#seaweed-littered

[eurigmorgan]

Seashore. Evening light

[porcelainseashore]

Darkroom

Pairing: RE4R! Leon Kennedy x GN! Reader

Summary: You're a Sunday regular at the darkroom of your local nightclub, finding liberation through sex with random strangers and spontaneous encounters. One night, you meet someone whose touch feels different, and you connect in ways you never expected.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, implied consent, anonymous sex, group sex, public sex (nightclub), voyeurism, anal, fingering, oral (m receiving), creampie, strangers to lovers, romance, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, drug references, swearing.

Author's Note: This is my first time writing gn! reader as I would like to be more inclusive in my work. I’ve also tried to educate myself on the discourse surrounding darkrooms and hope I’ve portrayed them respectfully, as safe spaces created by the gay community.

Special thanks to @alibellerosetta and @sofmoth for beta’ing this piece—you’re simply the best!

AO3 Link | Playlist

Fingertips trailing across the concrete walls of an old wartime bunker, its labyrinthine structure causing you to navigate by adventure and curiosity when you were new, but now, you had the entire layout committed to memory. You drifted through the haze of smoke and rooms—oh so many rooms—littered with nooks and crannies to engage in the kinds of deeds one would get up to in a nightclub like this. 

Brutal, fast-paced techno assaulted your ears, but you welcomed it as you did with the throngs of party-goers passing you by, like swimming through jellyfish and seaweed, in this maddeningly beautiful underwater world. All you could hear was a wall of sound and your own breathing, teeth chattering and chest throbbing as heavy bass reverberated through your body. If you stayed any longer, you would vaporize into thin air. And so, you plunged into the lower depths, down further passageways and corridors to your final destination.

People wouldn’t understand why you do what you do. Why you treated this club like a church—the only one you’d go to religiously every Sunday to get fucked within an inch of your life by complete strangers. Strangers you never saw, and would never meet again. 

You didn’t owe them an explanation, but truth be told, you felt far safer here than in most other places you’d been to. Too many close calls and red flags left you running away from that mess. Here, you were spoiled for choice. You could be whoever you wanted to be, without labels or judgment. Fucking was freedom and creativity. Fucking was an expression of yourself. Fucking was a big fuck you to society that tried to break you, moulding you into preconceived roles, telling you what you should or shouldn’t do.

Despite that, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Your PrEP shot was up to date and you tested frequently. Nothing was a hundred percent foolproof, but it was a risk you were willing to take. You were nearly there, following the invisible wisp of a white rabbit to its lair as the sweet, musky scent of lust and arousal grew stronger.

At the entrance of the darkroom, you paused, lifting your hand as a breeze sifted through your fingers. Funny how cold it could get down in the basement. You wondered if the ghosts of soldiers past could see you now—heart racing in your chest, adrenaline flooding your veins, and butterflies in your stomach—every single time without fail as you stood in front of the innocuous opening in the wall, like a gateway or barrier to another plane. What they would think as you stepped inside, agreeing to the unspoken code of conduct, where it was hunting season, and just like everyone else, you were game.

Inside, it was pitch black, so dark that you could not see, but you could make out the distinct sounds of sheets rustling, the shifting of bodies, light moans, and squelching wet kisses as you felt around the room, slowly putting one foot forward, and then the other, like the blind leading the blind. As your eyes adjusted to the surroundings, movements blurred at the corners, amorphous shapes materializing before you like a séance you had conducted. 

Sometimes you would catch a look, a nod, a gesture—silent, yet reminding you that what you were seeing was real. Hands passed along your body, and you imagined this must be what it feels like to traverse through clouds—touching, groping, feeling every part of you that you had bared to offer. Shedding clothes like this was so easy, like peeling away the layers of skin you had adorned to protect yourself. 

Someone else’s skin. 

Someone else’s face. 

A thousand masks you reaped and sowed.

Gone, all gone—until you were stripped to the core. 

The immense desire to be naked forever and never dressed again bubbled to the surface, burning a hole in your chest and getting caught in your throat.

A sudden smack against the cheek of your ass sent you reeling forward. The beds were damp as you sank upon them on your knees, gasping in sheer delight. The sting of it was buzzing, your ears filled with white noise as your hair was yanked backwards, mouths latching onto flesh, sensitive and bruising like ripened plum under teeth.

The room was warm and humid, sweltering even, but you couldn’t complain. Heat like that never looked bad on anyone. Sweat dripped from the pores of your skin, creating a thin layer of moonlit sheen. Tongues lapped at the moisture, prickly and salty, running over areas you never knew existed until the heady rushes you felt stated otherwise.

You grasped at the silhouette lying under you. It squirmed—wet, whining, and wanting. Breasts quivering, breathing in deep. Almost instantly, the grip on your hair loosened as you lunged forward, suctioning your lips over a peak, your fingers sliding through her folds, curling against her walls. 

Eventually, you were pushed on top of her, a heavy palm on the arch of your back, ribs crushing, tongues intertwining, and teeth clashing as other hands gripped her wrists firmly over her head. Your pelvises ground together as someone pounded into you from behind; her breasts bouncing violently against your chest with each thrust. The mattress sagged under your weight as it consumed you—suffocating, drowning—and you surrendered to it all in the darkness until you were nothing. A blank canvas, equal to the rest, finally seen as simply human.

You did the devil’s dance, flitting between partners, just as your parents did before you, and their parents—your grandparents—and their ancestors before them. Though instead of fucking raw, they had their own versions of the dance that they were too embarrassed to admit, leaving them forgotten behind closed doors and repressed memories.

Then, another pair of hands descended on your back, their knuckles caressing your shoulders with a bittersweet tenderness, taking you by surprise. Brushing your hair aside, you felt stubble scrape the nape of your neck, his kiss lingering a little longer than a second or two, as if afraid that by confronting you, you might dissolve between his fingers. 

Hot, shaky breath fanned across your ear, “May I?”

A baritone—rich, deep, and weary—with an edge to it like he had been through a never ending war. You wondered why.

In silence, you tilted your head, granting him easier access to your neck. You were his prey; he could bite in hard if he wanted to, but he only nipped—teasingly, playfully, savoring your taste, his large, coarse hands raking your body, gentle and unsure.

This wasn’t his first time; he was too composed for that. You searched for an answer as the tips of his fingers pressed dimples into your skin—temporary marks that spoke of his desire to make you his for the night. His touch ached so badly with longing, you could feel it seep into your bones. It hurt, everything hurt, as he buried his face into your neck, smothering the rest of his emotions along with it.

Someone once said, “The biggest lie we tell ourselves is that we should be ashamed of our feelings.”

But imagine if we weren’t? Your hand cupped over his. His breath hitched.

You knew shame like the back of your hand. A sickness and disease, taking root from within, its poisonous tendrils spreading out through every orifice until you couldn’t even scream.

Imagine if we weren’t. Your fingers laced through his. You squeezed. He squeezed back.

A secret morse code between the two of you as others started to gather around. Lying on your sides, he tugged you in closer, so that your back was flush against his chest. You stroked his arm, repeating the motion in cycles like a form of meditation.

He had you. You were his. He didn’t have to worry about that, even when you were being shared.

In return, he planted soft kisses along your spine as a ‘thank you’, causing you to shiver while he palmed your crotch. You felt his dick harden against the crevasse of your ass and you bucked your hips back into his. He let out a hiss, rubbing his erection in sync with your rocking, and you heard the sound of a lid cracking open.

At the same time, another person tweaked your nipples, licking, and sucking on them as you bit your lip and moaned. Lukewarm oil spilled onto your ass in a slow, deliberate stream, spreading like liquid silk. Even though you were ready—so ready—for this, with your hole wide and gaping from the butt plug you had worn in the day, and still leaking from previous use, he felt the need to prepare you. Circling your rim, he slipped one, then two fingers in, allowing the tight ring of muscle to clench around them as he stretched you out. When he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, you nearly sighed in relief, relaxing as he filled you up fully, slowly, and sensually, as if you were making love for the first time.

You melted like sweet, flowing honey in his arms, linked around your waist, hugging you tightly as his ragged breath grazed your cheek. Once you had settled in, it didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace. Your hands gripped his the entire time as he pumped his cock harder into you, friction firing up the bundle of nerves, causing you to cry out in wanton pleasure. 

It was only a matter of time before you caught a glimpse of another shadow joining from behind him, and felt the head of someone else’s member smear precum along your lips. You opened, submitting completely to the moment, its shaft dipping in and out of your mouth, your tongue swirling over its slit and ridge. Saliva dribbled down your chin as fingers tangled in your hair, grabbing it roughly to shove his cock in further, letting it hit the back of your throat as you choked and gagged. Tears ran down your face, ruining the black liner and glitter you’d decorated it with.

The hands that had been wrapped around yours gave them a long, hard squeeze, as if to ask, “Are you okay?” His worry and concern was your very own personal S.O.S., if you needed it. You brushed your thumb against his knuckles reassuringly, and he did the same, giving you two light squeezes in response, trusting in your decision.

At this, his hips snapped against your ass harshly, balls slapping skin as his thrusts grew more desperate, matching the intensity with which you were being fucked in the mouth, like a wordless competition—one vying for your affection. He slammed into your sensitive spot repeatedly, the sensations overwhelming like never before as your eyes rolled back—demonic and possessed—and euphoric waves rippled through your body.

He continued railing you until he couldn’t hold it in anymore. You felt his eyes shut, his mouth twist into a frown as he muffled his groans into your neck. He tensed and staggered, emptying a thick, hot load into your spent hole, just as the person in front of you pulled out, finishing himself off onto your face.

You coughed, sputtering as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. His dick was still in you, twitching as he rode out his climax, stroking your thighs, your hips, your ribs, before settling back on the curve of your ass. He kneaded it gently as you felt him pull out; his hands coming to rest around your waist. Raising your arms behind you, you circled them around the back of his head, pushing his face into your hair as both of you lay there—still and quiet—panting heavily and covered in fluids, his cum trickling out of your heat. You felt the uneven, taut patches that littered his skin, along with the rise and fall of each other’s chests—an empty space in the cavity growing more deafening with each passing second in the sparse room.

The clock continued ticking until you finally decided to turn around, facing the man who had fucked you so hard you thought you might break. All at once, he drew closer, lips on lips, kissing you like he meant it. You kissed back sloppily, running your fingers through his sweat-drenched hair as he cupped your cheek—grasping, craving, needing more. 

You didn’t know what to make of this connection he and you felt. The way his heart beat with loneliness, and yours responding in kind, whispering in a similar rhythm, “I’m here. I see you.” It was far more intimate than any experience you’d ever had in a darkroom. And you panicked.

Breaking away, you spotted a tuft of his matted blonde tresses, his sharp, brilliant blues, and your eyes darted towards the way out. Before he could speak, you got up, his hand catching your wrist, tugging, pulling—please, I want you, don’t go, please—until you snatched it back, and he let you.

You touched his face, thumb brushing across his bottom lip—swollen and weeping, a final ‘thank you’ for something special the two of you had shared. One where you lied to yourself, treating it as a mere passing moment in your life, fearing that anything more would ruin the illusion held together by anonymity. Picking your clothes up from the floor, you slipped off into the light and safety of crowds, ignoring the pang in your chest as the distance between you and him grew.

━━━━━━━━━━━

What if things had gone differently? 

What if you had let him talk? 

Say the words he wanted to say. Rip his chest open. Pour his heart out into your awaiting cup.

What if it was meant to be more?

What if, what if, all the what ifs.

You sat on your chair, legs crossed and pulled into your chest, thinking back to that encounter over and over again. A cheap desk fan blew hot, desert wind in your direction, its plastic blades rotating sluggishly, hardly helping in the current heatwave. Clumps of hair stuck to your forehead and the sides of your face as you closed your eyes, reminiscing his ghostly touch along your body, sore and aching, fighting fire with fire.

Five nights had passed, and you couldn’t get him out of your mind. It was three in the morning, you had work in a few hours, but he was all you could think about. During the day, you walked around in a vacant daze, and now, you were stoned, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell happened.

You fucked yourself with your fingers, imagining it was him fucking you. 

And then, Sunday came.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You saw him everywhere that night—through the tide of music, in the mirrored reflections, blonde locks catching the light, only to be let down. You didn’t know what he looked like, the only memory being a static cloud of darkness before your eyes, but somehow, you knew that you would be able to tell if it was him.

Like a moth to a flame, you made your way towards the darkroom, all the while hopelessly wondering if he would be there where you had found him last, waiting patiently, like a dog to its owner for their return. When you entered, a swarm of hands skimmed along your private parts—foreign and alien as you swallowed your disappointment, losing yourself in others’ company, though you had never felt more alone.

One more.

Another.

The next—

You’d recognize that touch anywhere. His calloused hands across your jaw—tentative, tracing your skin like scorched earth, his yearning fulfilled when you took his fingers into your mouth, coating them with your taste.

“It’s you…” he murmured, his velvety voice, laden with emotion, slipping into your ear, causing you to shudder.

His fingers slid out over the dip of your tongue as he replaced them with his lips, devouring yours fervently as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Knowing him was like a crime, but you gave yourself the permission to want him this way.

A jarring flash of light blinded you, followed by a burst of giggles, rudely interrupting your chance meeting. You whipped your head in its direction, shielding your eyes as you squinted at white powder vibrating on illuminated phone screens.

“Take your fucking drugs somewhere else!” someone yelled.

By the time you turned back, the light went out again, plunging you into utter darkness. 

Did you lose your power of anonymity?

Had he seen you for who you were now?

Would he judge you like the rest?

You felt his hand in yours, light brushes against your inner palm in the secret language you shared. No, this wasn’t the right place for what you wanted, and you had to respect that—both of that.

Fuck feeling ashamed of your feelings. 

You threw out your inhibitions, dragging him through the opening as he followed you into the light. You saw him clearly now, just as he saw you. Scars of all shapes and sizes across his body, matching the bumps you had felt in the dark—now laid bare and vulnerable in full public view.

You didn’t care, and he didn’t seem to either, clasping your face between his hands as he pushed you back, mouth squarely on yours, teasing it open. He hoisted your legs, hooking them around his waist as he buried his cock into you. Fucking you relentlessly against the wall, rugged concrete chafing skin as you jerked upwards, meeting his thrusts. 

It was rushed, frantic, and hungry, like you would vanish before his very eyes at any minute. A new DJ set had started, drowning out your screams as you dug your nails into his shoulders, clawing angry, red marks into his skin. Trembling, feverish lips wet on your chest, sucking and leaving bites in flesh as others watched, or masturbated while they watched—voyeurs to your private scene.

You clung to each other, his grip bruising on the back of your thighs, not wanting to let go—not this time, not now, not ever. Funny how you found it comforting—the way he held your gaze, unflinching and calm, as you reached your high, like he was seeing right through you—melting flesh from bone, prying the cavern open to find a scared little rabbit, and the rage frothing at your teeth.

And you knew that he understood that feeling too.

He came in you soon after, muscles clenching as he pinned you to the wall, ropes of his release filling you deep. His breath escaped in loud rasps, stray strands of his bangs fluttering in the breeze.

“God… fuck…” he gasped, before his eyes found yours again, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile as he laughed.

You laughed back.

He set you down on the floor—your legs wobbly, gaze shy—exchanging soft caresses, oblivious to the rest of the world around you. You leaned in, kissing him spontaneously as you felt his smile against your lips.

“So, you got a name?”

“Mm-hmm.” He kissed you once more, exhaling it like a sigh—“Leon.”

And you didn’t feel like the magic was lost in any way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Endnotes

Fyi, I created a playlist for Darkroom in case you want to check it out. All songs are from The xx and their music contributed a lot to the mood of this piece!

I also saw Timimie Märak, a poet, feminist, and Sámi queer activist, at a literary festival recently, and I really liked what they said: “The biggest lie we tell ourselves is that we should be ashamed of our feelings,” which has appeared in my fic above.

[giuseppe-yuki]

i promise

daniel ricciardo x mermaid!reader

w.c.: 4.9k

warnings: curse words, mildly graphic violence/abuse, fluff with angst

summary: ever since you were a young mermaid, your father only had one rule, and one rule only- don’t go near the surface.

picture credits from pinterest :)

ever since you were a young mermaid, your father only had one rule, and one rule only- don’t go near the surface.

again and again, from before you could barely swim, your father would remind you and your sisters of the horrors that were above the gentle waves that you called your home- giant flying objects that whistled, great iron beasts that launched boulders, nets that scooped your fish friends into the great unknown, and the worst one, humans that hunted your species for fun. you recall curling underneath your weaved seaweed blankets trembling with fear when your father told these stories, imagining how these monsters could even bear to do such horrible things. your sisters, however, only laughed at you for being a scaredy fish, and instead begged for your father to tell them about the famous sirens that dragged the evil humans to their death.

afterwards, when all your sisters were sound asleep, dreaming their silly dreams of having their names scrawled in the books of myth with the famed temptresses like pisinoe, thelxiepeia and aglaope, you hugged your father tight and promised to never, ever, go to the surface.

you kept your promise from when you were little like an oath. in the mornings, after your father went to work treating the local sea life, you and your sisters swam out from the secret opening behind the kelp forest that was the entrance to the hidden cavern that you called your home. they always told your father they were out hunting for new accessories and jewelry, but you knew better. the minute you passed the long green strands of seaweed concealing your home, your sisters would flip their glittering fins and swim up, up, up. they would linger at the surface, with just the tops of their heads to their eyes peeking out, studying, waiting, for just the right moment to push an unsuspecting sailor into the water. meanwhile, you opted to dive lower towards the sandy floor towards the shipwrecks that littered the ground. there, hidden underneath the crumbling floorboards and in the broken cupboards, hid shiny gold coins and colorful rocks that you were so fond of.

when the water darkened and glowing orbs twinkled like distant fish scales above, you would swim your way back to your home, alone.

in you and your sisters’ shared bedrooms, you would carefully place your day’s work- several rings or a pretty pearl necklace, next to your growing collection. your sisters would swim in moments later, giggling about how they almost successfully drowned yet another vile man. to their own collection, they would add yet another golden compass, hand knife, or scrap of cloth. and when your father swam in, giving each one of you a hug and asked about your day, you would excitedly tell him about the gems you found while your sisters lied through their teeth about all the little sea creatures they visited. internally, you scorned your sisters for lying to your father. you would never do such things- you were obedient and a good daughter, after all, weren’t you?

of course you were. that’s why, on your father’s birthday, instead of following your sisters to the surface to try and hunt down a sailor for a trinket, you decided to swim to the lush beds of oysters next to the shore to collect pearls for a pretty little necklace. everyone knew that these specific oysters, albeit a teensy bit closer to the surface, held biggest, shiniest pearls that the ocean world has ever seen.

you sling your kelp-weaved bag over your shoulder as you weave your way through several schools of colorful fish towards the oysters. you even wave a ‘hello’ to emmy, the giant whale shark that you had grew fond of over time. emmy uses her echolocation to send a ‘hi’ back. the swim is brisk, and you arrive at your designation in no time- a spread of shiny gray-black oysters sat on a seabed of waving green kelp. tiny bubbles flow out of their shells, drifting towards the mysterious blue surface world.

reaching your hand out, you take one, then two oysters carefully and place them into your bag. honestly, you would probably need at least ten to make a decent necklace for your father. oysters number three and four plop gently into your bag after brushing away a few pesky blue crabs that had decided to infiltrate your serious harvesting session.

you are about to reach for a fifth oyster- a ginormous one that was guaranteed to house the centerpiece of the necklace, when suddenly, a weaved web descends upon you.

almost immediately, you drop your bag. fear flashes through you- hot and sharp. you hurriedly kick your fins, propelling yourself away from the net, but all it does is for you to knock sand everywhere and scatter the once-peaceful colony of oysters throughout the shallow bed. before you know it, the net ascends up, up, up towards the only place your father had said not to go- the surface.

the first thing you notice when you are above the calming waves of the place you call your home was how cold it was. gusts of air cool your sensitive skin, making you tremble. the sky, now clearer without the frothy waves of the ocean distorting it, looked strangely pretty. as you are dragged unceremoniously through the strangely dry sand, you look through the holes of the net to find an expanse of white sandy beach, littered with purpley-pink seashells. it is framed by rocky cliffs that are lined with stringy seaweed-like plants.

you come to a stop.

footsteps sound behind you, a thump-thump sound that makes your heart race. you try to turn in the net, but the rough fibers restrict your movement by digging roughly into your flesh.

“wow! looks like i caught a fat fish!” a voice exclaims.

it sounds masculine, a deep rumble with a slight lilt of an accent. a soft rustle above you sounds as the being untangles what you assume to be the top of the net.

when you feel the strands of the net fall away from around you, you whip around, as fast as you can.

to your surprise a man stares back at you with deep whiskey-brown eyes that are wide in surprise. his curls stick out every which way a worn brown tricorn hat, and his slightly parted lips are framed by a slight stubble.

you can’t help but look down. his toned chest peeks out his dirty linen shirt, and his muscular arms are frozen, still holding the damp net. he wears a rather ragged pair of trousers that are rolled up, showing off his legs. legs… legs!

he was a human.

a shrill scream erupts from your throat, and you leap back towards the surface of the ocean.

“please!” you cry, desperately trying to claw your way through the sand that coated your wet skin. “please…don’t hurt me!”

the mysterious man immediately drops the net, hands raised in a gesture of peace, a concerned look crossing his face. he looks as shocked to see you as you are of him.

“hey! hey! it’s okay!” he shouts. “i won’t hurt you now- i promise!”

true to his word, he backs up away from you, simultaneously yanking the offending net away behind his back.

you glance at him wearily, your father’s warnings and stories bouncing around your head. he had always told you that humans were evil, greedy creatures that would stop at nothing to capture your kind.

but now, looking at the human man standing in front of you, for the first time, you started to doubt your father.

yes, he was a human, but did it really matter? he was pretty, and you liked pretty things. your horde of glimmering gems and jewels at home would vouch for you. how could a gorgeous being like him ever do any wrong?

the man in front of you hesitantly opens his mouth.

“i’m- i’m daniel,” he says, reaching a hand out for you to shake before changing his mind and rests it awkwardly to his side. “i’m sorry i called you a fat fish earlier…i didn’t know you were a-“ he gestures vaguely to your shiny tail- “mermaid.”

you brush the guilty thoughts of what your father would think away from you, and instead, scooch closer on the hot sand towards daniel.

even when the setting sun the paints the both of you a luminous orange hours later and you both lie at the edge of water, you still continue to chat idly. it’s honestly mostly daniel talking, but you don’t mind. his voice is enchanting in a way, like how you assume the sirens that your sisters always dreamed to be would sound to sailors in the water. your fingers swirl shapes in the sand as daniel continues to tell you how one of his silly shipmates named lando broke their captain’s most beloved magnifying glasses after he knocked it off a table.

“…and then, lando just leaves the mess hall as if the max’s magnifying glass wasn’t just broken in like, four pieces on the ground!” he says, moving his hands animatedly.

you giggle, fins flicking a little bit of water into the air, but you aren’t listening to his story, and instead, studying his face.

noticing your stare, daniel lets out a laugh and a toothy grin that you have come to be familiar with quickly. “what? do i have something on my face?” he asks, tilting his head in question.

”well…” you say teasingly. leaping up as best as you can, you place a kiss on his cheek before diving into the waves in front of you.

when you emerge from the foamy tides, daniel now stands, stunned, one hand lightly pressed to the place where you pressed a kiss.

you can tell his face is dusted with red, like the smooth coral near your home. there’s no doubt that yours is too.

“it’s a goodbye kiss,“ you explain. “because i have to go- it’s getting dark. it was nice talking to you, danny!”

you wiggle your fingers in a goodbye and are about to dive back into the water when daniel lets out a shout.

“wait!” he yells, hurriedly patting his pockets.

you hesitate, turning back to his figure on the shore.

from his left pocket, he draws out a beautiful patterned handkerchief.

“for you,” he states, extending his arm towards you.

when you grab the soft material from his hand, you swear you feel an electrifying buzz that flows from him into you.

god, how were you going to hide this from your father?

cursing yourself for forgetting the time, you practically dash home through the kelp forest and into the secret entrance that led to the cavern you called your home. your sisters are home already, carefully wrapping various items, like a gold compass and silver eyeglass in shimmery jellyfish-paper.

selkie, one of your older sisters, approaches you with an smile when she sees you float in.

”well? where’s your gift for father?” she asks, eyes trailing over you to see if you had brought anything special in.

quickly, you reach to your side for your kelp bag full of oysters. however, it isn’t there.

fuck.

it was probably still sitting on the oyster bed, abandoned, after daniel had mistakenly reeled you in with his net.

you scratch your head.

”well, i- er…”

selkie wrinkles her eyebrows, perplexed. “where were you all day, then, if not finding a gift for father?”

your other sisters look over, temporarily pausing from wrapping the stolen knick-knacks from the sailors.

”let me guess,” your other sister, marina, says from the messy table. “you went to go peek at the hot mermen down by the underwater cove, weren’t you? and then you lost track of time?”

if only she knew that you were looking at a gorgeous man, just not one that lived in the sea.

“no!” you screech, cheeks feeling a little warm from the thought of daniel in the sun. ”i wasn’t! i swear!”

your sisters laugh, fully convinced they had caught you in a lie. suddenly, selkie stops laughing and narrows her eyes at you. her slender arm reaches out, quick as a swordfish, and snatches daniel’s handkerchief from your hand.

“what is this, dear sister?” she says, holding it up to the algae light source at the top of the room to study it better.

panicked, you snap your hand towards the valuable cloth and try and rip it out of your sister’s grasp, but she is quicker. the cloth flicks out of her hand in a perfect arc and is caught by marina, who had stopped cutting the jellyfish paper. your other sisters stop what they are doing and crowd in as well, wanting to catch a glimpse of the fabric.

“give that to me!” you exclaim, pushing your sisters aside to take back daniel’s handkerchief. they had no right taking it away from you.

marina lets out a gasp before you are able to reach her.

“this…this is a human handkerchief!”

whipping her head towards you, she raises her eyebrow and smiles at you in amusement.

“so, you’ve finally broken your silly little promise to father huh?” she balls up the material and throws it at you. “did you finally get the guts to go up to the surface and steal something special for father?”

“yeah, and she didn’t even succeed in getting anything either- all she stole was a piece of cloth,” one of your other sister interjects.

you ignore the giggles of your sisters and sniff angrily at marina before picking up the fallen handkerchief from the ground shoving it into a chest on your shelf of shiny treasures.

that night, you give your father a small necklace made of the rubies and diamonds you found on the sunken shipwrecks. it is a far cry from the pearl necklace you had promised to make him, but he thanks you appreciatively and gives you a big hug. after dinner, he makes a big speech about how he is so thankful for such kind, obedient, and beautiful daughters, and you feel just the teensiest bit guilty for lying to him for the first time ever. however, the thought of daniel’s smile wipes it all away, and you fall asleep that night with his handkerchief tucked under your sponge coral pillow.

when day breaks, you often find yourself traveling upwards towards the forbidden surface in the same direction as your sisters. while poke their heads up near the massive wooden ships with plenty of sailors to prey on, you instead glide your way towards the bed of oysters. daniel is always there, in his scraggly linen shirt and brown tricorn hat, when you pop your head out of the bubbly tides. when the sun above him creates a halo around his head of curls and he smiles at you with twinkling brown eyes, you swear he must be an angel of some type. you both talk about every topic in the book, about daniel’s shipmates on his fishing boat, about your silly sisters and their siren dreams, and about life in general. and when the sun sets, like the first day, you press a kiss to daniel’s rough stubble, and he gifts you with a new trinket for your collection. as time goes on, your usual collection of gems and jewels are overshadowed by the many items from daniel. your sisters question you from time to time, but you never answer them. daniel was a secret- an oath- that you vowed to keep to yourself forever. your sisters could never appreciate daniel the way you did.

it’s just like any other day when you swim out of the secret entrance, past the seaweed forest with your sisters. like always, they drift towards their normal spot near the big mighty human ships and bob in the water, watching as the little sailors on the boats raise their sails and tie their ropes. taking a sharp turn, you leave them there as you head towards the oyster bed towards danny. when you pop out of the lazy tides of the water, the familiar muscular figure of daniel is standing there on the sand, like he always is. he gives you a smile and a wave, making your heart leap in your chest. you waste no time in gliding towards the shore and pulling yourself onto a low-hanging flat rock near the water.

danny practically leaps through the dunes of sand to take a seat next to you, not caring that the right sides of his linen shirt and brown trousers grow a little damp from the water on your tail. carefully, he undos the laces on his worn-out boots, before tossing it aside and sticking his feet in the cool water of the ocean.

a minute of comfortable silence passes over your figures on the rock. even without looking, you know his eyes are trained not at the endless expanse of ocean in front of you, but rather, on you.

”what?” you question him, without breaking your gaze on the beautiful surface world.

daniel doesn’t flinch from being caught staring. instead, he just smiles, eyes crinkling.

“you know, you do kind of look like a siren sitting on this rock,” he declares, not hiding the way his big brown eyes rake over your body appreciatively. you see how his gaze lingers on your glittery tail for a slight moment, probably admiring the sheer rainbow scales.

your cheeks heat up, unused to compliments from men (a human one, at that).

“well, you better be careful, danny,” you joke, using your fin to splash some water at him, “i might just lure you in with a song and drag you into the waves to drown you.”

he laughs, using a tattooed hand to shield himself from some of the bigger droplets. “well,” he admits, “i might just let you pull me in- how can anyone resist your pretty wiles?”

to that, your cheeks flush even more, and you become a little shy, looking at daniel timidly through your long lashes.

it’s weird to think about it- a year ago, an offhand mention of coming into contact with a human would have sent you into a frenzy. what if they captured you? what if they hurt you? you can’t help but feel silly at your past thoughts. as if your danny would ever do that.

”oh! i forgot,” he says quietly, reaching into his pocket. “i have something for you.” from the depths of his pant pocket, he pulls out a silver ring set with moonstone, a beautiful cloudy white gem that sparkles in the midday sun. gently, he places it in your lap. the jewel is shaped like a perfect circle, reminding you of the glittery white pearls that your sisters often wore in their hair.

“d’ya like it?” he inquires, eyes scanning your face for your reaction. “i found the gem, and asked my mate yuki to set it in this ring, especially for you!”

especially for me? this was just another reason why danny was better than all of the rather plain mermen down below the waves. when had they ever made a pretty ring- just for you?

you slip the ring onto a finger to find that it fits perfectly- not too tight and not too loose. in a burst of emotion, you reach up and cup the side of daniel’s face and pull him into a deep kiss.

when you pull apart a minute later, with flushed faces and swollen lips, daniel looks at you slyly.

“i take it that you liked it?”

you whistle a sweet tune as you do a flip in the water, leaving the oyster bed and daniel behind. you can’t help but keep glancing at the ring on your finger. it now glowed red, sparkling in the rare reddish rays of the setting sun that penetrated the water, a polar opposite of the pearly white from hours ago on the surface. when you reach the ships, you swim barely below the surface, teasingly flipping your tail into the air once in a while. he loves me, he loves me, you giddly repeat to yourself. a sudden thought of you leading your father to the surface to meet daniel flashes in your mind and it sends a shiver of scandalous delight through your body. you giggle to yourself quietly, but that’s when you hear it.

an awful scream, one that sounds awfully like- selkie.

you pop your head hesitantly above the water, alert and on guard.

like you predicted there, a distance away, was selkie. she was being hauled up into one of the towering ships by her tail. to your horror, your sister flails uselessly against the side of the boat as a grinning sailor pulls on the rope wrapped tightly around her body, hefting her up one pull at a time. your eyes meet your sister’s just as the evil sailor pulls her onto the deck of towering ship, effectively cutting off any possible chance of you communicating to her.

what the fuck?

you don’t even have a chance to react before you find yourself leaping through the water towards her. what the hell just happened? your sisters had to be around here somewhere. how could they let selkie get captured just like that?

when you reach the boat, the absence of the rest of your sisters is obvious. you only see marina bobbing half-hidden underneath the surface, face streaked with tears. even if she looked like she was in visible distress, you can’t help but reach toward her roughly, shaking her.

“what are you doing hiding under the surface??” you demand. “didn’t you see? selkie was just captured! we have to get father, and- and- everyone, and save her!”

marina pushes you away, face contorted with obvious fear and anger. “don’t you understand?” she yells, “they took father and everyone else, okay?? if i go up there, they’re gonna take me too, and they’re gonna take us and chop us up and sell us and-“

unable to continue the sentence, marina breaks into uncontrollable sobs.

you aren’t even sure how to even begin to comprehend your sister’s sentence. father…? your sisters…? how…?

before you can react, a brown net blocks the line of vision of where your sister was. it yanks upwards with surprising speed, pulling the blurry shape of marina with it.

”NO!!” you shriek, desperately trying to grasp the net before it pulls away. alas, you miss it by a centimeter, and it lifts up, up, up, out of the water. you don’t even think before leaping out of the water, catching onto the net with one hand, your last hope of rescuing your sister. she peers down through the holes of the net with teary eyes, but makes no attempt to move, as if accepting her fate.

no, no, no, you think desperately, tears blurring your vision. you ignore the burn of the rope cutting deep into your fingers as you use your free hand to slash at the net while it swings in place, too heavy for one sailor to lift. your nails breaks a few strands of the hard rope, but truthfully, you and your sister both know it’s no use. above you, a sailor with blue watercolor eyes peeks over the railing, spots you dangling there, and laughs. the ribbons of his sailor’s hat shake as he laughs, and a gold-lined brooch, with a grotesque image of mermaid in the center, shines brightly, as if taunting you. he disappears back behind the railing, and the footsteps of several other sailors slap across the deck before the net begins slowly lifting upwards again. you know you can’t keep this up for long. your strength was slowly fading from clutching to the net.

reaching up, you attempt to hack at the net holding marina one last time when she slips her hand through one of the holes and squeezes your hand.

“go,” she says, strangely calm, eyes meeting yours. “go and save yourself. it’s too late for me, okay?”

you start to refuse, words clogging your throat as your emotions overwhelm you. it’s not too late, you want to say, i can do it! i’ll break the net and then i’ll save you, and then- and then- i’ll get on the boat, somehow- and then i’ll save father, and then selkie, and then everyone else, i swear! i can do it! please!

marina snakes her hand onto your shoulder, and pushes.

against your will, your grip falters on the net and you fall down, down, down, back into the ocean.

and when you swim back towards to surface, wanting to tell marina to come back, come back, please, she has disappeared over the edge of the towering ship.

the salty tears that you cry disappear in the ocean around you as you flee like you never cried at all. the fish around you swim gleefully, as if you hadn’t just had your father and sisters ripped from you. the orangey-reddish glow of the setting sun continues to filter through the water, and the calming red glow now taunts you. the seaweed on the bottom of the ocean floor waves side to side in a calming rhythm, but all it does is remind you of the front door of your secret home, that you once shared with your sisters and father. emmy, the whale shark, blows a bubble ring at you in hello as she swims by. you don’t know why, but you punch the bubble ring, as hard as you can, shattering it into tiny bubbles, causing emmy to swerve away in fear. it’s weird, how fast your life can change. one minute you were sitting with daniel, one hand in his curls and his lips glued to yours, and the next you were- wait. daniel. he could help you! he was human, wasn’t he? he could talk to the evil sailors and convince them to release your sisters and father! they’d listen to him- he’s so nice and charismatic, he’s bound to be able to persuade them.

daniel was sitting on the beach where you had left him half an hour ago, when you approach the shore, drawing shapes in the sand. he seems surprised to see you, but immediately jumps up from the sand and waddles into the ocean. his boots and the bottoms of his pants become drenched with seawater, but he continues deeper into the water until he meets you in the middle.

smiling from ear to ear, he starts to say, “you missed me so much that you came back?” in a teasing tone, but his face immediately drops into a concerned one, once he realizes the droplets of water on your face are not from the ocean, and are in fact leaking from your eyes. he immediately opens his arms, as if inviting you in.

you swim into his arms, hands clutching to his muscled shoulders for dear life.

“hey baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, patting your back in an up and down motion comfortingly.

as memories of the traumatic kidnappings of your family flash through your mind, you begin to sob even harder. you are sure that your steady stream of tears could fill an entire ocean, at this point.

daniel doesn’t pry, like the kind-hearted person he is, and continues to run a hand gently down your back until your sobs have quieted down to occasional hiccups and you are ready to tell him what has happened.

he carries you gently to the upper shore, and sits with you, chest deep in water, while you tell him the events that occurred after you left- selkie being hoisted up onto the boat, marina getting caught in the net, the sailor with the brooch laughing at you, and marina pushing you away. when you finish, you grasp his hands, and plead with him to save your family from whatever awful fate was awaiting them on the ship, fresh tears rolling down your face.

he agrees almost immediately, and assures you, tomorrow- tomorrow, we will go, and i will save them for you, i promise, i promise.

and you believe him. the sun had set, and there was nothing you could do in the dark of night. all there was to do was to wait for tomorrow. so, when your quivering body calms, curled in deep sleep by the rocking waves of the shallow water and the comforting embrace of danny’s arms, he reaches up, and adjusts the collar of his linen shirt, making sure the gold-lined brooch, with a little mermaid engraved in the center, is still hidden. he then reaches down and gently slips the moonstone ring off of your finger and slips it into his pocket for next time. his work here was done. now all he had to do was to wait for max and lando to come haul you into the ship, and then they could go to the next location. he smiles, looking at your peaceful body entwined so willingly- so trustingly- against him, and can’t help but laugh. mermaids were so easy to trick.

a/n: i think i am just incapable of giving my fics good titles ;-; someone save me and help me give this one a better name please 🙏

[dustofthedailylife]

How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101 (2)

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Pairing: Wriothesley x (gn!) Reader

Summary: After Wriothesley managed to get you back out of prison again you wanted to go back to living your life. However, things wouldn't go so smoothly, especially since you missed the man you had grown to love during your time in the Fortress. However, maybe fate is smiling down on you for once...

Tags: Fluff, lots of kissing, you were in prison (but innocent), swearing, french kissing (we're in France after all)

A/N: People asked for a Chapter 2 - I got an idea - here we are. Hope you enjoy and thanks for the crazy support on part 1 ;_; <3

In the following days, you stayed in the Infirmary. Your concussion and the accompanying migraine flare-ups made it hard to do anything but lie in bed with closed eyes. 

Sigewinne, who was introduced to you as the head nurse, took care of you during the time you were at the Infirmary. And she religiously made sure that you didn’t leave the bed under any circumstance. She came by twice a day with some funny-tasting shakes which, despite their flavor, worked like a charm against your headache.

Wriothesley also stopped by at least once a day, no matter how occupied he had been around the Fortress otherwise. And every time he walked through the door with confident steps, and pulled a chair by your bedside, your heart was about to burst straight out of your chest. Even more so when he leaned closer to you to press a fleeting kiss to your lips as if it was second nature now.

Both you and him often stayed up late to chat the night away and tonight was no exception to that.

You were leaning against the headboard of the bed, and he was sitting on the opposite side of the bed with his back leaned against the footrest himself. He had brought a thermos flask filled with freshly brewed tea and two cups over to the Infirmary and you were both happily sipping away on it together. A small smile was displayed on his lips as he engaged in conversations with you – just like you had always done while dining together at the Cafeteria. There was just this unspoken feeling of comfort in the room whenever you could spend time with him and you wished it would last forever.

“How are you feeling? Getting any better?” Wriothesley inquired, tapping two fingers against his temple, symbolizing the location of the pain he was speaking about.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it’s getting better finally. Sigewinne’s shakes and potions definitely helped–”

“You can actually drink them?” He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling upwards.

“They’re definitely not good, I won’t lie. They taste like seaweed and sand. It’s like–”

“Like you ate an entire beach and every time you close your mouth it feels like you’re grinding dirt between your teeth.” He finished the sentence for you with another low chuckle that made your heart skip a beat.

“Exactly! How do you��?”

“Well, let’s just say I’ve been on the receiving end of these shakes a couple of times myself.” He smirked, took a sip of tea from the metal cup in his hands, and sighed. “But tea is infinitely better.”

“Oh, without a shadow of a doubt. I agree.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as you each quietly sipped on your tea. You eventually find your eyes wandering across his form - his broad chest and shoulders, to the sliver of skin showing below his neck. Even though he was trying to cover it up with black belts, the deep scars that evidently littered his skin couldn’t be hidden fully. The same applied to the scar right below his enchanting eyes.

Especially the scars around his neck looked like they came from a wound that would take a miracle to heal and recover from and you couldn’t help but wonder what could’ve caused it.

It was as if your body had started moving on its own when you leaned forward, tracing the long scar below his eyes with your index finger, down to the ones down his neck, stopping just short of his collarbone. 

Despite the deep scars and slightly bumpy texture, the skin felt soft and you could feel a slight shiver run down his spine as you ran his finger over them. He observed your facial expressions closely as you did and eventually put his bigger hand above yours to stop your motion and pressed your hand against his chest with a smile. Although there was hurt lingering behind his icy blue eyes.

“How did you get these scars?” You mustered up the courage to ask, your eyebrows pulled into a frown.

“Oh, that? I battled a gigantic undersea monster when I conquered the Fortress of Meropide. Guess who emerged victorious?” He smirked.

“Wait… really?” You ushered in surprise.

“No.” He replied dryly while averting his eyes.

You retracted your hand from his chest while apologizing. You felt like you had overstepped a boundary by asking.

“It’s –” He hesitated before pointing to his neck. “This one right here is the reason I’m here.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You reassured, not wanting to pry into his private life if he didn’t want to tell you. He took hold of your hand once more and gave it a reaffirming squeeze before sighing deeply.

“I… killed my parents. Well, adoptive parents. I’m an orphan.” Another long sigh escaped him as he averted his eyes to where your hands were intertwined. “To keep it short, they seemed like nice and law-abiding citizens at first. Like a picture-perfect family. But eventually, they treated us, me and my siblings, like trash, and sold us out one after another. I know for a fact some of my siblings did not survive because of what they did and one day… I just– snapped and ended things and set the remaining children free. They didn’t go down without a fight and that’s that. As for the others?” He brushed along his arms with the fingers of his right hand. “I’ve gotten into fistfights and the like down here a lot, nothing too special about those, really.”

He fell quiet, fiddling with your thumb, clearly nervous about how you’d possibly react to this revelation. Would you resent him? Push him away?

But you did neither of these things. You couldn’t even imagine how hard growing up must’ve been for him. And then being sent from one hell straight into another because you defended yourself and others from harm? Fontaine’s justice system was a lot – but after your case and especially after hearing his now, one thing was evident: It was everything but just.

“You’ve never been free. Not even for a single day of your life?” You questioned.

“I guess not. Although I can’t really complain. My position allows me more freedom than some people above ground have. My sentence ended a long time ago but I have no reason to go back up permanently now. Besides, I’m needed here.” He chuckled dryly before looking back up into your eyes which were now glistening with tears as you were on the verge of crying.

He took your face between his hands, wiping your eyes gently with the pad of his thumb before bringing it closer to his to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

But it wasn't long before you were interrupted by the door being flung open, swiftly followed by little tippy steps. Looking over Wriothesley's shoulder towards the doorway to the room you spotted a very displeased and borderline angry-looking Sigewinne.

"Your Grace." She almost hissed with one of her little arms stemmed on her hips and the other pointing to the wall clock that read 1 a.m. "My patient needs rest and this doesn't include staying up way past midnight and drinking caffeinated tea!"

He threw you a half-amused, half-apologetic look before sliding off the bed in one smooth motion. Spreading his arms out to both sides, he turned around with a sly smirk and looked at the head nurse.

"Ah, my apologies. It seems I must've forgotten the time again."

"Hmph… and also, while we're at it – you should rest more and drink less black tea as well." Sigewinne remarked matter-of-factly while looking at Wriothesley disapprovingly.

"I'm getting quite enough sleep, thank you very much for your concern."

"Your eyebags would beg to differ." 

"Touché."

Sigewinne crossed her arms with a triumphant smile painted on her lips as she watched Wriothesley walk out of the room with an apologetic shrug in your direction.

The head nurse promptly rushed to your bedside to fluff up your pillows and tuck you back into bed. She quickly checked if your bandages needed to be changed again before quickly wishing you goodnight, extinguishing the lights as well and closing the door behind her.

This was what a lot of evenings that week looked like. Staying up late with Wriothesley, chatting the night away, drinking tea with the occasional kiss thrown in.

As soon as the week had passed and Wriothesley had ripped your criminal record into shreds in front of your eyes you would’ve been able to return to your old life. But you still hadn't fully regained your strength yet. So upon doctor's orders, you stayed a little longer than you needed to. Not that you particularly minded - especially since you were allowed to stay in a guest room right below Wriothesley's office, which was infinitely more comfortable than the Infirmary. 

Just a couple of weeks ago you could've never imagined staying here longer than you absolutely needed to, but now you found yourself not quite wanting to leave anymore – at least you weren’t in a hurry to do so.

You spent most of your time lounging around in Wriothesley's office, scanning the bookshelves, reading some books, going through his tea collection with growing fascination, and generally just lazing the time away in his presence.

You grew incredibly closer during that week. You spent almost every free minute he had to spare together. Mostly on the sofa in his office with your head resting on his lap while he worked through some files with his feet resting on the coffee table. 

But as soon as the day came where you were officially escorted back out of the office he was nowhere to be found. You had been told to pack your things by the guards because you were about to be escorted out of the Fortress again soon. And while you prepared your things you looked for Wriothesley around the Fortress as well, since you didn’t want to leave before saying goodbye.

So, you stopped by the Infirmary, asked Sigewinne if she’d seen him already, asked several guards and Wolsey at the Cafeteria, but to no avail. It was as if the Primordial Sea itself had swallowed him.

And thus you were meeting at the pickup spot with the guards and were escorted out without seeing him again. You knew that, back then, his reassurance that you’d see him again had been a lie and the chances for that to happen were slim. Especially since he seldom ever left the Fortress. So you entered the elevator you had arrived in with a knot in your stomach that was the size of a boulder.

During the ride up you felt how the air that wafted into the elevator shaft became clearer and fresher again and you couldn’t help but wonder about your feelings that had developed for Wriothesley. Did they just emerge out of your circumstances? Was it just because he was the only one you really ever talked to down here? For the sake of your aching heart, you hoped that was the case and you’d forget this little crush once you returned to your old life again.

Surely that would be the case.

The elevator came to a halt and opened with the same mechanical hiss it did back when you arrived at the bottom of the ocean. You stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air as some droplets of rain collided with your skin.

At last. Freedom.

You didn’t even know where to go or what to do first so you simply ventured towards the City. You had exchanged the coupons you had for Mora again and buying some tea and fresh ingredients for your favorite dish sounded like a good start.

You first went back to your house, to drop off your things and change into something more presentable than your inmate clothes that smelled like oily grease. 

You took a warm shower and slipped on your favorite clothes before heading back out with a pep in your step. The bruise on your face was still slightly visible but that wouldn’t hinder you from enjoying your regained freedom. 

You happily walked into your favorite tea store that was close to your home, greeting the old lady behind the counter enthusiastically whom you always had friendly chats with before your time in prison. She briefly looked up in your direction before knitting her brows and returning to noting things down in her notebook without ushering a single word of greeting in return.

You became slightly unsettled because it seemed like the atmosphere in the room had changed when you entered. You had never seen her behave like this before, she had always been forthcoming, friendly, and extremely chatty. Nonetheless, you went up to the counter with a smile, greeting her once more.

“Hello, it’s great to see you again Madame Dubois. I came to buy a pack of my favorite tea again.” You cheered with a wide smile, feeling ecstatic about being able to do mundane things like grocery shopping again. You fondled with your wallet, taking out the Mora you owed, still remembering how much it cost – but just as you were about to put it on the counter you saw that the woman hadn’t moved an inch and was still scribbling away in her notebook.

“Hello? Madame?” You asked in confusion, trying to gain her attention.

No response.

“Madame?”

She slowly looked up at you again and was now clearly annoyed.

“Please leave my store. I don’t want to have my reputation tarnished by serving a criminal.”

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, ringing for words of protest but your mind simply blanked because of the sheer audacity of the situation. So, instead of standing up for yourself you simply walked out without another word. 

You were innocent and always had been, so why would she treat you this unfairly? And even if you had actually committed a crime, wouldn’t you have served your sentence and redeemed yourself again now?

With a tarnished mood you continued your way down the street until you came by a clothes store you used to frequent. You began browsing the clothes rack outside to get your mind off of the unpleasant encounter and even found two pieces you wanted to try on.

Throwing them over your arm you walked inside the store and right into the direction of the changing room. But just as you were about to enter it, the store owner stopped you, taking the clothes you had picked out of your hands without a word.

“Uhm, I wanted to… try these on.” You ushered in defeat, already suspecting where the conversation would venture from here. You were beginning to sense a pattern here.

“You can’t try that on.” The vendor said with determination.

“Why?”

“Pft.” She scoffed eyeing you from top to bottom, clearly not in a hurry to give you any sort of reply. “You’re not fooling me. I know that you’re going to steal something if I let you go into the changing room.”

“Madam, I’m innocent. I was never a criminal to begin with. I was falsely accused and convicted.” You protested weakly, feeling the lump in your throat grow in size.

“Mhm, yeah sure. And I’m the Hydro Archon.” She scoffed once more and pointed you towards the exit. 

With sagged shoulders and the urge to cry you found yourself outside of the store again and we're just about done with the day at this point. You half-considered just going back home again and pretending this all was just a bad dream but that would mean you'd just give up.

Was this how all former criminals were treated in Fontaine after being released? If so, it was truly no surprise that no one actually ever returned from the Fortress of Meropide if this was how they were welcomed back. Not because the Fortress wouldn't let them leave even after serving their sentence – but because they were unable to leave. Because they were brandished and irredeemable in the eyes of society.

The voice of Wriothesley from months ago now echoed in your head: “Once you get used to the Fortress you’ll find yourself unable to want to leave.”

Back then you had no idea how true that sentence would ring eventually. Not only because you missed him dearly already but also because you knew things would never return to how they had been before you had been to prison. Nothing you could say to the people on the surface would change their perception of you, because they wouldn’t believe you.

You continued to walk down the street and eventually came by your favorite cafeteria. You had often spent time here before being unrightfully incarcerated. You remembered that you had always gotten along well with the owner of it – but you had the suspicion that that would change now as well.

Unsure whether or not you should even try your luck you eventually walked towards a table and sat down. But your suspicions would remain correct – you would be politely asked to leave from here as well by the man you once got along with quite well, too.

He can’t risk the good reputation of his business and the other customers might feel unsafe sitting next to a convict.

How were you ever supposed to return to a normal life again if everyone treated you with so much disdain?

You decided to just give up for today and plopped down on the side of the pavement, next to some small rose bushes out of sight, and started crying. You needed a valve for all the anger and frustration that had accumulated over the day, and if that was it, so be it.

You wanted nothing more than to return to your old life, or heck, even go back to the Fortress of Meropide. But neither of those were possible. Society had decided you were a sinner and the Fortress was off-limits since people without a criminal record couldn’t get back in. Only former prisoners with a record could go back and decide to stay there, normal citizens, however, were not given that opportunity.

“Is everything alright?” A high-pitched voice addressed you with concern.

You looked up and looked into the face of a purple Melusine with blue hair in the famous blue Fontainian officer uniform. Her eyes were filled with worry and she was leaning over slightly so she was on eye-level with you.

“Mhm, everything’s alright.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

She didn’t look convinced and her brows furrowed even further. She looked around and hurried off before swiftly returning with a cup of tea and some pastries from the cafeteria you were unable to get even basic decency from just ten minutes ago.

With a genuine smile on her face, she handed you the items proudly.

“Here, take this. Maybe this will make your day a little better. Remember that just like after rainfall the sun will eventually shine again, there will be brighter days after crying again, too!”

Lost for words and touched by the kindness, you accepted the gift from the friendly Melusine who was already happily hopping away again. At the end of the path, she turned around once more waving and pulling the corners of her mouth up with her hands, signaling you to smile, before returning to her job.

You didn’t know whether to continue crying because you were still feeling like you were drowning at the bottom of the sea or because the only one who had shown you an ounce of humanity today had been a being who wasn’t technically human.

Just what were you supposed to do now?

A couple of weeks passed after that day and things had gone just as bad as they had on your first day. You had found a handful of shops that would still accept you as a customer, and while they weren’t your favorite of all time, they served their purpose of letting you survive.

However, you were seemingly unable to find a stable job again. Your old job no longer wanted you as an employee and all the letters of application you had sent out, had stayed unanswered. You still had enough savings to make ends meet ends for a couple more weeks but after that, you would most likely have to start selling your belongings.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough already, the realization that contrary to what you originally wanted to believe – that you’d quickly get over what you and Wriothesley had after being free again – couldn’t be further from the truth. Reintegrating into society was made impossible to you so there was also no way to distract yourself from craving to see him just one more time. Also because he would be the only one who would show you kindness, understanding and love in a time like this.

No day passed where you didn’t find yourself daydreaming about the times you had sat together and chatted the night away, how you had met up for lunch and dinner, how attractive his smile had looked, how good his aftershave had smelled – and how perfectly intoxicating his lips had felt on yours. 

Why did he not wish you goodbye when you had to leave?

And much worse was that everything reminded you of him. The coat with the red silk lining you saw while passing the clothes store. The familiar tea smell that lingered around the tea store. The whiff of perfume out of the perfumery that smelled just like him. Everything just made you miss him more and it was beginning to become excruciating. 

And on one of those days when you sat alone at home, reminiscing about your time in the Fortress of Meropide you suddenly had an idea. In your present state – without a criminal record – you were legally unable to enter the Fortress… unless-

You jumped up from your seat, your heart practically beating out of your chest over the realization that there was one way out of your predicament.

One solution.

You needed to commit a crime.

You grabbed your jacket and rushed out of your door without a moment of hesitation. You set out for the market and were practically rushing down the street now. You were dead set on your decision. The more you thought about it the more excited you got.

Once you arrived at the plaza you spotted the booth of the jeweler and headed straight in the direction of the table with big, determined steps. You already made out an expensive ruby necklace from afar that was dangling freely from the jewelry stand. That thing must be worth thirty thousand Mora minimum. Stealing that would surely land you a prison sentence for a while – and once you had that, you were free to stay in the Fortress of Meropide for as long as you wished after. You would have the necessary criminal record to make it your forever home.

Smugly smiling to yourself you arrived at the table, eyes still transfixed on the necklace that now dangled teasingly in front of your eyes. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion at this point. You purposefully reached your hand out, clutching the gem with your entire palm. The look on the face of the jeweler was changing with every millisecond that passed. His brows lifted, his eyes became wide and his mouth formed into an o-shape, ready to scream protest over the theft of one of his most precious items on display. Yet, before any of that happened – before you could yank the necklace down from the stand and make a run for it – a bigger hand enveloped your own calmly.

You could feel a chest pressed to your back and a hand on your shoulder, still expecting your plan to work. One of the guards must’ve sensed your intent and just stopped you before you could make a run for it. But the change to a calm look and the smile on the face of the jeweler told you that the situation wasn’t quite like you believed.

“This is the one you like, darling?” A deep smooth, voice inquired from behind you.

Shock shot through your system. You knew that voice like the back of your hand. You had been craving to hear it again for weeks. You had been craving for it since the day you left the prison.

What was Wriothesley doing here?

“We’ll get that one.” He declared towards the jeweler, motioning to the ruby necklace that you still clung to. He handed a small coin pouch to the man behind the booth, who was now happily smiling, weighing the Mora in his hand with a pleasant hum.

Scarred and callused fingers wrapped around your cramped fist and carefully opened your fingers, gently taking the beautiful necklace out of your grasp. 

You were still standing on the spot, unable to move as you were frozen in shock about what just happened, while the man of your dreams put the most expensive jewelry you had ever touched around your neck. Where did he even get this much money to splurge for an item like that?

No. Where did he even come from?!

“Thank you.” He nodded towards the jeweler with a handsome smile before leading you away from the booth calmly. But you could feel how tense he really was, by how hard his digits dug into your shoulder.

He dragged you into a secluded side alley behind some crates that hid you from prying eyes and promptly pushed you against the wall. An icy gaze pinned you down and the iron grip on your shoulder became impossibly tighter.

“What in God's name do you think you’re doing?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Nothing.” You feigned innocence. But your voice was barely even above a whisper and you found yourself unable to look him in the eyes.

“Nothing?” He gasped in disbelief. “You were about to steal that necklace just now.”

And to undermine his point he pressed the gem into your skin, which now sat between your collarbones.

“Are you insane?! You only just gained your freedom back!”

“Freedom?!” You bit back exasperated with tears welling up in your eyes out of anger and frustration over the downward spiral your life had been in for so long now. “This ain’t freedom. This is hell. I can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s not a reason to want to go back to prison!” He hissed, pushing your shoulder against the wall even harder.

“Don’t you dare lecture me about anything?! You didn’t even have the courtesy to say goodbye to me when I left.” You hissed.

“I didn’t want to make it harder for you. It was for the best.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You swore fiercely. “You don’t know anything. You don’t know what’s best for me because fuck, this isn’t it. Everyone shuns me, I can’t find a job, I can’t even buy groceries. I don’t have any–”

Before you were able to finish your tirade you were abruptly interrupted by his lips hungrily crashing into yours. 

Immediately the million questions you wanted to ask him and the shock about the situation were forgotten.

You inhaled sharply and shut your eyes and your hands immediately reached up to grab a fistful of his hair, lightly tugging on it while deepening the kiss. A low satisfied grunt vibrated through his chest as you did, sending a shiver down your spine in return. 

He pressed himself up against you, trapping you between himself and the wall. One of his hands found his way around your waist, greedily squeezing at your flesh below his palms. Further pulling you into him as he held you impossibly closer than you already were while devouring you like he was a man starved for air and you were his oxygen. 

His other hand found comfort at the back of your head, preventing it from crashing into the brick wall he pressed you against.

Slightly parted lips danced across your lips down your jaw to your collarbones. Only interrupted by his heavy pants and roaming hands that didn’t seem to know where to touch first.

“Fuck,” he muttered breathlessly with half-lidded eyes, “You drive me insane.” 

For someone who had been blessed with a Cryo vision, you were surprised at how his touch could set you ablaze so easily. Pure flames licked at your skin where he touched you. Hot open-mouthed kisses were placed wherever he could reach. Silken lips entangled with yours as you dangled on the edge of consciousness from being overwhelmed with raw emotion.

It was as if time had stopped for both of you. Lost in the intimate moment of your shared passion, somewhere in a back alley of Fontaine.

He was so close yet you wanted him to be closer. You wanted to hold him and never let him go. You wanted him to kiss you until your lips were sore and you no longer had any air to breathe.

If the kisses you had shared in the Fortress of Meropide had been addicting already then this right now was the most dangerous drug in existence. You were intoxicated by the taste and feel of his lips for no one had ever kissed you like this before. Nor did you want anyone but him ever kissing you in the same way. 

At this point he wasn't a want, he was a need. You needed him like you needed air to breathe and water to drink. And he felt the same about you. 

He carefully parted his lips, prodding the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip, practically begging for entry. And you allowed it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

The butterflies in your stomach did somersaults and were about to burst out of your chest when he slung both of his strong arms around your midriff to pull you even closer once again.

A string of saliva connected your lips when he separated from you to catch some air. His eyes were still clouded with emotion as they still hungrily looked at you. His face was still so dangerously close you could feel the tingling sensation of his breath on your lips. 

His arms maintained their position around your waist and he pressed his face into the crook of your neck with a deep inhale. 

“I missed you so much.” He muttered into your shoulder with a meek tone.

You felt like all the weight of the past weeks was lifted off your shoulders at once and you were finally able to breathe again – all despite being buried between the wall and a 6’3” man who was hugging the dear life out of you right now.

“So did I.” You sniffled, only now realizing you had begun to cry because you were so overwhelmed with joy.

“Please, take me with you. Don’t leave me again.” You pleaded, desperately clasping a fist into the fur of his coat. “I don’t want to stay here anymore. Not like this. Not without you.”

He sighed deeply, moving his palms to your shoulders, gently squeezing them. He looked at the floor pondering before directing his gaze back at you again.

“Are you truly sure about that?” He inquired seriously to which you just replied with a determined nod. 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” You answered and placed a quick peck on his lips once more. “I’d have committed a crime only so that I could be with you again.”

A low chuckle echoed through his chest and he placed a kiss at the crown of your head.

“Please don’t do that.”

You looked at him with a pout because how were you supposed to come with him when you weren’t allowed at the Fortress?

“I might have a different idea.” He announced smugly.

“And that is?”

“Work at the Fortress.”

“But… I don’t have the required qualifications for the job. I would never get accepted, let alone be even invited for an interview.” You complained, furrowing your brows.

“Well. Are you willing to learn?”

“I-I guess?” You hesitantly answer, looking up at him in confusion. “I’m not sure I follow.”

He took a step back, directed his gaze to the ground, and put his index finger to his chin, acting deep in thought.

“Well, then you’re hired.” He suddenly declared with a smug grin painted on his lips.

“What?” You huffed perplexed, causing him to snort out a laugh.

“My love,” He took your hands into his, lifting them to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Have you already forgotten who I am? I am the one who makes the rules down there.”

After you promptly agreed to his impromptu interview and hiring process, Wriothesley accompanied you back to your house to pack your things. He was barely able to stop himself from smiling from ear to ear. And you reciprocated that feeling. You would be getting a separate room in the Fortress that you could customize to your wishes. And the best part about it was that you technically could always return to the surface still – because, you weren’t imprisoned. You were about to start a new chapter of your life and you couldn’t be more excited.

Sure – things didn’t go like you had expected them to, but all’s well that ends well. Maybe you should stop by your old friend's house sometime to thank her for framing you for the crime you were falsely convicted of back then. After all, it netted you the Warden of the Fortress of Meropide at the end of the day.

As soon as you stood back between the high iron-clad walls that smelled like machine grease and oil you felt right at home. It was as if you had never left. But unlike the first time you arrived here, you were happy. 

You were free, you weren’t a criminal, no one would judge you here and you would be able to spend time with the man you loved. In fact, you’d even say you were happier than you probably had ever been.

Wriothesley led you to your new room, which happened to be below his office, and told you to make yourself right at home. He sat down on your bed and stayed around for a while to chat with you while you unpacked and decorated the space to your liking. Ultimately he had to excuse himself because he was called by a guard for some official business. And with a quick kiss that both of you smiled into, he was off.

You continued unpacking for only gods knew how long until your eyes eventually began to fall close on their own. When you checked the clock on the wall again you saw that it was nearly 11 p.m. already and you decided it was probably time to head to bed. 

You headed to the bathroom that was next to your room and got ready for the night, brushed your teeth, and washed your face before slipping into your favorite pajamas and settling down on your bed.

But as soon as you turned the lights off and lay down on your pillow, something hard was poking your temple. You reached below the pillow and touched something hard and round that felt incredibly cold to the touch.

What the heck?

You grabbed it and quickly pulled it out from below the pillow. The dimly lit room was immediately enveloped in a light blue light. But whatever it was that you had expected it to be it wasn’t this. The light of the orb in your hands was pulsating steadily like a heartbeat and you were quick to discern what that foreign item in your hand was. A cryo vision.

You furrowed your brows and concluded that it must be Wriothesley’s. He did sit on your bed earlier. Maybe it fell off his coat.

You shuffled out of the bed and headed back upstairs, hoping to find him in his office. 

While climbing up the stairs you could quickly make out the smell of fresh tea as well as the quiet notes of a gramophone playing classical music.

As soon as you got a view of the room you found Wriothesley sitting on his desk with closed eyes, a cup of tea held to his lips. Seeing him just enjoying himself made a smile creep up on your face as you approached him.

“Hi.” You whispered as you walked towards him on tippy-toes.

“Hi.” He set down his cup. “Did the music wake you up? I figured you must already be sleeping.”

“No, nothing like that.” You shook your head, taking the hand holding the vision out from behind your back to show it to him. “I found this under my pillow, I think you must’ve lost it earlier.” You discerned, looking at the glowing vision in your hand.

Wriothesley eyed you and then the vision curiously as he jumped up from his desk and walked up to you. 

He gently put his palm around your hand that was holding the vision, closing your fingers back around it again with a soft smile.

He lifted your chin so you looked him in the eyes before speaking again.

“It’s yours.” He declared.

“What? Stupid! I can’t keep your vision! You need it!” You began protesting but were quickly shut up when Wriothesley slipped the coat off his shoulder, revealing the blue orb that was still danging down from one shoulder.

“It’s not mine.”

Your mouth fell open and a thousand thoughts started racing in your mind. How could this be? You? A vision bearer? But you didn’t even feel anything. Wouldn’t receiving a vision be more flashy than simply finding it below your pillow?

“It seems like even the gods think you’ve finally found your place in the world.” He ushered proudly, slinging his arms around your shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head with a gentle smile.

“I don’t even know how to use it.” You muttered with uncertainty.

“I’ll show you.”

If the gods think you’ve managed to find your place then you’d simply have to trust their judgement. And if you honestly listened to your heart you would probably agree with them.

Whenever you looked at Wriothesley, you felt like you had finally found the place where you belonged. 

You were home.

Because home is where he is.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[ijustwantogethigh]

¿so, like the myth?

Percy Jackson x Daughter of Amphitrite reader

n/a:some fluff, percy being a stalker, y/n being just a girl, mentions of greek mythology, AMPHITRITE RAAAAAAHHHH

yeah! i love her, she is my mother, self indulgent? maybe, aged-up characters, mentions of sTalking but nothin' super dark, this is nothing like i'am used to writte! enjoy muack muack.

sorry for not writting in litteral month, y'know, not inspired like- never, i hope you'd like this!

Words: 1202

Reading Time: 4m 22s.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚

when she first arrived at the camp, she was..like a normal girl, nothing special! but.. the way she smiles, how she is so gentle with nature, and the thing that got his attention in first place, was the fact that she spent so much time in the lake, looking at the water but never, never touching it or going to swim at least.

 And when the camp was at the bonfire, she always was in the lake, he obviously never talked to her! but there was something more in her that make him so attracted to her, she wasn’t claimed yet, maybe she was an athena daughter, or an aphrodite child tho, maybe a demeter daughter, she was still in hermes cabin, I was thinking while zooming out in her direction, until Annabeth wake me up from my delusions.

‘’Hey, seaweed brain! Why are you looking at her? that’s creepy..’’ she says, almost laughing at him, she was reading a new book that chiron translated to her, but when percy stopped yapping about how bored he was, she caught him.

Looking at the most recent camper y/n l/n, a very sweet girl, very kind with the kids and a very energetic demigod, she was sitting by the side of the lake, on a towel, the shadow of the trees heading at the lake covering her almost completely, reading and talking to the girls and boys who pass by her side.

‘’mmh? What are you saying annie? didn’t hear you..’’ he says, automatically, he can’t stop his curiosity to show up in every moment, or in every moment he sees her, almost like magic.

‘I WAS saying , stop looking at her, se will think you are a weirdo and probably wouldn’t talk t you..even she does-’’ she was going to start augmenting that, that girl didn’t know he existed, well she probably knew who the amazing percy jackson was, but had no idea how, he was.

‘’Stop Annie, I just don’t know how to talk to her, you know? it’s like- i need to talk to her but i don’t know why i can’t talk to her, and yeah, maybe she doesn’t not know me, but either i know her!.’’ He expressed his frustration to her best friend, and he did know why he didn’t talk to her. The shame of ruining it or not making a good impression terrorizes him.

‘’don’t mortified perce, what if she likes you back mmh?’’

For the rest of the day, Annabeth's words rested in his head all day.

and, a month since that conversation has passed, just like that lake water, she was in the same spot, doing what she was doing a month before, but something was new, this time it was late,she was using a blue bikini, with a white shirt on top, and reading, he hesitated his actions for a moment, but ¿if wasn’t this the right moment, when the right moment began?

and, doubting, in every step he’d take, he walked  by her side, and it all started with a ‘’hey, are you always here?’’ like he never stalked her, in annabeth's words, and a cute friendship began..yeah friendship.

Now, both of them were sitting in a calurus day, not even the shadow of the trees could make them cool. It was late again, like 6:25 pm, everyone was on the lake, refreshing and trying to have a good time while helios wanted to burn them.

‘’we should step on the water, and..y’know.. swim i’am burning here N/n’’ he spoke, groaning, trying to catch ‘’his girl’’ attention, but she frowned, 

‘’why? the water probably is warm and we are gonna burn, sun causes cancer perce, did you bring sunscreen?’’

 she put her book down, looking at him while sitting and grabbing something from his backpack.

‘’Why in the world would I need sunscreen? I’am son of poseidon! that sound ridiculous y/n.’’

‘’Well, I have no godly mother but I need sunscreen. I don't want a sunburn.’’

 she says while putting sunscreen in her face, arms, legs and stomach. 

‘’so..are we going to swim or nah?’’

and both of them walked into the water, the sun wasn’t strong and in fact, the water was warm, there weren't a lot of campers, most of them were in his cabins, or doing his duties, no one was prepared for it.

percy was looking at her while she was swimming and heading her back at him, she summergerd and take a pair of seconds to come back to the surface,and, in above his lover’s head, appear a trident, upside down, with a seashell crown, illuminated by a slightly bluish light.

he was speechless, then she saw it, and looked up, she gasped in surprise and horror, as a deep voice talked, Chiron, repeating.

‘’welcome to the camp, Y/n L/n, daughter of Amphitrite, goddess of the sea, consort of poseidon’’

he looked at her, he was more shocked than her, but she was having s lot of emotions, she laughed, the she cried, and at the end she was angry, she was hitting the water, and murmuring between her teeth, but she started stomping out of the water, all angry.

‘’h-hey, wait f’me y/n!’’ he start walking of the water, but she didn’t run away, she sat on the towel as she looked at the water, slowly moving with the air.

‘’are you okay? how’d you feel?’’ 

‘’i feel like a dam truck ran me over’’

he smiled and sat by her side, trying to comfort her, he hugged her all wet.

‘’why you feel like that mmhh? i know, it’s hard when you first find out, but believe me, is not that bad’’ 

but she sighed, and lean over his shoulder.

‘’i don’t..know, it feels odd…maybe that’s why the ocean call me, or whatever she did..’’

‘’what are you- she call, you?’’

‘’something like that, she called me ‘’my little starfish, come with mama’’ i thought  it was someone who wanted to drown me’’

He laughed, and kissed her temple. He felt like he could do it, well her mother and his father were married..so..eh better not think of it.

but she laughed, but she came back to her sad expression.

‘’but amphitrite is a minor goddess, she doesn’t have a cabin, where the heck i'm sleeping at?’’

‘’Well, your mother and my father are married, both god and goddess from the sea, so we are like, half siblings or we’re married-?’’

she hitted his arm, laughing and blushing.

‘’let’s go to our cabin perce, i'm getting cold’’

she says as she stands up, grabbing her tote bag and the towel, heading back to the camp.

‘’but first let's get dinner, i'm hungry’’

‘’of course, miss starfish’’

‘’shut up, seaweed brain’’.

and both start walking, side by side, holding each others hand, maybe, it was just like the myth.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Camp Half Blood Halloween Lookalike Shenanigans Headcanon

My little brother and I decided it would be funny if there was a Camp Half-Blood halloween party where everyone came dressed as a different member of the camp. Our ideas include:

Grover dresses as Percy, borrowing one of his flannel shirts and putting a streak of gray in his hair.

Nico also dresses as Percy, but in the most stereotypical way possible. He keeps pulling massive amounts of blue candy out of his pockets and threatening to fight people with a ballpoint pen.

Annabeth dresses as Grover. She finds a way to get food to look like tin cans and candy wrappers, and spends the whole time eating those while stopping everyone who keeps accidentally littering.

Percy and Jason dress as each other and swear they didn't plan it in advance. Piper also dresses as Annabeth and she and Jason call each other seaweed brain and wise girl the whole time.

Mr. D complains that the whole thing is stupid and he's not participating, up until the day of the party, when he's seen walking around with an orange t-shirt and a nametag that says "PETER JOHNSON"

Connor and Travis are dressed as themselves. They keep saying things like "CLEARLY I'm dressed as my brother," and "can't you tell? We switched necklaces!" when in actuality they did not at all and came dressed as themselves (or as each other pretending to be themselves I guess?)

Will plays the greatest Nico DiAngelo imaginable, wearing all black, carrying around a Happy Meal box, and walking around complaining about how "everyone hates me even though I have no evidence to support this claim" and "oh maybe those Apollo kids are right and I should start actually taking care of myself, but alas! I shall not!"

Leo dresses as Jason. Actually, he's wearing a superman costume and a blonde wig, but it gets the point across. He keeps walking up to Percy, who is also dressed as Jason, and saying "oh great, ONE of us is gonna have to change," and also finding random places to pretend to pass out and knock himself unconscious. He's having the time of his life....

That is, until Hazel shows up from Camp Jupiter in a dirty white buttondown shirt and suspenders, grease staining her face and hair, wearing a cheap dollar tree toolbelt with plastic tools. She peppers a pun into every conversation and jokingly flirts with half the girls there, and even though Leo acts unimpressed, everyone else agrees she almost makes a better Leo than he does.

Frank comes with her. Having mastered his powers of shapeshifting, he manages to shapeshift only his lower half into a horse, thus making a pretty good centaur, and he wears a suit jacket and speaks in a cryptic manner, making for a pretty convincing Chiron. At first, Frank wasn't sure if it was such a good idea. Maybe Chiron would think it was rude, or in poor taste? He ends up very glad that Hazel and Leo convinced him to do it when he sees how much everyone appreciates his costume.

And, of course, Frank realizes he had nothing to worry about when Chiron comes in wearing a hawaiian shirt, with a diet coke in hand, as he calls every single camper by the wrong name.

[sapphicshav]

— PAMPERED NIGHTS | rindou haitani.

genre . . . fluff [ event drabble ]

synopsis . . . in which you spend the night pampering your annoying boyfriend, rindou haitani.

note . . . for @corpseslace

"rin babe, stay still".

"no it's cold and it's smells weird"

rindou haitani, a ruthless killer part of a criminal organisation, who flinches at your touch as you plaster black seaweed peel off mask all over his face which is littered with scars. "stop whining and keep still" you mutter placing your hands at both sides of his head to keep it steady. "are you done yet?" he huffs and rolls his eyes, leaning into your touch. "yes you big baby, now don't touch your face". although your instructions were clear, you know how annoying your boyfriend can be. you feel his hand press against your back, scrunching up the material of you cotton shirt and then releasing it from his palm. "what was that for" you questioned, raising an eyebrow at his actions. "i got this shit on my hands when i touched my face, so i used your shirt as a towel". he walks back to the couch with pride, a smirk sewn onto his face waiting for your response. you finally registered what he said, "i hate everything about you" you murmur grabbing the back of your shirt in annoyance.

"i love you too babe"

[loganwritesprobably]

Drowning

Tags/Warnings: Ace/GN!Reader, modern AU, surfing instructor Ace, civilian!Reader, Ace saves a kid from drowning

It had taken a lot to get all your friends together, days off and holiday days taken to align your schedules, but it was all worth it to be able to sit together on the beach in the hot sun. The beach was littered with families and groups of young people enjoying the weather and playing games. It was a nice, summery atmosphere.

People watching was a hobby you enjoyed, making guesses about the people around you that you'd never have proven true or false. Your book sat beside you, bookmarked with a seashell since you'd managed to forget your usual bookmark, and a drink in your hand. You sipped slowly as you just watched the horizon, seeing the children and adults alike playing in the waves.

You'd noticed a short while ago that there was a surfer on the beach, a relatively young man - you'd assume close to yourself in age - and he was quite handsome. Your friends had noticed you looking and made a few light hearted jokes, but all had moved on now. Or you'd thought. "Still looking?" One of them joked, gently elbowing you as they shuffled closer, tugging their towel closer to yours to sit in more comfort. "Can you blame me? Running around looking like that." You replied with a laugh, though you looked away having been caught. If something was going to happen then it would.

After spending a few hours just relaxing, a few of your friends convinced you to come take a dip in the water with them, and you quickly found yourself just floating along the water's surface while your friends play wrestled, though some had already retreated back to the safety of your towels under the umbrella.

The peace was disturbed as a woman shrieked from the beach. You looked up, startled by the sound, and spotted a young boy thrashing and struggling a ways away from you. Most people stood watching, stunned into stillness rather than rushing to his aid. Except one man. The surfer you'd been observing earlier dove from his board without hesitation, disappearing under the surface of the water with no sign for a long moment. Then, both he and the boy were gasping for air, surfacing properly, the boy on the surfer's shoulders.

Your friend appeared beside you and nudged you again, while another closed your open jaw with two fingers on your chin.

The surfer carried the boy back to the shore where his mother stood, and you watched as she profusely thanked the man. You looked around and noticed his board still drifting, so ignoring the laughter and taunts of your friends, you swam for it.

You dragged his board to the beach, waiting for the woman to disappear with her son, and pulled it to him. "Pretty heroic thing you did there." You said, smiling at him as he startled, then turned toward you. "Oh, anyone would've." He replied with a shrug, taking his board from you with ease. "I mean, you were the only one that even moved. It was pretty awesome." You were a little awkward, but you were trying and surely that was what mattered. "I guess it was." He replied with a laugh and a small smirk that made you want to kiss him. What a hell of an impulsive thought. "You surf?" You asked, gesturing to the board. Alone it was kind of a stupid question, but you were hoping he'd use it as a chance to talk about it more extensively. "Sure do, I'm an instructor too. The kid is one I've worked with before. He just got caught in some seaweed, he's usually a pretty strong swimmer. Guess that's why I acted so fast." He explained, and you nodded along. "So you're a surfer, a hero, and good with kids? Hot." It didn't hurt to be a little bold, right? "Yeah?" He asked, a cheeky smile taking over his face. You struggled not to fold at the sight of it, instead forcing yourself to stay strong. "Yeah. Could I interest you in sharing a cold drink, and maybe an ice cream at that café on the boardwalk?" "I think you could."

[pinksugarscrub]

Sun and Moon

Sea Witch! Hobie x mermaid! reader

Inspired by 🪦 anon after a discussion on @the-kr8tor 's blog. Thank you!

Part(s): Prologue/Chapter one, ???

Word count: 2,232

~

Bottles and vials clink together. It’s a sound you’ve come to love as you scribble in your notebook. Pearls coated in luminescent algae overhead so you can see your work. Held together by strings of silk or seaweed.

You sneak a glance at him. Watching as he mixes together a new concoction before quickly looking down and pretending to write when in all reality there’s an out of place squiggle on the page. You wait a few minutes before bringing your attention back to the man you love. A fishing net around his waist (a new addition) that holds together his black robe. Neck littered with random trinkets, shells, and pearls.

Sighing softly you rest your chin in your palm. The sketch of him long forgotten as you admire the real thing. This time you don’t shy away when he looks over his shoulder.

Hobie laughs softly, “caught you…” His eyes sparkling as he sets down his tools. Swimming over to your side he towers over you (quite easily I might add) as he reaches down. Gently, he rubs his thumb over your jaw. “What are you thinking about guppy? Me?”

Bubbles leave your lips as you laugh. Playfully pushing his hand away but it’s soon replaced by his own lips as he leans down. Peppering kisses to every inch of skin he can reach.

“Yes and-” You laugh louder as he changes to blowing raspberries against your neck. “-no! And if you don’t stop I won’t tell you anything!”

Hobie, of course, ignores this and wraps his tentacles around your waist. Bringing you closer until you’re effectively trapped. The only portion of you left uncovered are your fins. Flailing weakly against the water.

“I could just force it out of you my love,” he grins. The pearls in his hair shining under the dim light that managed to squeeze through a crack in the cave. You’ll never get tired of the way his eyes glow, even under the sunlight. Like gold rings of fire that you’ve seen on the mainland.

“You could,” you muse,“but are you going to?”

He stares.

You stare right back.

Then he clicks his tongue and loosens his grip but only enough to allow you to shift around to lay against him. The telltale sign being his hand placed over your naval.

You follow his motions without protest and eventually you both settle into the comfort of your bed full of kelp and sea sponge. His chin resting atop your head as he wraps his arms around your waist. Immediately tracing the outline of gold in your scales ever so gently.

“Alright, on with it. What did I do this time?”

Hobie relishes in your laugh. If he could, he would bottle up the sound and keep it tucked away for the days you’re away. He wishes he could finally convince you to stay but he wouldn’t think of ever getting in the way of your dream. For now, the daily visits would suffice.

“I was just thinking…about the day we met.”

“The day we met?” He repeats. Chuckling as he moves to bury his nose into the crook of your neck. “What about it lovie? Are you missing the days where my hair was longer?”

Your eyes glaze over the scar on your tail. The scales surrounding it are a bit discolored but iridescent nonetheless.

You reach for his hands wanting to seek the same feeling you felt all those months ago. Tending to you. Even the rings on his fingers are the same except for one on his left hand. The peridot matching the one around your neck. He glady intertwines your fingers.

“You did look quite rugged,” you tease.

His chest rumbles beneath your back. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

You inhale sharply.“Anyway-”

“No, no, we’re coming back to that.”

You shush him while petting one of his tentacles and he practically melts into jelly. Accepting defeat he moves another tentacle to caress your fin. You chuckle at the gesture. He might as well be a sea urchin.

“I was just wondering, what would have happened if you hadn’t found me.”

He pauses, taking his hand and lifting your chin so he can look into your eyes. “Why are you thinking about that?” You can practically feel him frowning. “Are you-”

“No,” you answer quickly. Smiling softly to reassure him. “I’m not. I feel safe with you.”

Hobie scans your face for any sign of a lie. Knowing how stubborn you can be when admitting to having nightmares again.

“I mean it love,” you laugh. Shaking your head as you poked his nose. “Don’t look so distressed. I’m referring to how much you’ve changed my life.”

He quirks a brow and you can’t help but laugh harder. Seems you have some convincing to do.

It’s not easy recalling some memories from the past but you can’t have light, without the darkness. Much like Hobie can’t be without his sun and you, can’t be without your moon.

Chapter one - Lost

Scavengers were the absolute bane of your existence. For weeks, weeks, you’ve been sourcing red seaweed. Rare red seaweed. Because greed and pollution seem to infect every corner of the sea now. It’s specifically ordered to be used as parchment for royal records and as the kingdom’s archivist it’s your duty to provide. You would lose your job in an instant if someone, anyone, found you unfit to continue guarding documents that are as old as the man who calls himself your superior.

You can’t lose the one chance you have to advance into a position you actually enjoy. So if it takes you another decade of stocking scrolls and collecting algae, so be it! But you can’t do that if you don’t figure out some way to get the remaining seaweed.

There isn’t much you can do except probe the regular patrons of the library for any leads. They seem to pity you with how their eyes follow you as you sift through maps that you already know like the back of your hand. You’re hoping a new path will magically appear on the page when you blink.

It’s hours before you finally stop and rest. You don’t think you’ve swam this much in months.

“A witch?” A voice whispers.

You sit up straighter on the bed of sponge you’re sitting on. Leaning over to see past the spiral staircase of stone. There’s a woman— scratch that—two women along with a small girl. The young mermaid sucking on her thumb as her eyes traced over the coral chandelier.

Witches weren’t…unheard of but it’s not like you believed in such stories. They were just tactics used to scare children into eating their clams and keeping them away from deeper water.

The stories claim witches have golden irises that can turn you into seafoam with just one glance. A voice so enchanting that they use it to lure sailors just as much as they would merfolk. The only positive thing you’ve heard over the years is their ability to heal but even that came at a price.

You sit back into your original position. Making bubble rings and watching them make their way to the surface.

The women are talking in hushed tones that you deem unnecessary with how vacant the library is. You close your eyes as you continue to listen in. Gossip is normally beneath you but you need a laugh after how long a day you had. Honestly, you’re only taking bits and pieces of information until you hear one word, apothecary. And it’s like it all clicks into place.

“An apothecary!” You laugh before promptly slapping your hand over your mouth.

How could you be so stupid? An apothecary! There were several of them strewn about. Most abandoned as the men and women who practiced lived inside the kingdom now. In the past however, they always grew their own stock to avoid having to pay merchants or hire a forager. If you can find just one, that should be enough to satisfy the king’s order. What’s even better is it’s entirely possible you’ll be able to regrow what was stolen. It’s the best solution you could have asked for.

By some miracle your ‘aha’ moment isn’t heard. Neither is the flick of your fins as you sneak past the trio. You really don’t want to try to justify your eavesdropping and you’re sure they don’t want to discuss the existence of something only known to be in folklore with a very skeptical scholar.

The water rushing by your ears blocks out the rest of their conversation. Only the statues bear witness about the abandoned apothecary the witch inhabits.

-

That night you gather a sickle, a ration pack, and a bag with plenty of room to stuff bundles of seaweed into. A map tucked into the outside pocket.

There were six apothecaries in total, all surrounding the castle at varying distances. There’s a chance the ones closest have already been raided so you decide to venture further out towards the ones in the south. You’re both excited and terrified to be venturing out on your own but maybe this will prove you are capable.

When the sun rises, you’re already out the door. Compass in hand as you swim around the castle gates.

You are in complete awe at everything you see. Tall stalks of coral the size of ships and fish so bright you have to stop and admire them. You try not to get too distracted but with the number of things you see you lose your way. Heading East, toward the dark sea.

After what feels like hours you arrive at the mouth of a cavern. So large it almost seems to come to life as the shadow cast from the sun moves low. Fish swimming in and out like it was sucking and spitting them out.

Flipping open the map you stare at pathways. Tilting your head to try to make sense of the markings. There is an obvious seal at the edge of the cave but the image is practically scratched off so you can’t identify it. Your compass, as it turns out, is left unusable as it spins in every direction. Obviously, this isn’t good news but did you really risk all of this just to return home empty handed?

You swallow thickly as you stare down into the cave. It can’t be…too far. Can it?

Circling the entrance you gnaw on your thumb. Turning away to face the already rising moon. You weren’t expecting to stay out all day but you have enough supplies to tide you over for the night. You’re not completely inexperienced.

A deep rumble echoes through the water and you pause. Eyes darting to the cave again and darkness stares right back but it dawns on you as you feel the current shift that it wasn’t coming from inside.

This was wrong. You shouldn’t be here.

The fish dart away to any available crevice along with the vibrant anemone that sink back into themselves. Another hum reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look behind you.

Shaking you count to ten then twenty before a shadow is cast overhead. The sea is silent. Nothing moves, nothing breathes except…

A leviathan.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

You choke back a sob. It reeks of death. Jaws stained with blood, fresh blood as it dissipates into the sea.

Stories filter through your mind at a mile a minute. You were told about great adventurers. Of their bravery and cunning against giants like the leviathan but you feel neither brave or prepared.

For the first time you hear your heartbeat. You weren’t even aware that, that was possible. Maybe it was a form of mercy, feeling your lifeforce before it was stripped from you.

It’s waiting. You can see it. Its eyes have never left yours. Its pupils so dark it reminds you of the sky. Above the surface of what you call home.

You make the mistake of looking away and everything happens in an instant.

You scream and it bellows as it strikes. Hot rushes of pain erupt with every flick of its head as it tries to swallow you whole. Jagged rocks digging into your skin as your hands bleed from smashing against its teeth. Your fear only doubles as it takes you deeper into the cave you were so hesitant to even look at. You can’t see, just feel and hear the monster that’s in front of you.

You wish you hadn’t tried to fight back. You wish you were home. You wish it had killed you quicker.

You’re so disoriented that the flashes of light that spark into your vision you mistake for the sun. The heat of each bang doing nothing to aid the tears in your body.

The leviathan roars and with each smash of glass it shrinks back until eventually it flees. Thick tail hitting the walls of stone and breaking just the surface.

You hear sounds above the calamity, words that you can’t make out because you think it’s finally over. You can rest now.

Gentle hands run over your body as you lose consciousness. Holding onto you like you were as precious as a pearl. Rings of gold are the last thing you see.

[mariacallous]

Imitation caviar invented in the 1930s could provide the solution to plastic pollution, claims Pierre Paslier, CEO of London-based packaging company Notpla. He discovered the cheap food alternative, invented by Unilever and made using seaweed, after quitting his job as a packaging engineer at L’Oréal.

With cofounder and co-CEO Rodrigo García González, Paslier and Notpla have extended the idea, taking a protein made from seaweed and creating packaging for soft drinks, fast food, laundry detergent, and cosmetics, among other things. They’re also branching out into cutlery and paper.

“Seaweed grows quickly and needs no fresh water, land, or fertilizer,” Paslier explains. “It captures carbon and makes the surrounding waters less acidic. Some species of seaweed can grow up to a meter a day.” Best of all, he says, packaging made from seaweed is completely biodegradable because it’s entirely nature-based.

Paslier noted an amazing coincidence—Alexander Parkes invented the first plastic in Hackney Wick, the same part of East London that, 100 years later, Notpla calls home. Since Parkes’ first invention, waste plastic—especially tiny particles known as microplastics, which take hundreds or thousands of years to break down into harmless molecules—has been wreaking havoc in ecosystems across the world.

Plastic pollution is proving especially damaging in the marine environment, where tiny beads of plastic are deadly to the vital microorganisms that make up plankton and which sequester 30 percent of our carbon emissions, “without us having to build any new fancy technologies,” Paslier says.

Notpla’s plans to replace plastic began with a drink container for marathons. This is, in effect, a very large piece of fake caviar—a small pouch that contains juice or water that athletes can pop in their mouths and swallow when they need rehydration. “We wanted to create something that would feel more like fruit; packaging that you could feel comes more from picking something from a tree than off a production line,” he says.

Paslier showed pictures of two postrace streets—one where refueling came in plastic containers and one where it came in edible Notpla. The first was littered with plastic bottles; the second completely waste-free.

The next step was takeout food containers. Even containers we think are cardboard contain plastic, he says, as grease from food would make plain cardboard too soggy. Working with delivery company Just Eat, Notpla has pioneered a replacement for the per- and polyfluorinated substances (PFAS), the so-called “forever chemical” plastics that currently line cardboard takeout containers. It has even found a way to retrofit its solution into the old PFAS plant, so there was no need to build new factories.

The company is developing soluble sachets for detergent pods, ice-cream scoops, and even paper packing for cosmetics. And there’s plenty of seaweed to experiment with, Paslier points out. “You don’t realize it’s already available massively at scale,” he says. “It’s in our toothpaste, it’s in our beer, it’s in our reduced-fat products—so there’s an existing infrastructure that we can work with without having to build any additional processes.”

[toweroftickles]

Reimagined Tickling #5

Fairy Tail/The Legend of Korra

A lot of times when I see a tickling scene in a movie or TV show, I imagine how fun it would be to see other characters in those same situations. You know, like "Oh I wanna see X character get tickled like that." So I thought I'd try writing a few drabbles where I'll take a famous tickle scene and reinterpret it with new characters in new settings.

This one was a request from my readers! Let’s see how Avatar Korra fares, living through Lucy Heartfilia’s torment from Virgo.

This story takes place during TLOK Season One.

Late-night puddle droplets splished into the air and drenched Korra’s heavy tundra-camel boots with every thunderous step. The brickwork backstreet was too crowded for her to use her bending arts safely, but she wasn’t going to let her target escape.

“Hey! Get back here!!” she shouted.

Through the window of Narook's Noodlery where she and her Fire Ferrets celebrated, Korra had spied the girl outside...a scrawny little scarecrow, couldn't have been more than 10 or 11, all in seaweed-colored rags of ill fit, with tufts of bright orange plumage shooting out from beneath her aviator goggles. She'd been struggling to remove the hubcaps from Asami’s car. A street rat kid rummaging for auto parts? Probably part of the Badgermole Triad. Well, if Officer Lin was too busy with “important city matters” to deal with them, Korra would do it herself.

The Avatar pushed and shoved her way through the crowd, lagging behind a diminutive thief who had the ability to simply slip underneath the sea of legs. For a moment, her pursuit was blocked by a busy traffic intersection...the girl was already across the street and fleeing fast...but Korra quickly dodged and flipped between the charging vehicles. As one car pulled out into the road, milliseconds before crashing into it, she vaulted legs-first over the engine hood, a blast of air propelling her along to the sidewalk on the other side, and the squeeeaaeeaaaky slide over hot metal nearly rubbed her butt-cheek raw.

"GET OUTTA THE STREET, YA MORON!" The pedestrian driver's horn rattled her eardrums.

Yow!! Ow ow ow ow ow! Korra hissed to herself, clutching her sore behind as she ran. (Well…it was more of a limping hop.) Ugh, that’s gonna smart for a while…

The chase led down a limestone alcove, hidden beneath a dumpster behind the Cabbage Corp building, down a wrought iron ladder that bored flakes of rust into Korra’s palms, and into the cyclical catacombs of the Warrens. Why did these dumb squirts have so much energy? She was nearly out of breath and about to call off the pursuit, when she found herself in the atrium of a massive cave.

The city lights above illuminated the red-brown earth floor. All across the sprawling portal were the bodies of countless wrecked vehicles, no doubt used in the illegal racing circuit. Satomobiles and Cabbage Car chassis of all colors littered the pools of light like croutons in soup, their parts creaking and groaning against each other. And at the far end of the cavern, past the musty graveyard of wheels and springs, there stood the kid, her back to Korra, perfectly still.

Was she oblivious, or planning something? Korra wasn't gonna wait to find out. Uncaring about noise or stealth, she charged.

Now I've got you!

Without a turn, without even a sideways glance, the mysterious child stomped a bare and bandaged foot into the dirt.

The ground beneath Korra's feet instantly dropped away like a trapdoor. “WHOA!!!” Korra yelped and tried to stop herself, but her momentum slid her down the ramp-like opening on her heel and carried her right into the maw of this newly-dug pit. She barely had time to steady herself either - as soon as she wobbled to a stable position, four large rectangles of stone, thick as concrete slabs, rose up vertically around her and rushed at her from all angles. On pure instinct she threw her arms out to the sides to block them, and her wrists were greeted by a crushing weight that nearly shattered them to splinters. She winced and shouted as the walls pushed against her hands, boxing her in and forcing their way closer and closer to her, but somehow, her throbbing arms held firm. Her energy was drained from the chase, but eventually, the blocks ground to a slow stop, and the dust settled.

Korra wheezed. Whew. I was almost a pancake. She felt like she was trapped inside a chimney. Unable to clearly see her surroundings, she glanced up to find the little sticky-fingers on the ledge of the trap hole, staring furiously down at her.

"Stop following me!" the kid yipped.

“You’re an earthbender?!”

"Of course I'm an earthbender! Now leave me alone!"

It was this surprise revelation that made Korra pause…this earthen box itself was no problem. One quick push outward and the walls would crumble. Her knees swiveled inward to form a Gong Kiu stance. She furrowed her brow and felt the rock surge beneath her hands, unaware of the sedimentary serpent that approached her.

It started small at first. Tiny granules of sand and crumbled earth all teemed together like a school of krill at the Badgermole recruit’s feet. Then, smoother, rounder stones joined the fun. Soon they all coalesced into the shape of a tentacle, that grew and grew in length until it was large enough to reach over the edge of the crevice and spiral down to the Avatar’s body. It nosed around as if hunting, dancing to its master’s commands, until finally, it lunged.

A sharp blade of air stabbed Korra's throat. All the blood in her face drained into the back of her neck, and she froze, save for her widened eyes, which darted to look at her abdomen. For a split second of terror, she thought she'd been speared. But no. This was worse.

The stone whip that she saw for the first time caressed her stomach back and forth like a tongue, up and down, side to side, between every taut muscle and even around the rim of her navel. It wiggled and poked and wouldn’t stop.

What the - ?!

“Tickletickletickletickletickle!!” the urchin girl’s shrill voice called out.

No. Wait. You’ve gotta be kidding me.

Korra tried to wrestle the urge down into her stomach, but she couldn’t help herself. She simply burst out laughing.

“Wha…d-d’ah! H…Haha! Haha Ha-Ha Ha!” Only for a fraction of a second, her hands slipped downward. But that was enough. Her strength gave way and those rock slabs, commanded by another stomp of the mysterious kid’s foot, pummeled even harder against her arms. They smooshed Korra tighter and tighter ‘til her elbows buckled.

“Ahhhh-ow ow ow OWWWW!!!” Hot thorns of pain cracked her ulnae.

“Heh-Heh Heh! That’s the best trick I ever learned! Not so easy to concentrate on your bending when you’re laughing like a hyena-monkey, is it, Miss Avatar?”

“Ugh! You little brat! Fight me like a real bender!” Korra barked.

But the young thief was merely bemused by this demand. “Hmmmm…” She stroked her chin and pretended to ponder for a moment, before a cruel snaggle-toothed smile grew across her freckles. “Ok!”

The girl threw out her right arm and twisted her wrist so that her fingers faced the ceiling. While those pointed digits wiggled in the air, her left hand made fast swipes like a conductor's baton, and her feet drew concentric circles on the ground. Korra had never seen bending like this. She would’ve been more curious...if her thoughts weren’t distracted by the craggy tentacle that was now wiggling underneath her left armpit.

“D-don’t!! Haha-Ha! Ha-Ha Ha-Ha!! *gasp* Huh! Quihit it! Nooo, crahap; why don’t I cover thohohose?!” This was humiliating. Why tickling?!

With every tiny stumble of her hands, the rocks pushed in closer. A few more slip-ups and she'd be crushed. Now she was starting to panic.

“Are you ticklish here? Or here? What about there? You’re gonna beg for mercy before long!”

The pebbles in the strand climbed over one another and traced serpentine patterns along Korra’s jaw, dragging their tiny rigid edges against the underside of her chin…down her neck…deep in her collarbone…drilling into the left armpit, and then the right…down her back…scrawling between each individual rib…once it even burrowed itself into the back of her knee, twisting and wriggling against a painfully vulnerable spot of skin. Every time Korra attempted to contort her body away from the rock-and-sand tendril, it leapt with lightning speed to another one of her softest pressure points, each more weak and sensitive than the last.

“Kitchie kitchie coo! Ah-Kitchakitchakitchakitchakitchakitchakitcha!” That nasal baby-talk was really starting to grate.

“PFFHA-HA HA-HA……nnnnn!! ….GkKHaha-Ha! *hic* Ha-Ha Ha-Ha Ha-Ha!! D…Dahamn it! Haha! Huh-Huh Ha-Ha Ha!! R-HA-hocks…rocks are supposed to be sharp; they’re not s’posed to tickl-hl-hl-ha!!”

Korra’s arms trembled in their sockets. Only a single cubit’s length separated the two walls that sandwiched her…all her strength was sapped out…gravel was practically sanding down her ears…

“Had enough yet?”

All of a sudden, the tickle whip backed off. Korra bent over double in a struggle to catch her breath. Pools of achy misery swam through her ab muscles. A single bead of sweat drizzled its way down the bridge of her nose as she huffed and puffed.

“Hmmm…this isn’t working,” the pint-sized pilferer pouted with folded arms.

“Uhhh…Wha…what do you mean?” the Avatar moaned and raised her head. Particulates of sand were slithering up the side of the crevice and back to their commander. “Why’d you stop?”

“Hmf. Well I wanted to punish you for chasing after me. But you’re enjoying it.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU THIS IS TORTURE!!” Korra might not have been a direct branch on Aang and Katara’s family tree, but she sure could channel her Water Tribe forebear’s explosive frog-mouthed temper. Tenzin was rubbing off on her.

Before she could protest further, the stone walls around her dissolved back into the ground as quickly as they’d sprung up. With nothing to push her palms against, Korra was suddenly thrown off-balance and, with her arms windmilling wildly, she toppled backwards like a chopped-down tree.

CRASH!!

It was a good several seconds before she managed to push herself up off the soil again. A heavy pulse thump-thump-thumped all the way from her hips to her throat. Her arms felt like jook pudding.

“Ugh…yep. Still smarts. Landed right on it,” she groused, to no one in particular. Korra didn’t have to climb out of the quarry to realize that her quarry was long gone.*

Great. Just great. She galavanted off halfway across the city, ditched her friends, bruised her ass, got lost in the Underground, nearly broke her arms, and got tickled mercilessly, just to fail at catching a poor kid who didn’t actually steal anything from them. Brilliant, Korra. She groaned and pinched her eyebrows, her mouth in a stubborn frown.

Slowly standing and dusting herself off, Korra limped up and out of the hole. In the midst of wondering how to explain this one to the team, one more terrible realization struck her.

"Aw, crap...

…I didn't pay my check."

*Why yes, I AM very proud of that sentence, thank you. (gets hit with a shoe)

********

[fourlittleocto]

I had a thought that the first time Phantom went little, they didn't really have control of their magic and actually turned little. Some of this I wrote while I was little so I'm not sure it makes any sense, but I don't thank anyone will see it anyway so.

almost 3k under the cut, mentions of food, and Phantom has some flashbacks

I guess it helps to know that big Phantom uses primarily He/Him, and little Phantom uses They/Them, and that Phantom was the runt of his litter.

Phantom was already worried. About everything, to be entirely honest, but today it was even more present. With the tour looming over his head and the ministry threatening to send him back to the pits when he messes up, it's hard for him to find a moment of real peace. His only anchor so far has been his new pack. Well, it's his first and only pack, since quintessence ghouls tended to be pretty solitary in the pits. He’s grateful to have a pack at all, and to be summoned into one that's so loving and supportive is some kind of unholy miracle.

He was on his way back from another unproductive meeting with Sister Imperator that was just an excuse to scare him into submission. It didn't really make him want to please her more though. All he wanted to do was be swallowed back up from the pits, because no matter how bad it was down there, at least his every move wasn't being watched and criticized.

He shakes out his body, like a dog trying to dry itself off, to work out the stress. On the bright side he didn't have to talk to her for another week, and he’s on his way back for some comfort cuddles from his packmates.

He pushes open the door to find Rain on the couch playing video games. Dew and Swiss are having a hushed conversation in the kitchen. He wants to bother Swiss for his attention, but he doesn't want to interrupt the obviously private conversation, so he settles for dropping onto the couch next to the water ghoul. Rain takes his eyes off the screen to smile at Phantom. He winds their tails together. Phantom traps the soft, seaweed-like tip of Rain's tail to rub between his fingers while he watches him play.

When Rain dies, he turns off the game and sets down his control. A faint purr rumbles through Phantom’s chest already. He jumps into Rain’s arms when they open, pulling him close to Rain’s chest and scratching lightly across his scalp.

Both of their heads poke over the top of the couch when Dew pushes back into the common room with a huff.

“Of course you put down your game for him,” Dew snarls under his breath, but he doesn’t put any effort into actually keeping it there, and both ghouls on the couch hear it. Phantom pins his ears to his head and tries to hide in Rain’s shirt with a whine.

“Dew,” Swiss warns, but it’s already too late. Rain’s tail is starting to puff up between his fingers. The light purr in his chest drops into a growl, and instead of comforting Phantom when he squeaks he sits up and pushes the quint ghoul to the other side of the couch, left to curl his tail around himself protectively.

“I’m not ignoring you! If you asked nicely instead of acting like a child about it you could be over here with us too.” Rain bites back. He rolls his eyes at the fire ghoul. He seems to care less about this fight than Phantom does, who’s watching like the most morbid tennis match with wide eyes. His tail taps at his lips, but he holds it in his hand. He’s not a kit anymore and doesn’t need to suck on his tail to feel better, no matter how much he actually wants to.

“I don’t want to share you with him!” Dew yells. The blood pounding in Phantom’s ears makes it hard to be sure if Dew meant to emphasize share or him, but his body is in full fight or flight mode and he doesn’t think he can stay to find out.

He moves so quickly he almost falls face first off the couch. His legs feel shaky, like they’re not really his, but he pushes through with the promise of the safety of his room. The door knob is a struggle too. He slams the door closed harder than he means to, which sends another jolt of panic through his system. He feels like he’s freezing but he won’t stop sweating, and the afternoon light pouring in makes his head pound. He buries himself under his covers and presses his hands into his ears in hopes that the screaming will stop.

It’s no longer Dew and Rain’s voices in his head, it’s his mother, the old pack leader, voices he heard only once but hasn’t been able to shake since. Tell them they’re the runt, they’ll never make it, they fuck up everything. That things like them are the reason packs like that don’t work. Their jeans scratch their skin and pull too tight and they need them off, but their hands are too shaky to undo the button.

They scream.

It’s the only thing they can think to do, to try to relive some of the pressure building in their head. Everything starts to feel better, but in a fuzzy, unclear way that they know they should be concerned about but don’t want to think about it enough to be. It’s at least a break.

They start to pull themself out of their sheets. Their pants stick to the material and slide off too easily, the button still done up but way too big enough to hold onto their hips. The shirt they were wearing falls when they push themself up too, at least staying on their shoulder, but the sleeves reach their elbows and the bottom hem reaches their knees. They stare at it questioningly. All the previous panic has been pushed aside, now they mostly just feel… small. And curious.

They rub the hem of their shirt between their fingers and roll off the bed like they usually do, but instead of landing gracefully they fall way further than they shoot. It sends another flare of panic through their body. This one at least is short lived, but it has their knees wobbling as they take uneven steps towards the mirror in the corner.

When they can finally see themself they freeze, staring into wide, wet eyes, then trailing down their tiny form. They have to be half the height they were just moments ago, and lanky in the way all 6 year olds are, not the usual never-grew-into-his-size lankiness he was used to. They know it’s wrong. No matter how much they want to be happy that their outside matches their inside, they know it’s not right. All the emotions swirl in their brain and start to bring back the bad feelings, and even though they just want their eyes to stop stinging, they start crying instead. Fat tears roll down their face and heavy sobs shake their whole body. They want to curl up in a ball but they can’t look away from that little kit in the mirror. The little kit with the same light patch around their eyes, the same white bangs and dark, unruly hair, and the same misshapen tail snaking its way into their mouth to chew on it self-soothingly.

A loud knock makes them freeze. They scream at themselves to pull their tail out of their mouth so they won’t get in trouble. The person outside calls their name and they whine, which reminds them there’s something more important to fix first, but no matter how much they try they aren’t getting big. It sends them back into their fit of tears.

They watch through blurry vision and the smudgy mirror as Swiss pushes their door open, freezing when they make eye contact. The whole room stills. So many thoughts race through Phantom’s mind they’re surprised they don’t explode with it.

“Phantom?” Swiss whispers. He takes a step towards the little quint ghoul, and that’s finally enough to break the spell. Phantom’s tail pushes back into their mouth as they crouch down into a ball, hiding themself behind their arms protectively.

“P-please don’t h-h-h-hurt me. S’ok,” they slur around their tail. Words seem to stick in their brain. They give a frustrated grunt. Their tongue feels heavy enough on its own, and even though the tail isn’t helping, they know it will only feel worse if they take it out.

“I would never hurt you sweetheart. Can you tell me what happened?” Phantom shakes their head hard, almost falling over from the motion. “Ok, it’s ok baby,” Swiss pauses for just long enough that Phantom starts to worry again. They hide their head more in their knees and let more heavy tears fall, since it seems to be helping. It at least made them feel less big and spikey. 

“Can I touch you?” Swiss asks. Phantom’s tears dry slightly as they have to think about it. They still feel wrong, but Swiss gives such good hugs that always make them feel better when they’re big. It doesn’t take much to realize they want to be held. They unwrap their small, lanky limbs, popping their tail back in their mouth and making grabby hands at the ghoul standing above them.

Swiss smiles brightly and easily scoops the small ghoul into his arms. He eases them down so their legs are wrapped around his waist, and their head is resting on his shoulder, ear pressed close enough to hear his heartbeat, which settles Phantom down considerably. Swiss bounces them up and down and hums until the last tears stop falling and they can breathe a little more even again.

“Wanna change into something more comfy?” Phantom tenses again at the idea of being put down.

“No p-please. Like it h-h-h-h-here.” They try to shove their face more into Swiss’s shoulder. Swiss sighs and chuckles at their antics.

“Ok, well are you feeling hungry? Think you can at least drink some water for me?”

If Phantom really thought about it, their tummy did feel a little empty. They nodded into Swiss. The big ghoul shifted them a little so he can walk easier, and the gentle sway and being surrounded by Swiss’ conforming scent almost lulling Phantom to sleep, even just on the short walk to the kitchen. But before they know it, they’re set down on the counter. They rub at their eyes and rock back and forth while they watch Swiss dig in the cup cabinet until he pulls out a sippy cup.

“W-why is that in-n there?”

“For little ghouls like you,” he answers easily. He fills the blue and yellow sippy cup with water from the sink and hands it to Phantom.

“There are other kits here?” They perk up, looking around like these other kits might magically show up just because they asked. Swiss makes a silly face like he’s pooping, which makes Phantom laugh. He takes a sip from his cup and wiggles at how it makes his mouth not hurt anymore.

“Sometimes. Sometimes when Dew or Rain or Cumulus have big feelings, they get small like you are.” Swiss looks back at Phantom after he grabs the cheerios from the top shelf, then turns around and grabs a bib from a drawer lower down. He tries to loop it around Phantom’s neck but the kit crosses their arms.

“I’m a big b-” they start, but saying boy doesn’t feel right even if it tries to slide off their tongue, so they try again. “A big kit.”

Swiss nods and puts both things away, instead grabbing a muffin from the snack cabinet that Phantom reaches for enthusiastically. They turn the wrapper off quickly and shove half of it in their mouth before Swiss can reach for it to stop them.

“Phantom,” he scolds. The little ghoul ignores it though, loudly chewing the too-big mouthful and starting up a wiggle again.

“Oh thank Lucifer Swiss, I need…” Dew stops himself short when he walks in the kitchen and finds Phantom’s big eyes looking back at him, muffin crumbs all over his face and sippy cup frozen half way to his mouth. “That’s… mine. What-” he starts, but Swiss steps between the two.

“I’ll wash it, Phantom just needed to borrow your sippy. He’s feeling vulnerable,” Swiss says the last part through his teeth. Phantom doesn’t really know what that word means but they know it’s probably not good.

“But that’s not normal. Are you sure he’s ok?”

The blood starts to pound in Phantom’s ears again. All they hear is that they’re not normal, too small. It’s something they’ve heard too many times to count. It makes them want to hide again.

But they’re big. They don’t need to run away, they’ll show Dew how big they really are. They throw the sippy cup on the ground. It obviously isn’t meant for ghouls as big as them, because the top pops off and sends water all over the floor. They feel a little bad, but Dew and Swiss have stopped ignoring them, so they cross their arms and say as big as they can, “I’m big, and I’m not a boy.”

“Oh,” is all Dew says.

“Are you a girl?” Swiss asks. Phantom’s big act falls quickly. They hadn’t really thought about it. If they aren’t a boy or a girl, what are they? Can you not be a boy or a girl? They know they’re not a girl, so maybe they are a boy. They shake their head and look towards Swiss for him. Luckily, he smiles warmly again.

“Ok, you can be our little bat.” It pulls another happy wiggle out of Phantom, this one reaching from the tips of their ears to the spade of their tail, which now that they’re done chewing they can slot back in their mouth.

“Our little bat is actually a toddler,” Dew says only to Swiss.

“I’m 6!” Phantom yells and kicks their feet. Dew puts out a hand like Phantom just said the same thing he did, which makes them cross their arms and stick out their tongue at not being listened to.

“Hey babybat,” Swiss crouches down so he’s the same height as the kit. “Why don’t you finish your muffin, and then we’ll go take a nap, alright? I’ll be right back.” Phantom chirps in agreement, too busy after remembering they still have a whole half of their muffin to inhale. Dew steps out into the common room. He keeps watching Phantom the whole time through the window between the two rooms, until Swiss hands him a different sippy cup, this one pink and sparkly, and goes out to join Dew.

Phantom watches them wave their arms while he chews on his muffin. He imagines they’re dinosaurs fighting each other, the flying ones that look like bats and have big claws and beaks. They roar at each other, and it’s a good thing Phantom speaks dinosaur.

“Get away from my egg,” Swiss roars. He spreads out his wings to make himself look big. Phantom, who’s obviously the egg, puffs out their chest to match.

“I’m going to eat your egg!” Dew roars back, taking a swipe at Swiss, and even though they know they’re only playing pretend, the thought of Dew hurting Swiss for real scares them. They look down. The floor is so far away, but they have to be brave. They shut their eyes tight and push off, somehow landing on their feet. They take a deep breath. They’re so brave, they can do anything, so they run out of the kitchen and wrap themself around Swiss’s leg. Dew’s attack stops right away.

“Don’t h-h-hurt h-him,” Phantom pleads. They make their meanest, scariest face at the fire ghoul. Dew tilts his head at them, looks back up at Swiss, and then crouches down to be on Phantom’s level.

“I’m sorry bug, I didn’t mean to yell.” He looks at Swiss awkwardly. It takes Phantom a minute to remember that, oh yeah, that is how this whole thing started. They don’t know what to say, so instead they chirp and lay a big, wet kiss on Dew’s cheek. He wipes it off and sticks his tongue out, but he still can’t stop himself from smiling, which Phantom takes as a win. They stick their tail back into their mouth and smile back shyly.

“Feeling tired babybat?” Swiss asks, ending the moment. Dew stands up and starts to slowly make his way towards Rain’s room, while Swiss scoops up Phantom once again and carries them to their own.

They didn’t think they were feeling tired, but being laid under they’re covers and surrounded by Swiss, it’s hard to keep their eyes open anymore.

When he wakes up he’s groggy, but it slowly comes back to him that his shirt’s not so big anymore, and Swiss isn’t covering him so completely, and he sobs into Swiss’ chest in relief.

[r0tting-rat]

DCA PROMPTOBER 2024

MerMay? Never heard of it. Idc take this even if it's October.

Day 8 - Trouble

Pairing: Mer!Sun & Mer!Moon/Human!Reader Warning: Blood and a little violence Words: 1900+ Summary: You decided to go for a dive in an unexplored area, unfortunately two pairs of watchful eyes have different plans for you.

You had made a mistake, and not a small one. You had put yourself in a lot, lot of trouble, and it was all your fault. 

The sea is truly a force to be reckoned with, isn’t it? Unpredictable, unstable, strong and unforgiving. If you lived close to you you had to learn how to trust it quickly, but also you had to set boundaries, you know? Not for the sea, it doesn’t care about boundaries, but for yourself. You always had to keep an eye on the invisible line you couldn’t cross, be careful not to come any closer to it, or the beautiful and terrible water that had been keeping you floating all this time in peaceful bliss could drag you down and make you disappear as quickly as you entered its domain. 

You didn’t hate the sea, how could you? You had loved it since the very first day, but you had made a terrible mistake; you had crossed the boundary. You brought your little boat, “Comet of the Sea”, a little further than usual, with the intention of exploring an underwater cave you had noticed from over the surface, but you had misjudged the distance and size of said cave. What you thought was an opening just a little wider than a human in the rocks was actually far bigger than you imagined, probably big enough for your boat to enter without any problem. Hesitantly you had peered in, trying to see anything in the darkness, and you had waited. It was impossible for the cave to be completely inhabited, it was so long the end of it disappeared into the darkness, in a forest of colorful algae. Despite the amount of seaweed inside the cave you didn’t spot any fish, small or big in size, wandering through them. Actually, you hadn’t seen any living creatures near the cave whatsoever. The implication dawned unto you quickly, but despite that it was already too late for you, and something grabbed your ankle, beginning to pull you down. With a scream you tried to fight it, seeking grip in the rocks around you, but that only resulted in you cutting both your palms. With your feet you began to kick at the beast, trying to get it off of you, but the fins you were wearing didn’t allow you to deal much damage, so instead of attempting to attack you focused on fleeing. The surface over you was getting more far by the second, so using both your arms and legs you began to swim, using all the strength your body had. That must have caught the animal off guard because its grip on your ankle weakened, and you took the chance to shake it off of you. Successful, you began to swim away, headed for the surface, when something clicked in your mind. Your ankle didn’t hurt, you felt no pain, and it couldn’t be because of the adrenaline because your hands stung like shit. What had grabbed you was a hand, a human hand. 

Your head snapped back, looking back down at the place where the thing had gotten a hold of you, just to see a blue creature right before you, waiting. It was far closer than you had imagined, swimming right behind you as you moved up, like it was curious to see what you were doing, and the moment your eyes landed on it you screamed at the top of your lungs inside the mask. Backing away, you tried to put as much distance as possible between you and that thing, but it simply followed you with a smooth movement of its tail, which alone was already longer than you by a lot. Wide eyed, you stared at it, looking at its round face, at the scar-covered body, at the human torso fused with a shark tail where the hips should have been. The body was separated into two sides; one was of a deep blue color and the other was as white as milk, with small dark dots like stars littering its stomach and tail. Your eyes scanned, frantically, over the big webbed and claw-tipped hands, going back to study its face in confusion, not making sense of what you were seeing. 

Could it be a person in a costume? No, the entire creature was way over the size of any human, also the face was in no way similar to one of a person. Its eyes were large, completely black with a single red dot in the middle of them, and the shape would have been almost perfectly round if it hadn’t been for the large dorsal fin that extended all the way to its lower back. The worst thing however was the mouth; a large grin full of sharp teeth, white and dangerous, which reminded you horribly of an angler fish. To add to the comparison, the monster also had an esca hanging from its forehead. 

-What the fuck,- you were whispering, terrified, -What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?!-

You had never believed in mermaids, they seemed too silly to exist and they made no absolute sense, biologically and evolutionarily speaking, yet there was no other word you could describe the thing in front of you. It was a mer, in every sense of the word, and it was far scarier and bigger than books and movies claimed them to be.

-What the fuck.- 

The mer was studying you, probably equally as curious as you were of him, and the two of you stayed there, staring at one another, for a long minute. Then, before you could do anything, it lounged at your feet and pulled one of your fins away. You yelled, of course, and tried to hit him with your naked foot, but the thing grabbed it with strength you didn’t know it possessed and held it in his large palms. Your breathing became heavy, you gave up fighting and stayed still, hoping the mer wasn’t about to make a snack out of your foot, waiting for a reaction or for a means to escape. In the meantime, the monster was looking at your body, confused. 

When he had first seen you, Moon had thought that you were some kind of fucked up mer with the way you were swimming around, clumsy and slow. Perhaps you were wounded, so when the blue mer had spotted you from afar, getting closer to his cave, he waited before attacking. He had looked at you as you peered into his cave, searching for the inhabitants, and when he was sure that you hadn’t come with harmful intentions he had gotten closer, meaning to ask you if you needed help. After all, with your body clad in a black scuba suit and the fins attached to your feet, he hadn’t noticed how human you looked. Now that he had you near though, you did look like a human, and a lot.

Staring back up at you, he chirped, trying to see if you could understand his tongue, but of course the sound only frightened you and made you try to pull away once more. 

-Moon!- The voice of his friend called him, as Sun started to emerge from the cave, worried. -Are they dangerous?-

The blue mer heard you gasping and twisting in his grasp, probably frightened by the sight of a second mer, but he refused to let you go another time. The hold he had on your foot was bruising, so much that your eyes started to water.

-No,- replied Moon, -It’s just a human.-

How unfortunate, truly. It had been a long time since the two of them had met another mer, and Moon had felt hopeful when he had seen you. Sun, on the other hand, was quite happy at the news.

-Bring it!- he smiled, showing a row of teeth as big as those of a white shark, - We haven’t eaten one in weeks!-

As much as Moon agreed, he felt hesitant to kill you. Scrutinizing your face, he noticed you were beginning to grow more anxious, darting your eyes from one creature to the other, although he wasn’t sure anymore if it was just fear or something else as well. Sun had swam closer, covering the distance in a very short time, and you gasped when you managed to see his entire body and the way he moved, gracious and smooth, like a dancer in the water. He resembled a betta fish, with his colorful fins and frills adorning his hips, tail and head, but he was just as deadly as Moon. The teeth and claws were a constant reminder of his dangerous nature, along with a hidden weapon; stings hidden in the “mane” around his head, yellow and orange as the rest of his body, holding a venom far more deadly than the one of a scorpionfish.

-So, what do we do?- Sun asked, cheerful, -Do we hunt it down or do we finish it right here and now?- 

Moon looked at you, then at his friend. 

-I’m not that hungry,- he said, -Also, I don’t feel like eating this one, it looks weird. It has something black covering its skin and heavy things attached to its back, I don’t even know if they’re removable.-

-We won’t know unless we try!- Sun replied, grabbing one of your thighs and pulling you further down. One of his claws began to cut a slash into your diving gear, as if to see how thick the layer was. He chirped in happiness when he found your succulent flesh underneath and ribbons of blood floated in the water around you, making you cry out in pain and making Sun’s eyes roll in delirious glee. 

-Oh, how good they smell!- the yellow mer rejoiced, -This is going to be the tastiest human I’ll have in my life.-

As the two mers continued on talking—or at least, you assumed they were communicating, considering the amount of noises they were making with their mouths—you kept fidgeting with the strap of your oxygen tanks, trying to pull them off. If you had managed to free yourself of them you would have been lighter, therefore you would have had a bigger chance of escaping, but the strap wasn’t cooperating. You couldn’t get it off, as much as you tried, it was unmovable. 

Suddenly the two mers looked back at you in unison, wide-eyed and silent, and you froze. Did they finally decide to kill you? Were you about to be taken apart piece by piece? You weren’t sure, not when they were looking at you in that way. 

The first of the two mers was smiling—well, he looked like he was smiling at least, and you didn't like the look of it—and the yellow one made a sound close to a throaty laugh.

-So, do you like the idea?- asked Moon to his friend, still staring at you. 

-You mean trapping them in the air pocket inside our cave?- said Sun, amused, -Yes, I think it’s quite brilliant.-

Confused, you stared at them, looking for answers in their intense gazes.

-They will make a perfect surprise for Eclipse, once he gets back,- added Sun, prodding at the wound on your thigh and making you wince. Moon laughed, thinking about the face their friend would make once he would have seen you, tied and ready to be devoured. 

-Yes, this pretty thing could be quite the surprise,- he agreed.

[tellmealittlelie]

Ocean Deep - Chapter 1

Previous: Preface

TW: Mentions of assault, blood, injury and scientific experimentation of humanoid creatures.

________________________

It was nearing dusk when the little schooner finally puttered into obscurity - no other boats in sight as far as the eye could see in all directions, and land was, at this point, a simple figment of imagination. They had been motoring forward since dawn, and now, just over thirteen hours later, the captain and his crew were absolutely sapped.

Two of the men, at their captain's orders, wheeled over their cargo to the side of the boat, leading the schooner to tip slightly to the side. The men cleared off the clutter on top of the container - a disguise if someone had met them before they had reached their destination, piles of boxes, hooks, bait and rods were cleared to the side and the spare sail that had acted as veil, was removed deftly and flung to the side.

The captain, a stout man, fumbled with his keys before unlatching the padlock and letting in a rush of air to the contents of the container. The captain tentatively peered inside, but seeing that the creature continued to lay unconscious, though, - most probably dead, or at the very least near death - he hummed to himself lazily.

It was a pretty little thing, or at least it used to, and it had certainly been quite useful to study, but now, his toy broken beyond repair, it was time to dispose of it, in the most convenient way possible. He unlatched the side of the box, letting one of the long walls drop down and allowing the blood tinged water to spill out and into the ocean, the creature following shortly after, the water pushing it out and down into the black depths. 

He only let his crew a final moment of reprise before ordering everything to be placed exactly as it had been before and charting a course back to the mainland.

The creature was, as one of the men said to another, out of sight and therefore out of mind. The body would surely fit in with the others of the same species on the ocean floor and their actions would therefore never be traced back to them - and it was easier than burning the thing, lest a scale remain and cause people to start asking questions.

~~~~

As the body slowly sank to the bottom of the ocean, it left a slow trail of blood behind it, tainting the water above it a sickly pale pink. Luckily, no creature reached for the body, the sharp scent of chemicals leading them to swim away rather than closer to inspect the oddity. 

However, not all creatures were repulsed, once the body was almost at the bottom of the ocean - where light was hard to come by - a ghostlike creature steadily approached the body with lightly veiled curiosity.

When he got a better view, he swam closer and after a moment tugged the body closer to him, noting the dull colorless sickly scales and the wounds littering it’s - his - body.

The ghost brought the man closer to his chest and after adjusting his new charge in his arms, took off back towards his den.

He wasn’t sure why, but something seemed to be calling for him to care for the man, to protect and heal his bruised and bloodied skin and brighten his scales to see their true color.

It was only a couple of minutes before he reached his den and he slipped past the barrier easily, before laying the man in a soft nest of collected human scraps; pieces of cloth and delicate seaweed latticework which made the nest homey and comfortable.

The ghost went and gathered his things from the shelves, keen eyes seeing easily in the dark. He slathered on a thick healing balm and then wrapped the wound up, quickly but effectively, with clean, thick strips of seaweed.

As he pulled away he finally noticed a plastic human cuff tightly wound around the man’s wrist. The ghost peered closer until he could read the black, uniforme writing spelling out: S141-OAP.

The ghost leaned back, he knew he was getting himself into something when he took the little merman back with him, but he had thought that he might be more use than problem to him - but now, maybe the baggage that this little thing was bringing along with him was more effort than what he would receive in compensation.

Ah, well, he wasn’t so cruel that he would toss out the bloke now, he would wait till he woke and if he was agreeable to work for him, perhaps he could stay a bit longer, if not, there was a door and he could get the hell out.

[sinning-23]

Glass Chandelier

Link to chapter 1

Link to Chapter 3

Warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive content

Chapter 2

Sanji had promised himself he would never look at a woman in this way, yet here you were making his mouth water. Your hips dip down with each step you take, the plush of your thighs and ass melting into your waist so nicely. He wonders what it’d feel like under his palms but quickly shakes the thoughts away. If Patty wasn’t just fucking with him, you’d be back there tomorrow night too.

The interaction spins in his head over and over again as he separates seaweed and rice into bowls, focused on making each rice ball the perfect shape as he molds it in his hands. It proved to become increasingly more difficult the longer he thought of you though. One interaction as you consumed every waking thought. He had planned to be here on the ship with his newly made friend and his not-so-tolerable first mate but here he was...

According to Luffy, he was dying when he had come into the restaurant before opening and needed help. Though the morning's events had been in his head, you were wedged in here somewhere, the possibility of you being in your designated booth, the dim light making you look even more beautiful. God and your voice? He could melt whenever those honeyed tones slipped past your glossed lips.

Nami stomped in, a panic set in her eyes as she explained Arlong had threatened a few of the guests and part of his stomach sank. What if you were in here. What if he had threatened you or hurt you or-

Luffy is already heading out the door and Sanji doesn't stop himself from following close behind.

___________________________________

It's bad...the bite is deep and the open wound is bound to get infected if he doesn't work quickly. Your eyes are watery and he curses himself for not being able to protect you, even if it's not his job and he really had no idea you would be here this early. Hell, with what he saw, you didn't really need protecting. You fought well, your attacks were calculated and swift. Like an angel... a very violent and precise angel.

He fights the urge to kiss your tears away, opting to lift you gently at the waist and onto the counter. Your hands are slightly clenched at your side as he grimaces at the blood-soaked towel. Your skin is so soft, littered with small faded scars here and there. Its warm under his touch and with the way the kitchen light hits it, it shimmers almost. Your eyes are low, focusing on the movement of his hands and forearms as he moves.

He knows you're staring but he opts not to point it out. He can't blame you though seeing as he's staring right back at you. The way your lip tucks slightly when he touches a particular tender part. How your skin is already forming darker bruises. It angers him but the fight is over now and there's not much else to do but recover. Your legs swing slightly and he smirks at this, how cute. He doesn't even know your name... And the question slips past his chapped lips so easily.

"Why, you wanna take me out on a date?"You tease, looking up at him from under long lashes, that sneaky little smirk playing at your lips.

Gods that sounded delightful. The vivid daydream of you on his arm while he pushed the hair from your face and kissed the back of your hand before you entered some sickly sweet date spot. How you'd swoon and shoot his flirts back with vigor. But no one actually says that to a woman they've never met. So Sanji opts to compliment your abilities as a fighter.

His index finger lifts your chin, and he's pleased to witness the color rise to your cheeks and your breath catch in your throat.

"You just took on 3 fishmen who were twice your size.I wanna know who I'm thanking for that." He speaks, looking you up and down. Little does he know, the action makes you heat.

If Zeff's exasperated sigh and grunt didn't pull him away, the frantic request to help from Usopp did and he was out of the kitchen before you could properly answer.

_______________________________________

Luffy lays helplessly against the doc, breath heavy as he tries to take in as much air as his lungs would allow. Nami was gone, and so was their map. The crew was falling apart at the seams and it didn't look as if there was a bright side, besides being alive that is. Sanji heaves, chest rising and falling as water falls from his soaked hair and down his face.

"Holy shit-" You huff, somewhat losing the limp in your walk as you approach the group of 3. "Is he okay?" You question, choking a bit when you peer down at Sanji's kneeling frame. So that's what was under that nicely tailored suit.

He only shakes his head, unsure, pushing the wet hair from his face. Sanji's gaze lingers for a while as he looks at your injury.

"Bleeding stopped. I'll live." You answer, feeling the gaze of the third party, a dark-skinned boy with a bandana, looking for answers through your short conversation with the blonde.

You grunt, using your dwindling strength to lift the curly-haired straw hat wearer up. Sanji helps as 'bandana' trails behind.

The ship wasn't too far ahead, and thank god it wasn't because despite how he looked this child was heavy as fuck. He managed to pick up some of his own weight along the way and in no time you were aboard the ship.

"You're a great fighter! You should join our crew you know." The boy who you'd learned was Luffy spoke, surprising you a bit.

Join a crew? His crew? As a pirate? Quite frankly it wouldn't be the weirdest thing you done. Spontaneous sure, but not odd. It was like the Baratie was hiring any time soon and your line of work had slowed since being at this restaurant for the last 6 months. You needed to pick up the slack and this last fight had shown just how rusty you'd gotten. However, being on a boat again...

"He asked me the same thing." the blonde hums, seeing you process the request.

A chuckle escapes you and you lean against the island in what looks like the kitchen as Luffy and 'bandana' leave to lord knows where. It wasn't much of a concern of yours when you were watching blondie throw a towel over his shoulders, just barely covering his arms and chest.

"Made your choice yet?" You quip, tucking your lip between your teeth.

He smirks, stepping closer as to fill the gap between the two of you. His hair is not as wet as before but it's still slightly damp. You can't help but look at his shirtless frame, hell any woman with a libido and type like yours would be drooling too.

He's genuinely thinking of a response, as if he hadn't quite made up his mind yet about the whole pirate thing. In your head, it would prove to be quite the adventure and perhaps you'd be able to see what the blond had prepared in terms of trying to court you. He'd already tried his hand, touching you just slightly here and there, his lingering gaze starting to burn you up.

"You made yours?"

Your fingers dance across his forearms, making note of the way they tense at your touch. Soon they're at his collarbone and down the line of his chest and torso.

His skin is so damn soft. How is that even possible. When you gaze up, his face is tinted and you can tell he's holding his breath.

"I'm still debating." You answer, head snapping n the direction of the new sound that had just interrupted.

"ZORO!"

The two of you make haste in traveling to where Luffy's voice rang out and sure enough there he was, very happily squeezing a very injured man in a relieved hug.

According to the very sloppy recap from the guy you learned was named Usopp and Luffy, this new guy 'Zoro' had decided it was a fabulous idea to challenge former warlord and infamous swordsman Dracule Mihawk.

The man laid before you was a bit taller than the blonde and a bit slimmer? You didn't focus much on his figure but the bright green hair sproutng from his head. He only spared you a small glance before closing his eyes back.

"That's gonna leave a pretty gnarly scar." You comment, arms crossed over your chest as his brow twitches.

"Better than having a chunk out my shoulder."

Touche

Luffy embraces the swordsman and his body tenses, a wince of pain spreading over his face. You cant help but smile at their bond. someone so loyal to their captain heyd fight death...and someone so loyal to their crew they'd keep them tethered...someone so supportive they have your back even if it kills them to do so.

"I had the strangest dream than Nami left." Zoro speaks, his eyes cracking open in somewhat disbelief.

"Nami?" You quip, brow raised.

"It wasnt a dream. She left with the Arlong pirates. And she took the map. Now we we have to save her." Luffy explains, a twing of hurt evident in his voice. Zoro doestn question it, only closing his eyes and taking a heavy breath..

"Im sorry, who is Nami?" You whisper to the blonde, brow raise slightly.

_________________________________

The ship is quickly stocked with barrels of food and drink for the journey ahead. You'd already packed up the little bit of life you had and successfully tossed it aboard. Usopped rolled barrels as Zoro sat, three swords against his hip. You do what you can, pushing barrels here and there but Sanji is quick to make you sit when he sees this.

"Why do we need the waiter?" Zoro chirps from beside you, seeing as that's where you opted to sit.

"Because we cant boil water." Usopp responds as you sniker.

Zoro was less than talkative, the occasional heavy sigh filling the air. If you were to stay on this ship filled with testosterone until you arrived wherever 'Nami' was, you needed to make some friends. Even if it was temporary.

"Three swords is a choice. Wheres the third one go." You question, observing them a bit better now since you were seated next to him.

"You talk a lot." he answers, eyes closed, face still.

"You don't talk enough." You shoot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

This guys was such diva.

"You not too fond of blondie I'm realizing." It was only meant as an observation but that was enough to slightly open the conversation.

"I tolerate him for my captain's sake. Besided, apparently we cant boil water. He'll be at leat a little useful for something."

There’s a bit of silence before he speaks again, his eyes practically piercing through you.

“What’re you useful for?”

What an odd question. Sure you had skills in the fighting department. The little personality you had left felt like it left your body when you chose your profession…not like it was your choice.

You’d joined the crew in hopes the blonde would too….subconsciously that is. You were still trying for to fool yourself into thinking you hadn’t fallen for him in the slightest. You were wrong.

What are you useful for.

The ship begins to move and you also decide to remove yourself rom the swordsman. Any more questions and you’d be internally debating your entire existence fooling around with this goon. Perring over the ships edge a wave of dread hits you.

When’s the last time you set foot on a boat? Your wrists and ankles twinge a bit, a bitter memory making your stomach turn. Just because you suppress a memory doesn’t mean your body will forget it.

Perhaps this was a poor choice

Taglist: @waannty @strangermeats

[momojedi]

final fight crosshair x gn reader

summary: after a yearlong cat and mouse game, you finally fix the trooper who murdered your master at the end of the wars and you're not planning on leaving until you get your revenge

⤷ tlou reference who

word count:

warnings: angst, violence, death threats, grief, out-of-control grief, injury, lazy writing ig

"I can't let you leave."

Crosshair stopped in his tracks, frozen on the spot when he heard you gasp out the words, raspy voice cracking. For a second he thought he'd taken one too many hits or that maybe his surroundings were playing tricks on his ears but as he heard your heavy breathing behind him, he knew you were dead set. It was almost impressive. He hadn't expected you to put up that much of a fight, not in your current condition anyways.

Just like him you were soaked from the heavy rain and the icy knee-deep stream you were standing in. Blood clung to your clothing and seeped from the fresh cuts. Various bruises littered your skin from the countless blows you had already taken that night. Still, you remained determined as you glared daggers into the back of his skull.

Crosshair took a shallow breath as he fished his floating helmet out of the water. "I'm not doing this." Silence. Suddenly a quick yet forceful kick in his back threw him off balance and into the cold water with a rough splash. You loomed over him with a distant expression, fixing him so much hatred, it sent chills down his back. "No," he hissed through clattering teeth, "no, I'm not going to fight you."

Your brows furrowed and with quick steps you shuffled to the girl unconsciously laying on the rock piercing the water's surface, grabbing her limp body by the scruff of her neck and igniting your lightsaber. As you held the blade by her neck, Crosshair's eyes widened. Instead of the once familiar blue glow, the light was replaced by a dangerous red glint, complimenting the crazed gold colour your eyes had taken on over the years. He didn't know much about the Force or how it truly worked but as he felt your gaze pin him so intensely, he knew that the gentle Padawan he remembered you as had long succumbed to the grief-driven maniac that now stood before him. "Yes, you will."

"She's not part of this," he slowly spoke but you remained in your position, eyes narrowing at him as you watched him move in the water. Tightening your grip around the girl, you spat at him. “You made her part of this.”

Crosshair’s hand slipped on the seaweed enveloped pebble ground underwater as he turned to look at you. Hesitantly, he inspected you. Was there any other way out? No. No, there wasn’t. “Okay,” he spoke under his breath as he stood up, “okay.”

With a scoff, you retracted the blade and let go of the girl, leaving her to slump back over the rock. For a second, you stood there, scanning him wordlessly as he gathered himself. Your features softened looking over his broken form and maybe, in a different universe, this might have been the point of change, of return.

But not in this universe.

Flashes of screaming, blasters firing and blood passed before your inner eye, images of the very trooper before you firing at your master and the salty tears burning in your eyes as you watched helplessly. You snapped back into reality—and charged.

Landing on top of him in the splashing water, you roughly pinned him down and landed blow after blow as you abused the element of surprise. Crosshair quickly caught up, spitting out the blood that started to gather in his mouth and pushed forward, effectively taking over as you rolled off in time.

As soon as he caught his breath, Crosshair stood up and stumbled over to you, throwing a punch in your direction and hitting you straight in the jaw. An iron taste began spreading on your tongue but before you could spit it out, another punch landed on your nose, leaving the red fluid freely running from it. You ducked away as another flew at you before Force shoving him off. Crosshair landed with a loud splash in the water. Using the opportunity, you fell to your knees and straddled his waist, gripping his neck and holding his head underwater.

—

“He seems like a nice man.”

You flinched as your master chimed behind you, hands clasped behind his back as he approached you.

You hadn’t realised he’d taken notice of you gazing at the clone sniper dreamily from a distance, completely abandoning your task of overseeing the cargo embarkation for the next mission ahead. With a smile, you shook your head. “He’s not — he’s not nice.”

Your feelings for Crosshair were an open secret between you and your master. Despite being seen as somewhat unethical and frowned upon by the order, your master had seemingly always encouraged your romantic interests. Upon asking him about it a few years back, he had grinned at you. “Because holding back your feelings will wind up causing more harm than learning openly from them.”

Since your initial meeting, since the day he had taken you as his padawan, your master had held you close and taught you the way of the Force not without teaching you of choosing your own paths. He felt that letting one shape their own ways would make better than to force them down another. You held his views close.

“He is to you,” your master replied, turning his head to follow your gaze, “I’ve seen how he looks at you. I think he fancies you just as much.” With an eye roll, you glance back at the sniper who, to your surprise, now met your eyes with his piercing one. Cheeks flushing, you clear your throat and raise your datapad in front of your face.

“Where’s our next mission again?” You squeak behind the object, trying to change the topic. Your master laughs warmly. “It’s on Kaller.”

—

You let go.

Barely even processing Crosshair sitting up with a tight gasp, coughing up the water that had been filling up his lungs, you felt hot, sticky tears following the blood flowing down your cheeks. Sitting back, you tried to roughly rub the blood and sweat of your face, tried to rub all those nasty feelings away. Then a sob broke through you. You looked up beneath tearful lashes as Crosshair stood up, holding his now broken arm to his chest. Blood dyed the water a deep shade of crimson.

That was you. You did that.

“Just…,” you bit through gritted teeth, “just take them.” You whispered hoarsely, voice cracking from the crying as you didn’t really know who you meant.