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rhetoricandlogic · 1 year ago

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The Martian Obelisk

The Martian Obelisk - Linda Nagata

The end of the world required time to accomplish—and time, Susannah reflected, worked at the task with all the leisurely skill of a master torturer, one who could deliver death either quickly or slowly, but always with excruciating pain.

No getting out of it.

But there were still things to do in the long, slow decline; final gestures to make. Susannah Li-Langford had spent seventeen years working on her own offering-for-the-ages, with another six and half years to go before the Martian Obelisk reached completion. Only when the last tile was locked into place in the obelisk’s pyramidal cap, would she yield.

Until then, she did what was needed to hold onto her health, which was why, at the age of eighty, she was out walking vigorously along the cliff trail above the encroaching Pacific Ocean, determined to have her daily exercise despite the brisk wind and the freezing mist that ran before it. The mist was only a token moisture, useless to revive the drought-stricken coastal forest, but it made the day cold enough that the fishing platforms at the cliff’s edge were deserted, leaving Susannah alone to contemplate the mortality of the human world.

It was not supposed to happen like this. As a child she’d been promised a swift conclusion: duck and cover and nuclear annihilation. And if not annihilation, at least the nihilistic romance of a gun-toting, leather-clad, fight-to-the-death anarchy.

That hadn’t happened either.

Things had just gotten worse, and worse still, and people gave up. Not everyone, not all at once—there was no single event marking the beginning of the end—but there was a sense of inevitability about the direction history had taken. Sea levels rose along with average ocean temperatures. Hurricanes devoured coastal cities and consumed low-lying countries. Agriculture faced relentless drought, flood, and temperature extremes. A long run of natural disasters made it all worse—earthquakes, landslides, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions. There had been no major meteor strike yet, but Susannah wouldn’t bet against it. Health care faltered as antibiotics became useless against resistant bacteria. Surgery became an art of the past.

Out of the devastation, war and terrorism erupted like metastatic cancers.

We are a brilliant species, Susannah thought. Courageous, creative, generous—as individuals. In larger numbers we fail every time.

There were reactor meltdowns, poisoned water supplies, engineered plagues, and a hundred other, smaller horrors. The Shoal War had seen nuclear weapons used in the South China Sea. But even the most determined ghouls had failed to ignite a sudden, brilliant cataclysm. The master torturer would not be rushed.

Still, the tipping point was long past, the future truncated. Civilization staggered on only in the lucky corners of the world where the infrastructure of a happier age still functioned. Susannah lived in one of those lucky corners, not far from the crumbling remains of Seattle, where she had greenhouse food, a local network, and satellite access all supplied by her patron, Nathaniel Sanchez, who was the money behind the Martian Obelisk.

When the audio loop on her ear beeped a quiet tone, she assumed the alert meant a message from Nate. There was no one else left in her life, nor did she follow the general news, because what was the point?

She tapped the corner of her wrist-link with a finger gloved against the cold, signaling her personal AI to read the message aloud. Its artificial, androgynous voice spoke into her ear:

“Message sender: Martian Obelisk Operations. Message body: Anomaly sighted. All operations automatically halted pending supervisory approval.”

Just a few innocuous words, but weighted with a subtext of disaster.

A subtext all too familiar.

For a few seconds, Susannah stood still in the wind and the rushing mist. In the seventeen-year history of the project, construction had been halted only for equipment maintenance, and that, on a tightly regulated schedule. She raised her wrist-link to her lips. “What anomaly, Alix?” she demanded, addressing the AI. “Can it be identified?”

“It identifies as a homestead vehicle belonging to Red Oasis.”

That was absurd. Impossible.

Founded twenty-one years ago, Red Oasis was the first of four Martian colonies, and the most successful. It had outlasted all the others, but the Mars Era had ended nine months ago when Red Oasis succumbed to an outbreak of “contagious asthma”—a made-up name for an affliction evolved on Mars.

Since then there had been only radio silence. The only active elements on the planet were the wind, and the machinery that had not yet broken down, all of it operated by AIs.

“Where is the vehicle?” Susannah asked.

“Seventeen kilometers northwest of the obelisk.”

So close!

How was that possible? Red Oasis was over 5,000 kilometers distant. How could an AI have driven so far? And who had given the order?

Homestead vehicles were not made to cover large distances. They were big, slow, and cumbersome—cross-country robotic crawlers designed to haul equipment from the landing site to a colony’s permanent location, where construction would commence (and ideally be completed) long before the inhabitants arrived. The vehicles had a top speed of fifteen kilometers per hour which meant that even with the lightspeed delay, Susannah had time to send a new instruction set to the AIs that inhabited her construction equipment.

Shifting abruptly from stillness to motion, she resumed her vigorous pace—and then she pushed herself to walk just a little faster.

Nathaniel Sanchez was waiting for her, pacing with a hobbling gait on the front porch of her cottage when she returned. His flawless electric car, an anomaly from another age, was parked in the gravel driveway. Nate was eighty-five and rail-thin, but the electric warmth of his climate-controlled coat kept him comfortable even in the biting wind. She waved at him impatiently. “You know it’s fine to let yourself in. I was hoping you’d have coffee brewing by now.”

He opened the door for her, still a practitioner of the graceful manners instilled in him by his mother eight decades ago—just one of the many things Susannah admired about him. His trustworthiness was another. Though Nate owned every aspect of the Martian Obelisk project—the equipment on Mars, the satellite accounts, this house where Susannah expected to live out her life—he had always held fast to an early promise never to interfere with her design or her process.

“I haven’t been able to talk to anyone associated with Red Oasis,” he told her in a voice low and resonant with age. “The support network may have disbanded.”

She sat down in the old, armless chair she kept by the door, and pulled off her boots. “Have the rights to Red Oasis gone on the market yet?”

“No.” Balancing with one hand against the door, he carefully stepped out of his clogs. “If they had, I would have bought them.”

“What about a private transfer?”

He offered a hand to help her up. “I’ve got people looking into it. We’ll find out soon.”

In stockinged feet, she padded across the hardwood floor and the hand-made carpets of the living room, but at the door of the Mars room she hesitated, looking back at Nate. Homesteads were robotic vehicles, but they were designed with cabs that could be pressurized for human use, with a life-support system that could sustain two passengers for many days. “Is there any chance some of the colonists at Red Oasis are still alive?” Susannah asked.

Nate reached past her to open the door, a dark scowl on his worn face. “No detectable activity and radio silence for nine months? I don’t think so. There’s no one in that homestead, Susannah, and there’s no good reason for it to visit the obelisk, especially without any notice to us that it was coming. When my people find out who’s issuing the orders we’ll get it turned around, but in the meantime, do what you have to do to take care of our equipment.”

Nate had always taken an interest in the Martian Obelisk, but over the years, as so many of his other aspirations failed, the project had become more personal. He had begun to see it as his own monument and himself as an Ozymandias whose work was doomed to be forgotten, though it would not fall to the desert sands in this lifetime or any other.

“What can I do for you, Susannah?” he had asked, seventeen years ago.

A long-time admirer of her architectural work, he had come to her after the ruin of the Holliday Towers in Los Angeles—her signature project—two soaring glass spires, one eighty-four floors and the other 104, linked by graceful sky bridges. When the Hollywood Quake struck, the buildings had endured the shaking just as they’d been designed to do, keeping their residents safe, while much of the city around them crumbled. But massive fires followed the quake and the towers had not survived that.

“Tell me what you dream of, Susannah. What you would still be willing to work on.”

Nathaniel had been born into wealth, and through the first half of his life he’d grown the family fortune. Though he had never been among the wealthiest individuals of the world, he could still indulge extravagant fancies.

The request Susannah made of him had been, literally, outlandish.

“Buy me the rights to the Destiny Colony.”

“On Mars?” His tone suggested a suspicion that her request might be a joke.

“On Mars,” she assured him.

Destiny had been the last attempt at Mars colonization. The initial robotic mission had been launched and landed, but money ran out and colonists were never sent. The equipment sat on Mars, unused.

Susannah described her vision of the Martian Obelisk: a gleaming, glittering white spire, taking its color from the brilliant white of the fiber tiles she would use to construct it. It would rise from an empty swell of land, growing more slender as it reached into the sparse atmosphere, until it met an engineering limit prescribed by the strength of the fiber tiles, the gravity of the Red Planet, and by the fierce ghost-fingers of Mars’ storm winds. Calculations of the erosional force of the Martian wind led her to conclude that the obelisk would still be standing a hundred thousand years hence and likely far longer. It would outlast all buildings on Earth. It would outlast her bloodline, and all bloodlines. It would still be standing long after the last human had gone the way of the passenger pigeon, the right whale, the dire wolf. In time, the restless Earth would swallow up all evidence of human existence, but the Martian Obelisk would remain—a last monument marking the existence of humankind, excepting only a handful of tiny, robotic spacecraft faring, lost and unrecoverable, in the void between stars.

Nate had listened carefully to her explanation of the project, how it could be done, and the time that would be required. None of it fazed him and he’d agreed, without hesitation, to support her.

The rights to the colony’s equipment had been in the hands of a holding company that had acquired ownership in bankruptcy court. Nathaniel pointed out that no one was planning to go to Mars again, that no one any longer possessed the wealth or resources to try. Before long, he was able to purchase Destiny Colony for a tiny fraction of the original backers’ investment.

When Susannah received the command codes, Destiny’s homestead vehicle had not moved from the landing site, its payload had not been unpacked, and construction on its habitat had never begun. Her first directive to the AI in charge of the vehicle was to drive it three hundred kilometers to the site she’d chosen for the obelisk, at the high point of a rising swell of land.

Once there, she’d unloaded the fleet of robotic construction equipment: a mini-dozer, a mini-excavator, a six-limbed beetle cart to transport finished tiles, and a synth—short for synthetic human although the device was no such thing. It was just a stick figure with two legs, two arms, and hands capable of basic manipulation.

The equipment fleet also included a rolling factory that slowly but continuously produced a supply of fiber tiles, compiling them from raw soil and atmospheric elements. While the factory produced an initial supply of tiles, Susannah prepared the foundation of the obelisk, and within a year she began to build.

The Martian Obelisk became her passion, her reason for life after every other reason had been taken from her. Some called it a useless folly. She didn’t argue: what meaning could there be in a monument that would never be seen directly by human eyes? Some called it graffiti: Kilroy was here! Some called it a tombstone and that was the truth too.

Susannah just called it better-than-nothing.

The Mars room was a circular extension that Nathaniel had ordered built onto the back of the cottage when Susannah was still in the planning stages of the obelisk’s construction. When the door was closed, the room became a theater with a 360-degree floor-to-ceiling flex-screen. A high-backed couch at the center rotated, allowing easy viewing of the encircling images captured in high resolution from the construction site.

Visually, being in this room was like being at Destiny, and it did not matter at all that each red-tinted image was a still shot, because on the Red Planet, the dead planet, change came so slowly that a still shot was as good as video.

Until now.

As Susannah entered the room, she glimpsed an anomalous, bright orange spot in a lowland to the northwest. Nathaniel saw it too. He gestured and started to speak but she waved him to silence, taking the time to circle the room, scanning the entire panorama to assess if anything else had changed.

Her gaze passed first across a long slope strewn with a few rocks and scarred with wheel tracks. Brightly colored survey sticks marked the distance: yellow at 250 meters, pink at 500, green for a full kilometer, and bright red for two.

The red stick stood at the foot of a low ridge that nearly hid the tile factory. She could just see an upper corner of its bright-green, block shape. The rest of it was out of sight, busy as always, processing raw ore dug by the excavator from a pit beyond the ridge, and delivered by the mini-dozer. As the factory slowly rolled, it left a trail of tailings, and every few minutes it produced a new fiber tile.

Next in the panorama was a wide swath of empty land, more tire tracks the only sign of human influence all the way out to a hazy pink horizon. And then, opposite the door and appearing no more than twenty meters distant, was Destiny’s homestead vehicle. It was the same design as the approaching crawler: a looming cylindrical cargo container resting on dust-filled tracks. At the forward end, the cab, its windows dusty and lightless, its tiny bunkroom never used. Susannah had long ago removed the equipment she wanted, leaving all else in storage. For over sixteen years, the homestead had remained in its current position, untouched except by the elements.

Passing the Destiny homestead, her gaze took in another downward slope of lifeless desert and then, near the end of her circuit, she faced the tower itself.

The Martian Obelisk stood alone at the high point of the surrounding land, a gleaming-white, graceful, four-sided, tapering spire, already 170-meters high, sharing the sky with no other object. The outside walls were smooth and unadorned, but on the inside, a narrow stairway climbed around the core, rising in steep flights to the tower’s top, where more fiber tiles were added every day, extending its height. It was a path no human would ever walk, but the beetle cart, with its six legs, ascended every few hours, carrying in its cargo basket a load of fiber tiles. Though she couldn’t see the beetle cart, its position was marked as inside the tower, sixty percent of the way up the stairs. The synth waited for it at the top, its headless torso just visible over the rim of the obelisk’s open stack, ready to use its supple hands to assemble the next course of tiles.

All this was as expected, as it should be.

Susannah steadied herself with a hand against the high back of the couch as she finally considered the orange splash of color that was the intruding vehicle. “Alix, distance to the Red Oasis homestead?”

The same androgynous voice that inhabited her ear loop spoke now through the room’s sound system. “Twelve kilometers.”

The homestead had advanced five kilometers in the twenty minutes she’d taken to return to the cottage—though in truth it was really much closer. Earth and Mars were approaching a solar conjunction, when they would be at their greatest separation, on opposite sides of the Sun. With the lightspeed delay, even this new image was nineteen minutes old. So she had only minutes left to act.

Reaching down to brace herself against the armrest of the couch, she sat with slow grace. “Alix, give me a screen.”

A sleeve opened in the armrest and an interface emerged, swinging into an angled display in front of her.

The fires that had destroyed the Holliday Towers might have been part of the general inferno sparked by the Hollywood earthquake, but Susannah suspected otherwise. The towers had stood as a symbol of defiance amid the destruction—which might explain why they were brought low. The Martian Obelisk was a symbol too, and it had long been a target both for the media and for some of Destiny’s original backers who had wanted the landing left undisturbed, for the use of a future colonization mission that no one could afford to send.

“Start up our homestead,” Nate urged her. “It’s the only equipment we can afford to risk. If you drive it at an angle into the Red Oasis homestead, you might be able to push it off its tracks.”

Susannah frowned, her fingers moving across the screen as she assembled an instruction set. “That’s a last resort option, Nate, and I’m not even sure it’s possible. There are safety protocols in the AIs’ core training modules that might prevent it.”

She tapped send, launching the new instruction set on its nineteen-minute journey. Then she looked at Nate. “I’ve ordered the AIs that handle the construction equipment to retreat and evade. We cannot risk damage or loss of control.”

He nodded somberly. “Agreed—but the synth and the beetle cart are in the tower.”

“They’re safe in there, for now. But I’m going to move the homestead—assuming it starts. After seventeen years, it might not.”

“Understood.”

“The easiest way for someone to shut down our operation is to simply park the Red Oasis homestead at the foot of the obelisk, so that it blocks access to the stairway. If the beetle cart can’t get in and out, we’re done. So I’m going to park our homestead there first.”

He nodded thoughtfully, eyeing the image of the obelisk. “Okay. I understand.”

“Our best hope is that you can find out who’s instructing the Red Oasis homestead and get them to back off. But if that fails, I’ll bring the synth out, and use it to try to take manual control.”

“The Red Oasis group could have a synth too.”

“Yes.”

They might also have explosives—destruction was so much easier than creation—but Susannah did not say this aloud. She did not want Nate to inquire about the explosives that belonged to Destiny. Instead she told him, “There’s no way we can know what they’re planning. All we can do is wait and see.”

He smacked a frustrated fist into his palm. “Nineteen minutes! Nineteen minutes times two before we know what’s happened!”

“Maybe the AIs will work it out on their own,” she said dryly. And then it was her turn to be overtaken by frustration. “Look at us! Look what we’ve come to! Invested in a monument no one will ever see. Squabbling over the possession of ruins while the world dies. This is where our hubris has brought us.” But that was wrong, so she corrected herself. “My hubris.”

Nate was an old man with a lifetime of emotions mapped on his well-worn face. In that complex terrain it wasn’t always easy to read his current feelings, but she thought she saw hurt there. He looked away, before she could decide. A furtive movement.

“Nate?” she asked in confusion.

“This project matters,” he insisted, gazing at the obelisk. “It’s art, and it’s memory, and it does matter.”

Of course. But only because it was all they had left.

“Come into the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll make coffee.”

Nate’s tablet chimed while they were still sitting at the kitchen table. He took the call, listened to a brief explanation from someone on his staff, and then objected. “That can’t be right. No. There’s something else going on. Keep at it.”

He scowled at the table until Susannah reminded him she was there. “Well?”

“That was Davidson, my chief investigator. He tracked down a Red Oasis shareholder who told him that the rights to the colony’s equipment had not been traded or sold, that they couldn’t be, because they had no value. Not with a failed communications system.” His scowl deepened. “They want us to believe they can’t even talk to the AIs.”

Susannah stared at him. “But if that’s true—”

“It’s not.”

“Meaning you don’t want it to be.” She got up from the table.

“Susannah—”

“I’m not going to pretend, Nate. If it’s not an AI driving that homestead, then it’s a colonist, a survivor—and that changes everything.”

She returned to the Mars room, where she sat watching the interloper’s approach. The wall screen refreshed every four minutes as a new image arrived from the other side of the sun. Each time it did, the bright orange homestead jumped a bit closer. It jumped right past the outermost ring of survey sticks, putting it less than two kilometers from the obelisk—close enough that she could see a faint wake of drifting dust trailing behind it, giving it a sense of motion.

Then, thirty-eight minutes after she’d sent the new instruction set, the Destiny AI returned an acknowledgement.

Her heart beat faster, knowing that whatever was to happen on Mars had already happened. Destiny’s construction equipment had retreated and its homestead had started up or had failed to start, had moved into place at the foot of the tower or not. No way to know until time on Earth caught up with time on Mars.

The door opened.

Nate shuffled into the room.

Susannah didn’t bother to ask if Davidson had turned up anything. She could see from his grim expression that he expected the worst.

And what was the worst?

A slight smile stole onto her lips as Nate sat beside her on the couch.

The worst case is that someone has lived.

Was it any wonder they were doomed?

Four more minutes.

The image updated.

The 360-degree camera, mounted on a steel pole sunk deep into the rock, showed Destiny profoundly changed. For the first time in seventeen years, Destiny’s homestead had moved. It was parked by the tower, just as Susannah had requested. She twisted around, looking for the bright green corner of the factory beyond the distant ridge—but she couldn’t see it.

“Everything is as ordered,” Susannah said.

The Red Oasis homestead had reached the green survey sticks.

“An AI has to be driving,” Nate insisted.

“Time will tell.”

Nate shook his head. “Time comes with a nineteen minute gap. Truth is in the radio silence. It’s an AI.”

Four more minutes of silence.

When the image next refreshed, it showed the two homesteads, nose to nose.

Four minutes.

The panorama looked the same.

Four minutes more.

No change.

Four minutes.

Only the angle of sunlight shifted.

Four minutes.

A figure in an orange pressure suit stood beside the two vehicles, gazing up at the tower.

Before the Martian Obelisk, when Shaun was still alive, two navy officers in dress uniforms had come to the house, and in formal voices explained that the daughter Susannah had birthed and nurtured and shaped with such care was gone, her future collapsed to nothing by a missile strike in the South China Sea.

“We must go on,” Shaun ultimately insisted.

And they had, bravely.

Defiantly.

Only a few years later their second child and his young wife had vanished into the chaos brought on by an engineered plague that decimated Hawaii’s population, turning it into a state under permanent quarantine. Day after excruciating day as they’d waited for news, Shaun had grown visibly older, hope a dying light, and when it was finally extinguished he had nothing left to keep him moored to life.

Susannah was of a different temper. The cold ferocity of her anger had nailed her into the world. The shape it took was the Martian Obelisk: one last creative act before the world’s end.

She knew now the obelisk would never be finished.

“It’s a synth,” Nate said. “It has to be.”

The AI contradicted him. “Text message,” it announced.

“Read it,” Susannah instructed.

Alix obeyed, reading the message in an emotionless voice. “Message sender: Red Oasis resident Tory Eastman. Message body as transcribed audio: Is anyone out there? Is anyone listening? My name is Tory Eastman. I’m a refugee from Red Oasis. Nineteen days in transit with my daughter and son, twins, three years old. We are the last survivors.”

These words induced in Susannah a rush of fear so potent she had to close her eyes against a dizzying sense of vertigo. There was no emotion in the AI’s voice and still she heard in it the anguish of another mother:

“The habitat was damaged during the emergency. I couldn’t maintain what was left and I had no communications. So I came here. Five thousand kilometers. I need what’s here. I need it all. I need the provisions and I need the equipment and I need the command codes and I need the building materials. I need to build my children a new home. Please. Are you there? Are you an AI? Is anyone left on Earth? Respond. Respond please. Give me the command codes. I will wait.”

For many seconds—and many, many swift, fluttering heartbeats—neither Nate nor Susannah spoke. Susannah wanted to speak. She sought for words, and when she couldn’t find them, she wondered: am I in shock? Or is it a stroke?

Nate found his voice first: “It’s a hoax, aimed at you, Susannah. They know your history. They’re playing on your emotions. They’re using your grief to wreck this project.”

Susannah let out a long breath, and with it, some of the horror that had gripped her. “We humans are amazing,” she mused, “in our endless ability to lie to ourselves.”

He shook his head. “Susannah, if I thought this was real—”

She held up a hand to stop his objection. “I’m not going to turn over the command codes. Not yet. If you’re right and this is a hoax, I can back out. But if it’s real, that family has pushed the life support capabilities of their homestead to the limit. They can move into our vehicle—that’ll keep them alive for a few days—but they’ll need more permanent shelter soon.”

“It’ll take months to build a habitat.”

“No. It’ll take months to make the tiles to build a habitat—but we already have a huge supply of tiles.”

“All of our tiles are tied up in the obelisk.”

“Yes.”

He looked at her in shock, struck speechless.

“It’ll be okay, Nate.”

“You’re abandoning the project.”

“If we can help this family survive, we have to do it—and that will be the project we’re remembered for.”

“Even if there’s no one left to remember?”

She pressed her lips tightly together, contemplating the image of the obelisk. Then she nodded. “Even so.”

Knowing the pain of waiting, she sent a message of assurance to Destiny Colony before anything else. Then she instructed the synth and the beetle cart to renew their work, but this time in reverse: the synth would unlink the fiber tiles beginning at the top of the obelisk and the beetle would carry them down.

After an hour—after she’d traded another round of messages with a grateful Tory Eastman and begun to lay out a shelter based on a standard Martian habitat—she got up to stretch her legs and relieve her bladder. It surprised her to find Nate still in the living room. He stood at the front window, staring out at the mist that never brought enough moisture into the forest.

“They’ll be alone forever,” he said without turning around. “There are no more missions planned. No one else will ever go to Mars.”

“I won’t tell her that.”

He looked at her over his shoulder. “So you are willing to sacrifice the obelisk? It was everything to you yesterday, but today you’ll just give it up?”

“She drove a quarter of the way around the planet, Nate. Would you ever have guessed that was possible?”

“No,” he said bitterly as he turned back to the window. “No. It should not have been possible.”

“There’s a lesson for us in that. We assume we can see forward to tomorrow, but we can’t. We can’t ever really know what’s to come—and we can’t know what we might do, until we try.”

When she came out of the bathroom, Nate was sitting down in the rickety old chair by the door. With his rounded shoulders and his thin white hair, he looked old and very frail. “Susannah—”

“Nate, I don’t want to argue—”

“Just listen. I didn’t want to tell you before because, well, you’ve already suffered so many shocks and even good news can come too late.”

“What are you saying?” she said, irritated with him now, sure that he was trying to undermine her resolve.

“Hawaii’s been under quarantine because the virus can be latent for—”

She guessed where this was going. “For years. I know that. But if you’re trying to suggest that Tory and her children might still succumb to whatever wiped out Red Oasis—”

“They might,” he interrupted, sounding bitter. “But that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Then what?”

“Listen, and I’ll tell you. Are you ready to listen?”

“Yes, yes. Go ahead.”

“A report came out just a few weeks ago. The latest antivirals worked. The quarantine in Hawaii will continue for several more years, but all indications are the virus is gone. Wiped out. No sign of latent infections in over six months.”

Her hands felt numb; she felt barely able to shuffle her feet as she moved to take a seat in an antique armchair. “The virus is gone? How can they know that?”

“Blood tests. And the researchers say that what they’ve learned can be applied to other contagions. That what happened in Hawaii doesn’t ever have to happen again.”

Progress? A reprieve against the long decline?

“There’s more, Susannah.”

The way he said it—his falling tone—it was a warning that set her tired heart pounding.

“You asked me to act as your agent,” he reminded her. “You asked me to screen all news, and I’ve done that.”

“Until now.”

“Until now,” he agreed, looking down, looking frightened by the knowledge he had decided to convey. “I should have told you sooner.”

“But you didn’t want to risk interrupting work on the obelisk?”

“You said you didn’t want to hear anything.” He shrugged. “I took you at your word.”

“Nate, will you just say it?”

“You have a granddaughter, Susannah.”

She replayed these words in her head, once, twice. They didn’t make sense.

“DNA tests make it certain,” he explained. “She was born six months after her father’s death.”

“No.” Susannah did not dare believe it. It was too dangerous to believe. “They both died. That was confirmed by the survivors. They posted the IDs of all the dead.”

“Your daughter-in-law lived long enough to give birth.”

Susannah’s chest squeezed tight. “I don’t understand. Are you saying the child is still alive?”

“Yes.”

Anger rose hot, up out of the past. “And how long have you known? How long have you kept this from me?”

“Two months. I’m sorry, but . . .”

But we had our priorities. The tombstone. The Martian folly.

She stared at the floor, too stunned to be happy, or maybe she’d forgotten how. “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“And I . . . I shouldn’t have walled myself off from the world. I’m sorry.”

“There’s more,” he said cautiously, as if worried how much more she could take.

“What else?” she snapped, suddenly sure this was just another game played by the master torturer, to draw the pain out. “Are you going to tell me that my granddaughter is sickly? Dying? Or that she’s a mad woman, perhaps?”

“No,” he said meekly. “Nothing like that. She’s healthy, and she has a healthy two-year-old daughter.” He got up, put an age-marked hand on the door knob. “I’ve sent you her contact information. If you need an assistant to help you build the habitat, let me know.”

He was a friend, and she tried to comfort him. “Nate, I’m sorry. If there was a choice—”

“There isn’t. That’s the way it’s turned out. You will tear down the obelisk, and this woman, Tory Eastman, will live another year, maybe two. Then the equipment will break and she will die and we won’t be able to rebuild the tower. We’ll pass on, and the rest of the world will follow—”

“We can’t know that, Nate. Not for sure.”

He shook his head. “This all looks like hope, but it’s a trick. It’s fate cheating us, forcing us to fold our hand, level our pride, and go out meekly. And there’s no choice in it, because it’s the right thing to do.”

He opened the door. For a few seconds, wind gusted in, until he closed it again. She heard his clogs crossing the porch and a minute later she heard the crunch of tires on the gravel road.

You have a granddaughter. One who grew up without her parents, in a quarantine zone, with no real hope for the future and yet she was healthy, with a daughter already two years old.

And then there was Tory Eastman of Mars, who had left a dying colony and driven an impossible distance past doubt and despair, because she knew you have to do everything you can, until you can’t do anymore.

Susannah had forgotten that, somewhere in the dark years.

She sat for a time in the stillness, in a quiet so deep she could hear the beating of her heart.

This all looks like hope.

Indeed it did and she well knew that hope could be a duplicitous gift from the master torturer, one that opened the door to despair.

“But it doesn’t have to be that way,” she whispered to the empty room. “I’m not done. Not yet.”

#Linda Nagata #The Martian Obelisk #short story #long post #mahreviews

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reading-giraffe · 1 year ago

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Savage Hate by Amanda Richardson (Savage Hearts book 1): Review

🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Available via Amazon on Kindle Unlimited (FREE), Paperback, and Audiobook! (If you shop using my link, I'll earn a small commission at no additional cost to you. Thanks for your support 🙂)

Summary

Lennon Rose, Silas, Jude and Damon graduated from high school in small town Greythorn. Graduation night, Lennon changed Silas/Jude/Damon's life for the worse. 10 years later, Lennon comes back to Greythorn after catching her fiancee fucking his assistant from behind. She starts working as a receptionist at local tattoo studio, Savage Ink, since she has basically nothing but the clothes on her back and she's desperate for a job. She takes the job knowing it's owned by Silas, Jude, and Damon -- who happen to be three of the nation's most coveted tattoo artists. She learns the darker side of their mission and gets tangled in their tangled web of secrets, violence, and small town drama with local cult, Church of Rapture.

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Lennon Rose

I think Lennon is a very interesting character. Her parents seemingly felt like being parents when she was born but then changed their minds. They let her fend for herself for her whole life, essentially. Yes, she had access to their fortune in theory. But she didn't get any attention, love, or kindness from her parents. She claims that she ate out of garbage cans when her parents up and left on vacations.

After fleeing her shithead fiancee in NYC and a lot of therapy, Lennon enters Savage Ink studios ready to start fresh and learn other parts of her that she's suppressed out of survival instinct.

Silas/Jude/Damon

I feel like Richardson didn't really get too much into each of the men in this book all too much. Maybe Jude/Damon a bit? I'd be interested to see what the other 2 books in the series feature. Nevertheless, these men are dark and scary and HOT AS HELL!!!

Fun little fact about Jude:

...even though he has zero ink on his body, his cock is covered in tats. And there are several piercings along the top in a row, neatly spaced out. Seven. There are seven. Like a ladder.

It can be difficult to introduce 4 characters simultaneously so I expect the other books to build off of each other. Fingers crossed!

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10000000/10 WOULD RECOMMEND

Holy hell y'all the spice is off the charts!!! The scene where her ex shows up at the studio begging for her back IS IT! IT'S THE ANSWER!

Wright: What, you're going to enact revenge by fucking this guy in front of me? Lennon: No. I'm not going to fuck him. I'm going to fuck all three of them. Damon: Be quiet as we fuck the shit out of your ex-fiance, or we will find a very inconvenient place to tattoo you. 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

I know this is going to haunt him forever -- just like the image of him fucking Darcy is going to haunt me forever. Tit for tat -- except, instead of a tat, it's going to be three guys fucking me at once.

Need I say more? At 247 pages, this is a quick read that packs a goddamn punch. RUN DON'T WALK.

If you shop using my link (in the tile below), I will earn a small commission at no additional cost to you. Thanks for your support! 🙂

#books and reading #booktok #bookish #booklover #romance #romance books #contemporary romance #smut #enemies to lovers #touch her and die #dark romance #why choose #reverse harem #savage hate #savage ink #amanda richardson

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absentcaryatid · 2 years ago

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I already thought this fic was fantastic and it got even better! There is so much story here.

There are probably people out there enjoying it but too shy to attach their name to a story of this type with a like or reblog, but I am not shy about speaking up when someone makes me so happy. Others might be open to sexual fanfics but hesitant about a monster male lead. I think that audience would be pleasantly surprised how sweet and tender this couple is with each other.

The overarching adventure plot in addition to the adorable love story is what really makes this a winner to me. We get the appearance of new characters from ATEEZ too, and the hint of more to come. It has been so exciting to read updates how the story has expanded from the original plan.

This fic felt like a movie from the beginning with vivid descriptions and plenty of sensory information. The fruit eating scene this time had me drooling and pondering what some of Seonghwa's fish poached in the juices might turn out like. People who aren't asexual will probably not focus on the food so much, but I am just as satisfied as anybody else because Fie's storytelling is so interesting.

The magical elements now give me the feeling of a fairy tale- two in particular. We already had a heavy dose of Beauty and the Beast, pretty sure the tile itself is a reference to the heroine as Beauty who falls for her siren Beast Seonghwa. Now there is also a sense of The Little Mermaid too with the underwater visit to Seonghwa's homeland and more. Spoilers under the cut:

What really wowed me in this chapter is the discovery of the reader's transformation, and that Is why I love this tale. Seonghwa did not need to change and become human. She loves him as he is. Instead, we get her becoming SeaBorn, and welcomed into their community. The change was not necessary for the romance because they are comfortable with their differences, but it is going to have a tremendous impact on the revenge scene later given her developing abilities as a siren. This is so exciting!

What really works is that the heroine is offered a choice. It didn't just happen to her, she could continue with the transformation or let it wear off. With no attachment to her human life, she embraces the alteration of her body and discovers skills along with it, including knowledge of Seonghwa's language and presumably the rest of the full range of siren powers.

Fie, thank you again for writing such an engaging fantasy and Gaia for commissioning it. The combination of your ideas has really made an excellent fic I am going to be returning to again and again.

𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒉.𝟒 (𝑷.𝑺𝒉)

✧.*Summary ✧.*-Due to olden traditions, you’re sent off to be a sacrifice to an unseen beast on an island far from home. You’re not exactly the one to go down without a fight and you promise when you get yourself out of this situation, you’re going back for revenge.

After an encounter in the ocean and arriving on the island in question, you collect yourself and begin making preparations to get yourself off of this island.

All while being watched over by a pair of unfamiliar, narrowed emerald eyes.

✧.*Pairing ✧.*-Siren!Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

✧.*Genres ✧.*-Angst, Romance, Smut, Action, Fantasy, Survival, Slight Horror Elements, Hurt/Comfort, Revenge, Siren AU, Monster AU, Enemies to Lovers

✧.*TWs ✧.*-Mentions of Death, Blood, Subtle Monster Transformations, Non-Descript Mentions of Eating People (I mean Seonghwa ain't human so it's not cannibalism but-)

✧.*Sws ✧.* - Hair pulling, Strength Kink, Size Difference, Food Play, Oral Fixations, Wet Dream, Cunnilingus, Blowjobs, Pussy Drunk Seonghwa, Monster Anatomy (Elongated tongue, Two Cocks, Knots-), Thigh Fucking, Titty Fucking, Grinding, Teasing, Fingering, Squirting, Cum Swallowing, Overstimulation, Virginity Loss, Depictions similar to Heats/Ruts, Double Penetration, Breeding, Knotting, Creampie, Mind Break (From Pleasure, everything is safe, sane, and enthusiastically consensual here)

✧.*Rating ✧.*- Explicit (18+)-Minors DNI

✧.*WC ✧.*-15.5k+ (help, my back hurts-)

✧.*Previous Chapter

✧.*Next Chapter

✧.*A/N ✧.*This was originally a 3k+ paid commission thanks to the lovely @jacksons-goddess-gaia but I loved the idea so much that I decided to make this into a short series! Thank you again for allowing me to turn your comm into something of a bigger scale and I hope you and everyone else also likes this little series! Just a note of warning, the ending of this series does have a pretty dark ending so please be mindful of the tws of each respective chapter (tbh I don’t think its any darker than the shit I make yall suffer through write anyway but just a fair warning, you are not ending this as any kind of pacifist lol)

✧.*Series Playlist ✧.* (I keep fidling with this one so dont be surprised if songs are added lmao)

✧.* AO3 | Taglist Form | Commission Sheet ✧.*

✧.* ©atiny-piratequeen. do not repost, translate, or use my works. Minors DNI✧.*

✧.*Network Pings- @kwritersworld | @kdiarynet | @k-vanity

Divider Cr.- @benkeibear (tysm ily)

After that fateful day, everything regarding life on the island…shifted.

Seonghwa no longer appeared just in the corner of your vision. No, instead, he had been all but glued to your side, helping you with hunts and accompanying you as you traversed newer parts of the island.

It was nice. Having a companion at your side. Someone who would sit and listen to your stories about your parents, whom you missed dearly. Or an extra pair of hands to help you find the missing remains scattered about the island and lay your fallen sisters to rest properly.

Speaking of resting, after a bit of fumbling, he'd all but nominated himself to be your…mattress, essentially. Not a single night passed now without Seonghwa settling his large form down first, looking at you with those dazzling emerald eyes as he waited for you to (shyly) crawl beside him. Some nights, you sleep with your back to his broad chest, lulled to sleep by his singing as he held you close with a single arm.

Other nights, when bite of the night air is a bit chillier or while it rains just outside, Seonghwa nudged you on top of him, cocooning you in a blanket and then protectively wrapping both arms around you, rumbling every time you wiggled in his grasp until you force your fluttering heart to calm down and tuck your head in the crook of his neck.

He doesn't sing then, not until you're settled in and already dozing. Instead, he lets you shift to and fro, watching with half lidded eyes that shine in the dark with mirth.

"Have you finished fluttering, Little Bird?"

You flush and feel your ears heat up.

"You could help."

"I could. But it is cuter to watch you wriggle around. You make some interesting sounds."

You slap him half heartedly (it doesn't phase him) and huff, focusing on going to sleep after that.

It's only after you begin to doze off on your own that you hear those familiar notes, quietly pushing you into the realm of dreams as you feel every thrum and vibration rumble from his throat.

This truly was a dream…

Erm, anyway-

Seonghwa had been so kind as to use his magic to create clothes for himself…before promptly giving you his shirt to wear.

It was so large, it essentially was a dress, with the benefit of being fresh and clean (and smelling of Seonghwa). He didn't bat a lash as he produced a fresh shirt for you nearly daily (until you told him you could just wash the others, feeling bad about how much he'd been gifting you) Seonghwa usually ended up staying in the nude unless you both intended on going much deeper in the forest for the day.

Even then, he somehow ended up coming back to camp with you, pants mysteriously absent. Something about being more comfortable and feeling less restricted in "Landling Attire" and not seeing any need in wearing them if you already knew of his existence and weren't bothered by it.

Well, you were bothered by it, but probably not in the way he'd thought. The more time you spent with the seven foot behemoth of a man, the more you began to…realize some things.

Specifically with the dawning realization you definitely had an attraction to him.

At first, you'd held a small conference with yourself in your head. Had it just been residual emotions from him saving your life? Perhaps that was part of it, but it certainly wasn't all.

Your mind had already wandered way more than it ever had before with anyone else when you had those treacherous first 48 hours together. It continued to wander, tripping, falling, and rolling down a hill as you become hyper aware of certain…habits the SeaBorn man had.

Like the otherworldly show of strength he showed nabbing that sturgeon, or the way he had cleared the way for you sometimes by hefting up entire boulders, the veins in his arms, neck, and legs bulging from the challenge before letting out a rough snarl of a noise as he tossed it aside. The pleased, almost feline purr that would leave his lips when he was satisfied, accompanied with an occasional clicking resonating from deep in his chest that tickled your brain in a way you were wholly unused to.

Or, endearingly, the way he'd tilt his head, listening to you intently as you told quiet stories over your dinner campfire. His singing always put you at ease, and you quickly found it took no effort at all for you to fall asleep against his chest once he began to sing to you.

It was…oddly domestic and wholesome, though your thoughts weren't always the same.

Like today.

Seonghwa could pick you up without any effort, often doing so with one hand or arm, supporting your bottom as he'd lift you up to reach high fruit from trees you previously weren't able to reach without throwing fallen branches and rocks and hoping your aim was good enough to make them fall.

That's where you'd found yourself today. Perched on his shoulders, reaching up as you mumble under your breath. It would be easier if he just held you up, yes. His arm span was enough. But you were admittedly stubborn, and wanted to hold onto some sense of usefulness. Seonghwa was here but you couldn't expect him to do everything while you sit back and do nothing.

He merely grunted below you, feeling the weight of your hips on the back of his neck, humming as you huff.

"Do you wish to-"

"No, I got it!" You cut him off, threading your fingers through his hair without thinking, steadying yourself as you rise up to your knees. Your fingers brush just barely against the fruit, your knees digging into Seonghwa’s shoulder slightly as you lean more.

"Y/n. As much as I looooove having your knees on my shoulders, just let me hold you up."

You barely have the time to rebut his suggestion before you feel yourself slip and fall forward, head first.

You shriek, throwing your arms up to brace yourself for the ground.

You're stopped abruptly, dangling upside down as Seonghwa’s hand shot out to catch you, wrapping his fingers around your ankle.

Immediately, you feel a breeze, the fabric of his shirt dropping with gravity as he holds you.

Fire ignites in your veins as you lift your head, blushing all the way to your ears when you're met with his cock.

Your eyes are crossed as you stare, before a deep growl above you drew your gaze forward.

It's admittedly hard to see while upside down, but Seonghwa isn't looking at your face when you strain your neck to look at him.

A passing breeze reminds you of your…compromised position-and where his eyes were currently locked-and you bring your other leg in, closing them to the best of your ability.

That seems to snap Seonghwa out of his trance, his eyes-now…magenta?-focusing onto yours as he righted you and set you on your feet. You look up at him, completely flustered, but for once it's him who doesn't meet your gaze.

Instead, he reeled back, slamming his fist into the tree and holding his free hand out to catch the falling fruit. Once he did, he looked down at you finally, his eyes still half lidded and magenta as he offered his arm for you to climb into. You do so, perching back on his shoulders as he walks back to camp.

Neither of you speak during that stretch of time, though a huge part of you wants to know why his usual emerald eyes turned such a vibrant and deep shade of magenta.

You try to think back to when you'd ever seen his eyes change, and can only recall them doing so in moments of fury, bleeding into a bloody crimson.

Was…he angry at you? Was that it?

"Seonghwa?" You finally speak once you see the outline of your camp through the trees. He made a sound of acknowledgment in his throat and glanced at you, seemingly lost in thought. You worry your lip between your teeth.

"Uh, I'm sorry. If I hurt you with my knees or anything. I just like to do things myself and having everything handed to me just-"

"I am not injured. And I know you prefer your independence. Which is why I didn't say anything until you began to strain yourself."

You nod quietly, looking at his side profile.

"....are you angry at me?"

"Not in the slightest. Why? Your scent has changed again. What has made you anxious? Did I harm you when I caught you?" He finally turned to look at you, and you pressed your lips together, shaking your head.

"Your eyes changed color. I've only seen that when you're angry. They're not red but…"you trail off, looking down. He said you hadn't hurt him but his shoulder was permanently scarred from you, maybe it was still sensitive-

Your thoughts halt and stall as he placed a finger under your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze.

"I can assure you, it's not anger I'm feeling at the moment."

"....what are you feeling, then?" You inquire. He hummed, deep and melodic as he set you down and leaned into your ear.

"Probably the same thing you're feeling that's making your scent so sweet."

Your eyes widen slightly as words fail you completely, watching as Seonghwa turned his attention to the fruit he'd knocked out of the tree, sniffing quietly. You flushed, staring at him as you gripped the end of his shirt you were wearing.

He'd been mentioning that since you met him. Your scent. He seemed to be able to detect even minute changes in your mood because of it and you feel realization dawn on you exactly what he meant by 'sweet smell'.

It's your own arousal.

There was a cracking sound that snapped you abruptly from the conference you'd been having with yourself, and your head whirled around to the noise, watching as Seonghwa held one of the hard-shelled fruits in his giant palm, squeezing and cracking it clean in half effortlessly. Carefully, he sniffed the inside before a pleased grin tugged at his lips, fangs flashing. You watch as he pulled one half away from the other, tilting his head back to eat directly from the split fruit.

Juices dribbled down his chin and neck as he messily ate, a low purr rolling out of his throat. Milky, white, and fragrant. You could see a sliver of his tongue, much longer than any human or beast you'd encountered in your own life, curling and coaxing more of the fruit out.

Goodness, the sounds-

Truly, you need to think back and recall when exactly you obtained such a perverted mind.

"It's safe to eat."

You jolt, eyes snapping upwards. His eyes are fixed on you as he lowered the second half of the fruit, the same tongue he'd just used to clear out the inside of the fruit rolling over his lips as he waited for you to take it.

"O-oh. Uh. Thank you."

You reach and take it from him, clearing your throat as you pluck pieces of the inside out, the juices sweet and fragrant as you raise the fruit to your lips.

Seonghwa smiled and sat beside you, one arm resting on his knee as the other grabbed another fruit. A familiar crack startled you for a moment before you saw him eating out of the corner of your vision. Clear, sticky droplets chased one another down the side of his lips, past the curve of his Adam's apple, and disappearing further down his chest.

'Stop staring, Y/n.' You tell yourself

You do not, in fact, stop. Instead, you pause completely, lips slightly parted as a band of tension builds in your stomach. You don't voice it, but your brain is aflame with chatter regarding the SeaBorn and your mind is invaded with thoughts of licking his chest and neck clean, chasing the droplets in reverse all the way up to his lips-

You must have made a sound of some sort, instantly pink eyes are fixed on you.

Seonghwa doesn't say a word, leaning into your space, the sweet smell from his natural scent and the fruit making you dizzy.

"You haven't eaten much. Is it unappetizing? I can always fish instead for you." He offered. You shake your head, coughing and looking away.

"N-no, sorry, my head is just in the clouds."

He doesn't move from his spot, humming as he took the fruit from your hands. You only have enough time to utter a hurried 'hey!' before he dug the flesh of the fruit out with his claws before he held it to your lips, waiting.

You reach, his eyes narrow and he pulls away slightly. You don't have to repeat the motion to know what he's trying to do.

"If you're not going to eat because you're distracted, I'll just feed you. Don't bite your tongue. Or me."

You feel a wave of embarrassment laced with excitement as you open your mouth, eyes fixed on Seonghwa’s as he guided the first piece past your lips.

It was a good fruit. Great, even. But every single move you made in these moments was laced with a tension you'd never felt before.

"Do you like it?" He inquired, pausing before giving you another.

"Yes," you respond, leaving your mouth open afterwards, welcoming more.

It seems you weren't the only one who'd had a dirty mind today. Seonghwa’s eyes drifted to your lips, a low, vibrating hum rumbling from his chest as he fed you another piece.

"Good," he breathed out airily, thumb idly rolling over your lips, smearing the fruit juice across your bottom lip. "I don't want to do anything you don't like."

You know full well this isn't about the fruit anymore. You lick your lips when he pulled his hand away, heart thundering in your chest.

"I would tell you." You mutter. He hummed, eyes half-lidded as he looked back into your eyes.

"And I would cease. Immediately."

You bite your lip and watch him bring the last of the fruit forward. You grab his wrist, holding him still as you eat from his fingers, kissing his fingertips gently before your tongue flicked out, lapping up juices from his palm up to his middle finger.

"I know you'd stop. I trust you."

More patches of scales appeared in an instant, peachy pink as a loud purr reverberated through his chest. He stared at his fingers when you pulled back before bringing them directly to his lips, tongue curling over his middle finger where you'd just lapped up.

You shudder, subtly rubbing your thighs together as Seonghwa stared at you through his lashes.

You'll always be smaller than him but under that gaze, you felt like a divine being up in the clouds had laid eyes on you.

Seonghwa finished and rumbled, standing to toss the husks of the fruit into the lake for the bottom feeders to hide inside and shelter from larger predators. Eventually, it would break down and become sustenance for those in the lake. You follow the line of his body as he moved, and feel punched in the chest when you find he's definitely aroused.

“You’re staring a lot more than usual today.” He teased, lips pulling up into a smirk as he waded into the water, effectively hiding himself from you before he dove in, his massive tail appearing moments later, slapping the surface of the water and sending droplets flying upwards.

It left a beautiful rainbow as he disappeared below the surface.

The water of the lake was pleasant and clear, and you could see the outline of his large body as he swam deeper.

Soon, you couldn't see that much.

"Because my mind is racing." You huff, staring at the surface of the water.

You weren't ignorant of your own body. Hardly so. You just…didn't know how to go about it.

Or if you should.

Seonghwa wasn't human. Would something like sex between the two of you even work?

You're reminded, with a flush to your cheeks, that he has two dicks, apparently.

Though, you had only seen one.

You hum and lay back, closing your eyes and exhaling gently. He had the same basic shape as a human, though his size may prove to be…a challenge.

Seriously, why had you only seen one?

"Maybe it's tucked away internally like some other animals do?" You muse to yourself. There's a splash somewhere in the lake and you jolt upright, thinking he'd heard.

Instead, you find him showboating, diving deep and launching his body several feet out of the water, flinging droplets of water every which way before making a colossal splash in the center of the lake. Thankfully, his choice of location spared you the trouble of having to dry yourself off.

You watch him swim and flip in the lake, your palm resting on your chin.

Perverted thoughts and musings aside, this still felt…right. Whatever this was.

You lay back down, finding yourself dozing under the afternoon sun.

Your brain hadn't been quite done tormenting you, however.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

In your dream, there wasn't nearly the same amount of agonizing fanfare when it came to your desires. As soon as you're mind focused, you find your hand tangled in Seonghwa’s silky locks, with his head buried between your thighs.

You're rutting against his mouth, eyes fluttering as that oh-so-long tongue curls and curves inside of you. The sound is intoxicating, and you realize your imagination has taken the sight of Seonghwa eating-messily,at that-and ran with it, down to the noise rolling around in your mind.

"Look at me. Don't close your eyes."

With a shiver, you look down, staring back at peachy pink colored eyes. Your lips part as you hurriedly whisper his name, cooing like a mantra as your hips twitch and jolt every which way.

He groans and drags you to your climax, holding onto your hips so you don't squirm away, tongue flicking and curling until he was sure he'd licked you clean.

It leaves you spent, your chest rising and falling erratically as he leaned up to meet your lips, rumbling against them.

"Just lie back. I'll take care of the rest." He purred, running the tips of his claws down your abdomen, just enough to make the goosebumps rise on your skin.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

When you jolt awake, you make a sound you don't recognize, and out of your peripheral, you see a shadow pause.

Seonghwa looked down at you, holding two massive tree trunks under his arms as he met your wide, unfocused gaze.

"Are you alright?"

You nod, sitting up. You're embarrassed to find a telltale ache between your legs and your heart still trying to escape from your chest.

Seonghwa stared at you even longer, still, before sitting across from you, watching you for a prolonged pause before he seemed to drop it, setting one of the trunks down beside him. The other one rested in his lap, and he took a moment, eyeing it from different angles before humming.

"What are you doing?" You inquire, standing-albeit a bit on wobbly legs-and walking over to him.

"Firewood." Is all he says before he dug his claws into one end of the tree.

It's there, you notice, roots.

"Seonghwa…? Did you uproot a tree?"

He looked at you before nodding.

"Yes. It's more efficient this way than to slowly hack away at branches, no?" He inquired, promptly tearing the trunk in half with a growl and one hard motion.

You flinch a bit at the sudden loud and splintering noise, and he paused, looking at you.

"Could you stand back, my Little Bird? I don't want any pieces flying and harming you."

My Little Bird.

You feel the heat rise to your face as you move a ways away from him. He looked over his shoulder, nodding when you’d moved a good enough distance. The sound of him grunting and growling filled the air once more and you decide to wander around while he does that, trying to clear your mind.

It wasn't like there was anything to deny when it came to your feelings in this matter. Seonghwa was a devilishly attractive being and you clearly felt yourself being drawn into him.

Even without his powers.

He’d explained them to you one evening. The power of his voice. It could easily bend and break one’s mind. Leave them a mere feeble shell of themselves as he did whatever he pleased.

And all he ever seemed to use those enchanting notes for was easing your mind during moments of distress, when the nightmares of your past experiences made sweat break out on your skin and when the claws of panic drag their nails down every corner of your mind.

His voice melted those things away, a hummed lullaby at times, an orchestra of one during others.

You startle as you feel your toes brush against something cold and wet and as you bring yourself free of your thoughts, you find you’ve walked to a hidden waterfall you found a few days back.

-“Seonghwa! Seonghwa, look! I found a waterfall!” You’d been so excited to tell him, looking down at the crystal clear water. It was well hidden, with green surrounding it on most sides in the shape of a crescent, and a decently sized spring.

Seonghwa had looked around, nose tilted up as he sniffed for any signs of danger. When he found there were none, he relaxed, smiling at you.

“Would you like to go inside? Have you been near a waterfall this close before?” He inquired, taking your hand and walking towards the water.

You considered taking your clothes off before getting in, but felt a familiar shyness creep into your being that lead to you just getting in as you were, gasping as Seonghwa tugged you under the water’s surface.

He held his hands near your head, the water spinning and swirling until it formed a bubble, and he simply smiled, fangs flashing as you take a hesitant breath of surprise.

“I would never let you drown.” He chuckled, and you shudder, holding onto him regardless. Seonghwa didn’t tease you, simply holding your hand and swimming with you, his tail a beautiful glittering fan in the clear water.-

You shake yourself out of yet another daydream and begin to take your clothes off, wading into the water. The sun hadn’t yet set, so you weren’t worried about not being able to find your way home afterward.

The ache between your legs reminded you of your ever wandering mind and you huff, sitting on a smooth rock. You worry your lip between your teeth, looking down.

Seonghwa hadn’t followed you this time, it should be fine.

You reach between your legs, surprised at just how wet you’d gotten from your dream. It was almost embarrassing, the dream didn’t even last long.

Of course, it wasn’t just that though, was it?

You sigh and close your eyes, rolling your fingers over your clit, letting your head tilt back as the tiny sparks ran up and down your spine. Your free hand finds its way to your chest, caressing and squeezing.

How would his hands feel on your body instead?

That one thought alone made a whimper slip from your lips, your mind yearning for Seonghwa’s touch as you feel your fingers covered in your own fluids the more you rubbed yourself.

“S-Seonghwa-” You sigh his name, your back arching as you recall the way he stared at you when he caught you, his eyes trained on your pussy, both they and his scales that beautiful pink color.

He wanted you, probably just as much as you wanted him. His body all but broadcasted it.

Hell, look at you, yours did just as much as his, at this point.

You slip your fingers into yourself after teasing them against it for an agonizingly long stretch of time, mewling as you spread your legs wider.

Your voice is but a whisper over the sound of the rushing waterfall just a few feet away, and without a second thought, you let your moans freefall, calling out Seonghwa’s name the longer you pleasured yourself.

It was aggravating, your fingers felt good, but they weren’t enough. Your mind had ingrained its own version of pleasure inside of your head and one, two, even three fingers weren’t enough to satisfy the hunger and need that had settled in.

“Seonghwa! Seonghwaa!” You whimper, frustrated beyond comprehension.

“My. Is this where you snuck off to?”

You freeze, the only thing you hear for the longest time is rushing water and your erratic heartbeat. Your eyes open slowly, and you sit up, finding Seonghwa standing a few yards from you, arms crossed.

You don't say a word as he slowly drug his gaze up your body, from your toes all the way to the top of your head, his scales a deeper shade of pink before his eyes-also pink-locked onto your face.

“You called my name, so I came running, thinking you were in trouble. It seems I was wrong.”

You don’t break your gaze with him, but the burn in your chest reminded you that you actually needed to breathe.

“Seonghwa…”You pant pathetically, and had your head been clearer, you may have been embarrassed. Instead, you reach for him, brows pulled up.

He cleared the space between you in an instant, dwarfing you with his sheer size as he leaned down to wrap his arms around your waist.

“You poor girl. I’ve never seen this look on your face before. How can I help?”

You blush. Your mouth flounders for longer than you’d like it to. He chuckled and tilted your chin up, leaning into your space.

“How about we start with a kiss?”

Your eyes drift down to his lips and you nod, pulling your fingers free from yourself and blushing as Seonghwa leaned in, kissing you. He held your chin between his fingers, his claws lightly pressing against your skin, but not breaking as you melt against him.

He’s…surprisingly soft. His lips are plush and you realize-again-that you’ve forgotten to breathe again until you feel him lap at your bottom lip. You bring your hands up, cupping his face as you deepen the kiss.

Seonghwa growled, the sound reverberating and vibrating through his chest loud enough for you to feel it in your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he hungrily kissed you, pushing you back until he was completely on top of you, his palms splayed out on the rock at either side of your head.

You feel yourself ache as you kiss him, reminded of the length of his tongue as he leads the kiss, exploring and mapping out every part of your mouth. The feeling is bordering on overwhelming as you part your lips wider, panting and gasping as spittle ran down the corner of your lips.

Seonghwa broke the kiss, looking down at your dominant hand.

It's then, you realize, you’ve smeared your juices along the skin of his cheek and chin when you held him, and a sense of mortification settled in your body.

“O-Oh, I’m so sorry-”

Seonghwa’s tongue lulled out of his mouth, long enough to lap at his cheek before doing the same to his chin. You stare at him, heart hammering in your chest as his pupils dilate, staring dead into your eyes.

“Seonghwa?”

He grabbed your hand, dragging his tongue along your fingers, groaning as he did so, the pink of his eyes and scales darkening even more as he breathed sharply through his nose.

“So this is how you taste? Its…intoxicating.” He growled, letting your fingers go after a few moments of him sensually licking and sucking them clean. You blush and think back to the fruit, to your dreams, and his…interesting reaction.

“Do you want to taste more?” You whisper, still having trouble finding your voice. He heard you, regardless, looking down at you before his eyes trailed lower. Your gaze followed, biting your lip as you saw his cock, hard and drooling along your stomach.

Still, just the one.

You are hell bent on seeing the second one.

Seonghwa moved lower, grabbing both of your knees and holding them apart, eyes focused on the glistening juices clinging to you. You almost close your legs instinctively, but a simple flex of his fingers reinforced that you wouldn’t be able to do so easily.

Good, you didn’t actually want to.

You let out a soft exhale as Seonghwa drug his tongue over your clit, a deep rumble leaving his lips as he tasted more of you. He curled his tongue over the bud, settling himself between your legs and purring as he suckled on it. The sparks from before paled in comparison to the lightning trailing up and down your spine, your hands flying to tangle themselves in the blonde’s hair.

Seonghwa didn’t budge, panting against your core as he drug the tip of his tongue lower, moving his elongated tongue along your clit and between your folds. He perked when you let out a gasp, the tip of his tongue dipping into you for the briefest of moments.

He slowly looked back up at you, holding your gaze as he smiled against your lower lips. Your heart squeezed and you subtly spread your legs wider, biting your lip when you feel his fingers tighten for a moment, expecting you to try and close them again.

When you don’t he took the silent invitation for what it was, delving his tongue into you and groaning once he did.

Seonghwa’s hands move from your knees to your thighs, claws slightly digging into the soft skin there as he worked his tongue in and out of you.

Your grip in his hair tightened and you gasp as you rock your hips back and forth, working yourself shamelessly on his tongue. Seonghwa didn’t mind, in fact, he’d been surprisingly quiet since he’d gotten between your legs. You shyly glance down, biting your lip as you see him eagerly bobbing his head, his lips and undoubtedly his chin covered in your precum.

“S-Seonghwa!” You cry out, he only growled in response, pressing his nose against your pelvis as he thrust his tongue deeper. He seemed to be intoxicated, squeezing your thighs tighter.

You feel droplets roll down them, and at first, you assume it’s sweat. It wasn’t until the dazed and lustful look in Seonghwa’s face is replaced with a sobered look, his eyes snapping over to your thigh. You whine, frustrated, and follow his gaze.

His claws had dug into your thighs, drawing ribbons of blood.

You hardly felt any pain from the pricks, but Seonghwa immediately pulled away from your pussy, moving to drag his tongue up your thigh, suckling and kissing his way up until he reached where he had drawn blood, laving them with licks and kisses.

You smile, gently caressing his head before you push him away from your thigh. Seonghwa looked at you with a curious expression in his hooded eyes.

“I’m fine. I didn’t even notice. You felt so good…”You trail off before gasping sharply as he kissed your clit.

“Then I’ll continue.”

You bite your knuckle as he once again pushed his tongue into you, holding you by your ass and keeping you flush against his lips, with your thighs over his shoulders.

“D-Don’t you-ah-! Don’t you want me to…ngh oh fu-fuck right there-”Your thought process derailed as Seonghwa’s tongue brushed against a tight bundle of nerves deep inside of you.

Goodness, if his tongue could go that deep, just how deep could his cocks go?

The thought, combined with the sensations of Seonghwa hungrily eating you out was enough to push you over the edge of your pleasure, and you feel yourself unravel in his arms moments later after trying-and failing-to rush out a hurried warning to him.

He felt you clench around his tongue, still thrusting and curling it regardless, but you can see his pupils dilate even more the moment your orgasm actually settles on his palette.

He squeezed your ass tight, a deep growl ripping from his throat as he kept going, trying to urge more of your cum out. You feel your eyes flutter closed, hips twitching both towards his mouth, and away.

“More, Y/n, darling I want more. You’re…mmm...you taste so good.”

The sound is absolutely filthy as he messily alternated between thrusting his tongue deep inside of you, and pulling his tongue out to focus on your clit.

You close your thighs around his head, rocking and bucking forward as you feel another orgasm fast approaching. Every part of your body feels like it's electrified one moment and on fire the next.

“My…nnn, my body, Seonghwa-” You mewl, kneading and groping your chest. Seonghwa looked up, smiling drunkenly as he licked his lips.

“SeaBorn saliva has aphrodisiac properties it makes it easier for our partners to take both of our cocks during sex. Does this feel good, Y/n?” He rubbed his thumb over your clit, resting his chin on your stomach as you jolt and twitch.

Both….

“I wanna…nnn I wanna see it.” You moan, bucking. Seonghwa looked at you before he removed your thighs from his shoulders and sat up, licking the taste of your precum off of his thumb.

You can see his cock standing proud, thick and long, but still unable to stand straight against his abdomen from the weight of it. Seonghwa watched you with a dark, pleased gaze, a melodious clicking leaving his chest as he stood to his full height.

Like this, after you sit up, you’re eye level with his cock.

There’s a sweet aroma coming from him, and you lean forward to kiss the tip of his cock, confirming that the sweet smell is from his cock as a bead of precum rolled out against your lips. Seonghwa seemed to consider putting his hands on your head like you had done to him, but he resisted, squaring his shoulders and letting you lick and grab him at your own pace.

He didn’t want to hurt you.

The action was endearing, and you sent him a smile as you stroked him, licking and kissing his cock. Your eyes trail up, and you notice just above his sizable length, there's a vertical slit in his skin, weeping more of the sweet smelling liquid, though it was an interesting color.

A creamy and glittering pastel pink fluid dribbled out of the slit, and you found yourself staring as it shimmered in the moonlight at certain angles, you could see flecks of blue and silver in the milky fluid.

Oh, it was already night time? How long had you two been going at it?

You bring your hand up, rubbing your fingers between the fold, and immediately Seonghwa’s hips jerk, his eyes wide.

You stare up at him before you sit up straighter, pushing your fingers past the leaking slit. Seonghwa let out a sound that was a blend of a growl and a whimper as your fingers brush against something.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding it.” You murmur, proud of yourself as you tease the area until he groaned, his second cock unsheathed from the messy slit.

It wasn’t identical to the first, with this one being longer, veins throbbing along the sides of it as it sat coated in the same pretty fluid that had revealed its location in the first place. There were several interesting barb-like protrusions just beneath the crown of his cock and the further down you inspected, you can see he was certainly thicker at the base of it.

Seonghwa opened his mouth to comment on you staring, but all that left his lips was a half roar as you leaned forward to take the head of his second cock in your mouth, sitting up on your knees to press the first between your breasts to make sure both got attention.

You quickly find out why this one was hidden as you roll your tongue over the barbs (they’re thankfully quite soft, though you can imagine the way they’ll feel rubbing inside of someone-) and watch him buck and shudder, mouth falling open.

This one was more sensitive than the other.

Much more sensitive.

You smile and work both of his cocks at different paces, aching between your legs as you listen to him groan and growl above you, each note sending a chill down your spine. You rub your body along the cock between your breasts, using your least dominant hand to keep it flush against your skin while the other thumbed the base of Seonghwa’s upper one.

You held his gaze as you slowly slid more of it into your mouth, careful of your teeth as you did so. You can hear the pleased clicking rumble through Seonghwa’s chest as he caressed your cheek, fighting back the urge to kick his hips up and fuck your throat. You appreciate the courtesy, and begin to hum around his length, drool running down your chin.

It's messy, uncoordinated, and borderline primal, the feeling you’ve been feeling all night. Any of the embarrassment you had before was long gone the moment he kissed you earlier and now all that remained was a searing need for more.

You wanted to feel his touch everywhere. His lips against your skin, his claws dragging down and leaving crimson ribbons in their wake for him to chase away with his tongue moments later. The addicting sensation of his tongue curling and twisting inside of you, stroking deeper than your fingers ever could.

And this taste, the sweet, pastel liquid dribbling from his cock that left you greedily sliding deeper, wanting more, needing more.

Your mind thrums in desire as you imagine him sliding between your legs, sinking deep inside you and anchoring you with a firm grip on your thighs.

“Y…n…” Seonghwa grit out, fingers digging into his own thighs, fighting with himself still to not pull your hair. You see gold trail down his thigh and whine in protest, reaching up to lace your fingers through his, squeezing his massive hand with the hand that was on the cock in your mouth.

Seonghwa looked like he wouldn’t be able to take much more, chest rising and falling harshly as his lip curled up, fang bared and fingers flexing. You feel tears bead in the corners of your eyes, your jaw aching as you bob your head, dragging your tongue over the barbs every time you pull your head back.

When he finally came undone, it’s like watching an explosion of color. Patches of scales are apparent on different parts of his body, glittering and shimmering. Even his lids and the corners of his eyes hold a pink shimmer of adoration as he groaned, eyes rolling back, tongue rolling over his lips as a long, pleased groan tumbled out of his chest.

Heat flooded into your mouth, thick and sweet, absolutely intoxicating, and you take care not to waste a single drop.

Well, of the one in your mouth. You can’t do much about the cum rolling between your breasts, splashes of it reaching all the way up to your collar as Seonghwa’s hips kick up and buck.

Once he’s come down from the pleasure, he gently pulled himself from your mouth, petting you as you look up, tired and in a daze. He leaned down, fingers rubbing between your legs before scooping up some of his own cum, mixing them as he pushed his fingers past your lips. You moan and happily curl your tongue around the digits, holding his gaze and tilting your head back for a kiss when he removed them from your mouth moments later.

He waded back in the water as he kissed you, pulling you along and supporting your jelly legs immediately with his tail, happy that the shift between his legs and the tail took but a moment or two between.

He swam on his back, gently washing you as he looked upon you with a tender, pink eyed gaze.

“You look exhausted. Go on, rest. I will make sure I get you back to camp safely.”

You smile softly, kissing his pectoral, right over where you could hear his strong heartbeat. It's that same steady beating that took you by the hand and guided you into the realm of sleep, drifting off in his arms.

Seonghwa smiled and brushed his fingers over your cheek, blinking when he noticed a patch of platinum scales that had formed over the round skin of your cheekbone.

“Oh, my. I didn’t think it would happen this soon.” He mused, wrapping his arms around you protectively. As you nestled into his chest, he couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his lips.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

When you awake, you feel like your body is heavy. Warmth envelopes you and you cannot move anything below your shoulders.

Your eyes snap open and shoot downwards before you relax in an instant.

Seonghwa is sleeping, his head nestled on your chest as he laid between your legs, breathing evenly.

You smile softly, gently petting his head. He didn't budge, though you can hear telltale pleased clicking and purrs coming from him.

You admire him in this moment of quiet, caressing his ears, his cheeks, and his jaw. He pressed his face into your hands and opened his eyes minutes later, rumbling.

"Hello."

You smile as that gravelly voice finally rumbled into your ear.

"Hello, handsome."

He hummed, turning to kiss your palm. You smile and still your hands, just…taking him in.

"Your thighs have healed. I made sure." He yawned, slowly sitting up. You lament the loss of his warmth and the oddly comforting feel of his weight on yours, and instead tilt your head.

"Made sure?" You inquire, looking down to confirm there were no punctures in your thigh. There were none and an impressed sound left your lips. You truly didn't mind that much, honestly.

In a way, the slight sparks of pain were only flooded over by an even bigger wave of excitement and pleasure.

"I licked them until the wounds closed."

You blink. Seonghwa is stretching sore limbs beside you, the occasional dense pop confirming time wasn't standing still.

"Your magic does that too?"

He looked down at you.

"Only on other beings. It doesn't work on myself. This is why I needed to return to the water before for my own mortal wounds."

You think back. Seonghwa had definitely licked you before. A small flicker against your neck here, a drag against your hand there. Every time, you'd been too flustered to realize you'd even sustained any injuries in the first place, much more focused on the large SeaBorn licking you.

Seonghwa noticed your blush and smiled, cupping your chin.

"I'd like to take you somewhere today."

You tilt your head and blink a bit before nodding.

"Where are we going?"

"To meet some friends of mine. I have to ask them a few questions."

You perk. He hadn't mentioned any friends quite yet, and you looked down at yourself, suddenly worried about your appearance.

Seonghwa noticed and kissed the top of your head.

"Don't worry." He picked you up and you look down, finding an elegant flowing dress covering your body. It was an ombre of your favorite colors, light and breathable. As you shift slightly, you feel the familiar weight of your father’s knife once again returned to your thigh.

“You dressed me?” You inquire, looking at Seonghwa as he carried you through the treeline. Emerald eyes drifted down to meet yours before he nodded.

“I didn’t know if you’d catch a ‘cold’ or not from being naked through the night, especially after being in the water. Landlings and their lack of constitution can be rather concerning.”

You let out a small exhale and put your head on his collar.

“It’s hard to catch a cold when you have a massive SeaBorn sleeping on top of you.” You shoot back with no fire in your voice. Seonghwa tutted and looked forward.

“...I wanted to be close to you.” His voice came out quietly a few moments later. You raise your head, looking at him as best you could with the angle. He doesn’t meet your gaze this time, but you can see the telltale shimmer of pink in some of his scales.

“I always sleep beside you.”

“Closer.”

“Sometimes, there’s no space between us, Seonghwa. It’s rather warm and cozy, too.” You add, making sure he knew you didn’t mind the closeness. He lifted his chin a bit higher.

“....Closer.”

“Any closer and you’ll be inside of me, Hwa.”

You expected another sassy comeback, instead, Seonghwa glanced down at you, the edges of the emerald in his eyes tinged pink.

Oh.

You blush and break eye contact first, looking away. When you do, you realize he’d walked you to the beach. You look around curiously.

“By the way, where are your friends? I’ve never seen them and I was pretty sure we’d been up and down this place and I haven’t seen another…uh…person at all.” You mutter. Seonghwa hummed and chuckled, pointing to the water.

“You won’t find them on this island. I don’t know if everyone will be available, but Hongjoong is. Ocean knows he has nothing better to do.”

As if on a cue, a huge wave crashed into both of you, drenching you both in water. You shriek and cling to Seonghwa and he hardly seemed phased, lips quirking in one of his signature smirks.

“See? Nothing better to do. Come, just hold onto me. You can hold on tightly, I guarantee you won’t hurt me.” He told you, setting you down before he walked out into the water, diving in once he was deep enough. You follow close behind, diving in once you felt the telltale dip in the shelf of sand below your toes.

Seonghwa looked back at you, raising a clawed hand, golden and shimmering in the water. He took your hand and laced your fingers together with his, kissing your hand before he made a swirling motion around your head.

Like before, the water bent to his will, a bubble of air appearing over your head. You exhale and wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him as he held both of your wrists securely with one of his hands, beginning his decent into the depths.

You look around in wonder, smiling as you see fish you never would have seen up near the surface. Your grip on Seonghwa tightened as some kind of shark swam in your direction, but the siren hardly batted a lash, watching with half lidded eyes as the shark meandered past both of you.

“Woah…”You murmur, relaxing once the threat had passed.

Below you, lights begin to catch your vision and you find that more interesting than the sealife above you.

There, formed from coral, are buildings. Rows upon rows of homes. You can see some of them swim past you as Seonghwa brings you into this village under the sea.

You get a few glances, some of the smaller seaborn with more aquatic features looking at you with wide eyes.

“The guppies, they’re interested in you.”

You blush and wave at the ‘guppies’, watching as they chirped and swam away behind an older SeaBorn woman. She looked at you with a curious gaze before seemingly locking onto your cheek and then smiling fondly, waving back at you.

There was a series of clicks that sounded through the water, but you frown, feeling like she was trying to communicate to you. Seonghwa looked in her direction and clicked back, his tail flowing elegantly as he slowed down.

“She’s complimenting you and welcoming you.” He translated, continuing on. You smile and wave at her again as he left the area.

“Seonghwa?”

“Mmm?”

“How did you learn to speak my language? Correct me if I’m wrong but it looks like you SeaBorn have your own language completely…how did you learn?”

“Eating humans.”

You blink. Seonghwa rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as he held onto you.

“Those who threaten the water of my homeland, those who get a little too close to this place while being uninvited, they must be dispatched. It may not align with what you may consider ‘humanity’, but that’s how it always has been. You protect your home with tooth and claw, no matter how far you go, you protect your home waters.” He explained, albeit a bit hesitantly, as if you would see him differently.

You hum.

He wasn’t ever a ‘human’, so it would be ridiculous to apply one’s sense of ‘humanity’ to him.

To be honest, Seonghwa had behaved with more decency and humanity in your short time together than any of those horrid men who threw you out to sea to die would ever achieve in their entire lifetimes.

“Are you afraid of me?” Seonghwa inquired, still rubbing your knuckles. You shook your head, instead hugging him tighter.

“No. Not at all. I just wish I knew what it felt like to have a home worth protecting.” You muse.

You cannot see the way Seonghwa’s eyes widen in surprise before he tightened his grip ever so slightly on your wrists, holding you securely as he sped up, swimming to the biggest building in the sea village.

When he swims past the door frame, you both are suddenly swirling in a black and white whirlpool. You let out a startled shout as you cling to him, closing your eyes. Seonghwa didn’t seem too concerned.

“What was that about having ‘nothing better to do?’” An unfamiliar voice comes from the swirling water and Seonghwa rolled his eyes.

“You’re doing a terrible job at refuting my point.”

“I remember you being a bit more fun than this. Whatever.”

The water stilled in an instant, and in its wake was a peculiar SeaBorn man. He had been smaller than Seonghwa in size, with a fin protruding from the back of his thick black and white tail. While not as shimmery and eye catching as Seonghwa’s, it certainly looked like it could do major damage if one were to be struck with it.

His hair was an interesting blue color, and you can see his eyes, which appeared to be pitch black at first, were a deep brown as he got close to your face to inspect you.

You don’t flinch away, looking back unafraid. Seonghwa wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

“Mmm. I see. Your scents are already beginning to lace together. Is that why you’re here, my dear friend?” He inquired, looking over at Seonghwa. He nodded, sending a look over his shoulder at you. You’re have no idea what that means, so you only blink back at him before looking at his friend.

He smiled, his fangs just as sharp as Seonghwa’s. He extended a hand to you and chuckled.

“My name is Hongjoong. Thank you for taking such good care of my big angelfish right here.”

“I’m older than you.”

“And yet, who ended up being declared the leader?”

The two bickered and you watch them go back and forth, a smile spreading further across your lips. Honestly, they sound a bit like you and Seonghwa when you bicker amongst yourselves, too.

“My name is Y/n.” You introduce yourself, taking Hongjoong’s hand. He shook your firmly, careful not to harm you as he swum around the two of you with his hands behind his head.

“Pardon us, Y/n.” Hongjoong excused himself as he swam up to Seonghwa’s face, righting himself so he could speak to him. You could no longer understand them anymore, blinking owlishly as they conversed with a series of clicks and melodic sounds.

You’d of course, only heard Seonghwa sing, but now with Hongjoong beside them, and both of them conversing in their own beautiful way, you find yourself entranced at how well the melodies and notes bounce off one another.

Were all of Seonghwa’s friends SeaBorns? Now you’re curious how a group full of the beautiful race sounded as they conversed with one another.

As your mind wandered, Hongjoong smiled in interest.

“*+:｡.｡So, you’re courting a Landling. I never thought I’d see the day. Not with THE proud Park Seonghwa~ You left home with such a chip on your shoulder promising you never would, I almost took you seriously.｡.｡:+*”

“*+:｡.｡I swear I will go to Yunho instead if you’re going to be of no help.｡.｡:+”*

Hongjoong cocked a brow and swam around the two of you on his back once again, humming.

“*+:｡.｡Oh, please do. I’d love to see a SeaBorn learn how to court from a MoonChild. I’m sure it’ll go swimmingly.｡.｡:+*”

Seonghwa huffed before casting a glance at you. You still hardly noticed, taking in the beautiful interior of the room. Hongjoong watched him before he smiled and once again righted himself.

“*+:｡.｡What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t tease you at least a little bit? I’ll tell you everything, stay here a sec. If you want this to work, you need a bit more than saliva and our precum to prepare her for what’s to come. After all, if you truly want to go through with this, she’s going to have to toss away that pesky humanity of hers.｡.｡:+*” Hongjoong made a face, tail swishing below him.

“*+:｡.｡If there’s anything I hate, it's watching my loved ones wither away when it’s completely avoidable. Anyway, stay here. ｡.｡:+*”

You look up as Hongjoong swam away, tilting your head curiously. You pull yourself closer to Seonghwa, cheek brushing against his.

“Are you alright?” You inquire. Seonghwa nodded and turned his head, kissing you gently. You smile and melt against him, kneading his shoulders.

“Here we go~ You do know how to use this, right?” Hongjoong inquired, coming back to you and smiling as you inspect his hands. There was an hour-glass shaped bottle in his palm, a shifting golden liquid inside of it as he passed it along to Seonghwa.

“I do. I know. Thank you.” Seonghwa smiled and you look at him curiously. Hongjoong smiled and swam around you once more before settling in front. He seemed to enjoy doing that.

“*+:｡.｡And Seonghwa? Make sure to trim your damn claws. You’ll tear the poor girl up if you try prepping her as you are.｡.｡:+*” Hongjoong added. Seonghwa flushed and cleared his throat.

“We should head back. I don’t want the water pressure to start getting to Y/n.” He muttered, looking over his shoulder at you. You smile softly and squeeze closer. Your dress flowed along your legs, mimicking one of the tails of the SeaBorns. You wanted to tell him you were fine, but a yawn came from your lips instead.

Oh. Maybe you have gotten a bit drowsy…

Hongjoong made a motion with his hand, coal black claws pointing towards the door.

“Go on. And next time don’t take forever to come back home. If I didn’t hear you talking shit towards the ocean, I wouldn’t know if you’re dead or alive up there.”

Seonghwa took a look at you over his shoulder and smiled softly.

“*+:｡.｡I will be back sooner, I swear. Besides, SOMEONE has to look after our guppies if we have any.｡.｡:+*”

Hongjoong’s lip curled in faux disgust.

“Nevermind, don’t come back, call San or Yeosang.”

Seonghwa laughed as he began to ascend to the surface, holding the bottle of…whatever it was Hongjoong gave him tight in his other hand. He never let your hands go this entire time, a pleasant warmth settled in them despite the cool water. You kiss the corner of his jaw, feeling yourself dozing.

What an interesting thought. Falling asleep in water.

How…absurd….

Seonghwa heard you yawn once more, glancing over to find you completely asleep. He looked upon you with a tender gaze, swimming around to wrap his arms under your legs and arms, carrying you up to the surface quickly.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Seonghwa let you sleep without disturbing you, though when you awoke, you found yourself back in camp, a fresh dress on as the one you were wearing earlier blew in the wind, drying. You rub your eye, looking around and finding Seonghwa sitting near the river, grumbling as he washed something off. You mumble something incoherent as you come to, and he looked over his shoulder, his eyes their normal green.

"Oh, good. You're awake. I got some things for you." He rumbled, though he stayed seated near the water's edge, still cleaning.

You roll to your feet, walking over to him and taking a peek, blinking as he inspected several beautiful stones.

You blink, watching as he held one up to the sun to see the color it made as the light hit it. He grinned and finally held his hand out to you, placing them in your palm.

"This is peridot, this is amethyst, and this is grandidierite. This one is incredibly rare. I've had this since I was born."

You stare at the last stone, a beautiful greenish blue, in shock and immediately go to hand it back to him.

"It's valuable and probably sentimental to you, I can't possibly keep it-"

"My mother gave it to my father when they were courting. Then she gave it to me when I became of age. Now I'm giving it to you."

You stare at him. Your mouth flounders for a second before you look at the stone.

"Seonghwa…are you courting me right now?"

He arched a brow and hummed, turning his tail back into his legs, a hard-to-read expression on his face. You bite your inner lip and will yourself to keep your eyes above his collar this time.

This was a serious conversation, you didn’t need your mind wandering again.

"I have been since I found you. You don't have to accept them if you don't want to. Here," He extended his hand, waiting for you to give the stones back. Instead, you close your hand around them and hold them close to your bosom. Seonghwa arched a brow at you, a curious rumble leaving his chest.

"You can't just tell me these are a courting gift and then immediately ask for it back." You find yourself answering his unasked question. He let out a small hum before smiling and leaning close.

"Okay then, I won't. Tell me, Little Bird, what is your favorite color? Next, I'll look for stones of that kind."

You look at the gemstones in your hand and reach to touch his face with your free one, gently rubbing circles along his cheekbone. He seemed taken aback, though he didn't move from your grip, pink scales appearing once more, his eyes shifting again to that color from earlier, though it was definitely a few shades lighter.

He's flustered.

Despite the lack of tension in his body and his expression remaining curious, you're sure now this was probably the equivalent to him blushing.

"This is my favorite color. This pretty shade of pink. Can I see more of it?" You try your hand at your own flirtations, leaning up and pressing your lips to his cheek.

Seonghwa’s hands twitch at his sides as he looked down at you, pupils dilated slightly.

"Pink stone. Got it."

"No, not pink stones. Just you."

You can feel heat under his scales as he pressed his head closer into your palm, eyes half lidded.

"Just me."

You smile, setting the stones in your lap and holding his face with both hands as you run your thumbs over the curve of his cheeks.

He let you touch him without moving a muscle. Your fingers mapping out both soft skin and scales along with the strong line of his jaw, a smile coming to your face.

He really was the most gorgeous creature you'd ever encountered in your life.

"Y/n." You perk at his voice and lift your head.

"Yes?"

He began to sing, a beautiful symphony composed of one. He was the conductor and the orchestra, every rise and fall of his voice absolutely mesmerizing.

You also notice, his voice is clearer than it usually is, bold tones and immaculate whispers, each note blending into the one that came just before it. He held your gaze, and you can tell this wasn’t an enchantment.

No drifting off, no cloudy daze, your vision-and mind-remained crystalline as you watched him sing, his large hands placed over yours to keep you touching his cheeks.

Once he finished, the melody carried off with the wind, and he gazed down at you, not saying a word.

You may very well be going crazy, but that felt a confession of love.

Seonghwa rubbed your knuckles and smiled softly.

“I’d like to be yours, and for you to be mine.”

You feel your thoughts grind to a halt as you look at him. Seonghwa waited, not moving an inch as he held your gaze.

For a while, there’s nothing. And then, you feel tears roll down your cheek.

“Y/n?!” He startled. You throw your arms around him and hug him tight. He wrapped his arms around you, smiling softly as he nuzzled your head.

“Don’t cry so suddenly like that, you had me worried.” He murmured, kissing your temple. You turn your head to kiss him and once again, his eyes drift to your cheek.

What’s wrong? You keep looking at my cheek. Do I have a cut or something?” You inquire, reaching up to touch it. He opened his mouth to say something, but your fingers make contact before he can and you feel the smooth expanse of something unfamiliar to your own body.

Scales.

You flatten your fingertips against your cheek, lips parted as you caress the tiny patch. Your eyes drift back to Seonghwa’s and he coughed ever so slightly, looking down.

“I wasn’t aware it would happen when we…well, did everything last night, but it seems the more you and I are together intimately the…less…human you will be.”

You stare at him. His scales are pink as he avoided your gaze, coughing quietly. You touch your cheek again, trying to process his words slowly.

“Was it because of that pretty pastel stuff that came out of you?” You inquire. Seonghwa’s cheeks went bright red as he snapped his head back to look at you.

“Don’t call it ‘stuff’! That makes it sound weird!”

You look at him and smile, cupping his cheeks.

“You don’t get flustered like this so easy compared to me, but when you do, it’s adorable. You coo. Seonghwa huffed, though he didn’t pull out of your hands.

“Do not tease me. I’ve never-ugh. I just want to make sure you don’t regret this. The more we do this, the less you will be a ‘human’ and I….I don’t want you to hate me later for something like that. If we stop now, the scales will disappear in a week or so…” He’d offered the solution, but he clearly didn’t want to, and the smile training at your lips grew wider.

“Seonghwa, are you a virgin?”

Seonghwa nearly threw himself back, an offended, flushed look adorning his face as he gaped at you. You don’t say another word, his response was more than telling.

“I-What does it matter?” He narrowed his pink eyes at you and you push at his chest, happy you didn’t have to apply any more force and he got the hint, laying himself down. You crawl up his body, cupping his cheeks, a surge of confidence in your body.

“It doesn’t really matter. You won’t be for much longer.” You promise with a sweet kiss to his lips. Seonghwa let out a groan beneath you, holding your ass while you press yourself against his chest.

You lace your fingers in his hair, tugging firmly and smiling at the growl that trickled past his lips, teeth bared as you press kisses down his jaw and throat.

You can feel him hard against your thigh, and you hum, pushing your smaller body down and maneuvering until you could trap his cock between your thighs. He shuddered, his grip on your waist tightening as you rock your hips back and forth, leaving bites and kisses down his chest, running your fingers up and down his side to make him shudder.

“Y/n-”He growled out your name, the tone making excitement thrum in your veins as you clench your thighs together tighter. You can feel moisture against your navel as you rock your hips, and moments later, it’s followed by a deliciously sweet scent.

You decide to tease him, quickening your movements. He rewards you by grabbing your hips, grunting and rutting hard and fast against you. You moan, palms flat against his chest as you feel him push between your folds, thrusting the length of his cock between them. Your clit rubbed against every inch and you find yourself clawing at him without thinking, thighs shaking as you feel him thick and pulsing against you.

“Turn around. I want to taste you again.” He ordered, all traces of his flustered stammering gone. He looked at you with a hunger in his eyes that made you ache, and you make haste in turning for him, raising your hips high for him.

Two massive hands come down on the globes of your ass cheeks, drawing a sharp gasp and cry from you before Seonghwa is dragging you closer to his face, panting the moment he caught your scent, snatching your dress up and over your ass. You gasp and nearly jolt off as he goes right for your clit, had it not been for his firm grip on your ass.

He let out a warning growl of protest, silently demanding to be able to enjoy his meal, and you feel a blush and the rise of a challenge hit you.

No matter how much he enjoyed eating you, certainly you couldn’t just sit back and let him remain neglected.

You curse your short stature, unable to get as firm of a grip on his cock as you had before, but once again, the pheromones and delectable tasting fluid running from the slit in his skin reminded you of your compromise.

Seonghwa all but snarled against you, hips twitching as you lean down and press a kiss to the fold of skin, mirroring his actions between your own legs. You can feel him throbbing just beyond it, but you decide to continue teasing, spreading the skin with your fingers and delving your tongue in deeper, the pheromones nearly dizzying as your tongue finds the slit of his cock.

“Y/n~” He practically sang against your pussy, his face already soaked as he greedily licked and ate you out. You grind your hips down, spreading your thighs apart wider as you repeat the motion, pushing your tongue in as deep as you can go, curling and twisting along his walls before curling your tongue along the barbs of his cock.

You flick with a ‘come hither’ motion, the dizzying scent of his pheromones making you clench and unclench on his tongue as you coaxed his cock out of it’s sheath, a purr leaving your lips as it slapped against your cheek, smearing essence against your skin.

You stare at his cock, shaking your hips for him as you lick him from base to tip.

The thought of losing whatever abstract form of humanity you had didn’t bother you as much as you’d imagine it would for most people. You’d seen the worst of humanity already, if tossing it aside meant you could stay here, entangled with your beloved, so be it.

You grab Seonghwa’s impressive length with your dominant hand, clawing at his inner thigh with the other as you try to see if you can get it further down your throat.

Seonghwa groaned, the sound coming out like a mixture of a whimper and a growl as you bobbed your head, tears slipping down your cheek from the strain.

You flatten your tongue along the base, bouncing enthusiastically as Seonghwa raised and dropped your hips, thrusting his tongue deep inside in a way that made you crave something bigger.

You touch your throat, shaking when you find he’s gotten it bulged from the size of it, and that realization is what pushed you over, clawing at his thigh and squeezing his cock at the base as you cum shakily.

Its more overwhelming than the first two from yesterday, and you realize, in embarrassment, that you’d squirted, looking back and finding Seonghwa’s face covered in your juices.

He stared up in a daze, panting as if he’d fought off a thousand sea beasts, tongue dragging along his lips and face, his scales deepening in color as his cock twitched in your hand, thick pearls of essence rolling from one and creamy cum from the second.

His eyes drifted back to your trembling pussy and it took you lifting your hips-ignoring the near feral growl the motion ripped from his throat-for him to focus on your face. You crawl back up to him, kissing him messily. Seonghwa’s pouting ended as quickly as it began once you kissed him, and you smile into it as you feel his big hands trail up and down your spine, squeezing, kneading, massaging.

Along your throat, more scales appear. Seonghwa brushed his fingers along them and you break the kiss to mirror him, feeling it yourself. He kissed down to your jugular, keening deep in his chest, clicking.

“*+:｡.｡ o…utiful….all….m….ne｡.｡:+*”

You stare at him, lips parted. You’re starting to understand the clicks and tones.

A sense of joy overflowed your senses and you throw your arms around him, kissing him feverishly as you press your hips down, dragging your core over one of his aching cocks.

Seonghwa groaned as you held his face, muttering incoherently, both in your native tongue and in his own, though you could only understand bits and pieces of the latter.

It seemed this part of the courting process had been going better than expected.

“More…I still want more.” He rumbled, eyes dark as he looked down at you. You smile and kiss the tip of his nose before moving to your hut, settling on your hands and knees and raising your hips up high.

“Can you get off like this? Rutting against me? I don’t think I can take even one of your cocks like this, let alone both…”You trail, ignoring the traitorous dribble of cum that fell from your pussy to the ground below at the thought. Seonghwa had wasted no time, grabbing your hips and pushing both of his cocks between your thighs, eyeing the way his girth kept your folds spread, your juices mixing with your own saliva and both his essence and precum as he thrust forward.

Each thrust of his hips made your thighs and ass jiggle from the contact, and you bury your head in the crook of your arm, moaning as you push down on both of his cocks as best you could with your free hand, making them rut against one another and keeping them flush against you.

Seonghwa growled your name, his tempo getting erratic and uncoordinated the longer he went until you finally feel him grip your hips tight, leaving finger-shaped marks along your skin as he finally unraveled behind you, making a mess of your hand and pussy as he came.

Your thighs shake as a smaller orgasm rolls through you, your body slumping forward as you try and force air back into your lungs. Seonghwa kissed up your thighs (stopping to take a sneaky lick of the mess you and he had made of your cunt), continuing past your ass, the small, yet deep dimples at the small of your back, along the groove of your spine, and stopping at the top of your head, holding your trembling body close to his firm one.

You turn your head to kiss him, tongue tangling with his as you purr from the taste of both of you lingering on your tongues. Seonghwa stayed close to you, eyes closing as he enjoyed the kiss.

When you finally part, Seonghwa smiled and nuzzled your neck, gently nibbling along the scales.

“I love you” He whispered.

You feel your heart stop and you look up. Seonghwa doesn’t look away from you and you smile, stealing a kiss.

“I love….I love you too.” You reciprocate, nestling yourself in his arms. Seonghwa rolled you onto your side, holding you close and keening.

“Rest. I’ll clean you up.”

You yawn and let yourself go, a carefree smile on your face.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The next two weeks of courting had been….exhausting in the best kind of way.

If you thought Seonghwa had been attached to you before, he certainly was glued on firmly, following you faithfully and bringing in extra rations of food and gemstones.

You had no idea where he kept getting these shiny rocks from, but by now you’d gotten an impressive collection, and had even turned some of them into jewelry with the help of a kit that had not-so-subtly washed to shore one morning full of bands, chains, and various other tools that could be used to turn your stones into much more.

You’d have to thank a certain orca SeaBorn later.

Seonghwa’s favorite place had been between your legs, with most of your mornings starting with him kissing you awake, those soft lips trailing down your body until he could hold you flush against his lips and ruin you, not stopping until you were trembling and in tears from the overstimulation.

Then, with a dazed smile (and a messy abdomen from cumming on himself), he’d kiss you tenderly, gently massaging your body free of any aches and pains before actually starting your day.

The night usually ended the same way, regardless.

Aside from that, Seonghwa had began the process of the SeaBorn courting process, washing you with some fragrant mixture he had made himself. He’d take care, making sure to wash you from head to toe, his claws one of his hands filed down to smooth, rounded tips.

You find out the reason why when he set you in his lap during one of your nightly bathings, groping and kneading your chest as his filed fingers rub your clit. Your breath hitched as you felt him slowly work his fingers in, licking and biting at your throat and shoulder as he worked you open, ignoring his own hardness pressed against your ass. He purred praises to you as you clench and squirm, and growled warnings, threatening to stop when the pleasure nearly made you close your thighs at other times.

You were going insane.

Looking between your legs, you can see your cum running between his fingers. How many times had it been today alone? Three? Four?

You arch, your sternum covered in beautiful scales as you feel your mind buzz in pleasure.

It was so good, so addicting.

But it was all just an appetizer. You wanted more.

Seonghwa set his chin on your shoulder, watching as you messily squirt the fifth overstimulated orgasm into his palm, smiling from ear to ear as you whimper his name along with tiny declarations of love. As he looked down on you, he can see your eyes, tinged pink with love just like the way his were for you.

With one final push, you two would be fully intertwined.

Seonghwa held you tight that night, promising to let you rest until the next crescent moon.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Just as the tides are controlled by the phases of the moon, those born within the ocean are also at the mercy of it.

The moment the sun set on this particular day, you feel something in you shift. Your skin felt…cold. Uncomfortably so.

Seonghwa is always warm.

You look around. He had gone out to grab more firewood. You’d heard a tree being downed not too long ago.

Not good enough. Where is he? It’s cold. Your mate is always warm, he can fix it.

You open your mouth, and without a thought, you begin to sing.

“✧˖*°࿐~♪”

Not too far off from camp, Seonghwa stopped short, eyes wide. The sound of a melody, brand new, yet familiar to him made every nerve in his body spark. He snapped his head to the left, singing back.

“✧˖*°࿐~♪” You continue to sing, swaying left and right. You can hear him, singing back to you, the notes weaving together in harmony.

You’re picked up ceremoniously as you sing, and you look down at Seonghwa, smiling as you cup his cheeks. His eyes are that lovely pink, his pupils a beautiful gold color. You smiled, bending down to kiss him.

“You sang to me.” He muttered against your lips. You feel your body warming, welcoming him in as your heart thrums in your chest.

“And you came.” You keen, nibbling his lip playfully. Seonghwa grabbed your chin, lifting it slowly as he rumbled, clicking deep in his chest.

“Will you be mine?” He rumbled, waiting before he made any further moves. You press your cheek to his palm.

“I already decided to be yours long ago. Don’t hold back.” You whisper. Seonghwa immediately laid you down on your back, plush pillows conjured from magic propping your head up. He made sure one was under your hips, towering over you as he bit the cork off of the curious bottle Hongjoong had given him before. You look at it before glancing up at Seonghwa.

“This will help me prepare you. If it’s too much, let me know, we can take it slower.”

You let your legs fall open, watching as he coated his fingers in the slick, honeyed fluid. It smelled sweet, but not nearly as sweet as his own essence. You didn’t complain, however, mewling as you feel him push his fingers inside of you.

Immediately, your mind is abuzz.

His tongue always felt hot, he’d explained his aphrodisiac properties before, but this was…a whole different beast.

You grab his wrist, not to push or pull, but to ground yourself as you feel him pumping two of his deliciously long fingers in and out of you. Seonghwa studied your face, licking his lips at the flush that adorned your cheeks and leaning down into your ear.

“I feel you, quivering in anticipation.” He growled, his voice lower than his usual speaking tone, though it still bounced around your head like a rubber ball.

“Clenching, unclenching, making a mess of my fingers. Begging for more. Can you call to me? Can you say my name?” He urged. You tilt your head back, panting as you reach to hold your legs open, giving him all the space and access he needs.

“Seonghwa~”

“Louder. Again. Call to me.”

He curled his fingers, pressing the golden aphrodisiac right against your sweet spot. Fire and electricity explode throughout your being, and you cry out, arching and grabbing his wrist tighter, your nails digging fruitlessly into his skin.

“Seonghwa!”

He groaned, focusing that spot deep inside of you as he kissed down your neck to your collar, leaving love bites in his wake.

“I never told you but…mmm…this is how I was able to find you. How I can always be there…when you call my name…I hear a chime. Distinct, strong, elegant. There’s no other sound in the world like it. No matter where you are, if you call my name, I’ll come running…or I suppose swimming, too. Its my second favorite sound in the world.” He chuckled, adding his third finger inside, stretching and curling them. You clench and whimper, making a mess of his fingers as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“W-what’s the f-first-ah! Right there nnn-” You cry out, clawing down his back. He chuckled against the skin of your breast, tongue curling over your areola before he took your nipple between his lips.

“The sound of your pussy gushing on my tongue and your moans right before you cum for me. Its a tie.” He answered honestly, looking up into your eyes, unshaken by his own confession. You whimper and pull his hair, yanking him up into a needy and wanton kiss.

“More…Seonghwa please, I need-mmm more than your fingers-” You whine, feeling his cock throbbing against your core. Both of you look down, finding his tip angry and flushed pink, now leaking the same essence as the one usually hidden from view.

Are these the effects of the crescent moon for a courting SeaBorn?

You reach and grab his cock, pumping it in your small hand and smiling up at him as he inhaled sharply through his fangs. You kiss him, again and again until he took the hint an parted his lips, letting you slide your tongue in while you teased both of you by rubbing the crown of his cock along your folds, coating it in your precum.

“Hurry,” You exhale, breaking the kiss only when your lungs screamed for air. Seonghwa pulled his fingers free, licking and sucking them clean, the gold in his pupils deepening while he coated his cock in the aphrodisiac.

“I love you.” He whispered, pressing against your entrance. You feel the pressure, the weight against it, and it took every fiber of your being to not hook your leg around his hip and pull him flush inside.

Instead, you cup his face, rubbing your nose tenderly against his.

“I love you too.”

He repeated himself, whispering ‘I love yous’ amongst kisses that felt like blooms of electricity against your skin.

Just as you open your mouth to insist he hurry, he slowly pressed into you.

You clench despite yourself, and Seonghwa groaned above you, clawing into the blankets he’d made for you as he fought to rein in the primal instinct to claim you as quickly as possible.

The night was young, and no matter how much the pulses of the moon swayed him, he would not bend to his instincts.

On your end, your mind nearly blanked as you feel every inch of him stretch and fill you. You feel your breath coming in short puffs as you drag your nails down Seonghwa’s back, a broken song of desire tumbling from your lips as you feel his balls finally settle against your ass.

Seonghwa’s eyes are closed above you, his teeth gritted as he pulsed inside of you. You glance down, gushing as you see the telltale bulge in your stomach from the size of his cock.

And it's just one.

You pull yourself up for a kiss, distracting and grounding you both as you spasm around him, clenching and stretching to accommodate him. The aphrodisiac certainly helps, as you realize you weren’t taking as long to adjust to having him inside of you.

Seonghwa finally regained his senses, pulling his cock out only a quarter of the way before rocking his hips forward. The motion drew a pleased shout from you, your breasts bouncing from the force. He repeated a few times, panting and clawing at the dirt before he began to set a deep, hungered pace.

You moan and let your head fall back, feeling every shift and move of his cock inside of you. Seonghwa’s hand moved down, caressing your body sensually as he rumbled and panted above you, pressing your foreheads together.

He didn’t say a word, simply holding your gaze as he moaned for you. In this moment of intimacy, you feel a swell in your heart.

Seonghwa stopped instantly when he saw you crying in his arms. His brows pulled up and he cupped your face, wiping your cheeks.

Before he can ask you what’s wrong, you kiss his palm, tears slipping down your cheek.

“I’m just…overwhelmed. To go from being cast aside to die to this…having someone look at me like I’m their world…it’s a lot. I promise, I’m not in pain. I actually want you to go faster.” You coo, kissing it once more as you meet his eyes. Seonghwa studied your face for a while before he gently pulled out of you, anyway.

You frown and protest immediately, but Seonghwa simply rolled you onto your side, holding your thigh up as he straddled the other, guiding his cock back to your greedy hole and pushing in with less fanfare compared to the first time,

When he does, the air escaped your lungs once more, your back arching as Seonghwa held your ankle in one hand, keeping you spread wide for him as he rutted his cock deep inside of you.

“Seong! H-hwa!” You cry out, voice jerking with his thrusts, your lips parting as pathetic noises fall from your lips. Seonghwa kissed your ankle, trailing up to your thigh, biting the skin of it as he pounded into you, groaning.

“You feel so…grrrrnnn….so good… so tight for me.” He growled, sweat rolling down his skin. You bite down on your knuckle to stifle the moans falling from your lips, feeling the trickle of liquid from the force.

“Ah ah. Careful.” He tutted above you, leaning over slowly and making your body stretch with him, your eyes widening as you feel his heavy cock press deeper as he took your hand, dragging his tongue over the silver blood that had dribbled down them from your bite.

Silver.

Your eyes widen in joyful surprise as you watch him, realizing your blood had changed as you courted. Seonghwa suckled on your fingers, eyes flickering down to you, kissing you heatedly, reaching to rub your clit as he had you distracted.

You jolt and gasp, lips trembling as Seonghwa dropped your thigh, pulling out and rolling you with your back splayed out on the blanket once more. He held your thighs open, speeding up and growling sweet nothings to you as he watched your face closely.

You probably looked ruined, your eyes fluttering closed as your mouth fell open, fangs protruding as you feel the sloppy mess between your legs, both you and Seonghwa chasing your orgasms. Liquid had undoubtedly ran between the two of you, soaking his balls and making the rhythmic ‘slap slap slap’ of it against your hips sound wet and somehow lewder as you clung to his arms.

“Right there, right there, yes yes Seong-” You throw your head back as he pressed into your sweet spot, hips angling just right once he did, speeding up so much he had to hold your hips to keep you from sliding from the force of his thrusts.

“Don’t hold it back, beautiful, I got you, I’m right here with you.” He gritted out through his fangs, eyes flicking back and forth between your face, the alluring bounce of your breasts, and the absolute mess between your legs where you both were joined.

You reach for him, seeking his presence as you tumble towards an orgasm that was undoubtedly more earth shattering than the first.

Seonghwa leaned down, kissing you until both of you were panting, keeping his head tucked in the crook of your neck, letting you tug and pull his hair for purchase as you clamp around his cock, cumming with a pleasured scream that pushed him over the edge alongside you.

The pleasure that washed over you made your mind go completely numb, your arms tightening around Seonghwa as you shook and felt a few smaller orgasms chase after the first. Heat flooded inside of you, cum, essence, and the golden aphrodisiac mixing and swirling deep inside you.

With your newly heightened senses, the scent of sex is dizzying.

You want more of it.

Your eyes drift down to Seonghwa’s second cock, thick and throbbing and already unsheathed from his first orgasm and arousal, drooling against your navel in a way all too familiar.

Seonghwa seemed to be one step ahead of you, sitting up and reaching for the bottle of the aphrodisiac. You nearly growl at him as he pulled out again, but he simply flipped you over, setting pillows under your hips. You blush at the position, feeling yourself leaking from your gaping entrance.

Seonghwa growled, unable to resist leaning down and chasing the beautiful fluid with his tongue before pushing into your cunt and delving in.

You gasp and arch higher, though Seonghwa stopped himself from eating you out this time in lieu of emptying the contents of the bottle on his cocks. You hear the sound, the slickness and raise your hips, shaking subtly.

“Patience. I’m trying to not absolutely ravage you.”

You narrow your gaze and spread your legs wider apart.

“Seonghwa if you don’t get on with it and breed me like I deserve-”

Oh my, now where did that come from?

Seonghwa’s eyes darken behind you, pushing one of his cocks back inside, drawing a moan of relief. You hardly have the time to taunt him into giving you even more before he’s guiding the second to your stuffed hole, slowly sliding in and stretching you much more than you expected.

Its almost embarrassing, the whorish and raw groan that the sensation pulled from your chest, your claws leaving shreds in the blanket and even the stone below you both.

Seonghwa held your hips, giving you time to adjust and stretch a bit, the aphrodisiac and his essence once again helping you loosen up. Its the roll of your own hips that spurn him to move, to finally give you what you’d been waiting for.

Once he finally does move, it’s a much different pace than before, each thrust hard and nearly feral as he held you close to his chest, rubbing your clit in quick circles as he swore and growled in your ear.

“Goodness look at you rrrnn…gush and squirt on my cocks. To think both of your mouths would be making a mess, drooling for me. I’m just as happy, darling.” He keened, reaching around to stick his fingers in your mouth. He let you suck and bite at them, pinching and rolling your clit between his fingers.

You feel your mind blurr into mush, your senses completely overtaken with pleasure and need. Your thighs shook and you could feel every inch of his girthy cocks pounding into you, sometimes with enough strength to completely knock the wind out of your lungs.

Your voice had broken, raw and needy as you beg him not to stop. Go faster, angle right there, keep going, don’t stop until both of you were spent.

Seonghwa pressed down on your stomach, and you cum abruptly when you can feel the bulge of his cocks in your stomach.

The larger man looked down at you, adoration swirling in his lustful eyes and with one motion, he hooked his arms behind yours, pulling up until you were on your knees, sitting you on his cock after picking your body up.

“Ngh!” You cry out, drooling as you feel his cocks settle inside, the last strand of control snapping in your mind as you focus on chasing pleasure for both him and you. Your body moves on its own, notes of love and lust bouncing around the straw walls of the hut as you shakily sing through your moans, letting him thrust up and fuck into your ruined body.

You eagerly clench, but with a delighted giggle, you find his cocks much too big for it to have the same effect, completely shaping you like him as he rose his voice to sing with you, every groan and praised word sending sparks flying up and down your spine.

When he finally came again, your mind blanked completely, your body locking up and tears streaming down your face as a blissed out smile stretched across your lips.

You find later that the peculiar base of his second cock is actually a knot, and it nearly made Seonghwa pass out himself as it pulsed inside of you, trapping all of his cum, essence, and the golden liquid deep inside of you along with his second cock.

He let you go, holding you so you didn’t fall forward face first as he shuddered, hips twitching ever so slightly. You were completely fucked out of your mind, trembling as you panted, trying to catch your breath.

Seonghwa kissed the top of your head, rubbing your hips as he willed his own to stop moving and be still.

He looked over your shoulder and smiled softly, kissing your head as he covered you protectively, locked into place behind you.

“*+:｡.｡I love you, so much, Y/n｡.｡:+*” He muttered. You squeeze his hand, the grip of sleep dragging you under its influence.

He certainly wasn’t expecting a tired series of clicks and coos in response.

“*+:｡.｡Love…you too…Seonghwa.｡.｡:+*”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Taglist

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

@kimnamshiks @angel0taiyo @atiny-dazzlinglight @jacksons-goddess-gaia @smallfrye @daniblogs164 @daisyhwa @yunhofingers @xlilehx @violetwinters @jess-1404 @perfectlysane24 @babiebumm @bangteezbaby @skmoonchild @universe-sighted @seomisaho @sanraes @asyamonet22 @drunk-on-hwa @shingisimp @yungiland @serialee @justatiredhuman @soluvcore @twistedsiren @xuxibelle @delphinium3000 @horizonmoonfics @cookiechristie @stardragongalaxy

#fic rec #Seonghwa #ATEEZ #atiny-piratequeen

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weirdefilippis · 4 years ago

Photo

We went all in and commissioned @dalishious to work their magic and create DA Keep style tiles for some of the characters in our Dragon Age run. They also did romance-style tiles. We may eventually post those too.

Dalishious... these are AMAZING.

#dragon age #dragon age keep #ser aaron hawthorne #vaea #francesca invidus #fenris #autumn the mabari #dalishious

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choccy-zefirka · 3 years ago

Note

lydia literally said in their about that they are against slaver/slave ships. why the fuck did you commision them to draw something so gross? specially when they are at a time of need.

We discussed this in DM beforehand and there is no reference to slavery in the art itself. It's literally just a romance tile. If you can use your imagination to see slavery where there is none, I can use mine to give a villain a redemption arc, and Lydia (dalishious) can use theirs to work on a commission I paid for precisely because I'd gotten a paycheck and wanted to support an artist at a time of need.

#i knew this would happen :')

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razrogue · 4 years ago

Text

Dragon Age Romance Tiles

Briva Tabris

Sonika Hawke

Alcina Cadash

I finally had the chance to commission @dalishious for some romance tiles for my girls. Thank you so so much!!! 💖

#Briva Tabris #Sonika Hawke #Alcina Cadash #Dragon Age #dalishious #razrogue commission #my girls 😍😍😍#TYSM 💖#it's about time I got tiles for all of them 😂

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homeformyheart · 4 years ago

Text

creator resources (prompts, commissions, references)

i thought it might be helpful to consolidate creator resources for writing, aesthetics, art, and commissions for myself but also to help other creators. this post will likely be updated time from time (you’re also welcome to send me some!)

*note: this is not meant to be all-inclusive nor exclusive to a specific fandom nor am i taking credit for creating these. i do my best to give credit where it is due, but please feel free to let me know if i missed something.

prompts & ideas things you said (@ eversncenewyork & @ bagelswrites) best vs. worst (@ omgisjasmine) first vs. last (@ omgisjasmine) never married (@ omgisjasmine) 50 ways to say ‘i love you’ (@ butterbee-writes) 50 more ways (@ butterbee-writes) 50 ways to say ‘i hate you’ (@ butterbee-writes) wordless ways to say ‘i love you’ (@ 50-item-writing-prompts) hurt/comfort (@ creativepromptsforwriting) multiple types of prompts (a masterlist for prompts) (@ omgisjasmine) another writing prompt masterlist (@ oh-nostalgiaa) fake dating prompts (@ creativepromptsforwriting) softer dialogue prompts (@ iwanttobecomeavoid) lyric prompts (@ the-devil-made-me) spots to kiss (@ sagamemes) kissing prompts (@ commander-krios) fluff & angst prompts (@ whcczes) 50 angsty questions (@ prompt-dealer) soft sentence starters (@ writerwhofears & @ belladoesrpmeme) 200 dialogue prompts (@ drink-it-write-it) touches/hugs/kisses/handholding (@ creativepromptsforwriting) fluff prompt list (@ rainysoot) poetry prompts (@ phantomemes) casual affections (@ creativepromptsforwriting)

seasonal/temporal prompt lists: CFWC winter season (@ choicesficwriterscreations) winter situational prompts (@ omgisjasmine) winter/holiday prompts (@ fleetwoodmcs) addt’l writing resources: writing for people of color (@ choicesarehard) writing spanish/latin characters (@ thealphabetmurders) finding faceclaims for poc (@ choicesarehard) enemies to lovers, romance, plot development, and research (@ wordsnstuff) other writing resources (@ the-soot-sprite) writing smut (@ lorirwritesfanfic) describing physical things (@ wordsnstuff) describing characters (@ wordsnstuff) descrbing skin color (@ writingwithcolor) researching ethnic/racially diverse characters (@ writingwithcolor) describing poc characters (@ writingwithcolor) art/editing resources: lineart/sketch tutorial (@ masonsfangs) skintones and how whitewashing happens (@ dsm7) do not use fleshcloud for black skintones (@ littleglitchygalaxy) drawing black characters (@ ivansbadart) drawing black charactiers 2 (@ cinnimani) drawing black people 101 (@ mel-lion) drawing afro-textured hair (@ afro-ami) drawing floor tiles (@ thejoyfool) graphics/editing resources (@ dearcornelia-archived) art resources / references (@ queensweeties) coloring tutorial (@ escentia) coloring and shading (layers) (@ illrae) color theory using skintones (@ lilas)

other resources: free photos to use for aesthetics (@ leave-her-a-tome) fanfiction 101 (@ cfwcadm) dealing with creative burnout (@ lorirwritesfanfic) tagging ns*fw and triggers (@ choicesarehard) adding “read more” (@ choicesarehard) writing/making asian characters (multiple authors) artists that do commissions: @jimin-gyu @isabeladraws (commission page) @cioccomello @penbattles @anniemay-af @pilitella @artsyaprilmr @somewillwin @meindraws @foxsteel–fanart (commission page) @ahousset (commission page) @vantaray (commission page) @ryllen (commission page) @inorheona (commission page) @mollieartsie (commission page) @delborovic (commission page) @nukritus @vantaray (commission page) @s-ewell (commission page) @kissingagrumpygiant (commission page) @gwygle (commission page) @eklixio (commission page) @mooreaux (commission page) @peonylon (commission page) @eightmonkeys (commission page) @artbygaia @molliartsie (commission page) @ruiruicchi (commission page) @nukeyyy (commission page) @kura-marty (commission page) @maelacri (commission page) @annevmoreira (commission page) @hannisen (commission page) @kailarts (commission page) @muggesarts @vithcy (commission page) @from-the-stone-art @melododdley (commission page) @alien-doodles (commission page) @nozrael (commission page) @kimchi-toast (commission page) @silly-drawings-by-sugar (commission page) @sermna (commission page) @kirnet (commission page) @daddyschlongleg (commission page) @weetlebeetle (commission page) @commander-sarahs-art @xavestory (commission page) @jaybgz (commission page) @aelwen-art (commission page) @evil-owl-loki (commission page) @redreart (commission page) @jilljoycearts (commission page) @suszi007 (commission page) @fruittulip (commission page)

#creator resources #prompts #commissions #writing tips #long post

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

ab intra | 6 | compos mentis

pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi / Reader

length: 18,811 words / 6 chapters

summary: When a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, underground hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What’s even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.

tags: romance, thriller, misunderstandings, pro hero AU, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, suicide mentions, brainwashing, consensual mind control, some violence

It felt like your entire body was on fire.

You could hardly spare any capacity for thought, overwhelmed by the screaming burn of flames eating away at every inch of your skin. You felt like you might pass out from the pain, could already detect something like black spots on the edges of your vision, creeping in to crowd out everything else. Your sightline flickered, and then a towering wall of flames was rushing at you, lighting up your irises with burning oranges and reds.

You held desperately on to one thought, though, even as you dropped to the floor, writhing in pain. The villain--it hadn’t been Shinsou. You were overcome with a shame and regret that burned almost hotter than the flames licking at your body. You’d mistrusted him, suspected him, planned his downfall, but none of it had been him.

Shinsou...you needed to tell him you were sorry...This wasn’t real, this was a mind manipulation quirk. You needed to find some way out.

Abruptly, the pain guttered out, and your vision flickered again, revealing the chipped tiled flooring of the back room where you lay curled. There was the sound of heavy boots, and then a tall, lean figure in dark black was kicking open the door. You glanced up into that pair of brown eyes.

He was young, younger than you would have expected, plain-faced with a sweet, open cast to his features that might have set you at ease under other circumstances. But you knew who he was now. You knew what he could do.

He stared down at you, and an annoyed look crossed his features. “Another stubborn one, then?” he muttered, like you had inconvenienced him.

“You know it only hurts worse when I have to do it a second time,” he said, “so bad that you’ll kill yourself just to escape. You could have lived if you’d just been a little different. If you could have just let the pain take you, blacked out like all the rest.”

You slammed your eyes shut and he chuckled. “Have my number, do you, darling? You’re not the first, though. I know how to deal with you.”

You heard the scuff of his boots as he stepped closer, and your mind raced wildly. Your whole body felt shaky, sick, and weak, but you needed to do something. You had to make a move for your knife, but how fast was he? If he saw that coming, could he be quick enough to stop you? You didn’t have much choice, though, it was this or let him pry your eyelids open and kill you.

Before he reached you, however, there was a loud crash in the store beyond, and a sick thump like a body hitting the floor. Another shattering sound followed, chased by a low grunt. Another body hit the floor.

You felt the mind villain pause over you, then he was gathering you up in his arms, settling in behind you, one arm banded across yours to keep them at your sides. You groaned. You would have never been fast enough to grab your knife. Your whole body felt like jello and just the simple movement of tugging you upright made you feel like you had to vomit.

A booted foot kicked open the employee door and you cracked open your eyes to see a familiar head of indigo hair. A mixture of relief and concern went through you when you saw Shinsou’s face, eyes hungrily tracing his pretty features. He had his eyes closed, and that mask covered the lower half of his face again.

“Don’t say anything,” the villain behind you commanded, and a blade flashed up to your throat. You tensed, not having felt him go for your trimming blade. But, you noted as the knife pressed firmly to the delicate skin of your neck, it felt much smaller, much less clumsy than a gardening tool. This was a different knife.

“We finally meet, Shinsou,” the villain behind you sneered. “I’d heard you’d been working my case. I have to say, it’s a brilliant idea, having the Commission wipe all your records and keep you an unknown. Just perfect for a quirk like yours. But as you well know, nothing can be hidden from quirks like ours. You can pry anything out of anyone’s brain with just a question and I...well, I can torture it out of them.”

Your brain churned with this new information. So Shinsou did have a mind control quirk, as suspected. But it wasn’t triggered visually, as this villain’s quirk was. And this villain had a quirk far, far different from what you had suspected all this time. He was able to torture people, to impose pain and visions on them that drove them to the edge of sanity and sometimes beyond. It explained why people had either blacked out or killed themselves. You might have done so if you hadn’t been able to throw it off...

You thought back to the two girls who had taken their own lives at the casino. Their friend had described them as strong, and you wondered they had thrown it off at first too, if it had anything to do with the way the villain had called you stubborn, had told you that this time, what he did to you would hurt so badly that you would kill yourself to escape it.

You didn’t have time to speculate on anything else, however, as he spoke over your shoulder again. “Now open your eyes, please, or I’ll kill the girl.”

Shinsou went still in front of you. Your stomach dropped.

“Don’t do it,” you said, and the knife bit into your throat harder. The villain huffed an annoyed breath into the back of your neck.

“You have three seconds before I cut her throat,” he said impatiently.

Shinsou’s eyes shot open and your heart sank. You just managed to catch a flash of familiar violet before he was curling in on himself, gasping, and collapsing to the floor as you had. You felt the villain’s mouth curl into a smirk, and then he was turning you in his arms to look up at his face too.

You shut your eyes again, and the knife slid gently over your skin.

“Open your eyes, darling, or I’ll do it myself,” he said. You could hear how annoyed he was at your resistance. “I do so hate to get my hands dirty, but I will.”

Your hands trembled. If you could just get to your knife…

He didn’t leave you a choice, one hand prying an eyelid open. As soon as he did, your world ignited in flames again, and you dropped from his arms onto the floor, landing painfully on your shoulder.

It hurt worse this time, everything a thousand times worse, and you didn’t know how it was possible to be in this much pain. The entire outside of your body felt like it was on fire and flame danced in your vision, it was only a matter of time until the flame ate away at your skin and entered your body, burned you from the inside out, and you had to stop it, had to find some way to end it so you didn’t have to suffer--

A gentle brush tugged at the back of your mind.

You writhed. Your skin felt like it was on fire but the flames hadn’t yet eaten through your flesh, so what was moving in the recesses of your brain? Had he started a fire in your skull too?

There was a tug again, deep in your mind, a strange movement like you were on the verge of remembering something. No, this wasn’t fire--

You had just enough capacity left in your brain to realize this was familiar. This was something you had felt before. It was associated with someone...a hot mouth...the color purple...long fingered hands extending a white cup…

Shinsou.

This was Shinsou. He was using his quirk.

You could barely scrape together enough thought to focus on this. Shinsou...what had the villain said about Shinsou? “You can pry anything out of anyone’s brain with just a question,” he’d said. If Shinsou was asking a question, why wasn’t it working then? Why could you feel him but why was nothing else happening? Was he just trying to let you know he was here with you at the end?

A memory flitted through the haze of pain. “Energy can still be emitted and directed. You need only meet the proper conditions for it to be fully utilized,” Shinsou had said of mental quirks, when you had been going through case files all those weeks ago. Mental quirk users were like vampires, you’d thought then. They needed to be invited in.

Shinsou was asking to be invited in.

“Please,” you gasped out through a raw throat, “I trust you.”

There was a small tension at the back of your mind like a dendron snapping into place, before the fire in front of you flickered out and the flames licking at your skin cooled and guttered. You exhaled against the cool tile of the floor, fighting down a feeling of nausea. You could see your fingers shaking where they had gritted into claws against the tile.

You looked up for Shinsou but found him in the same state as before, writhing wildly on the floor. It was clear he was still in the thrall of the villain’s quirk, but he was rasping something like he was trying to ask you a question.

“--think you can move?” he gasped.

Could he hear you?

“No,” you said, pushing the thought as hard as you could against that small part of your mind where you could still feel him. “I need you to help.”

He didn’t respond and you wondered for a long time if he hadn’t heard you, if nothing you said or did could cut through that haze of pain.

Then, “Catch him,” he commanded.

You rose like a puppet on a string. Every neuron in your body screamed against it but still you rose, clambering to your feet and pulling the trimming knife out of your belt. You moved quietly to the employee door, peering out beyond. The mind villain’s back was to you, but you could see his shoulder moving, struggling to slice through knots in Shinsou’s binding cloth where it was looped around the two other villains. Both were unconscious.

Slowly, you eased the door open and crept out. You moved cautiously through the store, hardly making a single sound. And then you were in range.

Your knife plunged down into his arm and he screamed, whirling on you. You weren’t fast enough to close your eyes but nothing happened, and he blinked in confusion. Bewilderment swelled within you as well--could he not influence your mind if Shinsou was already controlling it? You didn't pause to wonder, instead using the moment to your opportunity, kicking his legs out from under him and leaping on top of him, pulling your knife out and plunging it back into the meat of his arm again.

He screamed and you grabbed the end of Shinsou’s binding cloth, looping it over his good hand and pulling firm. At once, it seemed like the fabric activated, hardening into something like a carbon fiber that the villain couldn’t break free from. As he struggled you looped more of the cloth around the arm you’d stabbed and pulled that tight too.

Then you pulled off your jacket and dumped it over his head, tying off the ends of your sleeves to create a makeshift blindfold. Not your best work but it would have to do.

Then you ran to the door of the shop and kicked it open, yelling out into the street. “I’ve got him! We’ve got all three of them!”

At once there was a crush of officers filtering through the door, taking in the mess of glass and bodies. Only then did you feel Shinsou’s quirk release and you slumped to the floor, boneless. Aya stopped when she saw you, rushing over to stoop at your side.

“Are you okay?” she asked, and you nodded.

“I’m not hurt. Just--that villain, he got me with his quirk. I just need a second.”

She nodded but continued to hover over you.

“Can you get quirk restraints on him, please? Everyone is still under the influence of his quirk.”

This got her attention and she moved away from you, striding over to the group of officers surrounding the villain. She pulled restraints from her belt and quickly buckled them over his wrists. In the corner of your eye, you could see several victims still, slumping out of their rigid poses and their tremors tapering off.

A minute later, the door to the back room poked open and you saw a riot of purple hair emerge. You were back on your feet before you knew what you were doing.

The next thing you realized, you had crossed the room, seized a fistful of his jumpsuit, and pulled Shinsou down into a kiss. He stiffened for a moment, surprised, but then he was enthusiastically returning the favor, warm hands settling on your waist. A swirling wave of so many emotions washed through you--embarrassment, guilt, relief--and you pressed yourself against him harder.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you said when you finally managed to pull yourself away from him, staring up into those violet eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

He looked down at you carefully. “You thought I was the villain.”

It wasn’t a question.

You nodded, stomach twisting. “You wouldn’t tell me why you were here, and then I thought--when you caught the magnet villain--I thought you caught him because he looked at you. I didn’t realize, you threw your voice, didn’t you? That’s why I thought I heard the captain. Is that what the mask is for?”

Shinsou nodded slowly. “So you thought the quirks lined up.”

“Yes,” you cringed, all your anxiety and confusion feeling like it was bubbling up to the surface. “But you were just--you were being so shady. You wouldn’t tell me anything and you seemed to know too much about his quirk, and then you were flirting with me, and it just didn’t make sense, and--”

A long fingered hand pressed to your mouth, and an indigo eyebrow went up. “You thought I was the villain because I was flirting with you?”

A flush spread across your cheeks. “Well, I mean. I thought--it was part of it.”

He had the gall to look amused. “But not because of my quirk?”

You stared at him. “No? I mean, yes, when I thought it lined up with the villain’s quirk, which, turns out we got that one super wrong. But you didn’t tell me anything! Why the hell wouldn’t you just tell me about your fucking quirk in the first place? Why the hell did you have to hide everything?”

Your voice raised into a shrill point at the end, and you saw several policemen around you wince. You flushed again.

Shinsou smirked down at you. “It’s against Commission policy for me to share details of my quirk. I am an underground hero and my success depends on people not knowing the details of my power.”

Okay, that made some sense, but still. “I’m your partner. Why the hell would you have to hide that from me?”

He shifted and you realized that one of his hands was still gripping your waist, hot through the fabric of your shirt. “We were tracking down someone whose powers were suspected to closely parallel mine. What would I do if he was able to brainwash any of you and ask you the details of my quirk?”

Oh.

Oh, that made sense.

For some reason that only frustrated you more. “Okay, well yes--but he found out anyway! They knew not to answer you!”

“Which you and I will be looking into next, now that they’re caught,” Shinsou said lightly.

The promise of a new case tickled your interest. "You and I," he’d said, though. He really wanted you helping, after what you’d just told him?

“You and I?” you asked, and he smiled. It looked obscenely pretty on him, now that you had occasion to notice, and without the threat of his villainy hanging over your head, it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Well, after you’ve had a chance to relax, kitten,” he said, his tone dipping low. “You did promise me that you would when you solved this case. And I promised you that I would hold you to that.”

Sudden heat pooled in your abdomen, chasing out the guilt and leaving no room for anything else.

“Uh,” you said dumbly, staring up at those violet eyes. They were bright again, and this time you realized you were finally about to be let in on the secret that always seemed to hide behind them. “Yeah you’d better do that. Like, right now.”

His smile widened. “Better wrap things up quick here, then.”

He hadn’t used his power on you, but he might as well have. In a fraction of a second, you’d turned on your heel and scrambled over to Aya where she was conversing in quiet tones with a few other detectives.

“Uh, I need you to take over the wrap up,” you said, trying to sound normal. “I think I need some rest and recovery after everything that just happened.”

Her dark eyes flicked knowingly over you. “Sure. Rest and recovery, huh?”

You would have told her to shut up if the other officers hadn’t been watching. “Yes,” you hissed instead, hating the way her smirk deepened her dimples. “Recovery.”

“Well I wish you a very thorough recovery,” she said, visibly fighting down a laugh as she waved you off.

It was only the pull of Shinsou’s presence behind you that kept you from starting something with her.

“I’ll take her home, make sure she’s okay,” Shinsou said, grasping your arm and pulling you away from your coworkers before you could get another word out.

He pulled you through the rubble and glass into the afternoon sun. He seemed to have a particular destination in mind, leading you down a series of winding city blocks. You followed him sedately, content with his hand on your wrist, his warmth at your side. It was frankly concerning how compelling his mere presence was, and without any other concerns looming over you, you felt like you might lose yourself in it.

You thought back to that first day, the way his presence had washed over you, layered with subtle command. You honestly should have known from the second you stepped through the door.

“Does it bother you?” you asked after he led you into what looked like an apartment building, pulling you up the stairs to the third floor. He paused where he had started to unlock a door to look at you in question. “That I thought you were the villain? I know that mind quirk users, you--uh--you don’t have it easy.”

He considered this. “It is considered a very villainous quirk.”

This bothered you. “I want you to try something.”

An eyebrow went up. “We are trying something.”

You flushed. “Not--that. Well, that, but first I want you to use your power on me and ask me something.”

He pushed the door open and pulled you inside. You caught a vague glimpse of a fairly comfortable looking apartment, but you couldn’t pull your attention far enough away from him to inspect it in any depth.

“Why would I do that?” he asked.

“Because I want you to know I’m telling the truth,” you said firmly.

He gestured you over to his couch, something dark and plush and soft, and you sank into it easily.

“I want you to ask me if I trust you,” you said, still watching him carefully.

A small smile tugged at his mouth, and he came to crouch down in front of you, taking your hands in his. “I think I get the idea, kitten.”

“No,” you said, frustrated. You wanted him to hear this. This little shit was going to do what you told him to, at least once. “And that wasn’t a request, either. That was an order, contractor.”

A spark lit up in his gaze and he leaned forward, smile going dark. “You know what you’re asking for, kitten?”

“I do,” you replied, and that was the last thing you managed before you felt him take control. There was that gentle feeling of something sliding into place, and you felt the tension leave your body. Shinsou’s hands tightened around yours.

“Then tell me honestly, kitten,” Shinsou said, watching you very intently. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you said instantly. You’d known this was the case, after everything, but a wave of relief washed through you to hear it said so plainly, without room for any more doubt. Shinsou looked similarly pleased to hear it, and you knew you’d done the right thing to ask him for this.

Then his look shifted into something mischievous and you panicked.

“And tell me something else, kitten. What do you think of me?”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. “You’re the prettiest person I have ever seen and you drive me crazy and your hair is so fucking messy and your fingers are so long and I wanted you to fuck me the second you sassed me at my desk and I’m so happy you’re not the villain because it was honestly driving me insane being so attracted to you.”

You burned with embarrassment, and would have blushed if you could have done anything without his leave.

He laughed, looking very interested, and one of those long fingers traced over your open palm. “Cute, kitten. And be honest with me just one more time. Would you be opposed if I fucked you like this? Under my control, made you forget everything else but me?”

“Please,” you heard yourself say, and then his mouth was on yours for the third time today.

“Kiss me,” he ordered as his lips touched yours, and you complied enthusiastically, his quirk not the only thing making you obey. The heat of the kiss scorched all the thoughts straight out of your brain.

“You’ll tell me if I’m doing anything you don’t want,” he said when he let you go to kiss down your neck, and you felt the order sink under your skin like a stone in a pond. You wondered for a brief, mortifying second if there was anything he could do to you that you didn’t want. “Now stay still, kitten, unless you want to stop me.”

His hands made quick work of your shirt and pants before he spread you out gently on his couch, and he quickly covered you with his own body, narrow hips settling in between yours. He kissed you again, taking his time, until you thought you might go crazy if he didn’t do something, if he didn’t deliver on the promise that the heat of his body was making in between your thighs. You could feel him smirk through the kiss as if he knew what you were thinking. You tried moving, so wildly furious with him, but couldn’t, pinned in place by your own desire. "Stay still unless you want to stop me," he’d said. You wanted anything but that.

Right when you thought you might literally die if he didn’t touch you, he shifted, kissing a path lower and lower down your chest until he reached your panties, and he played with the edge of them with one long finger.

“Do you want me to kiss you here too, kitten?” he asked.

“Yes,” you gasped before he could even finish the question, feeling like you could combust from the vicious mixture of embarrassment and arousal bursting within you.

A gleam in his violet eyes was all the warning you had before he peeled your underwear down and sealed his mouth over you. You would have bucked violently if you could have--instead, you were helpless to do anything but let out a shivery moan. Calloused fingers came up to dip inside you as he worked your clit mercilessly, and you nearly sobbed with the feeling.

“Look at me,” he commanded, unlatching his mouth from you. A finger swirled over your clit as the others plunged inside you. “Mmm, gorgeous, kitten. You feel so incredible, you’re going to take me so well, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you huffed again.

He smiled. “Knew that you would. Now I want to try one more thing before I give you what you want, kitten. Do you want to see what else my quirk can do?”

“Yes, Hitoshi, please,” you practically begged.

You were helpless to do anything, then, but watch as he pulled his fingers from you, and his smile turned predatory. “Cum for me.”

Instantly, everything inside you seized up, and you were climaxing with no build up, thrown over the edge with no warning. Shinsou watched with unabashed interest, those purple eyes pinning you in place with just as much force as his quirk.

“The hardest you ever have,” he added and you sobbed, screaming out something that might have been his name or might have been nothing like a word at all. Heat and pleasure swept through you in a white wave, and you thought you might faint from the overwhelming force of it. Hitoshi made it worse by sealing his mouth back over you and sucking delicately. You orgasmed for what felt like hours but must have been much shorter before you felt him finally release you. You slumped into the softness of his couch, Hitoshi still working you carefully with his mouth and tongue.

“Was that okay, kitten?” he finally asked when you’d gone completely boneless beneath him.

“Oh my god, yes,” you slurred. “I can’t believe you exist. That was incredible.”

Smug satisfaction painted his pretty features, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel annoyed with him.

“I did promise,” he said, crawling back over you to slip back in between your thighs. You could feel him hard against your core beneath his pants, and, incredibly, heat settled behind your abdomen again.

“Now let’s see just how relaxed we can get you, kitten,” he said, pressing his mouth back to yours. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him harder into you.

And that was the last time either of you managed a coherent word until morning.

#shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha #fanfic #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #tw: suicide mention #shinsou hitoshi #tw: consensual mind control #smut

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owlespresso · 4 years ago

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Tremble, Duck & Weave . V

At last. Also on my ao3, which can be found here. If you’re interested in supporting my work or ordering your own, my commission terms can be found here and my ko-fi is here. Before we begin, please make sure all cellular devices are off. Thank you, and enjoy the show.

If Aymeric were to afford his late father one compliment, it would be his impeccable organizational skills. The perfection of each neat, abet packed drawer and cabinet makes it much easier to toss out items and documents he has no use for. He disposes of letters and paperwork and gauche items that only serve to take up space, skimming through texts and wrinkling his nose at every lie he sees. If nothing else, the archbishop kept his story straight, consistently assuring local leaders of his virtue and desires for a simple peace.

Never does he betray his wretched greed, nor does he betray earthly desires, nor does he disclose the truth of his earthly relationships.

“Never would I forsake my sacred oath for the sake of such petty indulgences,” one letter insists. Aymeric, without even processing it, reads it in his fathers voice and hears every lofty intonation, feels the faux passion oozing from every word. “The Scion of the de Borel family is not my flesh and blood.”

Aymeric’s lips curl into a deep frown, cold fingers tensed on the parchment. Another fruitless attempt to deny him of his true heritage, another desperate attempt for the archbishop to preserve his saintly image. Aymeric doesn’t know what’s more pitiful, the ceaselessness of his father’s denial or the fact that he had to interact with this man every day.

A loveless man, Aymeric thinks, crinkling the paper. There’s no reason to linger on a man long dead, not when he’s already resolved to be different, to be better.

His brows pinch into a firm scowl, lips pursed in a deep frown. His tumultuous thoughts near split his head, every letter and possession an unfortunate reminder—

A knock breaks the stifling quiet and forces his spine rigid. As with every spontaneous visit he receives, he schools his demeanor into something friendly and relaxed, something unemotional and civil.

“Come in,” he calls mere moments later.

The tall, dark doors open. Zephirin’s form, adorned in rich blues and gleaming white, stands out stark against the darkened shadows of the hall. He cuts across the tiled floor, greaves clanking with each long step.

“Pardon the interruption, my lord,” Zephirin regards him with trademark impassiveness. “I have information of the utmost importance to share with you.”

The prompts Aymeric to raise a brow. Long has he worked aside the men of the Heavensward, but never has he grown confident in his abilities to read Zephirin. However, he has always been sure that his father kept an array of secrets, any of which could pose a threat to himself or Ishgard. Due to the recency of his ascension, he made the bold choice to not yet question any of the ward. He would attract more flies with honey than with vinegar. Giving them time to adjust, know and trust him would bear richer fruits than pressuring them to spill his father’s precious secrets. Perhaps that patience is finally paying off.

“You may speak,” Aymeric nods, fingers pressing the papers on the desk flat to the polished wood.

“My lord, I assume you are privy to the existence of the Ascians?” Zephirin’s inquiry nearly makes his brows raise, yet he keeps firm hold of his expression, a face of practiced, steady neutrality.

“I am.” Immortal creatures who were a source of strife to every nation and settlement, known for inflaming local beast tribes into summoning deadly primals. “Why, pray tell?” He wouldn’t put it past his father to break bread with some of the world’s most notorious troublemakers, and he knows better than to hope otherwise.

The migraine blossoming behind his forehead thuds into the foreground. The very last thing Ishgard needs is pressure from another faction. Not whilst they’re in the middle of a transitional period. He knows that change must be introduced slowly for the people to accept it. He already has the Dravanians clawing at the wall every chance they get, and the alliance still knocks on the city’s gates semi-regularly. Aymeric is not an easily agitated man, yet there is only so much he can take before his hinges rust and his temper runs out.

“Before the Archbishop’s untimely death, they approached him offering an alliance,” Zephirin is watching him carefully, closely, measured in his words and demeanor. The timbre of his voice is neutral and passive. “He accepted with the intent of ascertaining their true goal and betraying them when his plans reached fruition. It is my full belief that he never intended to truly ally with them.”

Of course, Aymeric says to himself, Thordan would keep such a crucial secret from him. He wonders if the wretch he barely called a father is laughing at him from the hells below, for now he will surely be expected to continue this trite charade with the Ascians. It is likely that they will approach him openly, expect him to break bread with them despite their transgressions against the star as a whole.

He fancies himself a man with a long fuse, but the sudden revelation makes his fingers curl. He leans forward with the weight of sudden news, flattening his hands against the desk.

“It is a pity he did not disclose the details of something so completely crucial to the future of our nation,” Aymeric takes in a deep breath and sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “The Ascians are not to be easily trifled with. Regardless of his ability to to predict and handle them, I should have been informed much, much earlier.”

“My sincerest apologies, my lord,” Zephirin begins, the barest hint of apology seeping into his otherwise blank expression. “The Knights of the Round—”

“No. I am not in the mood to entertain trite excuses,” Aymeric replies, tone clipped as he restrains himself. There’s much he wants to say, but Zephirin needs not to be the target of his misplaced aggression. “Go. There is much that still has to be done before the day’s end. I will see to the Ascians this evening. Go about your normal duties until you are needed.” A newfound tension sweeps over his entire body and mind as he returns to the long road ahead. Perhaps some of his father’s files will shed some light on the situation.

- - -

The morning descends upon you with firm vengeance. Though your wounds have for the most part aided by Ishgard’s finest astrologian, the aches and phantom pains still wrack you. The plush blankets that curl around your body make up a warm nest you never hope to leave. The mattress is soft and gentle on your back. Still, it is a comfort most difficult to enjoy whilst there is so much work to be done.

Thus, you tumble out of your nest and barely catch yourself on your feet. Your morning routine is scarcely different from the one you had before your ejection from Ul’dah, yet the pain slows you. The cold claws settled within your muscles and bones make it difficult to move with your former swiftness. Climbing out of the shower is pure agony. Even though you’re inside, Ishgard’s vicious climate thwarts you at every turn. Only when you’re clothed are you at last at ease.

The Ishgardian garb is made of lush cottons that loosely swaddle you, easy on the body and meant to avoid aggravating your skin. Your hands duck into your sleeves, absentmindedly playing with the fabric as you descend the stairs.

Artoirel awaits you at the bottom, leaning casually against the banister. He sweeps out from his resting position with a smile at the sight of you, expression warm and welcoming.

“Good morning,” he says. His posture is casual, but his gaze is searching as it rolls you up and down. Curious, explorative. “How are you?”

“Good morning.” You withdraw into yourself ever so slightly, doing your best not to wilt underneath his gaze. “I’m well.”

“Haurchefant is tending to his duties today, but I do hope I can measure up to him in the realm of being pleasant company. Would you grace me with your presence for today’s breakfast?”

And to that, you have no objections. Artoirel cuts an intimidating figure, physically, but his gentlemanly attitude softens his sharp features. He’s something you’d expect from a wealthy prospective suitor in a romance novel.

Breakfast is a wide array of Ishgard’s finest dishes—foods hearty and rich in nature. It’s a struggle to not scarf down your portions, but easy conversation with Artoirel helps you space out your bites.

It’s all pleasantries at first. He attempts to dive beneath who you are outside of your status as the Warrior of Light, asks about your skills and your hobbies, what you enjoy doing outside of slaying gods and monsters alike. He’s picture perfect. Even the bites he takes of his foot are petite and polite, not a crumb to be seen on the corners of his lips. His expression flexes, the space between his eyebrows wrinkling. He looks like he’s grasping for words, lips pursing as he stares down his remaining food.

“Have any of the nobility made a bad impression on you?” he asks out of the blue, a piece of bacon perched atop his fork.

“No. Not yet, at least,” you look down at your potatoes, eyeing the way the chandelier light bounces off the silverware. It’s a surprising line of conversation to go down, but his concern touches you.

“Full glad am I to hear that. I would hate for any of my more… judgmental peers to sully your experience,” his voice is soft and delicate, a type of gentility that makes your heart squeeze. “However, I must encourage you to be cautious. Ishgardian high society can be… especially brutal to the few foreign guests we receive. Should you encounter any hostility, do not hesitate to inform me. I cannot guarantee any consequences for those in rival houses, but be assured that we at House Fortemps do not share the same sentiments.”

It’s reassuring to hear him so concerned with your reputation and well-being. You’re a new stranger to Ishgard, and there’s no doubt that everyone from the high borne to the lowly of the Brume can tell. Being thrust into such a foreign environment after what you endured has made you feel lost and overly dependent on your connections here. And… perhaps you are. But Artoirel’s devoted sentiments soothe you against your better judgment.

You don’t think much of it now, nor do you think much of it when you’re called down for lunch. Or dinner. It’s only right for the count to call all the residents and guests in his home for meals.

Emmanellain joins you for dinner that night. His eyes glint cleverly, his very presence incessant in its curiosity.

“To think, the champion of the ixal could be felled so succinctly!” he crows after you recount your deadly battle with Garuda. “Ah, I remember Haurchefant arriving home with stars in his eyes, that night. Word of your grand exploit was all he wished to speak of—well, besides your form… and the lovely curves that adorn said form.”

Ah. Long have you been aware of Haurchefant’s growing… intrigue in you, but never has it been so plainly observed by another. How much had he said about you? Your cheeks warmed as you thought over the possibilities, distracted from the raise of Artoirel’s voice as he reprimands his brother.

Haurchefant doesn’t return. Artoirel helpfully informs you that he’s seeing to his very last post at Camp Dragonhead before he returns to fully join the Heavensward. His absence leaves you feeling emptier than usual.

And when you cannot sleep, you occupy yourself with studying Ishgardian history. Much to your frustration, you can’t lift more than four of the tomes at once without your arms and shoulders screaming in protest, so you begrudgingly settle for three. You read throughout the night and find that the founding of the city state alone is enough to cover two-hundred or so pages.

A few hours before dawn, you dim the light and settle back against the pillows, filtering in and out of consciousness until you need to use the bathroom.

You eat breakfast with Artoirel again that morning, and promptly decide you need to take a walk for your own sanity. Manor Fortemps is a splendous place to live, but you can only stand being cooped up for so long before you lose your mind. You make sure to throw on a scarf and some knitted gloves that had been fetched for you, all bundled up and equipped as diligently as possible against the merciless cold.

Though you still don’t have a handle on the city’s layout, you believe asking for directions will serve you just fine. The manor is practically a landmark. Any local worth their salt should be able to point you in its direction. You assure yourself as you make your way towards the grand double doors.

“Oh, are you taking a walk?” Artoirel’s voice pipes up, the lord’s head peeking out from behind a nearby corner.

“Yes. I just wanted to get some fresh air, is all,” you inform him with a small shrug. He steps fully into view, his gaze soft and his smile sweet as he regards you.

“Ah, I was just about to head to the astrologicum. Would you care to accompany me?” He tilts his head ever so slightly as he inquires, leaving you struggling for an answer. On one hand, you likely should visit. If you weren’t mistaken, the man who treated your wounds is an astrologian. On the other… your entire stay in Ishgard has been a procession of well-meaning individuals constantly fretting about and crowding you. Even a moment outside alone would help combat the ceaseless, crushing sense of helplessness it has left you with.

Before you can even answer, Artoirel glances past you, gaze sparking with recognition as he spots one of the housekeepers.

“Ah! Adrienne, the Warrior of Light and I are about to take a visit to the astrologicum. Should Emmanellain return before us, kindly to tell him that the tarte tatin is to be shared. I will not have a repeat incident of last week.” His voice carries a firm edge to it at the end of his sentence, exasperation barely kept from breaching the surface. He shakes his head the housekeeper says an affirmative and scurries off, turning back to you with a sheepish smile.

“My apologies. The last time our chef prepared tarte tatin, he sneaked in and pillaged the entire share before dinner even started,” Artoirel shook his head with a sigh. “At times, I can’t help but think Honoroit is more suited to his position than he is… but that’s nothing for you to worry about.” He dismisses the matter with a wave of his hand as he throws his coat over his shoulders. A shame. The nosier part of you wishes he had continued. It’s no secret that his younger brother is a divisive subject among the family due to his immaturity and habitual slacking off, but you’ve heard quite little of the boy who follows him around like a lost puppy.

“I have an acquaintance at the astrologicum who was hoping to meet you.” Artoirel, for the most part, seems genuinely oblivious to your internal monologue. He holds the door open like the truest of gentlemen and sticks close to your side as he swans elegantly down the street. Even his walk is refined, long legs sweeping nimbly over the concrete.

You try to keep your crestfallenness hidden as you follow, hoping Artoirel’s insistence is simply him overcompensating in an effort to be a good host. You’re in no shape to deny him at the moment—he’s the count, and he’s so graciously allowing you to stay in his home. Should he decide to shove you out the front gates, you’ll surely have nowhere to go.

You don’t know how you haven’t realized the potential danger in that until now.

- - -

You accompany him to the astrologicum to placate him.

You try to take your leave after dinner, hoping he’ll be too busy finishing off dessert to notice you slinking towards the living room. He does, of course. And he continues to do so. Every attempt you make to leave on your own winds up inevitably thwarted underneath his watchful gaze.

He accompanies you on walks, and you accompany him on small errands whenever he offers, figuring fresh air with him is better than none at all.

“Foot traffic is high this time of day, especially after the archbishop mandated a longer break time for the construction workers down at the lower Ishgard. I dearly hope the noise has not kept you from your sleep.” Artoirel sighs as he accompanies you through the crowd, a palm flat to your lower back.

“Forgive my intrusion, but I cannot help notice that you have been favoring your right leg. Perhaps it would be a better idea to remain inside and rest? I imagine Urianger will be quite cross with Haurchefant and I if your recovery is hampered in any way.” Artoirel says imploringly, his eyes sweet and his lashes long as he bats them.

“We have a gazebo in the gardens if you would like somewhere to enjoy a spot of fresh air,” he informs you passively over the dinner table. “Not much grows out there these days, but it has been swept down and cleaned up for your use.”

It doesn’t reassure you. The next two days are fraught with uncertainty as you await Haurchefant’s return. Conversations with Alphinaud and Tataru are a brief reprieve from the blossoming paranoia, but you deign to not tell them the truth. There’s no doubt that Alphinaud will march straight to wherever Artoirel happens to be and demand answers.

If this is all some massive understanding, you don’t want to risk jeopardizing your relationship with your host. You keep Artoirel’s suspicious insistence on keeping you cooped up a secret, even as the stress it invokes worsens your condition.

However, you are nothing if not resourceful. The balcony door to your room has remained unopened throughout your short stay. Exiting from the second level had been beyond your capabilities given your current status, but desperate times call for desperate measures. (And trapped creatures often make irrational decisions.)

Your muscles strain under the pressure of holding yourself up as you lower onto a conveniently close ledge, and then onto a trash can nestled against the brick wall. The loud rattle of the metal lid against the can makes you flinch, but the side street is blessedly empty.

Just like that, you’re free. The phantom pains grip you tight and dig into your ilms of muscle, causing you to buckle. One of your hands finds purchase against the textured brick wall, gasps rattling in and out of your lungs as you struggle to steady yourself. Spikes of frigid pain lash out at your head, the space above your eyes throbbing as you attempt to reign it all in. Your thick gloves keep your nails from grating along the brick, something you find yourself suddenly grateful for as the pain begins to clear.

You focus simply on pulling the breath in and out of your lungs, the cold air drying your throat. The rest of the world dims as you refuse to focus on it, the agony ebbing away into blissful nothingness. Only then are you able to straighten up, gaze clear as you look down the long alleyway. Ishgard’s steep spires and long roads suddenly seem to curl around you, the prospect of navigating them alone somehow intimidating.

Weeks ago, you would have been fine with exploring without a chaperone.

You’re only going on a short walk, you rationalize. Your body moves accordingly as you urge it forward, heading out of the alleyway and onto the streets proper. Each step forward is another to be proud of, you try and tell yourself, but the words ring feeble and hollow in the void of your consciousness.

- - -

Estinien, for better or for worse, has grown accustomed to traveling near exclusively via rooftop. The streets below are littered with strangers who are able to perceive him. It’s daunting in ways he refuses to admit to. The stench of raw Ishgard rubs foul against his nose when he mingles among the masses, an affront to his sharpened senses. At least the beast inside of him knows it does not belong.

Powdery snow drifts from the grey sky, dotting his hoarfrost lashes, threatening to blur his vision as they nearly melt on impact. Here, legs perched upon the thin ledge of a building’s high spire, he can comfortably separate and spectate the writhing populace. Idle people-watching has become a disturbingly frequent indulgence in between his missions and tasks.

It helps distract him from the red vines that curl around the tall buildings, from the patches of disembodied flesh that decorate the cobblestone ground. Features of Ishgard only he can see—the beast trying its hardest to convince him to leave.

Perhaps it is the human part of him that remains that enjoys this passtime, desperate for a vicarious taste of old normalcy. Of belonging. He despises it. He is no longer soft flesh and natural composition. He is hard edges and scales, branching horns and gnashing teeth all wrapped neatly under the illusion of humanity. If his glamor were to be dispelled, they would surely throw rocks and knives and weapons of every sort in his direction despite all he has done to protect them.

So he broods, and he is willing to admit that he broods. He consumes the crowd beneath him with wide sweeps of his piercing gaze.

An old woman hands over a coin purse in exchange for a pair of mittens. A child in the middle of a game of tag slips on a patch of ice, tumbling onto his knee. He hears the resulting yelp, despite his distance. The beginnings of warm, childhood nostalgia creep up on him. His jaw tightens as he prepares to beat it back—oh.

He notices someone decidedly different from the rest of the crowd. A figure that stands fulms and fulms apart, one he has seen before. The Warrior of Light. You look decidedly healthier than you had the last time he had laid eyes upon you, sheltered in the cloistered bookman’s keep. You had been crumpled by your injuries, a mess of an individual dragged in, hanging onto life by a mere thread.

You’re walking around, at the very least. Still a tad gaunt. The bags underneath your eyes are new, but he supposes you have plenty to lose sleep over after everything you have been through. He is no stranger to loss. He knows how it can rip a person’s core out, make them a shell of their former self. He sympathizes.

He dismounts his perch, climbs across roofs and spires as he follows you along, glued to the shadows. No one regards him, his armor stained deep grey with the intent of better camouflaging him.

There’s a noticeable stagger to your steps as you visit different merchants, not bothering to actually head inside any of the storefronts. Perhaps the cold is harsh on your injuries. Why, then, are you not inside? He imagines Haurchefant would be on you like a mother hen, though he recalls that the youngest Fortemps child has been sent to Camp Dragonhead for the next few days, overseeing the change of leadership.

A pity, then, that he is not able to stop you as you aimlessly float from stand to stand. With each moment your movements become more labored, more encumbered despite you having nothing on your person. It’s easy to follow you from his position so high above. Eventually, you split off from the crowd, your eyes wide and your arms drawn tightly to yourself. You stumble up the stone steps, across the street and into one of the thin alleyways, thoroughly closed off from the rest of the populace.

It is not sympathy or concern that makes him dismount his perch. The frozen air whips through his long locks and lashes at his eyes as he descends, body instinctively contorting to stick a perfect landing.

It is a curiosity that plants him so firmly before her, a need to know the woman so vaunted and pursued for himself. You, who have so immediately commanded the adoration of Ishgard’s most coveted and quiet astrologian.

You startle as he lands, the sound of the impact ricketing up and down the otherwise empty alley.

- - -

Fatigue jolts up and down your anguished limbs as you trudge through the crowd. Initially, it hadn’t been so bad. Sure, you had been a tad tired after your escape, but your condition quickly snowballed down the slope. Ishgard’s cold seeps into your body even though your thick, cushy clothes. Your capricious escape leaves you in a poor state by the time you reach the marketplace.

Hells, you wouldn’t be surprised if you managed to exacerbate your wounds in the process. Still, you flutter from stand to stand, half-heartedly looking over merchants’ wares until the whimsy to move on strikes you. It helps distract from your new, pounding headache.

One of the most appealing booths has little puppets that are hand-sewn. An array of cute, fuzzy characters is lined up atop the wooden table, alongside some plain stuffed animals. Had you actually brought your coin purse, you undoubtedly would have purchased something. One of the aforementioned plushes is a grey-pelted fox wearing a stone-faced expression, something about it reminding you of ser Aymeric.

Unfortunately, the pain grows too great. Its bitter grip ensnares you, making your breath shorten and your body tremble as you continue your trek. You’ve overstayed your welcome. You should return home. To Manor Fortemps.

You split from the crowd, heading in the direction you believe is right. It’s difficult to keep your full mental faculties whilst so distracted, so you stumble down the alley and hope for the best. The dark brick walls make the path thin and constricting.

It’s by pure chance that you manage to see a flash of red above you before it lands. It’s a fluid blur of motion, a figure descending from the heavens that you don’t quite comprehend until it lands.

Brilliant plates of red armor wrap the broad figure’s body tight. The odd pikes that extend from its form and the angular nature of the sculpt let you know this is a dragoon, albeit unlike anyone you’ve ever seen before. The helmet is absent, allowing you to fully view the individual’s face.

He possesses hardened, sharp features. A cut jawline and a nose with a high bridge. His eyes are narrow, irises a shade of icy blue. It’s the whites of his eyes that take you off guard—stained a deep crimson. Long strands of snowy hair frame his face and brush against his jawline. All things that catch your attention for a fraction of the moment, but what draws your alarm are the two, blackened horns that arch from his skull, curling backwards slightly, raised to the sky. His cheekbones are adorned with glimmering, black scales. They gleam red where the light catches off them.

Sickly, red lines akin to veins scatter across either cheek from his eyes. It’s nothing you’ve ever seen before.

You don’t see it as much as you feel it, waves of inky black void that roll off him like fog or flame. He is the picture of everything Ishgard fears all at once, the corruption of their own people by the dragons who have kept them in stalemate for hundreds of years.

Your breath stalls in your lungs, every muscle in your body seeming to tense as you struggle to comprehend his visage. Upon closer inspection, his form is absent of the gauntlets most dragoons wear. Another thick layer of scaling coats his arms from the elbows down, the tips of his fingers curling into sharp claws.

“The Warrior of Light,” he addresses you contemplatively, but his expression belies disappointment. “I had not expected to see you out of your sickbed so soon—though it looks like you’ve flown the nest before you were ready.”

“Who—what are you?” you stammer, coherency returning to you in staggered stages. You hunch against the cold, brick wall, eyes near the size of saucers as you stare him down. You don’t dare shift your gaze away from him.

The droll disappointment that colors his features vanishes, giving way into momentary surprise. One side of his mouth quirks into a crooked, shark-like smile. Even his teeth are refined into sharp points, better for ripping into flesh and chewing bone. He barks a cold, humorless laugh.

“So you can see me,” he remarks idly. The edges of your consciousness begin to burn and fray. The inky splotches that swim at the edges of your vision threaten the view you have of him. “You have truesight yet the first thing you see with it is this wretched form. I almost feel sorry for you. Aymeric was correct in his assumptions about you, though that’s for better or for worse,” he remarks as you feel yourself start to sway. Your hands grow numb. A slow tingle takes your fingertips and strokes down to your palms, sweeping to the rest of your arms.

Any panic that you might feel is swept under the growing void, too exhausted to muster even a drop of emotion.

The last thing you hear before you take the plunge is the clanking of his greaves against the stone ground.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #aymeric de borel #estinien wyrmblood #artoirel de fortemps #final fantasy 14

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