your conceited services, Father.” Belmont sneered.

“It’s Father Caine to you, and I could hardly expect couth coming from especially you. Excommunicated and still, never learning the error of your ways…

I sense a great evil here…more so than I daresay…Dracula himself. Forgive our ruckus, for we, the good men, merely wish to rid the town of all that is malign…Hand the girl over, and all shall be well.”

Sypha and I exchanged uneasy looks. What was he talking about?

Belmont, entirely irked by the bishop’s pretentious drivel, was barely holding it in. “Take your horseshit hubris and shove it up your a…”

“Oh, but don’t you want to know why we want the girl? Not the speaker-magician…the dhampir’s lover.”

What?

The dastardly bishop, words of scorn and malice, continued, “She now has the blood curse of the dhampir, and something in that transformation awoke creatures of the night…dark, hateful creatures…ones that possess an ancient evil…It is easy. We exorcise and burn her body, and as I’ve said…all shall be well.”

Blood searing in my veins, I raced past Belmont, the parasite parish’s body dangling midair in my chokehold. Eyes bloodshot and fangs hungry, I crushed his throat harder. He let out pathetic struggles of breath, rosary still firmly clasped in his hand.

“Where is your God now, Father? If we are the impurity you so seek to vanquish, then what of the innocents you slaughtered unrepentently, all because they did not fit your cause?”

I thought of my mother, the Belmonts, the heathens who simply held their own beliefs…and most of all, I thought of my sweet angel, so kind and full of love…

“What the…” Belmont cursed when we were doused with buckets of Holy Water. The “Men of God” started chanting prayers, as if their contrived communion would somehow free their pious leader.

I let out a laugh.

“The absolute gall you have, Father. Despite my mourning, I shall grant you this last mercy. Command your men to leave and never again return, and I shall kill only you. Fail to do so, and I’ll rip the tendons from all your wicked hearts. After all, I am a monster, am I not?”

A few men flinched at my words, casting hesitant glances to the others, while some implored Father Caine to choose wisely. Such cowards.

The bishop shifted a little in my grip, a faint smirk splayed across his face. “M…ark my words, vampire. Dark times ar…are ahead…The girl must di…”

I tore his heart right out of his ribs.

He was right. I was a vampire. I was omni-sentient. I was a monster and a God all at the same time. The farcical impudence he had to order the execution of my beloved…Anyone who touches her will die.

With his blood on my hands, I felt my hunger creep in once again, ripping off the human mask I wore like a virtue. I needed to feed.

It wasn’t until Belmont started swinging his Morningstar than I realised the tumult that had ensued. “And God shits in my dinner once again…Alucard! Left!”

Veins palpitating from the heart I’d just consumed, I saw that the rest of the church, quite possibly under the predetermined order of the bishop, lit a pyre that massacred the foliage we used to read under, devoured the quince fruit trees we so loved to frolic around.

They will all die.

“Get back!” Sypha cried, mutating the fire into swirls that wavered to her bidding. She channelled them towards the men, trapping them in rings of flame. Out of nowhere, fire arrows flew in our direction, narrowly missing Sypha’s face. That was enough to send Belmont into a scalding rage.

His Morningstar cleaved through half of the men, dismembering some, dissecting others. My estoc weaved through throats and hearts, beheading some, mutilating others. The tragic irony of it all — the very men whose sole mission was to protect mankind, to do good, on an aimless rampage to kill because of a misguided prophecy.

And so the fighting went on for months, years... Night creatures, more members of the parish, vampires seeking a new world order…valiant efforts, alas they were no more than vermins effortlessly exterminated by us three.

We weren’t certain why they had kept showing up. Whether it was a curse set off by my turning her, or the fact that they simply wanted us dead…it mattered not, nor did I make it my business to find out. I was going to kill them all.

Sypha and Belmont had kept to their promise. Come hell or high water, they stuck with me, even moving into the castle with their son. We battled foes, and never once did they abandon their cause to revive the love of my life.

“Alucard, you need to seal her. Keep her somewhere safe, where no one but you can find,” Sypha had one day told me. I was no fool, I’d known they wouldn’t be around forever, and if I’d succumbed to my grief, all their efforts would’ve been in vain.

“Promise me that when she wakes, you two will look after our kids, and grandkids, and great-grandkids, and…” Belmont trailed off, seemingly stumped by staple discourse.

“They’re called descendants, you idiot.” Sypha rolled her eyes.

Managing a genuine smile I haven’t had in a long while, I replied, “I promise.”

“My lord.”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to yet leave my reverie.

“My lord,” Centrio again addressed, this time with more urgency. There, bowing by the door, dressed in fine leather that I had gifted, stood the first human I’d turned after…her. I’d found him by the docks, and he was all but an emanciated vagrant on the brink of death. Perhaps it was the matyr in me, but I thought it more I had wanted to experiment…if he indeed turned, perhaps there was a way…

“The council is ready for you.”

Donning my guise of Imperious Vampire Overlord — terrifying, deadly, merciless — I made my way down to the great hall with my most loyal emissary. I clutched at the pendant around my neck — a vial forged with obsidian and laced with gold, encased with her blood. It was the only way I could feel her if she woke.

An excruciating sorrow once again took shape, like an enemy planting tiny splinters in my heart, except those splinters were tainted with the most malevolent of poisons, inching slowly to ravage my vital core.

“My lord,”

The council all greeted in unison, heads bowed in utter veneration. Men, women, young, old…I had sired them all. To have a contingency if I ever needed one, to delegate my task of finding a cure, to have some goddamn chatter in the forsaken castle…

“We’ve received word that the denomination led by Gwyth is storming in from the highlands of Brasov. They are…angered by the vampires you’ve sired. She thinks just because…”

“Just because what?”

The gathering fell silent, as if fearful to draw my ire. Good…that’s how I intended it to be.

“Tell me, Finnor, does your gallantry waver in my presence? If so, perhaps it was my oversight in appointing you General?”

“Forgive me, my lord. She thinks it’s a travesty that we, vampires a mere century old, are…” Finnor cleared his throat before continuing, “...exhausting all the human blood supply here in Braila. Some of our own have gone over to bordering cities, and they’re most displeased. She thinks that just because you’re… Dracula’s son, doesn’t give you the right…”

“Dracula’s son?” I scoffed.

“Did I not sire you all? If Dracula is my father, then does his blood not also run in your veins?

“Yes!” My council concurred in earnest.

Does that not make you powerful?”

“Yes!”

“Good! Then let them come. We will defend what is rightfully ours, will we not?”

“Yes!”

At that, they broke into a resounding cheer, half howling, the rest pounding staffs, swords and what have you on the marble floor. Contrary to the revelry below, I, worshipped like a God on my throne, felt wholly insentient. I cared not for war, nor truimphs, nor reign. If I’d created bloodthirsty monsters, it was merely a means to an end.

I wanted only one thing.

Was this how my father felt when my mother died?

“Kindly see to it, Centrio. I wish not to be bothered.”

“At your service, my lord.”

There she was — immaculate in white, clutching the garland of daffodils I’d made her, so detached from the pain I’d caused…I had all but little choice when I’d sealed her in the underground castle chambers. I had cast a spell so powerful, that save for the both of us, no one could enter, or find, our fortress in Wallachia.

Living in the castle without my friends, without her, seeing her lifeless body…it went on for months, years…I couldn’t bear it. Her lying there, bereft of a heartbeat, of a breath, broke me in ways I never knew existed.

And so I resolved to start over in Braila, it was the only way to keep her safe, it was the only way I could honour my vow to save her.

Cape dragging behind my lifeless steps, I trudged back to my study, thoughts once again lost in her. Innumerable letters I’d written, infinite words I wanted to say — all frozen and wayward like misplaced luminaries in an interstellar void.

What have I done, darling? I’ve created…abominations... so many innocent lives lost because of me…Will you still love me when you see what I’ve become?

“Adrian…”

I spun round, completely entranced by her voice.

In the doorway, against the crimson glow of the stained-glass window, wearing the white chemise just as she always had, awaited my beloved. It suddenly became daunting to breathe, my mind apprehensive to behold the sight.

“Darling? Is it really you?” I uttered, my words close to a tremble.

She said nothing, but merely moved to me with such litheness I was taken aback. Her steps were languid, like a lone willow swaying in a bleak winter tempest.

“H…how did you find me? You don’t look well, do you need to feed? Here,” I offered my bloodslit wrists to her. She pressed her lips to them at once, as though thoroughly acquainted with my gesture.

“I missed you so much, I…”

“Shhh…” she hushed, sinking to her knees.

Her hands made quick work of my trousers, and too soon had my entire length in her mouth. My cock twitched as her tongue lapped over the ridges of my growing erection, licking hurried circles around my tip.

“Fuck…baby…I missed you so fucking much…” I panted, pushing her face deeper between my thighs. “Ahhh…that feels so good…” and threw my head back, shutting my eyes, relishing in the absolute ecstasy of her eagerness.

Pumping my sex in rapid fervour, she took it further down her throat, sucking, constricting…the weight of my every burden reduced to an indistinct drone.

“Slow down, darling,”

“Yes, my lord…”

My eyes flew open. My lord?

From where I was, I alas saw it. The sable of her tresses ran an incomparable lustre to my darling’s raven. I flung the devil thrall into the windows at once, shattering the glass, red fragments giving way to golden gleams of the inconspicuous sun.

“How very dare you,” my voice dropping to a haunting hiss as I stalked towards her. “The audacity you possess to employ such pitious artifice…who sent you?”

The thrall quivered at my unrestrained wrath, straining to speak against the bleeding shards skewered in her throat.

“Y…you…did…m…my l..ord…”

I froze, the lunacy of my suffering clear as day. I must already be dead.

Refusing to bear the yoke of that truth, I instead directed all my shame and hurt at the dying vampire whom I’d sired.

“Why do you get to live, but she doesn’t? Why do all of you get to persist in endlessness, possess my blood gift, but she is doomed to sleep for all eternity? Why!”

All that remained was the anguished aftershock of my tirade, and the spurting of blood that had slivered their way to the soles of my boots.

“F…forrr…give me, mmy…lord…”

“I want you to listen closely. She transcends your every breath. You will never be her.”

I compelled my estoc to sever her head.

____________

I liked it out here. At times the ocean waves would susurrate, tonight it was a thunder against the cliffs. It offered a quiet respite from my heartbreak, the inane vampire politics, and the endless blood war of the undead.

My hair whipped in the frigid windstorm, yet I felt nothing. I was a lighthouse abandoned — hollow, crepuscular — fleeting through the years devoid of purpose. There were nights where I would see her in the middle of the violent sea — so alone, so tormented — does she know? I would cross oceans of time to find her.

Something snapped.

I remained still as death, my gaze shifting calculatedly to the untimely intruder foolish enough to trespass into my castle grounds. Their steps, though fairly distant and furtive, stood little chance against my heightened hearing.

The clanging of chains reached my ears long before my sword ensnared the metal. Holding it mere inches from my face, I studied the peculiar weapon — intricate weaving of iron, spikes flared at the tip…and that leather whip.

“Simon Belmont. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Save that garb for someone who gives a shit, vampire.”

I smirked at his salutation, perhaps a little more than necessary. “I see the Belmonts have a tradition.”

Unlike his forefathers, Simon had fallen out of favour with the Belmonts, insisting that vampires, regardless of their intent and relationship, are considered foe and should, at all costs, be exterminated with their bodies wrung out to dry.

“The odious horde you have sired are arrogant beyond their means. Do you not care for the turmoil they have caused? The innocent lives they have claimed?”

I no longer have the capacity to, I wanted to tell him.

“I come here not to befriend, or beg, or ask. Halt the atrocities of your vampires, or I shall finish what my grandfather so failed to do — kill you.”

“Are you threatening me, Belmont?”

Taking advantage of my affront, he wielded the Combat Cross — one I’d noticed too late — for it struck the pendant around my collar, barely missing my chest. I watched as the vial containing her blood fracture into pieces, her lifesource splattered and devoured by the earth below.

Seething, I lunged for Simon, teleporting behind him while coiling the Morningstar around his neck. He threshed around his imminent asphyxiation, blindly stabbing his dagger, attempting to find purchase on any of my organs.

The tip of his Morningstar however, managed to etch itself onto my arm, igniting an unsteady glow. It would not combust in me, for I was neither human nor demon. Still, a searing pain barelled through the recesses of my body.

I released Simon as he collapsed onto the ground, his chest heaving from the lack of air. Hovering my sword above his heart, I recalled the promise I had made to Belmont.

“This is a fight for another day, Belmont. Take your weapons and leave, for I have little forbearance for charity such as now.”

Flinging a shard of the Transmission Mirror next to Simon, he was pulled into its magic before he could contend. As the mirror engulfed him in its sorcery, he glared at me with such loathing I thought it incredulous I had loved his grandparents dearly.

But it was his last words ahead of being teleported that unnerved me, roused me back to the verity of that very moment — “I know what you’re searching for, Alucard.”

I stared at the spot where Simon was, now an insignificant mass of rocks, amongst them lay fragments of my obsidian vial.

An uncanny cold snaked about my heart. Clutching at it, the hammering intensified to a booming knell, in the same manner as nights where the parish would pound at my castle doors with boulders, clamouring to burn her. My breathing soon withered to a wheeze, then a gasp, and I fell to my knees.

Without the pendant, I could feel her no longer.

What if she woke? The indefinite dangers she would face outside the castle walls…Simon…what if he knew a way to find her…to kill her…

I was sickened with fear. Haste was of the essence, but the Transmission Mirror teleported at random — there was no telling where I would end up. Trembling, I raced to ready my stallion.

I was going back to Castlevania.

Pt 1 I Pt 2

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mywhisperingwords · 10 days ago

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still here | fred g. weasley

summary: an old friend starts showing up every time you need him word count: 5.6k masterlist

The corridors of St. Mungo’s were quieter than usual, but there was still a hum of urgency in the air.

Since the war had ended, the hospital had been inundated with patients—some still recovering from physical wounds, others battling the mental scars left behind. You’d been working there for weeks now, throwing yourself into the chaos as a way to avoid the memories.

The war was over.

That was what everyone said.

But it didn’t feel like it. Not to you.

You rubbed the back of your neck as you turned the corner, the exhaustion of the day dragging at your heels. Healing was rewarding, but it was unrelenting too. Your own grief, your own loss, had been shoved to the side so you could focus on fixing others. It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

The familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you turned toward the sound.

Fred Weasley was leaning casually against the wall, hands stuffed into his pockets, his hair messy but bright as ever. His smile stretched across his face like it always did, a bit crooked, a bit mischievous.

“Fred?” Your voice cracked, disbelief threading through it.

“In the flesh,” he said with a grin. “You weren’t expecting me, were you?”

You stared at him, your mind fumbling to piece together what was happening. He was here. Alive. Whole. Standing in front of you as though nothing had changed.

It had been too long since you’ve last seen him.

“I—no,” you said finally, your hand gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it hurt. “What are you… what are you doing here?”

“Visiting,” he said easily, jerking his chin toward one of the nearby rooms. “Someone needed cheering up, and you know me—I’m the best man for the job.”

You laughed, a soft, disbelieving sound. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“And you have,” Fred said, his eyes sweeping over you. There was something softer in his tone, something unspoken. “You look tired.”

“I’ve been busy,” you said, shrugging.

“I can see that,” he replied, the smile tugging at his lips dimming just slightly. “But don’t let it wear you down too much, alright? You’ve always been better at taking care of everyone else than yourself.”

You swallowed, his words hitting somewhere deeper than you wanted to admit. “It’s… good to see you.”

Fred grinned again, bright and wide. “Good to see you too, love. It’s been too long. Let’s change that, yeah? You know where to find me.”

Before you could respond, he gave you a wink and strolled away down the corridor, disappearing around the corner.

You stood there for a moment, frozen. It had felt so normal, so effortless. Just like before.

“Who were you talking to?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to see Elena, a fellow Healer, approaching with a curious look.

“Oh,” you said quickly, your pulse still racing. “Just… an old friend.”

Elena smiled, tilting her head. “Nice to see familiar faces, isn’t it? Especially after everything.”

You nodded faintly, but something about her tone didn’t sit right.

The exhaustion in her eyes was clear, and you felt it too. Sometimes it was hard to be kind to yourself when you put it all on another person.

“You should take a break, let me take over some of your patients,” you told her, a warm smile on your face.

Elena watched you closely, before shaking her head. “Don’t throw yourself into more work, you need to rest too.”

The rest of the day passed in a haze. You went through the motions, treating patients, mixing potions, and doing your best to avoid lingering too long on the morning’s encounter.

But the more you thought about it, the harder it became to focus. Seeing Fred again had felt like coming up for air after being underwater for too long. It had stirred something in you—hope, relief, a flicker of happiness you hadn’t felt in ages.

You sank into the couch the moment you walked through the door to your flat, kicking off your shoes with a groan. Another day of potions, poultices, and endless rounds of patients, each one a stark reminder of what had been lost in the war.

St. Mungo’s was a lifeline, sure. It gave you purpose. But it also drained you, leaving little room to process everything you’d been through.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, savoring the quiet.

The knock on your door startled you.

Frowning, you dragged yourself to your feet, wondering who it could be at this hour.

When you opened the door, Fred Weasley was standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets and that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“Fred?” you said, blinking at him. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t come find me,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your brows furrowed. “I’ve been busy.”

“And I’ve been bored,” he replied, throwing himself onto your couch like he owned the place. “What’s a bloke got to do to get a little attention around here?”

Despite yourself, you felt the corner of your mouth twitch. Fred had always been like this—effortless, larger than life. He had a way of making everything else fade into the background.

“I didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me,” you said, heading to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

“Well, someone’s got to,” he called after you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face.

A few minutes later, you brought two steaming mugs of tea into the living room, handing one to Fred before sitting down across from him.

He didn’t reach for the mug right away, instead leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His gaze was intent, but not unkind.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the question. Fred rarely veered into serious territory—he was the king of deflection, the master of keeping things light.

“I’m fine,” you said automatically.

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

You sighed, sinking back into the cushions. “What do you want me to say, Fred? That I’m tired? That I’m still trying to figure out how to keep going when it feels like everything’s fallen apart? Because I am. But what’s the point of talking about it? It doesn’t change anything.”

Fred leaned back, his expression softening. “Maybe not. But bottling it up doesn’t help either. Trust me.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away for a moment. “I hate seeing you like this. You used to light up every room you walked into, you know? Now it’s like… you’re barely there.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “I didn’t mean to make it heavy. I just… I miss you, that’s all.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a smile. “I miss you too.”

For the next hour, Fred did what he did best: distracting you. He told you ridiculous stories about the shop, about George’s questionable taste in merchandise and the chaotic customers who made running a joke shop anything but boring. He had you laughing until your sides hurt, the weight on your chest lifting just a little.

By the time he stood to leave, it was late, and you were feeling more at ease than you had in weeks.

“You should come by the shop sometime,” he said, pausing in the doorway.

“Maybe I will,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling in that way they always did. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, Fred.”

You closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a long breath. For the first time in a long while, you felt… lighter.

It wasn’t until you were cleaning up the living room that you noticed Fred’s untouched mug of tea sitting on the coffee table.

You frowned, picking it up. It was still full, the liquid cold to the touch.

“He must’ve been too busy talking to drink it,” you murmured to yourself, shaking your head. You poured the tea down the sink and put the mug in the dishwasher, before heading to bed.

The shop was eerily quiet as you stepped inside, the familiar jingle of the bell sounding oddly out of place in the stillness. You glanced around at the dimly lit aisles, the shelves a kaleidoscope of colors even in the low light. It was strange seeing the shop like this, so empty, so lifeless.

You had worked late again, but something about the thought of going straight home made your skin itch. You needed to be somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t the sterile white walls of St. Mungo’s.

Your feet carried you to the back office without much thought, and you paused at the slightly open door.

Fred was there, hunched over the desk, his fingers toying with a quill as he stared down at a piece of parchment.

“Fred,” you said softly, pushing the door open further.

He looked up, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Finally off work, then?”

You nodded, stepping inside and leaning against the doorframe. “Barely. Thought I’d stop by, but it looks like I missed the fun.”

“Yeah, George closed up a while ago. You’ve got terrible timing,” he teased, his tone light.

Your gaze flicked to the desk where a photo caught your eye. It was the three of you—Fred, George, and yourself—arms slung over each other, laughing like you didn’t have a care in the world. You picked it up, your fingers brushing over the glass.

“I remember this,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Good times, weren’t they?” Fred said, leaning back in his chair. “You and George couldn’t stop arguing that day. Think you were fighting over who’d get the last treacle tart.”

Your smile widened despite the ache in your chest. “He cheated, though.”

Fred snorted. “He’s a Weasley. Comes with the territory.”

Setting the photo down, you slid into the chair across from him. “Feels like it was forever ago.”

Fred’s expression softened, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to settle on his features. “It wasn’t that long ago. We’re just… different now.”

You studied him, a lump forming in your throat. He looked the same as he always had—bright eyes, a smirk that never quite left his lips—but there was something in his voice, something in the way he looked at you, that felt heavier.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Things change.”

Fred gave a small nod, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “So, how’s it really going? With the hospital, I mean.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It’s… a lot. I thought I was ready for it, but some days it feels like I’m drowning.”

“You’re not, though,” he said, his tone firm. “You’re stronger than you think.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’ve been through hell, and you’re still here. That counts for something.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the sincerity in his voice made the words stick in your throat.

“Thanks,” you said instead, the word barely above a whisper.

Fred gave you a small smile, leaning back in his chair. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. Things to do.”

“Like what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked. “You don’t get to know all my secrets.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes as you stood. “Well, don’t let me keep you.”

“Don’t work too hard,” he said as he stood, heading for the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” you said, watching as he left.

You lingered in the office for a moment before shaking your head and making your way toward the exit.

As you reached the front door, someone stepped inside.

“George?” you said, startled.

He looked at you, his expression tight and guarded. “Thought I’d locked up.”

“I—uh—yeah. I was just… stopping by,” you said vaguely, clutching your bag.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. His face was drawn, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

“You look terrible,” you said before you could stop yourself.

George gave a dry laugh. “Thanks. Just what I needed to hear.”

“Sorry,” you muttered, shifting on your feet.

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You weren’t at the —”

Before he could say what he wanted to say, the picture of the three of you slid from your hands. You hadn’t realized that you were still holding it.

The shards of glass were everywhere, you immediately went to pick them up, but George grabbed your hand before you could hurt yourself.

“I do that too, you know?”

The question caught you off guard, your chest tightening. “What do you mean?”

George shrugged, his gaze flickering toward the back office. “Feels real, you know?”

You frowned, unsure how to respond.

“Right,” George said, his tone unreadable.

An awkward silence stretched between you before he cleared his throat. “If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

As you stepped out into the night, the cool air prickling your skin, his words lingered in your mind.

You shook your head, trying to brush off the strange feeling settling in your chest. The conversation with George left you feeling unsettled.

You told yourself it was just George grieving. Everyone was grieving. That’s all it was.

The air outside St. Mungo’s was brisk, carrying the crisp bite of autumn. You tugged your coat tighter around yourself, grateful for the rare quiet moment on your break. The day had been chaotic—healers rushing from patient to patient, the hum of spells and the faint scent of antiseptic filling the halls. It wasn’t exactly the type of environment that allowed for deep breaths or calm thoughts.

You wandered down a quiet path near the hospital, letting the cool breeze soothe your frazzled nerves. Your eyes scanned the rows of trees, their branches shedding golden and crimson leaves onto the cobblestone.

“Mind if I join?”

The voice was unmistakable, and you whipped around to see Fred grinning at you, his hands stuffed casually into the pockets of his jacket.

“Fred!” you exclaimed, relief washing over you like a balm. “What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d check in,” he said, falling into step beside you. “You’re impossible to track down these days, you know that?”

“I’ve been busy,” you said with a shrug. “Work’s been… a lot.”

“Still haven’t figured out how to clone yourself yet, then?” he teased, bumping your shoulder lightly with his own.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Not quite. Maybe I’ll work on that next.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the leaves crunching underfoot. Fred was always like this, effortlessly pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts, making the world feel lighter somehow.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what do you do to unwind after a day of saving lives?”

“Sleep, mostly,” you admitted. “If I’m lucky, maybe eat something that doesn’t taste like parchment.”

Fred gave a mock gasp. “Blasphemy! This is why I should’ve brought you something from the shop. Maybe a bag of Canary Creams to keep things interesting.��

You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. “Pretty sure my coworkers would kill me if I turned anyone into a bird on hospital grounds.”

“Sounds like they could use a laugh,” Fred said, smirking. “You’re too serious these days.”

You looked at him, the warmth of his presence easing the tension that had been knotting your chest all day. “Maybe. It’s hard not to be, though. Things… aren’t how they used to be.”

Fred’s expression softened, and for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes dimmed. “No, they’re not. But that doesn’t mean you’ve lost who you are. You’re still you, even if it feels different now.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Fred gave you a crooked smile. “Anyway, I should get going. Don’t want to keep you from your heroics.”

“Right,” you said, watching as he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing down the path.

When you returned to the hospital, you spotted Elena near the staff break room. She was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, and her expression almost concerned when she saw you.

“Hey,” she said. “You alright? You looked… I don’t know, distracted earlier.”

“Distracted?” you echoed, frowning.

“Yeah,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “You seemed… off. Just wanted to say, if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

Her words gave you pause, confusion prickling at the back of your mind. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, managing a small smile.

“Of course,” Elena said, her tone warm but cautious. “Just remember, you’re not alone, okay?”

You nodded, though her words lingered uneasily in your mind as you made your way back to your duties.

Why did Elena think something was wrong?

You pushed the thought away, chalking it up to exhaustion. But as you dove back into your work, you couldn’t shake the strange feeling in your chest—the faint but growing sense that something wasn’t quite right.

Your flat was dimly lit, the faint glow of a single lamp casting soft shadows across the walls. You had collapsed onto the sofa after a long day, still wearing your healer robes, too tired to change. The weight of exhaustion pressed heavily against your chest, but your mind refused to quiet.

A knock at the door startled you, your heart leaping in surprise. It was late—too late for visitors—but you dragged yourself up to answer it.

When you opened the door, Fred stood there, leaning casually against the frame with a lopsided grin.

“Hope I’m not interrupting your riveting evening plans,” he said, his voice light but warm.

“Fred,” you said, your fatigue melting into a mix of relief and surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to check on you,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. He glanced around your flat, his eyes landing on the cluttered coffee table and the half-empty mug of tea. “Looks like I got here just in time. You’re living the dream, aren’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, shutting the door behind him. “Not all of us get to play with fireworks and sweets all day.”

Fred laughed, a sound that filled the room and wrapped around you like a blanket. He plopped down onto the armchair across from you, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

“You look awful,” he said cheerfully.

“Thanks,” you muttered, sinking back onto the sofa.

There was a comfortable silence between you for a moment, the kind you only shared with someone who had known you forever. You tilted your head to look at him, the familiar lines of his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled—it was all so painfully Fred.

“It’s been a while,” you said softly. “Since we sat like this.”

“Yeah,” Fred said, his voice quieter now. “Feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, your chest tightening. “Do you ever think about it? About how everyone just assumed we were—”

“A couple?” Fred interrupted, smirking. “All the time. George used to place bets on when we’d finally ‘admit it.’”

You laughed, though it felt hollow. “They weren’t wrong, though, were they? We were close.”

Fred’s expression softened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. “We were. Still are.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. The question had been buried deep in your mind for years, but now it rose to the surface, demanding to be spoken. “Fred… why didn’t it ever happen? Why didn’t we ever—?”

He looked at you then, his gaze steady but distant, as if he were searching for the right words. “You know,” he said after a moment, his voice low, “sometimes you don’t get closure. Sometimes things just… are.”

The answer left you reeling, the weight of it settling heavily in your chest.

Fred stood abruptly, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Anyway, I should go. You need sleep, and I need to—” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward the door.

“Right,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As he left, the silence in your flat felt deafening. You stared at the spot where he had been sitting, your thoughts a chaotic tangle of emotions.

Fred’s words echoed in your mind, and for the first time, you wondered if you were chasing something that could never truly be found.

The bell above the door of the tea shop jingled softly as you stepped inside. The warm scent of cinnamon and chamomile washed over you, momentarily easing the tension that had weighed heavily on your shoulders since the previous night. It was your first day off in weeks, and after losing a patient yesterday, you had needed this—a quiet space to think, or perhaps, to not think at all.

Your eyes scanned the room, landing on Fred sitting by the window, a steaming cup in front of him. His head was tilted slightly, gazing out at the bustling street outside.

You hesitated for a moment before walking over to him. His face lit up when he noticed you, and he gestured to the empty seat across from him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Fred,” you said, sliding into the seat. “You’ve got a habit of turning up exactly when I need someone to talk to.”

“Call it a gift,” he said, shrugging. “What’s got you looking like you just ran headfirst into a Hippogriff?”

You sighed, wrapping your hands around the warm ceramic of your cup after ordering a simple black tea. “Rough day yesterday. Lost someone.”

Fred’s teasing expression softened immediately. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gentler now.

You shrugged, your throat tightening. “It happens. Doesn’t make it easier, though.”

Fred leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You ever think about doing something else? Something less… heavy?”

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But it’s not that simple, is it? I like helping people.”

“And who’s helping you?” he asked, his tone pointed but kind.

You looked away, his words cutting deeper than you cared to admit. “I’m fine,” you said quietly. “Really.”

Fred didn’t press further, instead leaning back in his chair and letting the conversation shift to lighter topics. He told you a ridiculous story about George’s latest experiment at the shop, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic pauses. You laughed in spite of yourself, grateful for the distraction.

The two of you sat there for what felt like hours, reminiscing about old times and trading jokes. For a moment, it felt like the world outside the tea shop didn’t exist.

Eventually, Fred glanced at the clock on the wall and stood up. “I should get going,” he said, his tone reluctant. “George will have my head if I’m late again.”

You nodded, watching as he turned toward the door. “Fred,” you called after him.

He paused, looking over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” you said simply.

His smile was soft, genuine. “Anytime.”

And then he was gone, leaving the air around you feeling oddly still.

You stayed a few minutes longer, finishing your tea in silence. When you finally stood to leave, you noticed something strange—people were staring at you.

Their gazes weren’t hostile, but curious, as if you’d done something out of the ordinary. You met a few of their eyes, but no one said anything. A couple seated near the door exchanged whispers, their eyes flicking toward your table.

Frowning, you pulled your cloak tighter around yourself and stepped out into the chilly air. The feeling of being watched clung to you as you made your way home, an unease settling in your chest.

When you reached your flat, you locked the door behind you and leaned against it, trying to shake the strange sensation.

“Just tired,” you muttered to yourself. “That’s all it is.”

But the memory of their stares lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

It was late when you heard the knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it. But when the knock came again, heavier this time, you reluctantly got up and opened the door.

George stood there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat, his face pale and drawn.

“George,” you said, blinking at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. “Mum’s been asking about you,” he said, his voice careful. “She says she hasn’t seen you in ages.”

You frowned, closing the door behind him. “I’ve been… busy.”

“You’re always busy,” he said, looking around your flat as though trying to make sense of the chaos. His gaze lingered on a pile of unopened letters on the table, a half-empty cup of tea on the counter. “You’ve been avoiding us.”

“That’s not true,” you said defensively.

“Isn’t it?” he said, raising an eyebrow. He looked at you closely, his sharp eyes narrowing. “You’re not okay, are you?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. George had always been perceptive, too perceptive, and you suddenly felt stripped bare under his scrutiny.

“I’m fine,” you said quietly, looking away.

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “we’re all trying to figure out how to move forward. It’s hard, isn’t it? Finding a way to keep going without—”

He stopped himself abruptly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Without what?” you asked, your chest tightening.

George shook his head. “Never mind,” he muttered. “Forget I said anything.”

You frowned, confused and slightly unnerved by the way he was looking at you, like he was trying to tell you something without actually saying it.

“Come with me,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“Just… come with me,” he repeated, already heading toward the door.

“George, it’s late—”

“I know,” he said, turning to face you. “But this is important. Please.”

Something in his tone made you hesitate. Reluctantly, you grabbed your coat and followed him out into the chilly night.

He didn’t say much as you walked, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold. You tried to make sense of his sudden appearance, the strange tension in his voice, but the silence between you felt too fragile to break.

Finally, he led you to a quiet, secluded area, the air around you growing heavier with each step. You glanced around, the faint outlines of headstones barely visible in the moonlight.

“George,” you said, your voice catching. “What is this?”

He stopped in front of a particular spot, his back to you. For a long moment, he didn’t move, his shoulders rising and falling with a deep, shaky breath.

When he finally turned to face you, his expression was unreadable. “I just thought… maybe this would help,” he said quietly.

You didn’t understand what he meant, not fully, but something in his eyes—something raw and achingly familiar—made your chest tighten.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

George didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stepped closer and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you. The unexpected gesture caught you off guard, and for a moment, you froze.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly. “It’s okay to miss him.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt the air leave your lungs in a sharp gasp.

You clung to him, your mind reeling, the weight of his words pressing down on you.

For a moment, it felt like something inside you was unraveling, pieces of a puzzle you hadn’t realized you were trying to solve falling into place.

But the full picture remained just out of reach, the truth lingering at the edges of your mind like a shadow.

George pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders. “You don’t have to go through this alone,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes.

You nodded silently, unable to find the words to respond.

George left after a while, a long time that was filled with silence. But you couldn’t go yet, you were still standing in the middle of the graveyard.

That’s when Fred walked up next to you, looking down at the grave in front of you.

“You’re not real,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Fred tilted his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. “No,” he said simply, “I’m not.”

The weight of those words hit you like a tidal wave.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched thin, taut with everything you hadn’t said and everything you now understood.

“Why?” you finally asked, your voice barely audible.

Fred’s gaze softened, but there was something unshakably sad in his eyes. “You needed me,” he said. “So I was here.”

You swallowed hard, your hands shaking. “But you’re gone,” you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

“I am,” he said, his voice steady but quiet.

The world felt impossibly still, the air heavy with unspoken grief.

“I don’t—” you started, your voice cracking. “I don’t know how to do this, Fred. I don’t know how to let you go.”

Fred turned to you. “You don’t have to,” he said gently. “Not really. I’m always going to be here, just not like this.”

Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. “It’s not fair,” you whispered. “You were supposed to have so much more time. We were supposed to have more time.”

Fred’s smile wavered, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his façade. “Life’s not fair,” he said, his voice tinged with a bitterness you rarely heard from him. “But you know that already, don’t you?”

You nodded, the tears spilling over now. “I love you, Fred,” you said, your voice breaking. “I loved you, and I never even told you. I never got the chance to—”

“You didn’t have to tell me,” Fred interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “I knew.”

You looked up at him, your breath catching. “How?”

He smiled, a bittersweet curve of his lips. “You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me? Or how you always laughed at my terrible jokes, even when no one else did? Or how you always saved me a seat, even when it meant you had to stand?”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your tears.

“I knew,” he said again, his tone softer now. “And you know, deep down, that I loved you too.”

Your chest ached, the pain so sharp and overwhelming that it felt like you might break under the weight of it. “I just wanted more time,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Another chance.”

Fred’s expression grew serious, his gaze locking with yours. “I know you do,” he said quietly. “But if you had it, would it ever be enough?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat.

Fred leaned back, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “You would always want more,” he said, his voice steady but filled with a quiet sorrow. “Because that’s how it is with love. It’s never enough time. Not really.”

Your hands trembled as you struggled to process his words.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” you said, your voice breaking again.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his voice impossibly gentle. “I’ll always be a part of you. I’ll always be in your memories, in the things that make you laugh, in the things that remind you of me.”

Tears streamed down your face, your chest heaving with the force of your sobs. “But it’s not the same,” you choked out. “It’s not the same as having you here.”

Fred’s expression softened, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache even more. “I know,” he said. “But you have to keep living, love. You have to keep going, even if it hurts.”

You looked at him, your vision blurred with tears. You reached out your hand, close enough to touch his face, but you didn’t, too scared of what might happen if you tried.

Fred’s smile was soft, tinged with sadness. “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to.”

You clenched your fists, the ache in your chest almost unbearable.

“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” you whispered.

Fred looked down at you, his gaze filled with a love that you could feel in every fiber of your being.

“You don’t have to say it,” he said. “Just… let me go.”

You sobbed, the sound raw and broken, as you watched him turn around.

“Fred,” you called, your voice cracking.

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” you said, the words tumbling out of you like a confession, like a plea.

Fred smiled, his eyes glistening. “I know,” he said. “I love you too.”

And then he was gone.

You turned around again, staring yet again at the grave in front of you.

You stood there for a long time, the silence deafening. Until you took a step forward, your fingers tracing the engraved letters.

Fred Gideon Weasley

1st April 1978 - 2nd May 1998

#harry potter #fic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #fred weasley #imagine #weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred fic #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff

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running-with-kn1ves · 4 months ago

Text

A Siren's Hunger

A/N: Wrote this a year (?) ago but decided to edit it to make it post-worthy. Idk what I was on when I wrote this.

CW: reader losing a lot of blood, biting, graphic fears of being eaten, predator vs prey, sharp teethses Synopsis: Dragged underwater by a siren, you play a series of games to prevent her from devouring you whole, only to offer an uncomfortable proposition in exchange for your life.

"Eight... nine... ten! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

You covered your mouth with pruned fingers, roughly cutting off any oxygen as your chest pounded. Your heart was going a mile a minute, as if you were a small, skittish creature hiding from something ready to devour. You peered around the rock you hid behind, eyes darting around the small body of water and searching for any signs of movement. The water rippled in small waves but you couldn't tell where they were coming from.

The water always seemed to be moving, no matter if everything inside of it stood still. You gripped the rock with one hand, the other still covering your mouth and nose as you tried to breathe as quietly as possible.

Your eyes were wide and alert, your mind chanting prayers and hopes of being hidden enough to at least last through this game. But a fin flipped to your left, creating waves and reverbed echoes in the shadowy cave. You jerked back behind the large boulder, splashing lightly in the water as you sank lower to hide yourself. Your entire body was wet, hair dripping as your clothes were drenched to the point of sagging.

They clung to your skin, each layer sticky and damp and refusing to let go. Your shoes made it impossible to swim long distances, and the sweater entrapping your arms and torso made you sink slightly. At this point you were tempted to take it off if it meant you had a better chance at swimming away.

The sound of slapping on the water was closer now, hums of excitement and curiosity only a few feet away from the rock you desperately held on to. Her voice was so near, crystal clear and beautiful snippets of a song you had never heard. It was enchanting, drawing your hand away from your mouth. Your eyes glazed over, begging to be drawn out from behind the rock and towards the alluring voice. You tried to push back, digging your nails into the boulders surface and even wrapping your legs around it. But it wasn't enough; your body had a new goal that didn't involve survival. Mere attraction, a fatal seduction that would turn you to nothing but clumps of wet meat in the sea.

It felt like your skin was on fire, burning up in the cool water as you tried to shut your eyes and plug your ears. But as the singing got louder, a soft and tempting melodic voice calling to you, you couldn't hold back. Your mind grew hazy, only focusing on the fins sticking out of the deep water and the enchanting voice that clouded your senses.

As soon as you realized your mistake --stepping a mere few inches beside the boulder rather than behind it-- you were too late.

"Boo!" She shouted. The end of her siren song caused you to snap out of your trance and shriek at her sunken, angled face.

You swam back to the rock as she laughed, your nails scraping against the rough surface as you clung to it for security.

"You're so easy," she giggled, her mouth opening to air rows of shark-like sharp, lethal, teeth.

"You, cheated--" Huddling into yourself you shyed away from her with a heavy exhale. She made you afraid, every part of her screaming at you to “run away or be eaten” but you couldn't; in this small little pool, stuck in this freezing cave, you had no way out. Well, no way without drowning first, or being “shredded alive” as the siren sweetly put it after bringing you in here.

You shuddered, looking down at the underwater hole opening to the endless sea that tempted you. If you were just a little bit stronger, a little faster, you could make it out of this sparkling, terrifying cave that you got dragged in.

"I didnt cheat," she licked her lips, bobbing up and down in the water. "You're just a sore loser. Now, my prize?"

You clenched your teeth, traveling around the boulder to the other side as she pursued you. Her slick, charcoal hair nearly covered the boney and wide features of her face; terrifying electric blue eyes peering deeply at you, like a prey she couldn't let out of her sight lest it bolt. She was bizarrely gaunt, yet possessed an unseen strength and serratedness in her teeth and fingers, her tail a flexible whip that had yet to be used against you.

But, that doesn't count! You used a method I couldn't get away from, s-so--"

"You could have gotten away if you tried hard enough." She lifted an eyebrow, continuing to float at you around the boulder, but not yet striking. "I've had humans manage to escape. They've been few and far between but..." she grinned maliciously, reminiscing on their taste and fond memories of such chase. "If you really wanted it, you could have won. But you didn't."

"You have an unfair advantage," you scowled, trying to protect yourself from her hands that seemed keen on grabbing yours. "Please, uhm,"

"Alette. Did you forget already?"

"Well it's kind of hard to remember when you're threatening to maim me!" You shot back. You were panicking, hardly a head above begging for your life and cussing her out simultaneously. "Please just give me another chance, just one more game--"

"That's what you said last time, little fish. And the time before that," She drew closer as you tried to run around the rock again; those eyes, solidly blue and vibrant-- how could something be so bright in such a lightless cave?

"When are you going to accept your fate? I dont mind an easy meal." She grabbed your hand with a snarl, stopping you from swimming away. "What other choice do you have than to give in, It's not like you're going to escape any time soon."

Despite how much you resented the siren, she was right. You had gotten yourself stuck in this situation-- night swimming at the beach, ALONE-- and now had no way of leaving or calling for help. And it was clear that Alette wasnt going to provide any assistance away from this forsaken air pocketed cave, unless it consisted of eating you.

"That doesn't mean I'm just going to let you kill me!"

"We play this little game over and over again just to let you keep some dignity. Face it-- stop struggling and let me take a bite."

She opened her mouth, aiming for your throat.

"No!" You shouted, shoving her pointed, scaled shoulders as you push away from the rock. Alette grunted animalistically through her pearly teeth, diving underwater. You were grateful for your mildly decent swimming skills-- or, the adrenaline that made you move ten times faster. But it still wasn't enough to outswim the creature.

You heard a rough splash before sensing her grip. The siren slammed you against a nearby cave wall, her claws digging into your shoulders as your head pressed against the jagged rock.

The wind was immediately knocked out of you, your labored breathing not phasing Alette.

The siren drew closer, her mouth gaping open towards your neck as her claws dug into the wool covering your shoulders. Up close, you could see her less than human features more prominently. Her slit eyes so devious, with thinned eyebrows and a sickly pale complexion. Her mouth naturally curved into a sly, widely unnatural smile, ready and satisfied to eat you. The gills on her neck and the fins replacing her ears faded from ghostly white skin to a dark blue-ish black, like frostbite; the rubbery flesh was wet from all her swimming. She dripped onto you, murky water running from her long, dark hair onto your chest. You had noticed that her upper half was nude, but now it was incredibly visible as her exposed chest pinned against yours. Her sternum seemed to dig into your flesh; tough, sleek skin meant for bumping against hard cave walls or rough sands pressed coldly onto your shivering body.

"You know, I really do like to play with my food. Trying to see you measly little creatures defy your natural born predator is part of the fun of eating you." Her eye twitched in irk as you tried to push her off again. "But I'm tired of this game. So, I think it's time we end this."

You turned away with a grimace and tried to squeeze your legs together. Her large, slimy tail was pushed between you as it flickered to stay swimming; the softness of the fins lining her tail were oddly ticklish, making you even more nervous at its foreign touch.

"Wah-wait!" You shout, trying to open one of your salty, mortified eyes. "What if, I can offer you something else...?" You bite the inside of your lip, hoping she'll listen before deciding to devour you; you could see how thin her patience had become. "In return, you could take me to the surface."

"In return, I could put off eating you."

"That works too," you look her up and down, gulping and hardly believing what you're about to say.

"What can you offer me that's better than eating you?” She asked half heartedly, chuckling at the idea.

You swallow roughly and, hesitantly, fall limp. Alette raised her eyebrows, surprised at seeing you go slack, an act you hadn't done since she first drug your exhausted, scared figure in the cave.

Your arms came up against her shoulders as she held yours. She inspected your incoming fingers, curious-- yet not stopping you. You gently slithered upward, leaning against her and pulling her closer by scaled shoulders.

Your face was only inches away, your gaze on her as she looked at you with suspicious eyes.

"It may not be much, but it's all I can offer..." you mumble, looking down at yourself and feeling for the soaked waves of hair touching her shoulders.

Before she could pull you away or you could come to your senses, you lean upwards. Your lips come into contact with hers, gently pressing against her hard, damp face.

You felt the prick of her teeth as her lips parted, staying statuesquely still.

You let go of her mouth quickly, returning back to the comfort of the wall as she stared at you, neon eyes burning into you.

She looked oddly surprised for a moment, taken aback by your forwardness; a look you had never seen her wear. It didn’t last long, her smug expression coming back as quick as lightning.

"So, your body? Are you sure this is a better trade?" She leered over you, letting go of your sweater to trap you between her hands. They hung above you, pressing against the cave wall as you struggled to stay afloat. "I'm quite vicious you know. Being my companion, or even a mere plaything is no easy feat. I personally think you’d be better off in my stomach."

You shivered at hearing that, sinking into the water the closer she got. Gulping, you stayed silent.

"Hmm, No reply?" She drew closer, her face as near as it once was moments ago. "Like I said, I like it more when my food cooperates. I want to hear it from your lips."

She stroked the side of your face with her nail, running it down your cheek with enough pressure to make you feel how sharp it was. How sharp it could be.

"I want to hear you ask me for what you want."

You brought your hands to your chest, Alette twisting her head to look at you more deeply. She was much longer than you, her tail making her both thicker and stronger. Her arms were caged around you, drawing closer the more you sunk into yourself.

--Absolutely not-- you began to protest in your head. But she grinned so perfectly, so hungrily with a tongue running over each toothly blade; what choice did you have? Did your pride really matter, if you were only dismembered parts left in the sea otherwise?

"I want you to..."

"Yes?"

She was growing impatient again.

"I want you to, to have my body..."

"And?"

"And use it...however you'd like...In exchange for my life-- don’t forget that."

Your face twists in shame at the words coming out of your mouth, immediately feeling a deep, gut sense of humiliation. But you were slightly grateful for this chance to say such embarassing words; If she were a lustless creature, this less horrific fate, may not be possible.

Alette had the ability to eat you whole, to lure you into the depths of the water and consume you. She didnt need your permission to do anything. The only reason you've survived this long is how much she enjoys the chase of her prey, of getting them to the lowest point of exhaustion to where they beg her to kill them, to put them out of their misery.

"Why, how forward of you!" She feigned shock.

The half-human smirked, putting both hands on your waist and pulling it forward.

"But alright.. if you insist."

Her mouth aimed straight for yours. The siren held out her tongue, mingling it with your own as her teeth nipped and bit. You groaned in her mouth as she bit your tongue, lapping up the blood with her own. She held her eyes open, boring holes into your squinted ones in a devious, hazy manner. You knew she could see the pain and weakness in your face. The siren shoved you against the wall again, this time with one hand on your chest and the other in your scalp. Her hand gripped your hair, digging nails into your skull as she pressed herself against you.

Her sharp fangs dug into your lips over and over, creating pierced marks and falling blood droplets as she desecrated your mouth. Your chest heaved, the pain and lack of oxygen from her kisses making your head spin.

The scales on her hands glittered against the reflection of the water; it was clear she had never attempted this before, being as ravenous and sloppy as an inexperienced teenage boy. And yet, you felt relief in only trying to avoid her teeth, letting the warmth of her mouth make its way into your cold, salty one.

"Are you still sure this is a better option than being eaten?" She huffed in your ear, grabbing your sweater to lift up at her leisure. "It only gets worse from here. A siren’s pleasures may be… more demanding than what a human is used to."

You absentmindedly nodded, looking at her with glazed over and droopy eyes. You could handle it, if it meant seeing the sun, seeing your shitty roommates again someday. As long as you didn’t suffer the agonizing wrath of a monster’s claws and teeth.

Alette laughed, shriekingly beautiful and odd coming from that wide, murderous mouth. A hand trickles up your stomach, tapping what feels like needles against each rib.

"Well, don't blame me for what happens then."

The siren pulled away to take your wrist to her mouth, her jaw widening as she leans in to bite. You would have jerked away if it weren't the new iron tight hold on your throat, slamming you mercilessly against the wall of the cave. You grabbed the arm leading to your neck with your free hand; the siren’s daggered teeth sank into your skin, its unbrokeness almost inviting her to have a taste. To Alette, it looked so right.

Your flesh pooled around her mouth, so smooth and vulnerable. Beads of blood fell into the water below, Alette unable to lap them all up as she deepened her bite. You cried out, tears forming on the corners of your eyes as you moaned in pain. They hypnotizing creature shoved you harder against the cave the louder you got, making you choke on your cries, her bite now unbearably stinging.

But what was once a fiery wound, turned into a pulsating agony the moment she unsunk her teeth. Blood spilled from your arm, Alette’s mouth messy with her serpent tongue covered in red. You looked down at your arm with a cringe. The blood pooled down to your fingertips, making a red swarm in the murky water the rest of your body was submerged in. You screamed behind gritted teeth, cradling your arm as it continued to leak onto your clothes.

"I thought.. you said you wouldn’t," You hiccuped over your words as Alette looked unimpressed, but oddly sympathetic.

You were just so simple, somehow more gullible compared to the other simpletons she's eaten. Astray sailors, cruise honeymooners, and idiots who stole their dad’s boats; they were all the same. They begged and pleaded for their lives, too stubborn to give in to death. No matter how many she ripped from the surface to put in this feeding ground, none of them seemed to give in as fast as you had. She always liked them simple; submissive. But who knew today would be the day she finally found a trainable companion.

"I'm not going to eat you," she said sternly. "This is a warning. Look,"

Alette twisted your arm, showing you the indents that her teeth left in your flesh. Deep gashes, ones that would leave clean, punctured scars.

"It’s a symbol of possession. It isn’t easily conflicted with a shark or a fish’s bite; if anyone dares come in here, they’ll know you’re already claimed as livestock." Alette bent down to lick the remaining blood that still gushed from your open bite marks.

That thought might’ve been more terrifying than death; how many like her were out there, feeding on others like this? Were there those who were… worse? You were lightheaded from the thought, the idea that something with even less mercy might ignore this “claim” and go right for your throat like she had. Or, maybe that was the loss of blood decorating Alette’s face.

By the time she finished cleaning your arm, there were only raw bite marks left. Your tears had dried, but the dulling pain was still tingling, sharp pulses making you groan.

Perhaps, this wasn’t better than being eaten. But it was clear that Alette’s mind was made up-- atleast, for now. Who knew when her hunger urges and natural instincts would get the better of her, causing you to lose an arm or a leg.

"How about we see how much your feeble body can take, hm? I've observed some new rituals you humans partake in."

Before you could respond, Alette was already thumbing your wet pants, nipping teasingly rough at your neck. You tried to grip her arm, but the siren had other ideas. Grabbing your legs, she wrapped your thighs around her scaled waist, lifting your body gently to kiss you. Her nails dug into the space above your elbows with ravenous lips coming to make a messy attempt at kissing your mouth. The slimy kiss had a wet exit, her tongue peeking from your mouth to come graze up your salty cheek in a sultry taste.

"Savory, sweet little human."

370 notes · View notes

koyagifs · 2 months ago

Text

𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾

pairing: pirate!wooyoung x mermaid!reader au: pirate au genre: angst with happy ending word count: 6.984k synopsis: wooyoung searched far and wide for his lover, regardless of the consequences. warning(s): toxic family relationships, screaming match. please let me know if i miss anything else!! now excuse me while i go cry bc i actually really love this couple :(

part one

Yn swam swiftly, the cool water embracing her like an old friend as she made her way behind the ship. The familiar silhouette loomed in the distance, its massive hull cutting through the water like a silent sentinel. Her heart ached with every stroke, but she knew she needed this—this space, this distance, to breathe.

As she glided deeper into the shadow of the ship, she couldn't help but glance down, her hand brushing against the smooth surface of the shell that Wooyoung had given her. The one they had picked out together, so long ago, while laughing and talking about dreams they both thought would never end.

The shell had always been a symbol of something deeper between them—a quiet promise, a token of their bond. It was delicate yet strong, much like their friendship, and Yn had never been able to part with it, even as things between them started to shift. But now, holding it in her hand, she felt the weight of what she had just walked away from—the weight of the words she couldn’t say, the feelings she didn’t know how to handle.

She sank lower into the water, letting the pressure surround her, blocking out everything but the rhythm of her breathing and the gentle pull of the ocean currents. She needed to escape, to think clearly, but even in this solitude, all she could hear was Wooyoung’s voice, his plea, the raw emotion in his words.

Why did you have to say it, Wooyoung? she thought, her chest tightening at the memory. Why did you have to make me feel this way?

She clenched the shell tighter in her hand, but even the coolness of the ocean couldn’t calm the storm inside her. Her heart was torn in two, caught between her love for him and the fear of losing everything. It’s too dangerous, she thought, the words repeating like a mantra in her mind. It’s too dangerous for both of us.

And yet, even as she told herself that, part of her longed to turn back, to swim back to him and just hold him. To tell him everything, even if it meant risking it all. But she knew she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she figured out what to do with the mess of emotions he had stirred in her.

As Yn approached the familiar, shimmering reef that marked the edge of her underwater home, the sense of comfort she usually felt was replaced with a growing dread. The vibrant coral, the swaying seaweed, and the soft hum of the ocean currents seemed to mock her unease. She knew what awaited her within the grand, shell-encrusted structure that she had called home for so long: the voices of her mother and father, heavy with disappointment and concern.

Her movements slowed as she approached the entrance, her fingers brushing against the intricate carvings along the coral doorway. She hesitated, her chest tightening as the imagined weight of their words pressed down on her. But the soft glow of the bioluminescent crystals inside told her she couldn’t avoid this forever.

As Yn swam deeper into the grand expanse of her underwater home, the familiar sight of guards stationed along the corridor came into view. They stood at attention, their tails shimmering faintly in the glow of bioluminescent coral lining the walls. Each one lowered their head respectfully as she passed, their deference a constant reminder of the expectations placed on her.

But instead of comfort or pride, Yn felt the weight of dread pressing harder against her chest with every stroke she took. The closer she got to the central chamber, the heavier her limbs felt, as though the water itself resisted her movements.

She could already hear the faint murmur of voices—her mother and father, undoubtedly waiting for her. Their tones were muffled but unmistakably stern, the cadence of concern woven tightly with disappointment. They would have known she was near the surface again. They always knew.

The ornate archway of the main hall came into view, encrusted with shimmering shells and pearls that gleamed like a beacon of tradition and authority. Yn hesitated for a moment, her fingers brushing the edge of the cool stone frame. She closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself before swimming inside.

As she crossed the threshold, the full weight of their presence struck her. Her mother, regal and poised, turned first, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. Her father, standing beside her, exuded quiet authority, his arms crossed over his chest. Both pairs of eyes locked onto her, heavy with unspoken questions and accusations.

"Yn," her mother said, her voice sharp but steady. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"

Yn clenched her fists, holding her head high despite the dread pooling in her stomach. "I’m here, aren’t I?" she replied, her voice more defiant than she intended, though it trembled with the effort.

Her father’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You’ve been near the surface again. Near him, haven’t you?"

Yn didn’t answer right away. She stood tall, her posture defiant, but her gaze stayed fixed on a point just beyond them, refusing to meet their piercing stares. The weight of the shell in her hand was grounding, a reminder of the fleeting freedom she felt whenever she was with Wooyoung.

"Yn," her mother’s voice cut through the tension, softer than her father’s but no less filled with urgency. "Please, look at us. This isn’t a game. Do you know how dangerous this is? For all of us?"

Yn’s lips trembled, but she still didn’t answer. Her silence hung heavy in the water, the tension in the room thick enough to feel. Her father let out an annoyed groan, his patience clearly fraying. "Yn," he said, his voice sharp and cutting. "This is not the time for games. Answer me."

Her mother, more measured but equally concerned, sighed deeply, swimming closer to her. "Yn, sweetheart," she said softly, her tone a mix of worry and frustration. "We’re not trying to fight with you. We just need to understand—"

But before her mother could get any closer, Yn instinctively swam back, putting more distance between them. Her movements were quick and defensive, her eyes darting between them like a cornered creature. She gripped the shell tighter, as if it were the only thing tethering her to her emotions.

"You are to be wed to Prince Taeyong," her father declared, his voice echoing with finality throughout the chamber.

Yn froze, her mind spinning as his words settled like a stone in her chest. "What?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Her mother turned her head away, unable to bear the heartache etched so clearly in her daughter’s trembling voice. Guilt flickered across her face, but she remained silent, unwilling or unable to challenge her husband’s decision.

Her father’s tone remained cold and unyielding. "And you are to stay away from that boy," he added, his words cutting through the water like a blade. "A guard will be assigned to you at all times until the wedding. Do you understand me?"

Yn’s breath hitched as her father’s command struck her like a tidal wave. Her fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as anger and despair clashed within her. "You can’t do this," she said, her voice shaking but defiant.

Her father’s eyes narrowed, his expression hard as stone. "I can, and I will, if it means keeping you in line. This is not up for discussion, Yn. Your reckless behavior ends now."

Tears welled in Yn’s eyes, her vision blurring as her chest tightened. "I’m not some prisoner you can lock away!" she cried, her voice cracking with the force of her emotions. "This isn’t fair!"

"Fair?" her father scoffed, his voice filled with frustration. "Life isn’t fair, Yn. Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, and this is yours. You’ll learn to accept it."

Her mother flinched at his harsh words, but still, she said nothing, her silence cutting deeper than any reprimand.

Yn shook her head, her tears falling freely now, the ache in her heart almost unbearable. She took a step back, the familiar corridors of her home suddenly feeling like the walls of a cage. Unable to bear the emotional wave that course through her body, she swam away.

She took a step back, the familiar corridors of her home suddenly feeling like the walls of a cage, each shimmering pearl and ornate shell a cruel reminder of the life she couldn’t escape. The weight of her father’s decree pressed down on her chest, suffocating and unrelenting.

Unable to bear the emotional wave coursing through her body, Yn turned and swam away, her movements fueled by desperation and heartbreak. The tears she had fought to hold back now spilled freely, dissolving into the water around her as she darted through the labyrinth of her palace.

Her mother called after her, her voice trembling with guilt and worry. "Yn, wait!"

But Yn didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The overwhelming sense of betrayal and confinement drove her forward, her tail slicing through the water with speed she didn’t know she possessed. She barely registered the concerned glances of guards and attendants as she passed, her only focus being escape—anywhere but here.

The glow of the palace faded behind her as she swam into the open expanse of the ocean, the familiar safety of home replaced by the vast, cold depths. The silence out here was deafening, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she could breathe, unbound by the crushing expectations and suffocating rules of her family.

Wooyoung perched in the crow’s nest, the salty breeze whipping through his hair as he scanned the endless expanse of ocean below. His heart was a mix of hope and dread, pounding in his chest as he clutched the spyglass tighter in his hand. The rhythmic creak of the ship beneath him was the only sound besides the distant crash of waves and the occasional call of a gull.

He had been up there for hours, his eyes flickering over the water’s surface in search of any sign of Yn. Every ripple, every shift in the current, made his heart leap, only to fall again when it turned out to be nothing.

"Come on," he murmured under his breath, his voice carried away by the wind. "Where are you, Yn?"

Wooyoung’s heart ached as he gripped the edge of the crow’s nest, his gaze fixed on the endless waves. The guilt that gnawed at him since his confession hadn’t eased—it had only grown. He hadn’t meant to put you in this position, torn between your world and his. But he couldn’t take the words back, nor could he deny the feelings he had kept bottled up for so long.

He sighed, running a hand through his wind-tousled hair. "I’m sorry," he whispered to the ocean, as if you could hear him.

He knew how much your parents hated humans—how they feared them, mistrusted them, and saw them as nothing but trouble. And yet, every time you defied their rules to visit him, it felt like a fleeting miracle. Wooyoung cherished every laugh you shared, every story you told, and every moment you spent together, even if they came with the risk of discovery.

But now, he couldn’t help but feel like he had pushed too far. The memory of your tear-filled eyes haunted him. He had wanted to protect you, to offer you a place where you could be free to be yourself. Instead, he had only made things harder for you.

He gripped the spyglass tightly, scanning the horizon again. The guilt weighed heavy in his chest, but it was no match for the fear of losing you. He had to see you, to know you were safe.

"Please," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. "Just let me see you again."

" hyung! "

Wooyoung’s head snapped down at the sound of Jongho’s voice. He saw him standing on the deck, waving up at him with his usual calm but firm expression. Beside Jongho stood Hongjoong, arms crossed and gaze piercing as it fixed on Wooyoung.

Wooyoung felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to stay in the crow’s nest, out of reach and away from Hongjoong’s scrutinizing stare. But he knew better than to ignore his captain.

With a heavy sigh, he began his descent, climbing down the rigging with a practiced ease that didn’t match the tension in his body. As his boots hit the deck, Jongho stepped back to let Hongjoong take center stage, his presence as commanding as ever.

"Wooyoung," Hongjoong said, his tone measured but firm. "Care to explain why you’ve been up there all day, staring at the horizon like a lost puppy?"

Wooyoung hesitated, glancing at Jongho, who simply raised an eyebrow as if to say, You’re on your own with this one.

"I, uh..." Wooyoung scratched the back of his neck, avoiding Hongjoong’s sharp gaze. "Just... keeping watch. You never know when trouble might show up, right?"

Hongjoong wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Trouble? Or someone?"

Wooyoung’s throat tightened. He opened his mouth to respond, but Hongjoong cut him off.

"You’ve been distracted, Wooyoung," Hongjoong said, his voice low but not unkind. "Ever since we left port, your head’s been somewhere else. And I don’t have to guess where."

Wooyoung kicked his feet against the deck, avoiding eye contact with Hongjoong as he heard Jongho’s footsteps fade away. The quiet left a heavy tension in the air, thick with the weight of unspoken words and the truth Wooyoung wasn’t sure he could face.

Hongjoong stopped a few paces behind him, his gaze sharp but silent for a long moment. Wooyoung could feel his captain’s presence without needing to look up. There was no anger in Hongjoong’s silence, just a deep concern that Wooyoung couldn’t ignore.

Finally, Hongjoong spoke, his voice quieter than before but no less serious. "You’re not the only one who cares about her, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung stiffened, his heart clenching. He didn’t want to hear it—not now. "I know," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I can’t help how I feel."

Hongjoong’s sigh was barely audible, but Wooyoung felt the weight of it. "I’m not telling you to stop caring about her," he said, his voice softening. "I’m telling you to think about what comes next. About what happens when you take this too far."

Wooyoung’s chest tightened, a hiss of annoyance leaving his lips as Hongjoong walked away. The quiet between them was suffocating, and Wooyoung could feel his temper rising. He wasn’t angry at Hongjoong—no, it was the situation. The weight of everything. The uncertainty. The pressure that had been building for so long.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "What does he know?" Wooyoung muttered under his breath, his gaze following Hongjoong’s retreating figure. It wasn’t like the captain was wrong, but Wooyoung couldn’t shake the feeling that Hongjoong just didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what it felt like to care for someone so deeply, to feel that pull in your heart every time you thought about them.

"Hey, Youngie," a familiar voice called out, pulling Wooyoung from his spiraling thoughts. He snapped his head toward the sound, his heart still racing from the intensity of the conversation with Hongjoong.

Luna stood there, her smile warm but knowing, her eyes soft with understanding.

Wooyoung didn’t immediately respond, instead running a hand through his hair in frustration. Luna’s presence, as comforting as it was, only reminded him of how tangled everything felt.

"You know Captain means well," Luna added, her tone light but laced with the kind of wisdom that made Wooyoung sigh deeply.

"I know," he muttered, glancing away. "It’s just... I don’t think he gets it, Luna." His voice was rough, the frustration of the conversation with Hongjoong still simmering beneath the surface.

Luna’s smile faded slightly, her expression softening into something more serious. She took a step closer, her presence grounding him in a way that only a friend who knew him well could.

"Wooyoung," she said quietly, her voice gentle but firm. " captain would be the only one to understand.

Wooyoung turned to look at her, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice a little sharper than he intended.

Luna gave him a soft, knowing smile. "I mean that Hongjoong isn't just some captain with a rigid sense of duty. He's been through things you can't even imagine—things that might make him understand what you're going through more than you realize."

Wooyoung frowned, processing her words. "I know he’s been through a lot, but—"

A sudden thud broke his thoughts, interrupting the flow of his words. Wooyoung’s head snapped toward the sound, heart racing as he quickly turned toward the railing. Luna, sensing his shift in attention, followed his gaze as both of them hurried to the side of the ship.

There, just below, emerging from the ocean, was Yn. Wooyoung's breath caught in his throat as he saw her, her wet hair clinging to her face, her eyes wide and searching. The sight of her made his heart race, but before he could take a step closer, he heard Hongjoong’s voice cut through the tension.

“Drop the net!” Hongjoong shouted, his tone commanding as he rushed to the railing. He glanced at Wooyoung, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and authority, and gave a sharp nod.

Yn swam toward the net, her heart pounding in her chest as the crew pulled it upward. She gripped onto the rope tightly, her tail swishing freely behind her as she was hauled up toward the ship. The coolness of the ocean clung to her, contrasting sharply with the warmth of the ship’s deck she was about to reach.

As San and Yeosang tugged the rope, Yn's muscles burned, but she didn’t let go. She wasn’t sure if it was the fear of being trapped again or the need to be close to Wooyoung that kept her holding on, but something deep inside her drove her forward. She could feel the weight of the crew's eyes on her, and though their intentions were to help, she couldn't shake the feeling of being caught once more between two worlds.

Wooyoung stood by the rope, his heart hammering in his chest as Yn got closer, her tail glistening in the moonlight as she swam toward him. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, as if every second that passed was drawing him closer to something both beautiful and uncertain.

As the net was pulled higher, Wooyoung stepped forward, eyes locked on Yn. There was so much between them—so much they hadn’t said, so many fears and doubts—but none of that mattered now. All he could focus on was her, and the desperate need to be by her side, to hold her, to help her in whatever way he could.

The footsteps of the crewmates faded into the distance, leaving Wooyoung and Yn in a silence that felt heavier than any storm. The ship rocked gently beneath them, but for a moment, the world felt like it had stopped spinning entirely.

Yn's breath hitched as her emotions broke free. The tears that had been simmering beneath the surface finally flowed freely, her body trembling as she clung to Wooyoung. She buried her face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace envelop her, even as her heart threatened to shatter.

Wooyoung's heart ached for her, and his grip tightened around her, as if he could hold her together when the world seemed intent on pulling her apart. His hand gently stroked her hair, murmuring words of admire.

She sobbed quietly into his chest, her voice muffled as she clung to him. "I’m so scared, Wooyoung. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what to say anymore."

Wooyoung's heart clenched at her words, his own throat tight with unshed tears. He could feel her shaking, the depth of her fear sinking into him. He wanted to promise her that everything would be okay, but he knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy.

" what happen? i haven't seen you cry this hard since san accidentally ate fish in front of you." Wooyoung asked.

Wooyoung’s heart skipped a beat as he gently helped Yn sit on the base of the ship, the weight of her words sinking in. His brow furrowed in concern, but when she let out a small laugh, he couldn’t help but smile, relieved to see even a hint of lightness in her eyes.

"Don't remind me," she muttered, her voice cracking slightly as she wiped away the remnants of her tears. "You know how much I hated sannie for that."

Wooyoung chuckled softly, relieved to see her trying to smile. "I won't," he promised, his tone soft. He moved to sit beside her, their shoulders touching, the warmth of his presence steadying her.

Then, Yn’s voice grew quieter, filled with the depth of everything she had been carrying. "My parents, Woo… I love you so, so much," she said, her words trembling as she glanced up at him, her eyes still shining with tears. "When you confessed to me, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to say yes, but… everything with my family, the ocean... it’s just so much. And I’ve always been stuck between two worlds."

Wooyoung’s heart seemed to stop at her words. The air around them felt heavy, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He pulled back slightly, just enough to see Yn’s face, her eyes still red from crying, but now filled with something that was both painful and determined.

“I’m betrothed to another, Woo…” she whispered again, her voice barely audible, as if saying the words out loud made them real in a way she hadn’t been ready for. Her gaze dropped to the ground, the weight of her confession settling in the space between them.

His mind raced, trying to process what she was saying. The world suddenly felt far too small for the two of them, caught in this unbearable tension. "What?" Wooyoung breathed out, his voice cracking slightly. "Yn, no, you can’t... you can’t be—"

“I didn’t want this, Woo,” she interrupted quickly, her voice sharp with frustration, as if she were trying to convince herself as much as him. "But my parents… they’ve already arranged it. It’s been decided, and I don’t have a choice. I… I can’t just run away from it."

Wooyoung’s heart shattered seeing Yn in so much pain. He hadn’t realized until now how deeply the weight of everything had been affecting her. The tears falling from her eyes mirrored his own, and for a moment, they just sat there—two souls bound by love but torn apart by circumstances beyond their control.

Yn picked at her scales absentmindedly, her fingers trembling as they traced the delicate lines of iridescent blue and green that decorated her skin. Her gaze was far away, lost in thoughts she couldn’t voice. Wooyoung’s chest tightened at the sight of her distress.

He shuffled slightly away, giving her space, though he didn’t want to. His own emotions were a whirlwind, and he needed to process everything, but it broke him to see her so lost.

"I don’t know what to do, Woo," she whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost drowned by the sound of the ocean. She continued to pick at her scales, a nervous habit she’d developed whenever she was overwhelmed. "I love you so much, but my life... it’s like it’s already been decided for me. I don’t know how to change that."

Wooyoung swallowed hard, his heart aching at how powerless he felt in this moment. He had never felt so helpless before. But he had to remind her, even if he wasn’t sure how to fix everything yet.

Yn wiped her eyes quickly, startled by Hongjoong’s sudden appearance. Her heart skipped a beat, a mix of confusion and uncertainty swirling inside her. Wooyoung instinctively pulled her closer, his protective instincts kicking in, though he didn't release her.

Hongjoong’s smile remained soft, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes. “I may be able to help with that,” he said again, his voice calm but firm, as if he had an idea that could change everything for them.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, glancing at Yn before looking back at Hongjoong, the skepticism clear in his expression. “Help with what, hyung?”

Hongjoong’s gaze flickered to Yn, and then back to Wooyoung. “I know you both are in a difficult situation, but I’ve been paying attention. I think I might have a way to give you both more time—to find a solution that isn’t as... permanent as the one your parents have set for you, Yn.”

Yn’s brow furrowed as she sniffled again, still unsure. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice tentative, though her eyes were filled with a flicker of hope.

“I know it’s not much, and I’m not promising that this will be easy,” Hongjoong began, stepping closer to them both. “But... I think there’s a way we can buy you some time—time for you to figure things out without immediately being forced into that betrothal. Time for you to make your own choice.”

Yn clung tightly to the hammerhead shark, her fingers brushing against its rough, slick skin as it glided effortlessly through the water. The creature, a loyal companion and protector, seemed to sense her distress, its large head tilting slightly as it swam beneath her, providing her with the stability and comfort she needed in that moment.

The cold, deep waters of the ocean felt almost like a sanctuary compared to the heavy, suffocating pressure she had just left behind. The hammerhead shark, an imposing figure with its wide, angular head, was a reminder of the strength and resilience she still had within her, even when everything felt so out of control.

Yn’s heart raced as the shadows of the ocean grew longer, the dimming waters swallowing the light of the surface above. The hammerhead shark swam steadily beside her, its large head cutting through the water, but Yn felt an unsettling pull, a sense of dread that seemed to come from the very depths of the sea itself. It was as if the darkness beneath her was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Her tail flicked nervously, pushing her forward, but the ocean felt heavier now, as if each movement required more energy. She glanced over her shoulder at the ship trailing in the distance, the sound of creaking wood and faint voices carried by the wind. The weight of her decision hung in the air, the impossible choice between her love for Wooyoung and the demands of her family.

But now, there was something else lurking, a feeling that there was more at play than just her own fears. The shark beside her, once a comforting presence, now seemed more like a sentinel—silent, focused, as if it too sensed the danger.

Yn felt a shiver crawl up her spine, a sudden coldness settling in her chest as the shadows beneath the ocean deepened. The light from above was almost gone, swallowed by the growing night and the vastness of the sea. The shark moved more urgently now, its tail swishing faster as if it had sensed a shift in the water.

The closer they came to the ship, the heavier the air became. Yn’s pulse quickened, and she instinctively swam closer to the shark for protection. What was it? What had changed in the ocean’s current?

Suddenly, a dark shape flickered in the depths below—a ripple in the water that sent a jolt of panic through Yn’s chest. Her breath hitched, and her instincts screamed at her to swim faster, to get away. The hammerhead shark surged forward, pushing her onward, but it too seemed wary, its movements more frantic now.

“W-what’s down there?” Yn whispered to herself, her voice trembling in the water. She felt the pull of something dark, something ancient, something far beyond her comprehension. The ocean was vast, and it had its secrets. And right now, it felt like one of those secrets was waking up.

A low, rumbling growl echoed from the depths, vibrating through the water and shaking Yn to her core. She froze, her eyes wide with fear. The shark beside her turned, its body tensing as it swam in a tight circle, its instinct to protect her clear. But Yn’s gaze was fixed on the shadow moving beneath them, rising up from the depths like a predator. The water around them rippled as something enormous stirred in the dark.

Before she could process what was happening, the surface of the water above her began to ripple violently. The ship—a beacon of light and safety just moments before—suddenly seemed so far away.

The hammerhead shark hissed, its body bracing for something larger approaching, and Yn felt the sea itself shift, the ocean turning from a place of solace into one of danger.

Yn's breath caught in her throat as the shadows in the water cleared, and there, in the dim light filtering through the waves, she saw the unmistakable figures of her father and his guards. Her heart sank into her stomach, her pulse thundering in her ears. They were here.

Her father, his stern figure cutting through the water like a shadow, was flanked by two of his elite guards. They moved with an eerie grace, the sharp glint of their armor visible even in the depths. They were not here to negotiate. They were here to bring her back.

The hammerhead shark, her loyal companion and protector, let out a sharp, warning hiss, but before Yn could fully process the danger, the creature swam away, retreating into the deeper waters. The shark, once so steadfast at her side, was now gone—pulled away by some unseen force or by the overwhelming presence of the guards.

Yn's heart thudded painfully as her companion disappeared into the shadows, leaving her alone in the vast, suffocating ocean. The coldness of her father’s approach seemed to fill the water around her, and she could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on her, even from a distance.

"Yn," her father’s voice, low and commanding, cut through the water like a blade. "You’ve gone far enough."

Her breath hitched, her body frozen in place, and she didn’t respond immediately. The sting of his words—the disappointment, the anger—was too much to bear. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. The father who had always been her protector was now the one chasing her down, the one who would take her back to a life she didn’t want.

" no" yn said, surprising herself and her father. The word escaped Yn’s lips before she could fully process it. It was quiet, almost a whisper, but in the tense silence of the water, it rang out with a weight she hadn’t expected.

Her father’s eyes widened, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something like uncertainty in his gaze. The guards, too, stopped in their tracks, looking at each other as if unsure whether they had heard correctly.

"No," Yn repeated, her voice stronger this time, though it trembled with the weight of her own defiance. The water around her seemed to thicken with the tension, as if the ocean itself was holding its breath.

Her father’s face hardened, and the anger that flashed in his eyes was a stark contrast to the brief softness she had seen. His jaw clenched, his posture shifting as he swam closer, his authority palpable in the water around them.

"You dare defy me?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, each word cutting through the current like a blade.

Yn’s heart was pounding in her chest, her tail flicking nervously beneath her, but there was no turning back now. She had said it. She had spoken the words that had been trapped inside her for so long.

"I’m not going back," she said, her voice firm, though the words felt foreign on her tongue. "I won’t marry him. I won’t live my life the way you want me to."

The fury in her father’s eyes was enough to send a shiver through Yn’s body, but she stood her ground. The desire to flee was overwhelming—her instincts screaming at her to swim away from the storm that was about to break. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not after everything she had just said.

Her father’s glare bore into her, his tail lashing angrily behind him as he swam a few paces closer. The tension in the water thickened with every passing second, and Yn felt the weight of his disappointment like a physical force pressing against her chest. The ocean around them seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the next move.

“You really think you can defy me?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His normally controlled demeanor had shattered, and now the anger was raw, unchecked. “You are my daughter, Yn. You were never meant to have a choice. You belong to the kingdom. You belong to your people. Do you understand what that means?”

Yn swallowed hard, but her resolve held steady. She could feel the pounding of her heart in her ears, the fear and anger swirling within her, but she refused to show it. This was her moment. The one moment she would take for herself.

"Daddy, I love him!" Yn cried out, her voice breaking as she struggled against her father's iron grip. Every movement she made felt like she was being pulled further away from everything she wanted—away from Wooyoung, from the life she had begun to imagine with him. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a reminder of the love she felt, and the overwhelming fear of losing it all.

Her father’s grip tightened, his eyes flashing with both anger and something colder, something deeper. "Enough, Yn!" he snapped, his voice sharp like a whip. "You cannot love him. He is human. You are of the sea, and that is where your loyalty must lie, not with a mere human."

Yn’s tail swished violently through the water, trying to free herself from his grasp, but her father’s strength was too much. His fingers dug into her arms, and with every pull, she was dragged further and further away from the ship that still held Wooyoung’s presence. The sight of the ship growing smaller in the distance filled her with a new wave of desperation.

"You don’t understand!" Yn cried, her voice thick with tears. "I don’t care that he’s human. I don’t care about the rules. I love him. Why can’t you just let me be happy?"

Her father’s face twisted in fury, his patience wearing thin. "You are a fool, Yn. You think love can change everything? The ocean does not care for love. It only cares for power and tradition. You cannot have both."

With a final, desperate tug, Yn broke free from her father's grip, her tail propelling her forward with all the strength she could muster. The rush of freedom surged through her, and for that brief, fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. She could feel the pull of the ocean behind her, but it wasn’t enough to drag her back. Not this time.

"I can and I will!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the water, filled with the determination that had been building up inside her for so long. The words felt like a declaration—both to herself and to her father. She would no longer let the fear of consequences stop her. She would no longer be bound by the traditions and expectations that had never felt like her own.

Her heart raced as she swam faster, pushing herself toward the surface, toward Wooyoung, and toward the ship she had almost lost. The water around her seemed to resist her movements, but her resolve was stronger than ever. She could do this.

Behind her, her father’s furious roar echoed, but she didn’t look back. She couldn’t. She had already made her choice, and she wasn’t going to let anything or anyone take that away from her.

The light of the surface was within reach, and with every stroke of her tail, it seemed to get closer, brighter. The ship loomed above her, and she could see the outlines of her friends on deck, the ship’s sails fluttering in the wind. But most importantly, she saw Wooyoung standing near the edge of the ship, his eyes scanning the horizon, looking for her.

A breathless cry escaped Yn as she surged toward the surface, breaking through the water and into the open air. The wind hit her face, and she gasped in a mix of relief and exhaustion, her eyes locking onto Wooyoung’s.

“Yn!” Wooyoung’s voice rang out, filled with both relief and concern as he rushed to the edge of the ship, his arms outstretched as if he could catch her.

Without thinking, Yn propelled herself forward, her heart leaping in her chest. She was here. She had made it. She was free.

With a final surge, she reached the ship, and Wooyoung’s hands were there to help pull her up, his touch warm and steady as he guided her onto the deck. He didn’t say anything at first—he didn’t need to. His eyes told her everything: that he was just as relieved as she was, that he was proud of her for making it.

Yn collapsed against him, her breath ragged as she held onto him tightly. She could feel the tears in her eyes, but they weren’t from sorrow anymore. They were from the overwhelming relief of knowing she had made it to where she truly belonged.

" did you get it?" yn asked, finally catching her breath.

Wooyoung smiled as it reached his eyes, he pulled out a iridescent pearl necklace that shine brightly. Wooyoung placed the necklace around her neck, Yn gasped as she felt the weight of the iridescent pearl necklace settle around her neck. The cool, smooth pearls brushed against her skin, and the moment the clasp clicked into place, a sudden warmth enveloped her entire body. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the unmistakable sensation of her tail slowly fading, replaced by a pair of legs. The transformation was both strange and beautiful—like her entire world was shifting beneath her.

Her once shimmering tail now felt like distant memory as the magic of the necklace took hold. She stared down at her new legs, flexing them slightly as the sensation of movement in a whole new form became clearer. Her fingers brushed the pearls of the necklace, their soft glow reflecting the hope in Wooyoung's eyes.

"You did it," she whispered, her voice a little unsteady. She looked up at Wooyoung, her heart swelling with gratitude. "You actually did it."

Wooyoung’s smile widened, the joy and relief in his expression lighting up the space between them. "I said I would." His eyes were full of warmth as he gazed at her, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of them, here, in this moment.

As Yn took a few tentative steps on her new legs, she stumbled slightly, still adjusting to the unfamiliar sensation. Wooyoung reached out, steadying her, his hands gentle but strong. "Easy," he said softly, his voice filled with affection. "You’ve got this."

Yn laughed lightly, the sound of it filling the air as she gained her balance, standing tall in front of him. Her eyes sparkled with newfound wonder, looking at Wooyoung with awe and affection.

Yn threw her whole body onto Wooyoung, her arms wrapping around him tightly as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms. A joyous laugh bubbled up from her chest, the kind that she hadn’t felt in so long, and the world seemed to brighten around them. Wooyoung spun her around, the two of them twirling under the open sky, the sea breeze ruffling their hair.

Her heart soared with every spin, the excitement, the relief, and the love all mixing together in a whirlwind of happiness. Yn felt weightless in his arms, as if she were flying, her heart soaring with the freedom of the moment. Her lips parted in a soft sigh as she leaned into Wooyoung’s kiss, the warmth and tenderness of it sweeping through her like a wave. The world around them seemed to disappear—the ship, the sea, even the sky—until it was just the two of them, entwined in the embrace of their love.

Wooyoung’s hands gently cupped her face, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her cheek as he deepened the kiss. Yn melted into him, her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, feeling the strength and steadiness of him beneath her touch.

It was a kiss filled with everything they had fought for: freedom, love, and the hope of a future they could finally share together.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against one another, both of them breathless and smiling, eyes locked in a silent understanding. Yn’s heart still raced, not from fear or uncertainty, but from the sheer joy of knowing that they had crossed an impossible boundary to get to this point.

"You’re mine," Wooyoung whispered, his voice a soft promise.

"And you’re mine," Yn whispered back, her heart full.

#ateez wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x you #wooyoung angst #wooyoung x reader angst #ateez angst #angst #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung fluff

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poppedbubblgum · 1 year ago

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I read these concepts for Prime Silver by @krafterwrites and liked them so much I made designs of my own based off of them

And maybe gave them a few headcanons of my own :3

New Yoke Silver adopted the nickname “Ghost” from the citizens when he would vanish after doing a good deed. The resistance tried to recruit him on multiple occasions, but he refused, choosing to stay on his own, for better or worse. He’s not unkind, but he can get so wrapped up in his missions that it’s hard to get through to him. He has a little bunker of his own, similar to Nine, in the outskirts of the city. He only lets himself be seen when absolutely necessary, as his powers make him a major target for the council. He has the most developed skill with his powers compared to his alternates.

Spending so much time alone on his small boat means that No Place Silver (Skipper) is quite excitable when meeting anyone new. He did have a crew once, but the ship caught fire and sank, leaving him as the sole survivor on his little dinghy. That incident is why he needs the eyepatch too. While his boat does have a sail he crafted himself, he can move the boat while in the water with his powers. His powers help him survive on the open ocean where many others couldn’t, like he can simply grab fish from underwater (with marginal success) to eat. He loves to help but can sometimes go a bit overboard.

Boscage Silver (Sliver) wants to be left alone. Period. Never mind that he just stole your stuff, get within 10 feet of him and you are getting a tree flung at you. Ironically though, he’s really good friends with Mangey. He’s a man of few words, with only the occasional grunt to be heard. He’s terrified of Thorn, but prefers dealing with her to living with the other scavengers. His powers are really bright in the dim of the undergrowth, which means thorn can find him easier, so he doesn’t use them regularly, mostly for fighting and fleeing. Sometimes he disguises himself as a bush with how fluffy his head spines are.

#gosh posting is hard #I have more ideas but I’m tired rn #I hope this is comprehensible #my art #silver the hedgehog #sonic prime

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whencyclopedia · 4 months ago

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According to UNESCO, an estimated three million shipwrecks are scattered in the oceans’ deep canyons, trenches, and coral reefs and remain undiscovered. These shipwrecks preserve historical information and provide clues about how people lived in the past. The term ‘underwater cultural heritage’ refers to traces of human existence and activity found on ancient sunken ships or retrieved cargo such as bronze statues and priceless artworks. The Spanish treasure galleon, Nuestra Señora de Atocha, is the world’s most valuable shipwreck, estimated to be worth over USD 400 million. It was part of the Tierra Firme fleet of 28 ships bound for Spain from Cuba in 1622 and carried the Spanish Empire's wealth onboard – creamy pearls from Venezuela, glittering Colombian emeralds, and over 40 tons of gold and silver. The Atocha sailed into a hurricane off the coast of Key West, Florida, and sank. Its riches were discovered in 1985 by famed treasure hunter Mel Fisher (1922-1998). Thanks to virtual exhibitions and tours, you do not need diving skills to explore the oceans’ underwater cultural heritage. You can take a panoramic tour of Henry VIII of England’s (r. 1509-1547) favourite ship, the carrack Mary Rose, which sank in the English Channel during the Battle of the Solent on 19 July 1545. Want to see a 2,700-year-old Phoenician shipwreck submerged in the central Mediterranean? The virtual museum ‘Underwater Malta’ has a 3D model of the ship and app on Google Play. Fascinated to know what the wealth of the Spanish Empire looked like? Take a tour of Mel Fisher’s virtual treasures and the Atocha. There are countless virtual maritime museum displays, but let us take a look at five shipwrecks with interesting stories to tell.

#HistoryFacts #History #MaryRose #Ship #Shipwrecks #WHE

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pastel-greene · 6 months ago

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The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 - Hunger | Chapter 4

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), cannibalism (no I don’t support it but it is true to his character), and more to be added as story progresses

Word count: 7.3k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

You immersed yourself in a warm bath not long after returning to your room. Your bathtub was a large square with more than enough room in it. It could easily fit another person your size, but probably only one Sukuna, who it was likely measured after. Its large, flat edges were slightly angled to let any excess water flow back into the tub. A slatted bamboo platform went across the expanse and held a few different washing instruments as well as a small towel. You always grew up with little crates that you would bathe in if you even got to bathe. On a few jobs you had gotten to use nicer ones, but never one this nice. It was definitely a palace grade bathtub.

Your servants had asked if you required any assistance, to which you said no, and sent them off. You wanted to be alone for a minute and think about what the fuck just happened. You had just been giggling, joking, and fantasizing about the man that ripped apart your hand yesterday. And you were pretty damn sure he was doing the exact same, but why? You doubted he regretted what he did, especially since he threatened to do it again, but today he felt different. He wasn’t holding his title over you, he was just being with you. It felt like he was a completely different person and was giving you whiplash.

You sank lower into the tub until your nose barely stayed above the water. He was such an asshole. You still wanted to rip his arms off, but you also wanted to have them touch you again. You didn’t know if it was him in particular or just the fact it had been a few weeks since you had been with someone. In the weeks leading up to your departure, you had either been busy with work or working on a new technique Ieiri had come up with. The work was needed, though. As a technique, you could fully utilize it, but you were having some issues manifesting a curse that could accurately use it too. So it was good that you put in extra time experimenting with it while you were still with Shoko, but your body hated you for it all the same. Your clit still absolutely throbbing from your interaction with Sukuna. Now your joke of fucking the King started to grow meaning you never meant it to have.

You pulled your head underwater and curled up along the bottom of the tub. You shouldn’t want him. You should want to kill him for being an asshole. You always hated people that stayed with people that hurt them. It should be obvious that if someone hurts you, you shouldn’t stay within their grasp. Hell, in your opinion, you should get even with interest. Hurt them how they hurt you and then some. But you weren’t really hurt were you? You were just pissed he was so bipolar and refused to use his words when upset.

You traced along the hand he had wounded. It was like it had never happened. You didn’t even remember the pain now. It was becoming a distant memory. You pulled yourself to sit back up in the tub and looked at your hand once more before moving it to grab the towel on your tray. You folded it and used it to cushion the edge of the tub as you laid your head back. You closed your eyes and breathed in the aroma of lilacs and vanilla. The palace had so many imported scents you had never smelled before. You wondered where they got them all and how they were made. You had heard that the kingdom threw different festivals in the King’s honor that attracted a lot of merchants and wondered if they would sell them there. You bet there were all kinds of goods you normally couldn’t get your hands on sold there.

People aside, your stay at the palace was quite nice. Your food made you feel ways you never knew it could. There were so many spices you had never tasted before and so many textures you had never felt. You wanted to go to the kitchen one day and watch the chef cook. You wondered if you would be allowed to cook as well. Probably not in the Palace’s kitchen, but you weren’t above cooking outside. Although, you weren’t sure how Sukuna would feel about you setting a fire outside and cooking. It might be a very classless look for you. But realistically, you were indeed lacking class. You had never thought that you would end up where you were. You went from being an orphan sold for sex to the King’s guard. You went from being scared of the world you couldn’t see, to being able to drink in the world’s sites without trepidation. You used to beg and scrounge for food, killing when necessary. Now you had culinary masterpieces delivered to your door at least three times a day. Being here, you realized why your town was looked down upon. From the outside, it looked like a bunch of stray dogs fighting for scraps in a town that was barely standing. If you had only ever lived life like this, that would have been all you thought of it. You wouldn’t be able to understand what made it so great. But you were grateful for your past and upbringing, it allowed you to grow up without anything veiling reality. You saw the world for what it was, saw how people acted when they thought no one was watching, when they thought they were strong. Humans hated curses but failed to admit they were just as disgusting and vile as them. They refused to take credit for their part in creating them. The Mother was part of their creation, sure, but she existed in a world without curses for quite some time. Her power only grew into cursed energy when humans came along. Before she was just the darkness, a necessary opposite for light to exist. Human thoughts, their fears, dark desires, unchecked emotions, those are what opened the door for cursed energy.

After your bath, you had decided to go to the library you had recently heard of. One of the servants was kind enough to tell you about it, after hearing that you were asking about what to put on your shelves. You walked along the wooden floors towards the west wing of the castle. Simple, black chandeliers lit with Sukuna’s cursed energy, guided your path in the areas cut off from the rays of the sun. High, domed ceilings made from intricately designed tiles hung above you. Each design was bound to a square bordered by black trim and gold corners. You had seen paintings of previous palaces’ ceilings and the art displayed within greatly differed. Others often showcased aspects of nature brought to life by various colors. These were a dark red with black ink depicting scenes of terror. You didn’t have to look at all of them to know they each depicted acts of violence Sukuna prided himself on.

The door to the library was different from the door to your chambers. Yours was made of black stained wood that was divided into sections by metal bars that linked in the middle to make Sukuna’s seal. This one was made with Zelkova wood left in its natural amber color, adorned with matching knobs lining the edges, and Sukuna’s seal burned into the middle. It was quite pretty, really. You grabbed the ornate metal handle and granted yourself entry to the room beyond. You were met with a room bigger than you had expected and absolutely packed with books. It had shelves lining the perimeter as well as in rows throughout the room. There were even piles of books stacked in different open spaces tied together by red string. You hadn’t thought of Sukuna to be one to care much about reading, but you were obviously wrong.

You walked inside and started looking around. The amount of books felt a little overwhelming, some were even in languages you didn’t recognize. Underneath the books, on the edge of the shelves, there were categories carved into the wood. Currently you were in politics, which you couldn’t care less about, so you wondered out. You eventually found the science section with books ranging from anatomy to topics you had never heard of. You grabbed and looked at a few before reshelving them. Their contents either evading your comprehension or boring your interest.

Eventually, you found a book with what you were looking for. It was a book on the energy within everything and the connection between it all. Most recently, you had been working on various techniques that would allow you to morph something’s makeup just by tapping into its energy. The cursed technique you had perfected prior to leaving home allowed you touch any item and reshape it at will. You could combine and divide energies to suit whatever purpose you needed. You could even change your own energy to mirror another. Paired with your technique to slip into people’s minds, it would be a very useful infiltration tactic. You had experimented in a few different ways when trying to create a curse that could use it, but it proved to be difficult. They always ended up lacking intelligence or imagination. You had tried using your prior methods when creating intelligent curses, but it became tricky to stabilize this time since the curse would be able to fully change their own makeup. They always ended up screwing themselves up beyond repair.

While you were there you decided to look around at other topics. You got a book rooted in fantasy that seemed promising for when you got bored or wanted to escape for a little bit, and a few volumes of martial arts you hadn’t heard of.

By the time you were done, your hands were full and your servants quickly offered their hands instead. You were about to walk out when Geto entered the room. You were behind a few aisles of books, so you couldn’t see him, but you could tell he knew you were here from the way he beelined towards you. Within a few seconds he was turning into the aisle you stood in.

“Wow, I didn’t know your kind could read”, he said while walking up towards you with a smile.

“Wow, you’re openly admitting you don’t know something so common,” you joked back while giving him a very judgy once over, “talk about embarrassing.”

He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something before tongueing the inside of his cheek while smiling. He raised his hands in submission, “Got me there. So what are you reading?” He approached your servants before picking up the fantasy book you chose, which you quickly grabbed from him and hid. It one-hundred precent was a dirty little book to help you through your dry spell and you didn’t need him knowing that. He had read it before though so he knew exactly what was in the contents.

“Not really any of your business, is it,” you asked while withholding the book from him.

“I suppose not, but I will tell you that this one has better sex scenes”, he says while handing you the book he had brought in.

You cleared your throat of the slight embarrassment you felt while accepting the book he held out. “I guess I will be the judge of that.”

“I guess so,” he says while smirking at you. “How have things been? I heard you trained with the King this morning and it ended with both of you smiling. I guess all is forgiven or what?”

Your servants all suddenly became very interested in the books around them and the shelves they were on. You weren’t worried about them hearing though. You had been in their minds and knew they didn’t dare gossip about anything that involved the King.

“I don’t know. He seemed really different today, like the total polar opposite of yesterday. I am pretty sure he encouraged me to yell at him and even joked a bit with me. He might’ve been nice just to learn what I was doing and get me to teach him, though. He did threaten to dismantle my other hand, but that was about the only thing he did that matched with yesterday. His threat didn’t really seem to carry any weight behind it. Like I said, I think he was just saying stuff to get me to break formality and yell at him. Not that it really matters I guess. Trying to find out why he does the things that he does seems like a moot point.”

“You joked with the King…and he joked back,” he asks, blinking a few times.

“Yea, I didn’t know he had it in him either but it happened all the same. He seems to be full of surprises I guess”, you said as you lifted your foot behind you and used the toe of your shoe as an anchor while you rolled your ankle around.

“Well I suppose. It is definitely the first time I have heard of it. I mean I have heard of him sadistically joking with his victims, but not in a casual setting”, he says. “But I am glad things went better for you today.” He smiles at you again before awkwardly standing there looking around.

“Me too, and thank you for checking in. I appreciate the gesture. But I won’t take up anymore of your time. I am sure there is a new smutty book waiting to be read by you”, you said with a smile while straightening your back and starting out of the aisle.

“Don’t forget to let me know which one you liked better”, he shouts after you.

“Will do”, you shout back before exiting.

You spent the rest of the day reading the book on energy you had gotten. You considered reading your fantasy books to find out what scenes Geto was talking about, but you figured you should at least start the book you had originally gone for. You had gotten about a quarter of the way through before dozing off in a fitful nap.

The area around you was damp and cold. Your skin had goosebumps shaking across it as you held your knees. Your whole body hurt. Your jaw was sore from being forced open for a prolonged amount of time, your lips were swollen and scabbing over from being bitten and slapped, your wrists and shoulders hurt from being unnaturally bound for so long, your legs were sore from being pushed beyond the limits of your flexibility, and your throat burned from how many screams forced their way out of the acid stained walls.

There was movement across from where you laid. You couldn’t see anything but you could see her. It was like she was inside and outside of your mind at the same time. Her eyes were black voids that seemed to hungrily devour the light like an all consuming abyss split into two. Her jaw hung from her face, only attached by skin that was stretched taut. Inside her mouth seemed to be stained black as if a fire had burned soot stains into it. Her hair was as black as her eyes and seemed to wriggle and writhe like thousands of dark little worms suspended in the air yet forced down by gravity. She comes to you often these days. At first, you were scared of her and pushed her away. Now, you feel comfort in not being alone in your cage. She never spoke to you…not until that day.

Hands reached all over your body in the dark as men laughed. You were just an object of release for them. You weren’t human to them, what you felt didn’t matter. Your cries had died in your throat a while ago as you disassociated from your body. There you found her. Somewhere dark within your mind, she was standing with her hand reaching out. Anytime, you allowed yourself to fall inside that void that grew within you, swallowing up more and more of you with every inch it gained, you found her. Always with her hand outstretched. Always waiting patiently for the day you inevitably took it. You knew nothing would be the same if you took it. You knew you truly wouldn’t be human anymore. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Because you really fucking hated humans in all honesty.

That day you couldn’t take it anymore. All you wanted to do was stab the men around you until they weren’t even recognizable. You wanted to make them pay. To experience all of the pain and fear you felt because of them. You wanted not to be weak anymore. So you allowed the abyss to swallow you, to make you forget everything about yourself as you put your hand into hers and she smiled. Pointed teeth braised in thick black liquid peeked through her lips, the gelatinous liquid started gushing through her teeth and onto the ground as she continued to smile. You didn’t notice but your face was mirroring hers as blood flooded from your mouth. You don’t remember how it got there but you know it tasted of freedom. A taste you wanted to experience again and again.

You awoke with drool dribbling out of your mouth and pain in your neck from falling asleep at your dining table. You slowly sat up, groaning as your muscles announced their dissatisfaction with your decision. You put your hands on your lower back and pushed on it as you arched backwards. You felt pops ripple up your spine before rolling your neck to allow it to pop too. You hadn’t dreamt of that day in quite some time. The day you first used cursed energy. When you told the Mother of the girl she chuckled. She told you that cursed energy can manifest in everyone differently. Yours had built up over years of agony and inadvertently created the technique you first learned— transmutation. Your thoughts of wanting to be stronger than you were and looking like you felt mixed with the built up energy had created an evolved form of you. It was then she told you how big of a part thought played in the creation of cursed energy.

You hadn’t used that form in so long. One of the conditions for using it was to release all of the cursed energy you had stored. The more you had, the stronger the form was. You still used a decent amount of energy for general things and creating curses, but you also stored a great amount. Like any you collected from draining other sorcerers was immediately stored. There was another downside to it as well. It made you go more feral than you could control. Once you turned, you destroyed everything and everyone in your path until you depleted your energy and changed back.

The last time you used it, you blacked out for 2 weeks and turned 12 towns into utter bloodbaths. You had lost yourself in your anger and blacked out. When you had finally awoken, you were being wheeled away in a wheelbarrow full of pieces of human remains. Authorities had thought you were a dead body with how covered in blood you were. You laid in the pile you were dumped in for a few days, eating the remains around you to regain your strength. Once able, you blindly stumbled into the snow. You walked until you found a hut with a man living in it. You knocked on the door crying and told him you had been attacked and that you were blind and scared. He took you in without a second thought. Afterall, you were just a harmless child crying for your “recently lost” parents. He was so nice to you. He sat you in front of the fire and helped wipe all of the blood off of you while trying to console you. He even gave you new clothes and respectfully turned around when you went to change. But when he turned away from you a hatchet appeared in his skull. You remember the sounds he made as he fell to the floor, the fear and confusion clouding his energy as he looked up at you. You ripped the hatchet from his head and chopped him into pieces. Some of him you set up as bait for other animals, and some of him you ate when no other food was available. There, you lived a quiet life for a few months until the Mother stumbled upon you. Thinking back on it, you were a monster before she ever turned you into her spawn. Maybe that was why she chose you.

You walked towards the training grounds the next morning just as you said you would. The air was brisk with a slight chill, which was odd since it was summer. Its oddness became rationalized as you sensed Uruame’s energy in the air. You turned the corner to see them there already staring you down.

As you stepped through the archway leading into the area you could sense cursed energy rushing towards you. You jumped from where you stood and grabbed onto the ridge of the arch as the ground below you turned into ice.

“Y’know there are better ways to ask me to leave. Like with words for example”, you said with great annoyance. It was way too early for this bullshit. They better just be playing around for their sake because you were not in the mood for an actual fight.

Ice shot up from the ground, right for you. Tch. Does this asshole really think they can hit me? You pulled yourself to the realm between and watched them from it. They had surrounded themselves with ice while looking around for you. Their hands were poised and ready to attack when you appeared. Normally, you would have played with them, allowed them to feel like they had a chance of winning before squashing them like the bug they were. Not today. Not after being stuck in memory lane last night. You were hungry for blood, it had been days since you killed. Days full of you taking hits and putting up with bullshit you shouldn’t have to.

You appeared in front of them, their sad blockade of ice shattering from the force of your energy being unleashed. Your hand shot to their throat, fingertips digging into the skin as you lifted them from the ground. Their eyes widen as they told their ice to impale and shred you, but it didn't listen. Your energy was already flooding their body and taking control of their technique. They could feel it. They started letting out screams as their own technique bloomed inside their blood. It tore through vessels and skin as the shards of ice grew.

“I told you to use your words. Now why did you—“, you felt Sukuna’s hand about to grab but you pushed him away with your energy.

You turned from Uruame to see Geto by where you entered, the ice still on the ground spiking upwards. Sukuna landed on his feet after being repelled and looked fucking pissed.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, BRAT?”, he screamed at you as he started pushing against the force field around you. His steps were small and slow, but they continue towards you all the same.

“ME? YOUR ASSHOLE SERVANT ATTACKED ME AND WOULDN’T RESPOND WHEN I ASKED WHY!”, you screamed back at him.

“I don’t think she is lying, King Sukuna. Her trail puts her here and jumping up there before appearing where she is now. I think we should all just calm down and talk about this”, he said while trying to diffuse the situation.

Sukuna looks at Geto and the ice he was referring to. He didn’t think you would attack Uruame without being provoked, but he didn’t know why Uruame would attack you either. He knew they didn’t like you but they had never acted without permission before. “(Y/N) let Uruame go so we can settle this”.

You looked at him then back at Uruame. They were bleeding from multiple places where the ice had torn through them, and one of their eyes was just a frozen ball waiting to shatter. You wanted to finish the job. Wanted to see their insides splayed open for you like a present.

“(Y/N), please”, Geto said as he looked at you with pleading eyes.

You rolled your eyes and sighed before releasing Uruame to fall to the ground. The ice dissipated and your barrier dropped. Sukuna appeared between the two of you in an instant. You gave you a look radiating murder before bending down to Uruame’s level.

“Did you start this”, he asked while propping them up.

“They aren’t good for you. You haven’t been yourself since you heard about them. You had me stalk them for months before finally summoning them. And now you allow their insolence and disrespect. We know nothing about her or what she is and yet you welcome her into your palace and allow her to roam free. She—“, Sukuna slammed their head into the ground.

Geto winced at the sight of his comrade’s skull getting smashed, but you smiled. The sight and sound his skull made as Sukuna crushed it lit a fire deep within you. Pesky piece of shit. You only wished it was you who got to do it.

“(Y/N)”, Sukuna said.

“Yes, King Sukuna?”

“Don’t let them die”, he said, shooting you a cold look promising similar treatment if you fail.

“Yes, King Sukuna”, you replied with a smile allowing your power to seep back into them and regenerate their wounds.

Sukuna smashed in their face with all four of his fists over and over before stomping and jumping on their body. He then began grabbing and tearing away pieces of flesh, some eaten by the mouth that had appeared on his hand. Every now and then he would even dip his head down and bite out chunks of them. He ripped off their arms and legs, watching as they regrew in an instant. He even ripped off their head before beating them with it. He looked like a wild animal as every inch of his skin became covered in blood. The display stoked that fire inside you until liquid started to pour out of your lower lips. Sukuna’s pants started to bulge as his own arousal grew from tearing apart and eating his friend. His insults and the sound of Uruame’s flesh squelching and bones snapping filled the air. Blood pooled around you like an ever growing river. This goes on for at least an hour and neither you nor Geto moved an inch. You both watched what happened to people the King actually likes when they cross him. Normally, it was Sukuna healing them while beating them. Now that he didn’t have to bother with it he was going all out.

His assault finally comes to an end and he just stares down with disdain at Uruame before looking at you. He walked over to you and gripped your jaw with his bloody hands. “Geto, take Uruame and leave. No one is allowed to enter this area until I say otherwise. Go. Now.”

Geto briefly looked at you before picking up Uruame and quickly leaving the area.

As soon as they’re gone, Sukuna started petting your hair with one hand, another still gripping your chin, one holding your hip with his thumb rubbing patterns into it, and the last one on the small of your back. “You did such a good job keeping them alive for me. I never had so much fun torturing someone. They all would’ve died somewhere in the middle of it when I stopped concentrating on healing them”, he said while looking you in the eyes.

“What did they mean when they said you stalked me for months”, you asked as you rested your hands on his forearms.

He sighed and looked down for a minute. “It wasn’t in a weird way. I just wanted to know if you were the real deal. I had heard of a sorcerer not restrained by technique that worked as a contract killer. I wanted to see what all you could do and when I was confident you were strong, I had Geto go retrieve you. But I still needed to see for myself, so that’s why I sparred with you in the throne room. But you proved your worth to me”.

He pulled you close to him, his face hovering over yours. “You proved you were made for me. Made to be able to take my strength, made to empower me, made to show me my potential in cursed energy, made for me to bite, made to challenge me.”

His lips were right against yours now. Even through all of Uruame’s blood you could smell his scent. Your eyes flickered between his as your pulse quickened from the unfolding moment. You could feel his dick pressing against your abdomen from how close you were, making both of your breaths grow short and quick. You knew this was crazy. He was covered in blood and still had pieces of flesh in his teeth. Not to mention you were pretty sure you hated him. But none of that seemed to matter at the moment. You trailed your hands up his forearms, blood coating them as they slid across his skin until you reached the back of his neck. You ran your nails across his nape and he pressed his forehead against yours while letting out a groan.

“Show me how you’re made for me. Prove to me that you're worthy of me. Make me yours”, you whisper against his lips while drawing shapes on his nape. “Please Sukuna.”

The noise that leaves his throat from you begging him is so low and guttural it sounds like it belongs to the hells. His arms lift you up to wrap around his waist as his mouth crashes into yours. His teeth nip and bite at your lips and tongue before sucking on them. You moan into the kiss as your mouth follows in suit and your hips roll into him. Your hands pull him closer to you but its not enough. There’s still too much in between you. Normally you would enjoy slowly undressing him and teasing each part of his body as its revealed but you were wayyy past going slow. The next minute you feel his skin bare of clothes and against yours. You push your breasts flush against his chest, blood coating them, and moan at the sensation it gives your nipples.

“My naughty girl, who gave you permission to undress your King”, he says while pulling your hair back to get a good look at you.

The force he pulled your head with was enough to rip anyone else’s off, but there yours was moaning out in pleasure from it. “I did. You were taking too long, Sukuna”, you said before gasping as you finally looked down. “You-you have two”, you asked in shock. Although you really shouldn’t be shocked since he has two of everything else. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the thought of him burying them inside you. Fucking your insides until they molded to his shape.

He laughs at your cute little question before slapping you right in the face once and then once on your left ass cheek which provokes a stuttered moan from your throat. “Such a fucking brat talking to me like that”, he says before he shoves one of his fingers into your mouth and grabs your right breast. His mouth appearing and biting on your nipple, making you moan again for him. He slaps your ass in the same spot and this time it is so hard that the sound echoes throughout the premises. The pain shooting through your body makes you scream as your cum drips onto him. Blood dribbles from where your skin broke and you bite his finger. Not completely off but enough that you’re lapping up a mix of his and Uruame’s blood. “Talking to me so casually—“ he slaps it again,”biting my fucking finger—“ another slap has blood absolutely gushing from the spot and tears swelling in your eyes. You decide to get even and bite his finger clean off letting him watch you swallow it. A piece of him inside you. You then suckled on the nub left behind while giving him a bloody smirk.

He groans at the sight as his finger regrows back in your mouth. Fucking hell he didn’t think he had ever seen something so hot. You literally just ate a piece of him because he made your ass bleed. He starts laughing before turning you around and slamming you down into Uruame’s blood. The side of your head and neck cracked from the force of the impact before healing immediately. The crack in the stone remained, though. Your ass hung in the air as his cocks rubbed against it.

“Crazy bitch you really just ate my fucking finger”, he says with awe in his voice. You try to push yourself up but the hand tangled in your hair keeps your face firmly planted down. He couldn’t have you running away, he was just about to finally taste you. “Keep your head down and I will touch you where you want me to, but if you move it I swear to god I will bite your clit off.”

“Please ‘kuna. I’ll be good just please touch me”, you whined out shamelessly. You could feel your slick dripping out of your cunt into the pool of blood. Your body was so needy for his touch it was driving your mind insane.

Again with your informalness he thought. He would correct you if your voice whining out his name didn’t drive him animalistic. He released your head and got down behind your ass. You were so fucking wet for him. He reached his finger out to gather some of your cum and your ass twitched immediately. So sensitive for him. “Stay still, brat”, he warned. Two of his hands grabbed your ass while the other two reached under you and tugged on your tits, fingers pinching and pulling on your nipples. Wispy little whimpers flew out of your mouth but you were good and stayed still for him.

He licked a stripe from your clit to your asshole that had your eyes rolling and a whine coming out. He gave you a few more long, slow licks before plunging his tongue into your pussy.

“Yes, fuck, Kuna, yes just like that”, you moaned out as he stretched you open with his tongue. It took all of your control to keep from rolling your hips into his face. “Mmm Kuna feels s’good. Makes me want to ride your face until you’re drowning in my juices.”

Fuck that would be so hot. He wanted to make you cum until you were a fountain for him. He let a groan rumble out inside which had your walls squeezing hard around his tongue. God you were taking his tongue so well, squeezing it and trying to pull it deeper inside you. He couldn’t wait to feel you do that around his cocks. He removed his tongue from your sopping pussy which made you whine before he started licking your ass. You started panting at the sensation, pussy clenching at the lack of attention which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He stuck a blood soaked finger into you, and at the same time, forced his tongue into your ass. Stars took over your vision as your toes curled up. He worked both of them in sync before summoning his mouth to assault your clit too. You started screaming out his name as your thighs began to shake from the overload of pleasure. He added another finger to your pussy and one to your ass and started spreading you, preparing you for his cocks. He knew you would be able to take all 10 girthy inches and still beg for more. That’s because you were made for him. Made to be able to endure whatever sadistic fantasies he had. His perfect girl. He started licking off the blood that was still on your ass and groaned from the feeling that washed over him while he fucked your holes with his fingers and second mouth. He couldn’t wait much longer.

He took his fingers out of you before crawling over you, pushing you down with his body. His free hands pulled your ass apart to help spread your holes for him as he positoned his cocks against them. You could feel that the size was too big but you didn’t care. You would adjust and take him. You wanted it so bad. His face was beside your ear, one of his hands moved the hair away from your neck as he peppered kisses along it. “It’s going to hurt pretty girl, but you can take it. I know you can. I’m not going to be gentle because I know you can,” he said in between kisses and then he was in. It felt like you were splitting into two as you screamed out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He was slamming into you at a brutal pace just like he promised as he rested his head against your turned cheek. Before long, you were arching your body into him and meeting his thrusts as you both let out absolutely feral noises from the sensations. You were so fucking full you felt like you were going to burst, you could feel him pushing against your cervix and ripping open your asshole but it felt amazing. You didn’t want it to ever stop. You wanted him to fill you up like this forever. It was so warm under him and the sounds your blood covered bodies made when they slapped together was beautiful. You could hear him panting, groaning, and growling above your ear as he used you. But it wasn’t enough, you wanted more.

“Kuna-ah-ahh wan it deeper. Wanna watch you go inside me. Want you to mark me while your tear up my insides pleaseee”, you said as your vision blurred from the blood seeping into your eye that was against the ground.

How could he say no to such a request? Without missing a beat he pulled out, flipped you over, grabbed under your thighs to bend you in half, and resumed his brutal pace. His cocks now reached even deeper spots inside you. His tip went through your cervix as you screamed and tears started falling from your eyes.

“Kun gon cum, please, wan cum on your cocks, sssukuunaaa”, you begged in broken moans as your body started spasming. Your holes clenching around him so tight he broke the stone under you with his fist to keep himself from cumming.

“Cum for me brat, cover my cocks with your slutty fucking cum”, he said as he put his hand around your throat and squeezed. You body was shaking so hard he had to hold your hips with two hands so he could keep fucking into you. His own orgasm creeping up right behind yours as your holes started milking him for all he was worth, as if begging him for his cum. He pushed your mouth open with his fingers, blood smearing across your face as he did, and spit inside it before slapping you. You clenched even harder as you started cumming around him again from the defiling act, your eyes rolling back from the overstimulation. He bit your neck as he finally poured his cum into you. Long ropes of white splashing against your walls and pooling inside of your holes. Your holes that were too tight around him for his cum to escape. You could feel as it began to accumulate inside of you. Making your insides stretch further to take it all without tearing. Pain radiated from your neck as he drank from you. Your blood restoring his stamina as his cocks got even harder inside of you. It made your mind go completely blank as incessant moans poured from your mouth.

He pulled his teeth from your skin and licked the area, tasting you and Uruame as he cleaned it. He took a few breaths before moving himself over your face. You were looking at him through blurry eyes completely glazed over with lust. He brushed your hair out of your sweaty, blood covered face as he showered you with kisses. His hips started moving in slow controlled strokes. Letting you both feel every single sensation in greater detail. You could feel exactly where he was inside you and how your insides closed in his absence only for him to open them right back up when he sank back inside you. You held onto his arms as he kissed you. When he pulled his head back you both looked down to watch how he slid in and out of you. His cocks were covered in your blood and both your cum. You wrapped your legs around him and moved your arms up to run through his hair. Lightly tugging on some spots, and running your nails over others. The sensation had him melting into you. He had never been touched like this, never let anyone. And he sure as hell had never fucked anyone like this. But with how heightened his senses were from drinking your blood, he didn’t think he could go any faster without immediately cumming. And he wanted this to last. He felt so connected to you like this. He could feel the energy in both of your bodies swirling together. Dancing around each other before intertwining into one. When they did, he started to feel everything you felt. Your pleasure seeped into him as his seeped into you. He never believed in heaven, but if it existed, this was it.

You leaned your head up as you pulled on him for extra stability and started kissing along his jaw. “I wanna be in your lap Sukuna.”

“Okay, pretty girl”, he said as he lifted you up on top of him. No rebuttal, no anger, just compliance. In that, moment, he just wanted to make you feel good.

Your chests were pressed together and your hands rested on his shoulders as you rolled your hips across his lengths. His hands cradled your back and face, his thumbs rubbing patterns on both. Foreheads pressed together as you both watched you ride him. Only stopping to kiss each other or mark each other’s necks. Marks you both held off on healing for the time being. You started teasing him by pulling him out to just the tips and twirling your hips around them.

“That’s no fair, I don’t remember teasing you like that”, he said with a very uncharacteristic pout.

“I guess I am just a bit meaner than you then, hmm?”

“Ohohohh is that so now?”

“Yes, it is”, you said before kissing him.

He kissed you back while rubbing his thumb along your jaw, “Brat.”

You two fucked the day away in that spot. The spot where you had watched him tear apart his subordinate right before. By the time you two were done, there wasn’t a single spot of skin not covered in their blood.

Notes: …don’t judge me for this chapter ikik shhh. Extras v v

- So when using positive energy or reversed energy, there are times where it doesn’t work because the two people are not compatible. Know this, it would be easy to assume there are some people who have energies that are very compatible. Sukuna is obviously a sorcerer like no other, but so is the reader. They are the only two on their level, which draws them closer. Their crazies match each other. Is it toxic? Again, yes this is Sukuna. But with their personalities, it would be wild for it not to be at least a little toxic.

- Sukuna had recently learned to truly feel his innate energy and not just his cursed energy which are very different. In this chapter when he drinks from the reader, it opens a connection between the two innate energies, one that he couldn’t feel before. It allowed them to both feel everything about each other and genuinely experience connection. This doesn’t happen anytime he ingests someone, it only happens because their energies are the same. Sukuna was originally talking out of his ass about the reader being made for him to make them feel special and delude them. He only partially believed they were that useful to him. But after connecting with them, he fully believes it. He will still be a bipolar asshole though because he doesn’t know any different. Yet.

- Sukuna was pissed at Uruame but would actually consider their punishment to be light. It only lasted for an hour and they’re perfectly fine now. He would punish anyone this violently for genuinely crossing him, especially the reader. It would actually be wore for them because he needs them to be good and listen to him. He needs them in general which means they need to not be undermining him. It would be embarrassing for him if they constantly did it so he would take his time upon the first incident. Making sure they remembered it and wouldn’t act out again. And the whole time he’d tell them how much he cared about them and was doing this so that they could be better.

Taglist: @missroro

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spoonguy · 2 months ago

Text

Light Underwater

Pairing: Deep-sea Aquatic Alien x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Your spaceship crashes on an ocean planet and an alien rescues you.

Work count: 1.6k

Content Warnings: Thalassophobia, claustrophobia, emetophobia, light yandere themes

They couldn't get over how soft you felt, how warm you were to the touch, the fine hairs coating your skin. The feeling of you was completely alien to them, unlike anything on their planet. Reveling in the feeling, they pulled you closer, flush against their gelatinous body, and enveloped you in countless tendrils. You hummed and traced a finger lazily across their membrane, watching the bioluminescent trail that followed. They mirrored your humming, with an almost sing-song cadence, and cascades of warm, orange light rippled throughout their body. The tide pool you were reclining in was warmer than any back on your home planet, and the air was muggy and hot, so you couldn't say you didn't enjoy the feeling of their smooth, cool skin.

When you first crash landed, the air was nearly too thick to breathe, but by now your lungs were mostly accommodating for the lack of oxygen. You inhaled another deep, measured breath and sank further into the embrace of your rescuer. The water was salty, but nowhere near the oceans of the Earth. You could even drink it without becoming dehydrated, and you were even beginning to acclimate to the strange aftertaste. The air above the water level was humid, and thick clouds of fog hung in the sky, obscuring any chance you had of seeing the stars from here.

You felt so relaxed here, with them by your side. You had been afraid at first, but who could blame you. They revealed to you that you had frightened them just as much. They were so foreign, so outside of your concept of what life could look like, that your brain had short-circuited the first time you laid eyes on them. The closest thing you could liken them to was a jellyfish, but the similarities stopped at their gelatinous form and flowing tendrils. No jelly you had ever seen glowed with the same warmth, no animal moved with such grace. You had never heard anything like their call, the layered tones and the way the sound reverberated in your chest when they held you next to them, it was angelic.

Their real name was an incomprehensible blend of burbles, hums, and clicks, but they seemed happy enough when you called them by your best approximation, Qila. They had picked a name for you, also, a wavering, melodic hum layered with the sound of a bubbling stream. Their native language was so beautiful, it almost made you forget about the oppressive, dark world that would surely kill you if you stepped out of Qila’s protective grasp.

Your ship had crash-landed, either weeks or months ago, you couldn’t say, leaving you stranded miles below the water’s surface. For three gut-wrenching hours, you recorded your final goodbyes on your ship’s black box, on the Hail Mary hope that someone found your wreckage, watching the oxygen levels slowly diminish, until a pair of tendrils wormed their way around the seams of the airlock and pulled you to safety. They had arrived shortly thereafter to investigate the noises, only to have their echolocating clicks drowned out by the panicked beating of your heart. It was so strong, so full of life and hope, that they couldn’t help but pull you up to shore just to see what you were.

A few of the more prehensile tendrils wrapped around your waist and pulled you gently towards the underside of their gelatinous body. Qila pulled you into an air-filled pocket they had formed inside themself so you could travel with them. They had learned to line the tiny space with glowing fluorescent algae from above the water’s surface so you could see. While strange, you seemed to panic in the dark, and they preferred you calm and stable. The plant seemed to do an acceptable job converting your expelled carbon dioxide to breathable oxygen, but you couldn't go more than an hour before you got light-headed. Qila seemed to pick up on your lethargy whenever this happened and was sure to surface shortly after.

The ride to their cave was mostly uneventful, albeit slow. Qila seemed even more vulnerable to pressure changes than you were, ascending at a snail’s pace. They liked to maintain their concentration on the ascent, so you spent the long minute in silence. The view was less than spectacular and partially obscured through their translucent skin, inky black darkness stretching out for eternity, broken up only by the occasional plankton or free-floating aquatic plant.

You floated for what felt like ages towards the photic zone, arriving finally at the rocky outcropping that housed their cave. It was always a relief when the opening of their cave came into view, decorated with glowing multicolored algae and various aquatic plants. Glancing around, the only thing you could see besides the rocks, was the open ocean.

Quickly, you slipped back out through their permeable skin and swam towards what could be considered your room. It was closer to a pantry than anything, housing materials that could not be stored in water. The walls were coated in the same glowing algae that made it possible to breathe inside of Qila’s body, but the greater quantity allowed you to stay here indefinitely. You pulled yourself up onto a ledge, careful not to knock over onto the neatly stacked cubes of salts, sugars, and other soluble minerals, wrapped in hydrophobic coatings.

You turned back to Qila, watching as the vesicle you had traveled in slowly healed itself, closing over until you could no longer see any break in their outer membrane. Only the very top of their bell-shaped body broke the surface of the water; the rest of their form and the thirty or so feet of tentacles below them were submerged, well past the extent of your vision. They bobbed gently in the water and let out a series of clicks undercut by a high-pitched buzzing.

Healthy, question? A single thought resonated in your head, the product of the translation device embedded in your auditory cortex.

“I’ll be fine, just a little winded. Give me a second,” you said in between labored breaths, falling back into the fluffy moss.

You weren’t sure if they could actually understand the individual words you were saying, but they seemed to be able to pick up the meaning through your tone. “Can I get some food, though? I’m getting pretty hungry.”

Wait, command. Will return. Qila disappeared below the still water, leaving you in partial darkness without their bioluminescence. You sat in unlit silence for only a few minutes, listening to the periodic drips of condensation falling back to break the still surface of the water. They returned soon after with a dozen or so spheres embedded in their skin, each holding a different plant or animal.

The first sphere they offered to you held what looked like a crustacean. You peeled open the sphere and pulled out what might have been an arm or leg, encased in a thick black carapace. The shell was easier to remove than you expected, pulling it off in fragmented chunks, which you set beside you in a pile.

Discard, question?

“The shell—I think that’s what it is, at least—is too sharp for me to swallow. It will hurt my mouth.”

You sniffed the meat and decided that it smelled close enough to crab that it was probably safe enough to eat. A tiny nibble let you know that the taste was at least palatable, but a little sour.

Acceptable, question?

“Yeah, for now. Let’s wait to see if I get sick, though.”

The other spheres held food that Qila and you had already vetted through trial and error. Who would have thought you could get food poisoning from seaweed? But the purple kelp-looking leaves had left you vomiting and feverish for days. After that, Qila had become extra cautious in monitoring you for symptoms of food intolerance.

“Thank you; I appreciate it,” you said between bites of alien fish.

Qila vocalized happily.

“I appreciate you, also. I would have died without your help.”

Presence enjoyable. Alone before, partner now. Happy, exclamation!

“Partner?” you questioned.

Singing partner. Thoughts sharing.

“Like a friend?”

Qila was quiet for a while before they responded.

Unsure.

“Qila, are there others like you?”

Far away. Inaccessible.

“You can’t see them?”

Correct. Population overexpanded. Exiled.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” You placed a hand along their body.

Request, question?

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Sing, question? Together, question? Qila let out a tentative hum.

“Of course. Um, what do you want me to sing?”

Important song. Meaningful.

“Yeah, no, I've got one.”

You started to hum the melody of your favorite song before you broke out into the first verse. Qila listened for a moment, then began to harmonize, adding percussive clicks and ethereal droning. The muted light inside them grew brighter, more brilliant, until it illuminated the whole cave. Each note their produce lit up different spots on their skin, only to fade as the sound faded. As you came to the end of the last line, you let your voice trail off, and the echoes grew quieter until they were inaudible.

Qila was glowing; mesmerizing swirls of bioluminescence cast warm light throughout the dark cave. They continued to murmur bits and pieces of the melody that had stuck with them.

Request, question?

“Anything.”

Stay. Here.

“You know I can’t exactly leave. My ship was destroyed in the crash.”

Unimportant. Promise, command.

“Absolutely.”

The wave of light that radiated off of Qila was so bright it hurt your eyes. They warbled joyful melodies, only parts of which your translator could pick up.

Happiness. Companion. Here. Together. Always.

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