#so he knew a lot of sailors and fishermen

[mirensiart]

i wonder how confused the Chain would be if one of them for example was missing a leg and for the first time had phantom pain.

all of them checking who's leg is in pain and it turns out the leg is literally gone

Hmmm 🤔

I used to know an amputee, he was a friend of my dad, he lost all his fingers but his thumb in an accident

He would tells us that he felt his fingers still, but as if they were a fist, he knew he didn't have fingers but he still felt them, and whenever he tried to make the "phantom fingers" move or uncurl from the fist, he would feel pain shot up his arm

So if say, wild post totk who's missing his arm after rauru's arm is gone, suddenly and unconsciously tries to move his phantom fingers or maybe move his phantom wrist (like he logically knows they aren't there but he still feels them, the nerves are still connected) it would send everyone sharp pain up their arms lol

The others eventually know it's wild's phantom pain, but they don't have the heart to scold him for it cause like, they know he can't help it, he just keeps forgetting he doesn't have it

[anxiouslyfred]

Drowned Net

Summary/ My idea for this fic: Jellyfish cryptid Remus, he doesn't mean to be unknown or hard to spot, but he's floating and following the interesting things. Humans are loud but dull and predictable to him.

Then there's Virgil, a cryptid hunter online who posts about his searches and just got recommended the Drowned Net of a small town on the shore.

Authors Note: Okay I KNOW, I freaking know for certain, this came from something @lazaruscorpse said some time ago. I cannot for the life of me find where, or remember when. Sea mentioned something about jellyfish cryptid and tumblr won't let me find it now. bleh.

/\/\

Remus was curious by nature. They wanted to know all the interesting things, like how far down would stop predators flocking to blood in the water, or how close they could get to the warm ones fucking.

In earlier years, they’d even been interested in humans for a while, but found them all too predictable soon enough: they see Remus’s back in the water and throw things at them; They see Remus’s face and either weep or scramble trying to pull them out before throwing things again.

Humanity is just predictable, even as they grew noisier and got sharper things to throw. Even the ones Remus saw in the water were dull, either lifelessly floating and ignoring all attempted to chat or screaming and splashing about.

In short, the water held far more of interest to Remus in its life and depths than humanities occasional visits ever would.

~~

Virgil’s latest challenge started, as a lot of them did, with a comment on one of his videos: No one ever covers the Drowned Net of Redwood. Are water cryptids too much effort to investigate?”

It was definitely harder to investigate them, but Virgil knew what it was like to wish something was known about and find nothing; that was why he’d started posting videos at all. So he replied, confirming the town’s location and added it to the cryptids he could investigate when up to travelling.

Now the few times Virgil had tried looking for ocean based cryptids he’d struggled to find any boats willing to take him out. Most sailors, fishermen and boat owners had healthy suspicions and a lot of caution against tempting the ocean to take their livelihoods, if not their lives. He respected that immensely and would then stick to what could be done on land.

For the Drowned Net however, no one worried about it. They laughed over ‘that old myth’ and were inviting him along before the request to could be said.

After checking if he minded being in his video, Virgil recorded a small interview with the sailer taking him out.

“Here is my Captain for the day: Thomas, tell me a little more about today’s cryptid.” He began, having already filmed a beginning for the video and knowing this could be cut depending on how things went.

Thomas shook his head, “I’m no captain, just a sailor. What questions do you have?”

“Most sailors tell me they won’t go near looking for any sea monsters or cryptids, but you like the Drowned Net?” He asked.

“What I like is animals keeping away from our boats. It’s better for us and them when they do and the Drowned Net does just that, sometimes with annoyed noises, I hear, but never any hassle.” Thomas easily replied. “Granted this is mostly things I’ve heard from other sailors.”

“Wouldn’t a fisherman want fish to come close?” Virgil asked, eyes narrowing.

Thomas shrugged, gesturing around at his ship. “I take my nets to them and even then have to try and be careful over what I catch. The wrong fish means a lot of dead ones being thrown back. Damn restrictions.”

There was a moment where Virgil nodded, wondering if he should entertain the diversion but decided to keep the interview focused. “Why is this cryptid called the ‘Drowned Net’? Is that what you think it is? I know the pictures have been thought to look like one.”

“Not at all. If jellyfish grew that big, or had solid limbs, I’d call it one of them from the glimpses I’ve gotten. Slow as the water if seen deep below on sunny day, but fast as a speedboat to dive down or away if it thinks we can see it clearly. You seen many jellies?” He asked, turning to the controls of the ship.

Virgil shook his head, “Nope, don’t get many inland. Why?”

“They aren’t the fastest movers unless a current gets them. Either Drowned Net controls currents or it can move itself better than a plain jelly could.” Thomas paused, glancing at the sky. “But we best be heading out now for the best chance of spotting it.”

“One last question: How many times have you seen it?”

Thomas paused, still looking out the window but at the waves now. “Twice for certain. Glimpses in the corner of my eye of shadows in the water leaving are countless, and as likely to be light or other creatures as the Drowned Net. My Grandpa use to say he saw it four times, following the animals of the waves.”

~~

It was fucking time and Remus couldn’t decided what to watch. So many goos and goops in the water waiting to become life, so many animals joining bodies in weird ways and they wanted to watch it all.

They had just chosen what to focus on when on of the human’s boats paused on the surface, forms looking over into the water. Deciding not to miss the show, they simply sunk lower in the water, ignoring it.

~~

Thomas stopped the boat seemingly at random so far as Virgil knew, but he went when called to look over the edge of the boat.

“Now, you’ve done your research on the Drowned Net, haven’t you?” Thomas asked, not pointing anything out yet.

Virgil huffed, feeling like he was being doubted. “Of course. I never go out in search of something unless most encounters reported are harmless.”

“That wasn’t why I asked. I’ve stopped us here because it’s a breeding spot for a few types of fish and your trip was timed perfectly for that.” He explained a little more, waiting for him to understand.

“So if we have a chance of finding the Drowned Net, then it’s more likely to be here.” He nodded, angling his camera down at the waves. “But it’s dark, how are we-”

As he spoke a paler area of the water shrank, as if something had descended drastically. “The pale shape was the Drowned Net?” He asked, a little stunned it had been so easy to see.

“I think so, but we’ll never get closer than that. It doesn’t like ships.” Thomas said, peering down as well. “Unless you’re a trained diver and haven’t mentioned that.”

“I’m not becoming a drowned man, all for a video on the Drowned Net.” Virgil replied, deadpan. It was the first time he’d actually seen the cryptid he was looking for, and just a vague shape was thrilling; definitely worth the travel.

[cavefilllingcorporation]

Exploring the Totem Lands.

As Jannet and Crok were heading out and exploring the local area, they found a bunch of workers on the side of what could only be described as giant shops, put on tracks or wheels. The gang could see that the majority of these workers were wearing beekeeping gear, as they were extracting honey and honeycomb from all over one of the giant vehicles. Collecting it from bee hives covering the crawler, or from the jars inside the shops’ storehouse itself, or even from the giant water tower-like structure that was seemingly overflowing with honey, the workers clearly had their hands full.

Jannet was confused, why were there workers working on something else? Shouldn’t they be working on something more productive, like finishing the Anti-Project plan. She expressed her frustration to Crok, and as he was hearing her complaints, with nothing to really give a voice on the matter, someone nearby then answered it for her.

“I don’t exactly like it either, but it’s their orders. They have to fill up the warehouses before each major section of the plan is finished. That’s what happens when your orders are from on high.”

Jannet then turned around to find Johan walking towards them.

“Johan! What are you doing here?”

“I thought we agreed to meet together today. I was just waiting on you two!”

Right, she forgot about that. The trio had agreed to meet together, but Jannet and Crok had gotten sidetracked with the magical movie set.

Crok then stepped in with some more information that he knew.

“I have heard that the plans were to make sure the warehouses were full before each major operation. The next time this scavenging will happen is after we finish with the resources from the Solar Isles, and then each time after the catalogs for the Inferno Project… whatever they mean by that.”

“And why are they doing that?”

“I’m… not quite sure. I’m sure there is a purpose for this though.”

The trio then stood, silently trying to work out the logic for themselves, before Johan gave up and decided to shift the conversation.

“So, how do you like the area? This looks like a really neat place. Lots of kingdoms around these parts, all connected around a central shopping center.”

“Yes.” Crok responded. “It’s not normally how these unique civilizations form from this people group from what I understand. Still, it is a unique area. Mostly the places around this land are spread apart.”

“Indeed. Even some other areas are around here. I was just visiting the Upsidedown society’s headquarters. Very unique club I should say.” Johan responded.

“Was their building upsidedown?” Asked Crok.

“No, but the entrance was most certainly unique. I was almost confused on how to enter.”

Jannet then chimed in, wanting to circle back to a previous conversation. “So, if most of the civilizations are spread apart, what brought them so many of them close together? I mean, we have the mountain cilvilizations, the vechicles all around us, these clubs, the popup shops nearby, and of course the sweets factory.”

That same factory was the place where the Corporation had made its headquarters in the half-built factory, as it was spacious and empty enough to put lodging and equipment there.

Crok then answered Jannet’s question:

“I can answer that, but perhaps it is better if I show you.”

The pair then walked over to a pit. This was not just any pit though, as two features made it unique. The first and immediately obvious one was the floating totem pole that hovered above it. It seemed to depict fishermen and sailors, and while not the tallest thing in the world, was very impressive for what it was. The second, and something that Johan didn’t realize until he got uncomfortably close, was the depth of the pit. Upon getting a small view of the distance, Jannet realized that the pit seemed bottomless.

At that moment, Johan, getting dizzy from looking into the pit, started to loose his footing and almost fell into the pit. Jannet on instinct grabbed the back of Johan’s shirt and yanked him towards the ground. She then quickly apologized, explaining that this was part of her normal protocol from the Shattered Isles, to protect people from the void. Johan wasn’t mad though, and while slightly brused, was thankful for the save.

Jannet then used more of her Shattered Isles training as she gripped the side of the pit with one hand, a patch of grass and soil with the other, and used her back to lean into pit, getting a closer view. She had an early feeling when looking into the pit, as if she was looking into the void, and that feeling wasn’t just her uneasiness. She was trained to see anything in the void, even if it was hundreds of meters below her, but she couldn’t really see the end of this pit. Maybe it was the darkness, but maybe it was bottomless. Who knows?

“So, is this thing supposed to be bottomless.” Jannet asked.

“Yes, indeed. It is unknown if the locals found this cavity in the earth, or if they made it themselves. What is known for sure is the creation of the totem, which floated on its own, drawing many to its religion. Soon, many civilizations sprung up around the pole, all united in their belief in the supernatural power of the pole, which later blossomed into a trade alliance.”

Crok continued. “Of course, there were challenges to this faith, even as the disaster loomed,” as he glanced at a nearby moon shrine, “but despite it, they had their faith in it, and in the end, they believed that the hole would save them.”

Jannet looked horrified, while Johan was saddened, but seemingly aware of the understood the implications of a firm false faith.

“That’s horrible!” Jannet said.

“Well, to be fair, we do not know if they survived or not. With the exception of the vegan massacre, perhaps the hole did save them. We will never know… All that we do have for certain, is the treasures that they have left behind all around us.”

Treasures… that would end up in the Corporation’s hands.

[midnightmah07]

Template can be found here.

Background & personality:

Jeanne Hook is a cunning girl who was raised in a tough environment. Her mother ran away after her younger sister, Millie, was born, and her father only saw use in Jeanne because of her cleverness and physical capabilities. She, as everyone in her biological family, is a pirate, and because she is the eldest her father started training her and teaching her the ways of pirating ever since a young age, seeing her for what she could bring to his crew and not for who she was. He is a cold man who does not care about his children unless it is for the betterment of his crew, and often neglects Millie, forcing Jeanne to take on the role of a parent by a young age.

Jeanne lives mostly on her father's pirate ship, but she was born and has a house in Briar Valley, her hometown. There, she met a young half fae – Piper (a new name I chose for Pierre) – that was always eager to play with her, and who often irritated Jeanne because of his overly childish manner, as well as his selfishness and arrogance. One day, Piper went a little too far on his teasing of her and Millie, and accidentally made Millie fall into a lake with crocodiles; Jeanne was forced to jump and save her little sister, making her lose her left hand in the process. – all of this, added to the fact that Piper has everything that Jeanne has ever wanted to have (a loving family, a normal childhood, and the approval of Jeanne's father) make her have an extreme hatred towards him, often calling him a 'brat' and insulting him to his face, which never seems to make Piper irritated or discouraged to speak to her.

At NRC, Jeanne is finally free from the burden of being 'daddy's perfect girl' and 'the responsible older sister', and often acts more childishly and teasingly with her dorm and schoolmates, making her completely different from the calm and collected girl from back home.

She's able to pick up on things really fast, making her a fast learner, and a great athlete for the Spelldrive team.

Fun facts: Jeanne wears a lot of masculine clothes and is very tomboyish, because of this, and because of her more masculine features, she is often perceived as a male, and gets annoyed when people refer to her as one; she loves shiny and expensive things, and is always wearing jewelry everywhere; her pirate crew tell others that they're fishermen and/or sailors in order to not draw suspicion to them, and Jeanne herself is never open about what she or her father do... However she is super fond of pirates and is not ashamed to say so

Basic info:

Height: 178cm

Age: 17 years old

Grade: sophomore (2nd grade)

Nicknames: codfishie/codfish (by Floyd and Piper – Floyd switches between calling her by her nickname and her name), mademoiselle pirate (by Rook), buttercup (by Perse)

Birthday: June 22

Dominant hand: right – she used to be left handed but had to learn how to use her right hand once she lost her left one

Homeland: Briar Valley

Favorite food: salmon

Best subject: flight

Hobbies: swordsmanship

Club: Spelldrive club

Unique Magic: Neverland - Jeanne can stop time for up to 10 seconds, anything more than that and she immediately passes out or is injured in some way

Character relationships:

Kalim Al-Asim: her and Kalim met at the cafeteria: he had gotten into trouble with a Savanaclaw student that was particularly angry that day, and Jeanne, recognizing him as an Asim, helped in order to gain something from him. Kalim fell in love with her at first sight. Ever since that day Jeanne has tried to manipulate Kalim into being her friend so she could easily steal from him, but as she spent time with him she began to fall in love, and deeply regrets ever trying to harm him.

Jamil Viper: Jeanne likes to push Jamil's buttons, it's funny and cute to see how easily annoyed he gets by her presence. He knew she was suspicious from the beginning, warning Kalim to be careful around him, but all his warnings were in vain, and now she's just a pain in his ass.

Piper: Jeanne is to Piper what Captain Hook is to Peter Pan, a rival. He's always thought Jeanne as someone interesting, going as far as to visit Jeanne everytime her family would stop by Briar Valley to play with her and invent new games; He was always complimented by her father while she was always put down for not being nearly as talented, that plus the fact that he could act as immature as he wanted and have as much fun as he wanted while she was forced to be an adult at the age of 12 made her jealous and angry. Piper is also the reason she lost her left hand.

Azul Ashengrotto: Azul and the tweels actually met Jeanne before NRC, having crossed with her crew as they sailed away. However, they only got closer once they enrolled at the school. Jeanne respects Azul, but likes to irritate him, telling him she will never accept him as her captain (aka housewarden)... Still, she does everything Azul tells her to do as long as it benefits her or entertains her, and Azul can be super persuasive and entertaining so she most of the time ends up helping him and the tweels.

Floyd Leech: Floyd is unpredictable which is something that amuses Jeanne a lot, not only that but Floyd's always picking a fight with her — I mean like, play fighting — and she's happy to go along bc she thinks he's funny and amusing. The only thing that she doesn't like about Floyd is how he calls her "Codfish", the same nickname Piper has for her.

Jade Leech: Jade and Jeanne are less close than her and Floyd, and because Jade has joked about trying to flirt with her younger sister, she can lose her patience with him rather easily... Still, she finds him funny most of the time, and his schemes always end up making her chuckle.

Leona Kingscholar: Jeanne has idolized Leona ever since she saw him on TV playing Spelldrive, and he is the reason why she got into the Spelldrive team in the first place. She wanted to transfer to Savanaclaw simply because of him, but because he said he didn't want to deal with her following him around like a puppy she decided against doing so. Leona will never admit it but he's grown fond of her.

Ruggie Bucchi: partners in crime. I repeat: partners in crime!! Both Jeanne and Ruggie are obsessed with riches and she often helps Ruggie steal and vice versa, always sharing the stolen goods 50-50; Ruggie doesn't understand her obsession with Leona though, but he gave up questioning her a long time ago.

Character references:

Characters cards:

Tamashina Mina/Cloudcalling on The Savannah

[rayadraws]

Another comparison, just because they're fun for me to write and think about: social life/friends & family/lovers:

Morwen:

Grew up as a lone dragonborn child surrounded by elves in a mountain monastery. They cared deeply about her and did their best to raise her, but did not always understand her needs. Had a loving father figure but he was not always present (traveling/on quests).

Has lingering abandonment issues, wants to belong to a "clan", is currently part of an adventuring party that she cares deeply about. Has long wanted to learn more about the dragonborn people, which she's made good progress on now.

Morwen's parents died before she hatched, but she has briefly seen her mother while visiting another plane. She is now determined to learn more about her family and wants to visit her would-be clan to see if anyone can share anything about her relatives.

Is dating a non-binary elf bard that she is also deeply fond of, is openminded about multiple partners but for now it's just her beloved Qinan. They are her first partner.

Cirrus:

Surprise tiefling child out of human parents, add being born during a bad storm and he was quickly dubbed Bad Omen by the people in the neighbourhood. His parents have always loved him and insisted that he's a sweet, gentle boy (he IS) but most of his life he was a social outcast blamed for all sorts of things happening around where he grew up.

When very young he would come with his parents so they could watch him while selling fish/seafood at markets. As he got a little older they thought he spent the days playing with the other children in the city until they came back home, in reality he could usually be found on his own in the dock area, watching the fishermen and sailors work while trying to hide from his bullies. He also spent a lot of time experimenting with his natural magic talent, it was one of his few sources of comfort and something he actually felt confident in.

During his teens and early adulthood things got a bit easier; he made a few friends and they liked to dress up and sneak into taverns to drink and socialize whenever they had a bit of extra money. Cirrus in particular enjoyed being social and flirting with men that caught his interest - under a layer of social anxiety (the result of how he was treated growing up) he is actually pretty extroverted and he enjoys closeness a lot.

He had a fair few one night stands and a few shorter relationships but nothing that lasted longterm until he met his future husband. While they quickly grew very fond of each other, Wyll wanted to court Cirrus "properly". That was foreign to Cirrus who was used to moving forward much faster. He actually came to enjoy being courted a lot, though he was practically vibrating with restraint at times until Wyll proposed to him.

Today he lives in the Upper City with his husband. He doesn't much enjoy the fancy parties and events as they remind him of being the center of (negative) attention, though he will put up with events that require his attendance until he can politely leave. The best place to find him is his personal library. He has a big armchair that he likes to curl up in - you'll know he's in there from the steady thump-thump-thump of his tail tapping against the fabric while he's engrossed in his reading.

Sorrel:

The first decades of his life it was just him and his mother, he only knew of other dragons (and humans) from stories she told him. After he was old enough she instructed him in how to take human form and he was taught how to read which allowed him to pursue more knowledge by reading all the books she had in her lair. This was followed by her taking him to towns while they were both in human form, allowing him to socialize under her watchful eye. He was kept at a pretty tight leash; it didn't take long until he started trying to sneak into cities on his own whenever he was unsupervised.

By the time he approached adulthood Sorrel was brimming with wanderlust and when his mother declared herself done raising him he set out without regrets. He has been on the move since, as many younger dragons tend to be, curious to see all the world has to offer him.

While an adult, by dragon standards Sorrel is still on the younger end of the scale. Other gold dragons generally agree that he's healthy-looking, good size for his age, shows good promise in general but he is still too young and inexperienced to truly be considered a prospective mate, yet anyway. Try again in a few hundred years.

By human standards he'll generally appear as quite the catch and Sorrel has had a number of one night stands while in human form, but he isn't interested in having a longterm relationship with a partner; that's not something dragons typically do even with each other. He likes people, he thinks it's fun to be around humans but he does fine on his own too, it doesn't bother him to travel on his own for weeks or even months.

Dietary preferences/habits among some of my DND/BG3 characters:

Morwen (dragonborn monk):

Was raised on lean elven foods, probably a lot of grains, meat would have been mostly dried/smoked/otherwise preserved. She would sometimes try to sneak into the food storages to get extra snacks. Even today when she fully decides herself what and when to eat she has a tendency to gorge herself or acquire too much when food is available. Prefers fresh meat over anything else, won't eat poultry or eggs; used to be judgmental towards others for doing so but has learned to accept it.

Cirrus (tiefling sorcerer):

Grew up in the Docks, a poorer side of the city of Baldur's Gate. Parents made sure there was always food on the table, but it was often simple due to a limited budget, typically potatoes, grains, cheap fish. As a teenager he more or less lived off fish and chips from street vendors.

During his time as an adventurer he's often had to sustain himself on whatever scraps the party could find, though things improved over time, in particular once they were back in the city.

During his year in Avernus it was (for him) foreign foods most of the time, he longed for the familiar foods he grew up with but they were rare and expensive in the Hells.

Since coming back to the city for good and settling down with his husband in the Upper City Cirrus has had access to all kinds of fancy cuisine but he still prefers the type of food he grew up with, often visiting the Lower City to buy fish and chips and similar meals.

(He still goes on the occasional quest, but on his and Wyll's terms, now).

(Also the kind of guy who forgets to eat at all, stumbling out of his personal library after realizing he's been in there for hours reading nonstop and now he's starving)

Sorrel (gold dragon):

The first decades of his life he was raised entirely on a pure draconic diet ie. meat and organs, normally raw, to ensure he would grow properly. Once he could take human form he was also introduced to all manners of human cuisine, which is what he mostly lives off nowadays, as it is more efficient than hunting in dragon form as well as offering a much larger variety of flavours and textures.

Sorrel is used to living off travel rations so he likes to indulge himself once he's in a city, often going straight to the first nice tavern he can find to buy a big hearty meal and nice wine to go with it.

He's familiar with a wide variety of foods and drinks thanks to all his wandering/travelling. Sometimes he'll go through the effort of travelling large distances to buy his favourite coffee or kind of seasoning that's used in a particular area, usually such long trips are made in dragon form, making them much faster while also requiring him to be discreet to avoid unwanted attention).

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

Siren Song (Song Mingi)

Ateez Masterlist                                                    Group Masterlist

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MINGI!!!!! I hope he has an amazing day

I wrote this being incredibly inspired and I quite like how it turned out so please let me know what you think

Tags: Pirate au! Mingi x Fem siren! Reader, death, nudity, alcohol

Smut tags: Quite soft, explorative, Mingi is curious, oral (reader receiving), passionate sex, body worship, a lot of kissing, cumming inside

Word count: 6177

Sirens, they were a beautiful myth. A story that sailors told to convince themselves they weren’t going mad at sea. A legend... if that’s what you believed in. 

But they weren’t a legend, they were very real. Some pirates and sailors would tell you that, tell you their stories. That they had heard their beautiful songs at sea and were almost lured in. Although not many, if any believed them. Being a pirate or at sea for a long period of time makes a man lose his credibility. However sirens, were very very real. 

Mingi was new to the boat, a fresh faced, wide eyed, young man who was ready to see the world. Becoming a pirate wasn’t something he had planned, it’s not something anyone truly plans. But society had failed him, because of his status. Being accused of something he didn’t do and found guilty, he didn’t have a choice but to run. Mingi feared nothing more than death, if he was caught he’d surely be hanged. 

No, becoming a pirate was never what he had planned. After running, he stowed away on a goods ship and somehow found himself in a pirate hotspot. Surrounded by pillagers, murderers and some things even possibly worse, he was terrified. Until a cheery man approached him named Kim Hongjoong, had a proposition for him, an offer to get Mingi out of there and give him a family. A man in his position could hardly say no. 

Now he was here, staring over the rails of the ship as they sailed slowly over misty water. He hadn’t been on waters like this in his entire life. They were filled with mystery, so much so it gave Mingi the feeling of fear in the pit of his stomach. 

“Carefull, lean over too far and you might fall in.” Yunho joked as he placed some crates on the deck. “I could’ve sworn I saw-” “You saw something in the water? Not uncommon in these parts.” Yunho told the younger, watching his expression shift. Mingi was a bit paranoid, you had to be when you’re life took a turn the way his did. 

“It’s common here?” Mingi asked, feeling a wave of security flow over him. He was just relieved to know he wasn’t the only one seeing things. “Very common. Don’t scare him Yunho, you were just as scared as him the first time you came here.” Captain Hongjoong’s voice startled the both of them, making them whip their heads around. “Sorry captain, I couldn’t help myself.” Yunho apologized and the captain shook his head with a smile. “Go bring those crates down to storage, Yeosang is waiting on them.” Yunho wasn’t one to disobey orders, so he grabbed them and left. 

“Don’t let them make you crazy. Or this part of the sea. I’ve known plenty of men who’ve gone crazy in these parts. I like you Mingi, don’t let yourself become one of them.” Hongjoong placed his hand on the younger’s back and watched as he smiled at him. “I won’t, Captain.” Mingi laughed slightly, feeling more at ease by the second. Hongjoong smiled at him in return before going to walk away, only to turn back at the last moment. “If you hear the sweet song of a woman, ignore it.” 

All that ease Mingi felt suddenly disappeared at those words, because well he didn’t quite understand what he meant. Siren’s weren’t common knowledge or a local myth in the town he grew up in. 

Scared, the man backed away from the railing and carried on with his tasks. Ignoring any sound that came from anywhere other than the ship. He was so immensly paranoid now , but there was also something in the back of his mind that his crew mates were just messing with him.

That evening, he found himself drinking with Wooyoung and San, admittedly his first mistake. He didn’t know how it was possible but with those two, he found himself drinking way more than he normally would. At least he was a happy drunk, cheery as ever this way and almost forgetting the reason he was there in the first place. The crew felt like real friends however, similar to one’s he had before running away so he didn’t quite have the right to complain. 

Mingi placed his bottle down on the deck and swayed over to the side of the boat. He felt like he was going to be sick, not that Wooyoung and San would’ve noticed. No they had long fallen asleep like the rest of the crew

Leaning over the deck, he looked at the black water. It was terrifying to him because of how deep it was. He couldn’t see anything, just a sea of black surrounding him. If he wasn’t nauseous before, he most definitely was now. 

When he looked back at the water, he wasn’t expecting to see eyes looking back at him. Let alone warm eyes, full of life, blinking at him from the water. It was a woman seemingly bobbing along and just watching him. He could only see her face and he wasn’t even sure he was actually seeing it. 

“It’s the alcohol.” He mumbled to himself, blinking and rubbing his eyes. But she didn’t disappear from sight. As a matter of fact, it seemed like she had swam closer. “Are you a pirate?” Her voice was smooth, warm in contrast to the brisk air and it made her all the more real. Mingi was frozen, just staring back at her with wide eyes and taking in the details. 

It seemed like she was surrounded by light, it reflected off of her damp skin as she raised her head and body more. Now exposing her bare shoulders, he realised she wasn’t wearing any clothing and averted his eyes, but only for a moment. He had caught something out of the corner of his eye, something silver that reflected the moon light. 

It was a shiny, silver tail that practically glowed. The closer he looked, the more he noticed that it was attached to her and well the more his fear rose. Though he wasn’t sure what the fear stemmed from, if it was not knowing what this creature was, or that he thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“What are you?” He asked, staring at her with an intrigued expression. Mingi couldn’t help but get goosebumps as she laughed, throwing her head back and expelling the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “That’s not a very kind question... though in hind sight I asked you the same thing.” She said, lifting her hands to move her long wet hair from her face. This left her body even more exposed to him, as she bobbed along the water. Though she didn’t seem fazed by it one bit. 

“How about this, you answer my question and I’ll answer yours?” She rebutted and Mingi stood with his mouth agape. “Alright.” He barely choked out and watched as she disappeared under the water, only to appear closer to the ship again. Now that she was closer, he could see her face better and he felt himself get nervous. She was beautiful, an ethereal being. 

“Are you a pirate?” She asked again, a curious smile on her face as she looked up at him. “I am.” Mingi responded, watching as she clapped her hands in joy. “Oh I do so much like pirates. So much more interesting than fishermen.” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke and Mingi was lost, as if she had cast spell. “Their stories are so much more interesting.” She added on before locking eyes with him once more. 

“Your turn.” She smiled at him and Mingi dried his hands on his pants, the situation had caused a cold sweat to form. “What are you?” His question was simple, yet still made the woman laugh again. “Surely a pirate knows a siren when he sees one, though if that was the case you probably would’ve tried to kill me.” She rambled as her tail splashed the dark water lightly. “A siren?” Mingi asked, not quite having heard the word before. “A siren... surely you’ve heard of them. You must be quite new to sea.” She said softly, the young pirate intrigued her. 

“Tell me your name, handsome pirate.” She asked softly and Mingi felt himself doubt whether he should tell her. She somehow managed to see right through him, however she called him handsome and that made a feeling bubble in the pit of his stomach. “Mingi.” He said it softly, merely a whisper, one he didn’t think she could hear. “Mingi.” She repeated much to his surprise. “Mingi... I like the way that feels to say.” She added on and he leaned down a bit more, trying to get closer to her. 

“Mingi, make sure to ask your crew about sirens.” She giggled before disappearing underwater, only to appear further away. Mingi’s heart sank, not wanting her to go, not yet. “Wait! Wait! At least tell me your name!” He called out to her, watching as she halted once more. She turned to look at him and with small laugh, she told him. “Y/N, my name is Y/N.” 

Mingi couldn’t find sleep, not at all after that. There was question in his mind whether all that he saw that night really happened. He had drank a lot and he had been at sea longer than ever before. It must’ve been a dream, a vision even. You were a dream, a vision. 

“Did you drink that much last night?” Captain Hongjoong asked, staring at his younger crew mate. He was gazing off into the distance, eyes small due to lack of sleep and hands restless. “No, I just couldn’t sleep.” Mingi admitted, not quite wanting to ask anyone about what he had seen. But if anyone would tell him seriously, it would be the captain. 

“What’s bothering you?” The man could tell when something was bothering his crew and it was incredibly obvious that something was bothering him. “It’s just something San and Wooyoung said yesterday...” “I told you not to listen to their stories.” The captain laughed and Mingi shook his head. “No, I just- what are sirens?” Mingi choked out the question, the thing that had been on his mind all night. Hongjoong wasn’t expecting the question to lead here, he thought the man knew.

“You don’t know? I thought you did when I made my comments yesterday.” He watched as the younger shook his head. “Well, many think they’re legend. I suppose I understand why, the brain refuses to believe what it can’t see. But they are very much real.” He paused and Mingi was starting to become scared. Maybe it was his captain’s tone of voice, or maybe it was the validation that you weren’t a figment of his imagination. 

“They’re beautiful beings, more beautiful than any of the other evil things put on this earth. Top half of a beautiful woman and the bottom half a tail. Not to mention their voices, they lure sailor men in with their song and beauty. Only to drag them to bottom of the ocean and drown them. Most sailors fall for it, they just want a kiss from the beautiful thing so that when they go back home they have a story to tell. Fools, can’t blame the creatures for doing it.” Mingi was mortified at his captain’s words. To think he found you to be the most beautiful thing in the world. The prettiest things were the deadliest, that was what Mingi was starting to learn. 

Mingi took the words as warning, if you appeared again he wasn’t going to give you the time of day. At least that’s what he told himself. Despite the tale, he wanted to see you again. So badly, he found himself dreaming about you. His eyes deceived him as stared out at the sea, he could have sworn he saw the sunlight reflect off of your silver tail.

But he had to push the to the side, there was an island incomming. It was nothing more than a small island, no living thing in sight. Nothing but beaches and trees, good enough to hunt and good enough to make sure the men didn’t go crazy on board. Which meant everyone around was scrambling around and preparing to drop the anchor. 

His eyes were glued on the water as they rowed to shore. Mingi was entirely sure he would never see you again, they had travelled quite far in the last 2 days and well it’s not like you had a reason to stick around. He was sure of it, but he didn’t want to be right. 

The plan was to stay on the island over night, sleep in the tree line and then go back in the morning once they had gathered enough and hunted enough. Simple enough.

Well, night rolled around quickly and the crew was sound asleep. Everyone except Mingi, no he had hardly slept a wink since you visited him. He simply laid in his hammock and counted the stars through the tree tops. That was until he heard a song. An absolutely heavenly voice coming from the shore. 

Mingi knew he shouldn’t have gotten up, he knew it. But there was a chance that it was you and he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to see you again, despite what his captain had told him. 

The sand crunched beneath his boots as he slowly walked over to the shore line, scanning the beach and looking for the source of the voice. Looking over, he could see a group of rocks and on top of the largest one, he spotted it. That familiar glow of your tail in the moonlight and the way you looked up at the sky and sang. 

Waling slowly, he listened to your song and your beautiful voice as you stared at the night sky. The closer he got, the more he found his chest aching. He couldn’t tell if it was with fear or desire and that line got more blurred the closer he got. 

“Mingi!” Your voice was cheery when you noticed him approaching you and it was accompanied with an enthousiastic wave. “Surely Y/N isn’t as malicious as Hongjoong told me.” He thought to himself as he stood in front of the rock. You were as beautiful as ever, sitting in front of him. 

“I was hoping you’d be the one to come and find me.” She teased, a soft smirk on her lips as Mingi tried not to gawk at you. “You’re even more handsome up close.” She added on and he felt himself get nervous. “You told me to ask my crew what a siren was. I did.” Mingi told you, playing with his hands so he had something else to look at. “Hmm and what did they tell you?” You were staring at him, truly wanting him to look at you again. 

When Mingi finally brought his eyes back to you, he noticed that your tale was gone, now showing a pair of legs and a very, very bare body. “How?-” He stuttered and you laughed, loving the surprise on his face. “They apparently didn’t tell you everything. if we’re dry and on land, we have legs.” You explained, watching as his eyes trailed over your body. 

“Are you going to kill me?” Mingi asked, finding it better to be straightforward from this point on. It’s better to have feigned confidence than nothing at all. “No. You fascinate me. I don’t kill the things that fascinate me.” You were so blunt about it, raking your hands through your hair. “Come here, pirate and tell me your story. It’s not every day a pirate doesn’t know the legend of a siren. Whether they believe it or not.” Mingi was caught off guard, not sure what to do. The sea was far enough away, which comforted him because he knew you couldn’t drown him on this rock. 

He moved to sit across from you on the rock and tried to avoid staring at your bare body, averting his eyes before shrugging off his vest and handing it to you. “I’m sorry, I’m having a hard time concentrating.” Mingi stuttered, you smiled at him though and an odd feeling shot through your chest. “Most sailors would simply enjoy.” You said and slipped the clothing over your shoulders. Mingi shook his head, a small smile now forming over his own lips. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy it.” He clarified and looked at you wearing his clothes. You were beautiful. 

“You’re a different type of man, Mingi.” Why his name sounded so good coming from your lips, he had no idea. But it was absolutely addicting. 

“How did you end up out here?” You asked, stretching your legs and leaning back. You loved a good story, where as your sisters didn’t quite like talking but preferred a siren’s typical methods. 

“This wasn’t how my life was supposed to be, I wasn’t supposed to end up here.” Mingi had te delve deep for a moment. Sure some of the crew knew his story, but it wasn’t something he told just anyone. 

“I lived in a town that was quite progressive, I worked under and iron smith as an apprentice. I did good, I was a good man and i just tried to make it by like anyone else.” You watched as he spoke, taking in his details and tone. He was sad. “I never tried to hurt anyone and if I did it wasn’t on deliberate. But my master, he wasn’t good. He actively tried hurting people, especially ones he hated and he didn’t hate anyone more than his own daughter. I never understood why, she was pretty, kind and well liked among the town but he hated her.” Mingi had to pause, remembering that time, remembering the sweet girl that was always so nice to him when he worked. 

“I came into the shop one day and found her, dead on the ground, strangled. Her father did it and pinned it on me. Claiming that I ‘always watched her when she was around’ and that I was ‘just wait for a chance to be alone with her’. I-” Mingi was cut off when a tear dropped from his eyes. You had placed your hand on his chin, wiping it away with your thumb. “You never touched her.” You said softly, scanning his face. “I never did, They were going to hang me for something I didn’t do. I had to run.” You continued to wipe the tears from his face, moving onto your knees to get closer to him. 

“And that’s how you ended up here.” You had heard many sad stories in your life, but none of the men had seemed nearly as regretful as Mingi did in this moment. Your hand moved from his chin to his cheek, taking in his handsome features. Even when he was upset, he was handsome. Sharp jawline coupled with a sharp nose and pillowy lips. Definitely one of the more handsome men at sea. 

“You know in your heart that you didn’t do it.” You said softly, moving your fingers to thread through his hair. Mingi found himself staring at your face, taking note of your sympathetic face. Surely you weren’t the murderous creature he was told you were. 

“My sisters aren’t fond of men, they kill them for sport. But I like hearing the stories, it takes a lot to drive a man out to sea.” You explained and gently pulled his face closer to yours. Mingi felt himself sink into your touch, allowing you to guide him into laying down with his face settled in the crook of your neck. Your skin was soft under his touch and his hands found your waist to hold onto as he relaxed. Your nails scraped over his scalp lightly, making him hum. 

“You have a pure soul.” You said softly, enjoying his touch. Mingi didn’t know what had gotten into him, he had went from being scared of you to being held by you and well he was enjoying it. Your touch was comforting. 

Your legs tangled with his, fingers still running through his hair. “Go to sleep Mingi. Dawn is almost upon us.” You whispered, kissing his forehead and allowing him to lul to sleep. Mingi had let his guard down fully for you and as ridiculous as it sounded, he was falling in love. 

The hours in your arms, were the best hours he had ever slept. Being in such a deep dream that he didn’t think even an earthquake could wake him. He dreamt that he was underwater and absolutely weightless. Just floating under the surface of chrystal clear water. You were swimming circles around him, silver tail catching the rays of light from the sun as you did so. He felt as if he was one with the ocean. 

It wasn’t until the feeling of something pushing him (quite roughly) woke him up and brought him back to reality. “Jesus Christ Mingi, we thought you’d be killed by something. What are you doing all the way out here?” Wooyoung’s voice was shrill as he yelled to wake Mingi up. “Huh?” He shot up from his position on the rock, looking around frantically for you. But you were nowhere to be found and well, neither was his vest. 

“What are you doing out here?” Wooyoung asked again and Mingi shook his head, needing to come up with a response and fast. “I uhh couldn’t sleep last night, went for a walk and then sat down here. Guess I fell asleep.” He cleared his throat and blinked at his friend. “You’ve been acting strange Mingi. Are you alright?” He asked, voice full of concern. Mingi never acted this odd, Wooyoung was worried. 

“I’m fine, just haven’t been sleeping properly.” He admitted and ran his fingers through his hair. Your touch was still lingering on his skin, he could feel you everywhere. 

“Captain wants to stay here one more night, founds some caves and a lake he wants to check out.” Wooyoung explained and Mingi nodded. “Alright, I’ll be around in a bit.” Mingi said softly, needing a moment to process some things. Where had you gone?

He had managed to pull himself together, rejoining the crew in exploring the island. Traipsing through the trees, he looked around the area and took it in. One thing he could admit was that he never would have seen half of the beautiful things he had if he had stayed in his village, you included. He couldn’t take that for granted, especially not as he was standing in front of a small waterfall that fell into a small crystal clear lake. 

“Wow.” He said quietly, feeling Hongjoong clap his hand onto his back. “Not something you see everyday.” His captain said, a big smile on his face. Mingi couldn’t help but crack a smile himself, shaking his head. “Definitely not something you see everyday.” He laughed, looking over to the waterfall and laughing. The bad feeling he had had about you was gone, the bad feeling in his gut was gone. Airing his worries out to you made him feel better, things were looking up in his opinion. Maybe he would sleep properly from now on too. 

The pirates made camp near the water and Mingi found himself once more staring into water. It was so clear but you couldn’t see the bottom. It was deceptively deep, someone could easily make the mistake of swimming too deep and not make it back up for air. It looked like the water from his dream.  

The feeling of gentle fingertips gliding over his cheek woke him up that night. He knew his crew wouldn’t spare him the same gentle touch, it had to be you. “Wake up handsome.” Your fingertips moved from his cheek to his chin, stroking it gently as you took in features. Truly handsome. 

“Where’d you go this morning?” Mingi asked, eyes opening slowly to see your face. He watched as your lips curled into smile and your eyes sparkled. “Come on.” You said softly, taking his hand into yours. Pulling Mingi from his bed, he didn’t even question it. He had decided that this island was his paradise. 

“You stole my vest.” Mingi commented once they were further away from the rest of the crew. He watched you let out a hearty laugh and turn around to look at him. “I found myself quite liking it. I think i could get used to this clothing thing.” You smiled, before tugging him closer to you. 

He felt his breath hitch for a moment as your chest met his, it was a natural reaction. The only thing keeping his body from yours was his vest, naturally he was flustered. Mingi pressed his chest against you, the weight of his body making you step backwards until your back hit a boulder. 

“You keep calling me handsome.” Mingi remarked, his hand coming up to rest on your bare hip. It was the first time a man’s touch had made goosebumps form over your skin. “You keep calling me handsome and I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful I think you are.” His words made you almost shiver. Of course you had heard them all before, he wasn’t your first pirate or sailor. But surely they had a different effect on you than most. 

You grabbed his chin again, this time with more force than any of the other times. Mingi flinched slightly only to find your lips not inches apart from his and he took the risk. He was going to kiss a siren. 

He didn’t intend to kiss you so roughly, but need took over as he pressed his lips to yours. You moved your hands to his hair and gently scratched over his scalp as he kissed you. Deepening the kiss as you did so, you could feel him hum against your lips. His hand moved up, from your hip to your waist underneath vest and his grip tightened slightly. 

Mingi moved his hands down to your thighs, lifting you off the ground to lay you down on your back. The vest had shifted, being useless in covering you up at this point, so you simply took it off. He sat on his heels as you wrapped your legs around his waist, not wanting his body to leave yours. You simply looked up at him as he looked over your body, his regularly soft expression having turned dark and intense. It made heat pool inbetween your legs. 

Reaching up, you undid the ties on his shirt and tugged it off of him. The action made him laugh before he leaned down and pressed his bare chest to yours. His hands moving your hair out of your face before kissing you again. This kiss was so much more intense, teeth clashing and hips rolling into yours. Not to mention the feeling of his bare skin on yours, you were infatuated with him. 

His pants didn’t do much for hiding how much he enjoyed you, bulge pressing directly into your bare core. You let out a gasp at the pressure, making him nip at your lips before trailing the kisses down your jaw. He wasn’t horribly experienced but he knew enough and well he seemed to be doing just fine. That gave him a confidence boost, not to mention every little sound coming out of your mouth, boosted his confidence even more. 

“Mingi-” You hummed, feeling his lips over your neck. The kisses were gentle, soft praises being whispered inbetween them. “So beautiful.” He said softly and groaned as you tugged harshly on his hair. Mingi looked you in the eyes and flashed a smile in your direction. “Where did you learn how to kiss like that?” You asked, your fingers tracing over his lips. “I had a life before this.” He chuckled before turning his face back to your skin. 

His hands moved to massage your breasts, thumbs swiping over your nipples before latching his lips over one. Sucking at your skin and sending a wave of pleasure through your body and making your arch your back. 

Mingi was absolutely straining in his pants now, your body was perfect to him as if you were made for him. Your soft skin, your precious lips and your gentle hands, you were everything he had always wanted. 

Your fingers threading through his hair got a bit harsher the more he flicked his tongue of your nipple, you already felt like you were on fire. He moved his lips down over your stomach before stopping at before your core. This was something he had never done, but something he had always wanted to do. 

Spreading your thighs a little further, he settled between your legs and wrapped his arms around them. “What are yo- Oh.” You moaned, feeling the light kiss on your core. It almost made you feel lightheaded and dizzy, as his tongue delved deeper. Licking up your juices, he couldn’t help but moan. Perhaps it was because of what you were, or maybe you truly were built for him, but you tasted sweet and addictive. He wanted more of you. 

You raised your hips, guiding your core over his tongue and moaning out. “Mingi please don’t stop.” You moaned out, needing to feel that sweet sweet release. it was the way you moaned out his name, repeatedly like you were saying a prayer, he wasn’t going to stop until you came. He pulled you closer to his face, harshly and showed you that he truly wasn’t planning on stopping. 

The coil in your stomach quickly burst, making your hips buck as you tried to pull away from him. The whines coming out of your mouth were music to his ears as he continued to lick over your core, lapping up every bit of your juices that he could and finally pulling away. 

You looked at him as he sat on his heels again, lower part of his face glistening with your juices and breathing heavily. “Did that also get taught to you from your life before this?” You asked, sitting up to undo his pants. His arms hung at his sides and he simply let you do it for him. “Actually, I’ve never done that before.” Mingi admitted, making your actions halt. It felt entirely too good for it to have been his first time. You raised an eyebrow at him before pushing him back, making him lay on the ground. 

“I feel like you’re lying to me.” You said, tugging his pants down and watching his cock spring up. “I don’t lie.” He said and you shook your head. You straddled him, your core right over his and you braced your hands on his chest. “All men lie.” You whispered, leaning down and placing a quick kiss on his lips. His hands moved to your ass and helped you sink down onto him. “I like to think I’m not like all men. Especially not what you’re used too” He groaned, finally being enveloped in you. You took a moment to let your body adjust to his, breathing through the stretch and feeling a warmth in your chest as his fingers laced with yours. It was a comforting action, to distract you from the discomfort however slight it was. Maybe Mingi wasn’t like all men. 

You raised his hands over his head, pinning them there with your own as you started raising your hips. Allowing yourself to bounce on him, you felt so incredibly full. Filling you up completely and making your legs shake slightly but you put that to the side. It felt too good to stop. 

Mingi was even more convinced than before that you were made for him with the way you squeezed him. You released his hands and placed yours back on his chest, needing more support as you continued to ride him. He was hitting that sweet spot inside of you with every little bit he raised his hips to meet your thrusts. 

“You feel so good.” Mingi moaned out, hands pulling your chest flush against his. he planted his feet on the ground, fucking up into you and taking over. He was chasing his own high, needing a harsher pace and leaving you stuttering. 

You watched his face, from his shut eyes to his clenched jaw. That alone was almost enough to make you orgasm again. You kissed his lips to hide your moans as you felt them getting louder, his crew still being only a small distance away. He kissed you in return as his own stomach filled with warmth. He was so close to release and just needed that little bit to send you both over the edge. Your hand found his hair once more, tugging it in response to a harsh thrust and that did it. His hips stuttered and deep groans left his lips as he planted himself deep inside of you. Orgasm coating your walls and sending you over the edge with him. 

You lay there ontop of him, feeling incredibly full as he stroked your hair. “You are different from most men.” You mumbled softly, feeling a wave guilt come through you. “Most men don’t care the way you do.” Your words shrunk in volume even more, guilt and shame taking over you. Maybe it was guilt over your past actions, the men you had dragged to the bottom of the ocean, maybe it was about what you were going to do. 

Mingi helped you get off of him, watching you lay down next to him. You rested your head on his chest and he stroked your hair. The few times he had been with someone this way, yes they had been special. But nothing quite like this, Mingi was overwhelmed with love. 

“Y/N?” His tone sounded questioning, almost as unsure as the first night he had met you. “I think I might be in love with you.” He confessed, the feeling in his chest no longer being contained. He really couldn’t help himself, the last few days had been filled with you. Not just physically, but you were in his heart. You were speechless at his words, the guilt now eating you alive. 

“Come with me.” You said, pushing yourself off of the ground. Mingi couldn’t care anymore, not if you were completely bare or if he was. No, he only knew he would follow you anywhere. 

“Where are we going?” He asked, as you lead him towards the lake. “I feel sticky, I want to go for a swim.” You told him, hardly being able to look him in the eyes anymore. “Join me.” You added on, holding his hand gently, you stood before the water together.

 “Hey.” Mingi said softly, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks and make you look at him. You hadn’t even realised it, but tears were falling over your cheeks. “What’s wrong?” He asked, those beautiful brown eyes boring holes into your own. You had never felt this guilty before. “Nothing’s wrong...” Your voice trailed off and looked to his lips once more. You started walking forward, making him walk backwards towards the water. 

He stepped in slowly, leaning forward to kiss you as he did so. “Mingi... I love you too.” You admitted, deciding that that was where the guilt stemmed from. Mingi felt his chest get warm once more, not being used to this at all but wondering how your life together could be from this point on. 

He kissed you, harshly and you sighed into it before diving forward. You both fell into the water, lips still locked and you gripped his wrist. You needed to get rid of your guilt and now was better than any other time. 

Mingi wasn’t entirely aware of how far down into the lake you had pulled him. Your hand wrapped around his wrist as your silver tail brought you both down towards the bottom quickly. 

It wasn’t until it was already too late that Mingi realised that this was his dream. Down at the bottom of a lake, the moonlight shining down through the surface as Mingi felt absolutely weightless. You let him go and swam around him, watching him blink under the water as he watched you.

He started feeling himself go lightheaded, dizzy as his lungs started to burn. He was starting to realise that his dream wasn’t a dream, it was a warning and it was now too late. Feeling his vision go dark, the last thing he saw was that silver glimmer of your tail in the moonlight and your beautiful face. 

Despite being the thing that killed him, he still thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

A/N: Again please let me know what you think! This is quite different from what I normally write. There will most definitely be typos but please,ignore those lmao

[sohin-ace]

Bucciarati - My little Seastar

Sister reader. Enjoy~

"Hey, Bucciarati! Can you help me for a sec?"

You turned towards the direction of the voice calling you and stopped in your tracks on the wooden docks.

"What do you want, Valentino?" You spat, a bit more harshly than intended.

The smug boy who was crouched on his zodiac chuckled at you. "Aw, come on, Bucciarati! Don't be like that. I just need some help to tie the rope. Your dad is a fisherman, right? You should know knots like no one else!"

Even though he had said this as a way to woo you and flatter you somehow, you couldn't help but hear it as a condescending remark. You crossed your arms over your chest and he pouted at the glare you sent him.

"Pretty please~? No funny business, I swear! Look, the guys aren't even here, I'm all alone. You can trust me!"

That's right. Valentino and his little gang took great pleasure in teasing you and bothering you at every corner and it pissed you off. No matter how much you insulted them, ignored them or avoided them, they never seemed to stop their stupid and useless bullying.

But sadly, oh so sadly, the Bucciarati that you were was kind. Too kind. You despised that you were so gentle-hearted, but in the end, this is how your father and brother had raised you.

You huffed and slumped your arms loose along your body, defeated. "Fine!" You dragged your sandals over the dock and approached him. "It better be quick."

The boy beamed as you embarked on the zodiac next to him, "Sure thing! Thanks a lot, girl. I'll make it up to you!"

He gave you the ropes as you crouched down at his place and got to work. But without you noticing, the boy had swiftly slid his leg over the vehicle and easily jumped back into the dock, leaving you behind.

Before you could even turn around and ask where he was going, the brat, now accompanied by all three of his little buddies that appeared out of their hiding spot, all kicked the zodiac off of the dock before you could even tie it.

"Waah-!"

You lost balance at the violent jerk of the boat and yelped, letting go of the ropes that could have saved you from your demise.

You couldn't even get back to your knees and try desperately to grab onto the dock's wooden planks. You heard the boys snickering and laughing at you as you drifted farther and farther away from the land into the water.

"I fucking knew it you disgusting piece of TRASH!" You yelled at them, angry with them obviously, but also angry with yourself for granting that bastard the benefit of the doubt. "You know damn well I can't swim!"

They all seemed to laugh even louder, obnoxiously. "Too bad for you Bucciarati! Maybe you shouldn't be so stupid next time! BWAHAHAHA!"

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE VALENTINO! SCREW YOU!"

Your curses and wails seem to fall into deaf ears as you drifted even farther away from the coast, with no way of even paddling back.

Looking around towards the much bigger boats parked along the docks, you could only hope 'he' would hear you.

"PAPA!! PAPAAA!!!" You called desperately. Surely he would hear you, he wasn't far after all, you did come all the way here to bring him his lunch. He must still be somewhere around the fishing boats.

After a few more vain attempts to call for your father, you settled to accept that he wouldn't hear you, nor would the other fishermen that were already far gone from their boats to bring their catches to land.

You sat on the damp zodiac and brought your knees to your chest, not even caring if your sundress slid down your thighs indecently and got stained by the salty water. Stupid Valentino couldn't even keep his tiny boat clean.

"Stupid, stupid..." Your voice cracked, threatening to break into a sob. "If he was a sailor he'd be dead before even sailing. That's how stupid this stupid boy is. Stupid."

With only your expletives to reassure you in your demise, you buried half of your face in your arms now craddling your cold knees.

Everything was so silent, the sea did a great job at muting every sound around the coast and you felt the loneliest and most scared you had ever been since you were a child.

You thought nobody would find you, and you'd be dead drowning because you could never learn to swim and since nobody even noticed your absence in minutes that felt like hours, nobody would cry for you if you died here either.

And so the stinging tears prickled at your eyes.

"Y/N?" You heard a familiar voice calling your name, but brushed it off as the wind. "Y/N is that you?"

You looked up towards the insistant voice in a sliver of hope and, like an angel fallen from heaven, you were met with the caring blue gaze of your big brother from the railings of one of the high boats right next to where you had drifted to.

"Bruno!" You gasped and got up immediately, almost falling over from the sudden sway of the boat under your weight. "A-ah! Bruno help me, I'm stuck!"

"Hold on!" The worried face of the male hesitated to leave you for even a split second. "I'm coming down. Don't move."

You nodded at his strict tone and waited for him as he disapeared. Your breath caught in your throat with stress, even though you were reassured to finally have a savior. And what a savior it was, your one and only big brother.

Barely a minute passed before you saw him come back and unravel an emergency ladder down to you. He made sure the ladder was all tight and secure and almost immediately after, Bruno jumped over the railing, to your grand fright, and started climbing down, your heart pounding with worry for him.

He finally arrived down and stepped into the zodiac, joining you, like a glorious hero, saving the day. You barely let him any time to react as you threw yourself into his chest and gripped viciously at the back of his shirt, scrunching it without care, scared to be alone at sea again.

Bruno wanted to scold you and yell at you for recklessly playing around all alone in the docks and ending yourself in such a dire situation. But when he felt you trembling and squeezing him like your life depended on it, which ironically it did, the elder couldn't help but sigh and wrap his long arms around your shoulders, a gesture of comfort.

"... What happened to you?"

"It's-" You choked a sob and Bruno tutted and shushed you softly, patting your head to calm you down, just like your mother used to do when you were a child.

"Shhh, it's okay bambina, I'm here now."

He felt you relax and you sniffled a few times before mumbling into his shirt. "It's Valentino! He tricked me! I hate him! He's such a coglione!"

"Hey! Language." He scolded and pinched your arm, earning a little 'ow' from you, "What would dad think if he heard you say such words? Bite your tongue, young lady."

"S-sorry..." You croaked a little ashamed of your outburst and lifted your head up at your brother. "They always do this to me... Valentino and the others... Why...? They know I can't swim and they throw me into the water all the time..."

Bruno let go of you to cup your face and wipe your tears off. He did not let it show to you but he was infuriated. There was only so much patience an Italian man could have when his family was being targeted. Especially his little sister and the only lasting woman of his life.

"Shh, stop crying now, mia stellina marina. I'll deal with them later, okay? Let's get you home for now."

"They'll see." You sniffled as your breath steadied, calmed by Bruno's soft tone, "When I'll marry a big, tall, goth policeman, he'll beat them up for me and then, they won't act so cocky anymore."

He huffed with amusement at your words before he let you go and laid a gentle hand on your back to usher you towards the ladder.  Bruno, still with a bit of confusion, mumbled to himself without you hearing it.

"... Why goth, though?"

Only now had you noticed the zodiac had stopped drifting since Bruno found you, held onto the much bigger boat by a phantom blue and white arm and a golden zipper that you'd recognize from a mile away.

"Can we... Can we let the zodiac in here?" You asked hesitantly towards your brother who paid no mind to it.

"Who cares? It's not ours."

With thoughts of Valentino's expensive motorboat getting lost in the sea, you slowly took ahold of the ladder's ropes and started climbing, Bruno keeping it steady for you until he was sure you embarked in safely.

He then joined you up and lent you a spare jacket that he thankfully thought of taking with him in the morning, covering you from the cold of your drenched dress against the littoral wind.

"Thank you Bruno..." You softly uttered and hugged his warm jacket closer around you, "I always cause you trouble..."

"Nonsense, piccolina. I could never live knowing my sister is crying, cold and afraid somewhere." He squeezed your shoulder against him as you approached the stall your father and his colleagues were filling with freshly caught fishes. "I'll make sure you're the one that never gets troubled again..."

Fortunately for you, the day ended much more peacefully than it had started and your father was happy and relieved to find you safe and uninjured. He had specifically instructed Bruno to not get involved or make a scene, but of course, his son was a stubborn mediterranean who could not let anything just slide.

It was not the first, not the second, nor even the third time this boy, 'Valentino' and his friends, had taken offense towards you.

So, Bruno would make sure the zodiac Valentino had worked oh-so-hard to afford, part-timing as a waiter, cleaning after people's messes, scrubing disgusting shit-stained lavatories and cutting his hands off of plastic and metal scraps scattered along the beaches for a few cents per day, got thoroughly anihilated to pieces.

"NOOOO!!!! MY ZODIAC !!!! MY 50 000€ BAAABYYYYYY!!! WHYYYYY???!!"

The very next day, as you walked along the docks to bring some fishing materials to your brother, you heard the painful wails of a very familiar boy kneeling down and crying on the woodplanks, his screams echoing against the shore.

"SHUT UP BRAT! You'll think about your money after you pay for the fines I'm about to give you. You think you can get away with polluting the water with your gross ass wreckage?" A tall and burly policeman wearing purple lipstick growled at the kneeling boy, no signs of mercy in his baritone voice. "You'll have a reason to cry when you pay for the oil you spilled in here. You're lucky I'm not throwing your ass in jail right now."

"Officer please-" Valentino pleaded miserably, but the policeman did not hold back on pushing all fives of the different citations he had owned by having pieces of his zodiac scattered all around the precious ressourceful ocean.

"You have two weeks to pay up and clean all that shit." The officer fixed his shades over his nose before turning around to leave. "And expect to receive a salty lawsuit soon. Fucking whiny bitchbaby..."

The policeman left with a determined and impatient step as you witnessed the entire scene with wide eyes, not noticing your brother approaching.

"Oh no... That's horrible..." You gasped with sympathy and worry, "I hope the fishes and corals won't get impacted by the oil spill..."

"Oh don't worry," Bruno chuckled, taking the heavy loads off your hands, "I made sure to zip that out of the water."

You blinked, confused.

"...What?"

"What...?"

That fic was inspired by the very first scene of H2O, I love that show so much, and I can't wait to post my mermaid fics in store!

[falconcoast]

hii congrats on 800 !!

childe + what ring would he choose ?

rules for requesting here!

childe + what ring he chooses

the eleventh harbinger has been up since six in the morning. 

as liyue harbor wakes up for the day, he’s racing through the streets of feiyun slope. he’s hastily apologizing to the merchant he just bumped into, picking up a toy that he just knocked down from a small child, and excusing himself as he cuts the lines to some of the food stalls. he needs to get that jeweler zhongli had referenced, right now. 

last night, you two had walked along the shoreline of the city, watching fishermen, sailors, and merchants walk about the stone streets. you swung your hands haphazardly, cheerfully pointing out the imports and exports coming in from each ship. “you know,” you had said, stopping as you reached the end of the harbor and looked out to the sea of clouds. “i love being able to do this with you. i wish we could do it everyday.” 

“you and i could do this every day if you want,” he countered. “we could walk along the harbor as many times as you want if it makes you happy.” 

“ah, that would mean we would have to be close to each other all the time. we don’t live together yet, and you and i are both so busy with our jobs. we would have to get married in order to do so.” 

the word struck a chord inside of him as he froze. marriage. childe had been thinking about marriage a lot lately, wondering if you would be interested in settling down with him. he knew that he loved you more than anyone else in his life, and he knew that he needed to marry you before anyone else could. 

as soon as you had said those words, he was already planning out how to somehow get your ring size, (which he had eventually gotten that same night after you had fallen asleep cuddling him). hence, that is why childe is running through the streets of liyue frantically. 

he needed to get a ring, and fast. you are sound asleep at his house right now, and if you wake up without him, you’ll surely be suspicious. as he rounds the corner, he slams open the door of the jeweler’s shop. 

the owner looks at him curiously. “rather early for a customer to show up, but no the matter. what do you require?” 

childe doesn’t respond, instead choosing to look at the shiny rings in the display case. there are several different cuts on display, ranging from princess, to oval, to round to a heart. there are silver rings, gold rings, and other various metals making up the band. he critiqued them, contemplating whether you would like them or not. 

eventually, his eyes settle on a golden ring. they are a set, one that’s a plain gold band and the other studded with five sizeable diamonds. the one in the center is slightly larger than the others, but it’s what makes it stand out to childe. though it was more on the simple side compared to the intricate rings surrounding it, he hardly cares. it was perfect, and would look even more perfect on your fourth finger. 

“that golden ring with the five studs,” childe breathes out to the owner, looking at it with hope in his eyes. “i’ll take it.”

[smallraindrops-blog]

Wake me from this dreaming

(Part ten)

Hypnos x male!reader

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Some Angst, talk of family issues, depression, suicidal ideation, fighting, abuse, death, trauma. No beta

Note:

So, i am running on little sleep after being called into work early. A lot of talking in this one but tbh it needs to happen.

There are some hard parts but they will find each other in the end.

Enjoy.

The Masterlist

You caught the eye of a fisherman, his face old and weathered.

“You don’t look like a fisherman, lad.” The old sailor said. You looked up from the net, half-full with flopping sealife.

“I am a man and I have fish.” You said, “Thus most would say I am a fisherman.”

The old man laughed in surprise, then he coughed. You finish pulling out the net and begin separating what will go to the market and which fish will return to the sea.

He kneeled down to help, and even you could hear his bones crack as he did. “I guess I can’t ask too many questions. The captain is really appreciative of you especially since you could just sell these things yourself.”

“Don’t want to deal with people.” You said, hoping the old man will get the hint. He didn’t and kept talking. “We don't have too many men wanting to be fishermen.”

“No sons?” You asked, not really caring but you knew you had to be civil with fellow fishermen.

“They went to war. Seeking riches and glory.” The old man said quietly and you knew you found a sore spot. You bit your tongue, there was no point in telling an old man that his sons were fools. After all, you were among those fools only mere years ago.

You and him worked in silence, the only sound was the crying of birds and the waves crashing against the boat.

Later, when the day’s work was done, the old man pushed something in your hand. You frowned, it was an old toy of a horse, small in your hand. A faint memory came back, of gentle hands and a warm fire and a full belly.  Of being given your name.

You looked at the old man, his back hunched but he smiled at you.

“Poseidon made horses, you know.” He said, nodding to the toy. “Keep it, this is a lucky thing to have.”

“Won’t you need it?” You asked. A part of you wanted to laugh at the old man’s foolishness but you didn’t. There was something about this man that reminded you of your parents.

He squinted at the sea with a faint smile. “Ah, I won’t be needing it anymore, lad.”

And with that he hobbled away.

When you got to your house, small with a single room just for you, you placed the horse on the table.

You sat on the bed, head in hands and told yourself you will not weep again.

~

You gave Hypnos the spear, and adjusted his grip. Your hands covered his more slender hands for a moment as you moved his fingers in the correct position. “Hold it like this, otherwise you will drop it.” You told him as you stepped back.

You may have given in too easily to his big golden eyes but you would make sure he knew how to train properly. You eyed the spear, wishing you had a practice one and not the very sharp one you used for guarding.

“I didn’t expect it to feel heavy, wouldn’t that be a big hassle during a battle?” Hypnos bit his lip.

You shook your head, “No, you aren’t used to the weight of a weapon. You only use magic, correct?”

Hypnos nodded, looking at you then to the spear. “Yeah. I just never needed a weapon when my magic was strong enough.”

“Good.” You replied, “Now-“

“Wait, really? It's good?” Hypnos frowned at you, and he waved with one of his hands. “I thought you would be…” he stopped and in a poor mimic of your voice said, “One must know how to use a weapon or they are a coward! And not a warrior!”

You laughed after a moment, “I don't sound like that.”

Hypnos grinned, a faint blush on his cheeks. “Close enough.”

“And yes, it’s good. Think about it.” You told him. “Any weapon someone carries can get taken away from them. My father spent countless hours training me to prevent that. Because usually once a warrior loses their weapon, they lose their life.”

You held up your hand, showing him your knuckles. They were damaged from the many fights you had, and even someone inexperienced as Hypnos could see it.

“Oh.” Hypnos said softly.

“I like fighting with my hands. It always came naturally to me and with my strength, it was an advantage I had but even that can be taken, either by removing my hands or just too much damage over a lifetime of fighting.”

“I never thought like that before. It just comes to me as easily as breathing you know?” Hypnos said as you dropped your hands.

“Can your magic be taken away?” You asked, eyes narrowed. The idea of the little god being left magicless and helpless sparked a surprise concern in you.

“Not really? It can but to take a god’s magic is difficult and never long lasting.” Hypnos shrugged with a slight grin. “Which is good in your book, right?”

“Right.” You agreed, the knot loosen just a little bit. “Now enough chitchat.”

The first couple attempts were absolute failures and you privately wondered if maybe the spear was too heavy for someone like Hypnos. You might have to special order him a spear more suited to him.

Hypnos looked up at you then away, his eyes on the ground and a frown on his face. And you couldn’t have that.

“Last time.” You said, coming over to him. “Stand straight. And hold the spear like I showed you.”

Hypnos obeyed even if he did sigh a little. “Okay what now?”

You stood behind him, and reached over to cover his hands with yours. His back was against your chest and you tried not to think how easily Hypnos fit against you.

“Follow my movements.” You ordered quietly. With gentleness, you moved his arms, and Hypnos followed, moving his body along with yours. You kept your voice low as you told him every step.

“Now jab forward.” You told him, letting him take control for a moment and Hypnos gave an honest effort, jabbing the air before him. “Again.” You told him, pride clear in your tone. Hypnos did again, encouraged by your tone.

“One more.” You told him.

And he obeyed.

“Good.” You told him, holding on for just a moment longer. Hypnos looked up at you, beaming and still in your arms with his golden eyes big and bright. For a moment, you held his gaze, forgetting where you were. All you think was how warm he was, how he fit along you seamlessly and you swallowed. Hypnos’s smile turned nervous, his eyes darted to your mouth and you almost leaned down.

Then you heard footsteps.

You and Hypnos jerked away, Hypnos holding on the spear and you tried to gain back your composure, slightly cursing yourself for losing your head.

And maybe just a little bit, you cursed Zagreus for choosing now to show up.

~

You were pacing your room, still on edge from your fight with Hypnos hours later, when Zagreus found you. You stopped and waited for him to speak.

“Tell me. Why is Pyrrhus attacking you?” Zagreus ordered in a tone you never heard from him before. Even in the small room, he looked every part of a prince.

“I don’t know. He wants something but I can’t think of a single thing.” You said, rubbing your forehead. You haven’t been back for a day and you were already getting a headache.

Zagreus frowned, “I see.”

“Are you alright?” You asked, “I am deeply sorry that you got caught in the middle, your highness.”

“No need for apologies. Gods knows I got us in trouble with my own stuff.” He gave you a cheeky smirk. “Must I remind you of the rat again?”

You huffed out a laugh, “Damn rat.” Then you turned serious, “Will there be any punishment for him attacking you off the battlefield?”

“I have to talk to my father.” Zagreus shook his head, “Honestly I doubt it.”

“Great.” you muttered, trying to think and you desperately wished Hypnos was here right now. By the very nature of his job, he knew the loopholes and the rules in a way you nor Zagreus didn’t. And maybe even when he was furious with you, you still wanted him close. If he was still here, you could convince him, smooth his hurt and fix this whole mess.

“I told your parents.” Zagreus said offhandedly and you jerked, “What?” You said flatly.

He frowned at you like you were the crazy one. “They needed to know.”

You groaned softly. “No.”

Of course, Achilles was furious and just like you were earlier, paced your room. Patroclus was quiet but you saw the cold fury in his dark eyes.

Funny how differently they expressed it.

Zagreus only gave you a sheepish grin when you glared at him. You stood by your desk, giving your father the needed room to pace, Patroclus sat down the chair with his arms crossed.

“You weren’t going to tell us, weren’t you?” Patroclus said quietly, so you were the only one to hear it. You flinched, saying nothing. Patroclus only sighed and you felt the guilt return. First Hypnos, now Patroclus.

Achilles stopped and turned to you, “What did he say during the battle?”

You went over the battle again with Zagreus interjecting every now and then.

“He wants something.” Patroclus said, “He doesn’t normally attack like this.”

“I don’t have anything though.” You said with a shrug.

“Does it matter what he wants?” Achilles snapped, “He needs to be put down.”

Patroclus shot a look toward Achilles, and something in his face made Achilles look away. Zagreus frowned, his eyes darted between your parents before he glanced over to you.

You wordlessly shook your head, you didn’t completely understand it yourself but you did know Pyrrhus and how Achilles treated him were a sore spot in their relationship.

“So what do we do now?” You asked, trying to focus back on the problem on hand.

No one said anything and you slumped, worn out from everything. You had no clue what to do and honestly the only thing you wanted to do was go find Hypnos. You didn’t know what you would say but at least you could just see him.

Then a knock, just a single one but you felt the hesitation in it. Zagreus was closest to the door and opened it.

“Oh. Hypnos, come in.” Zagreus said, relief clear in his tone.

Once you saw him, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Hypnos blinked at the crowded room before he flashed a smile at your parents, his golden eyes very carefully not looking at you.

It hurts to look at him especially since he won’t even glance your direction but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

“Well, now it’s a party.” Hypnos jokes, his cheerful voice lightening the mood of the room just a little. There was a knot in your chest but just hearing him loosen it a bit.

Achilles chuckled, “Good to see you, Hypnos.”  Patroclus nodded, a slight smile on his face. You ignored the look your parents gave you when they noticed neither you or Hypnos would look each other in the eye.

Zagreus, obvious or least acting like he was, caught Hypnos up. Hypnos was quiet, his eyes on Zagreus until he was done talking.

“Then you are going to talk to him, correct?” Hypnos said to Zagreus.

“What good will that do?” You said, realizing it was the first time you spoke since Hypnos came in. Hypnos looked over to you, raising a white eyebrow, “Don’t you remember what he said after you both came out? He didn’t want to keep fighting, he wanted to get you fired.”

You frowned, “Yeah and?”

“He wants your title.” Hypnos said, waving a hand at you in frustration.

“Because if he beats me, he could take the spot.” You muttered, rubbing your face. Why didn’t you realize that sooner?

Achilles sighed, “Of course, this whole mess is about a title. It never happened with me but others have challenged the previous guards for the honor of the position.”

“It didn’t realize it was such a big deal.” You muttered. Honestly the job itself was pretty worthless, just watching shades running around and keeping others away from the gods’ chambers. But it was a position in the House of Hades, and that wasn’t something to take lightly.

You thought back to Theseus’ sheering face and his words, to how Pyrrhus acted when he thought he won. It all made sense now.

Zagreus nodded, “And if I tell him to back off, that should help right?”

“Maybe. I would imagine that isn’t the only reason.” Hypnos said with a grimace. “He has a pretty big ego.”

“What if I fight him again? Is there a way I can get him to lose his challenge in an official sense?” You asked Achilles.

Achilles rubbed his chin, “If he makes his challenge known, then yes.”

Patroclus spoke up, “Your highness, if you could get Pyrrhus to say that he wants the position, then that should be good enough.” Zagreus nodded, then Hypnos spoke up. “And I think, if he tries to back out afterwards, he can’t challenge Y/N for the position again. So no fighting required.”

“Or I could just fight him and get it over with.” You scoffed, “No need to have his highness do all the work.”

“Or maybe you could stop being stubborn and accept that you need help. At least with this.” Hypnos replied with a sweet tone but his eyes narrowed. And really it was unfair that he still looks good even when pissed at you.

“Or maybe you need to accept that you don’t know how to deal with someone like Pyrrhus-“ you started. And you don’t know why you were starting up the argument again because you didn’t want to but it felt something else had taken control over your mouth.

“I don’t need to do anything. I came back, something I didn't have to do by the way, after everything you said-“ Hypnos replied sharply.

Zagreus ducked his head, eyes darting between you and Hypnos. “Oh gods, this is my parents all over again.”

“Lads, calm down.” Patroclus ordered as he stood, placing a hand on your shoulder. Hypnos crossed his arms and looked toward the wall. You knew from his shaky breath, he was close to tears again. Because of you and all you could do was stand there like a fool.

A heavy silence filled the room.

“Right.” Achilles said finally after a moment, his blue eyes on you, “Zagreus, lad. You know what to do.”

“Yes, sir.” Zagreus repiled, and placed a hand on Hypnos’ arm. “Come on, Hypnos. I forgot there was something I needed help with.”

Hypnos nodded and without looking back at you, he left.

Then it was just you and your parents.  You tried to meet their eyes only to feel ashamed and you looked down.

Achilles crossed his arms, frowning, “Son, what did you do?”

“Why do you assume it’s me that's wrong?” You said.

“If you believe what you did was right, then tell us.” Patroclus said, his hand dropping from your shoulders as he moved to stand next to Achilles.

You tighten your jaw, glaring at your parents. “I am not a child.”

“We didn’t say you were.” Patroclus said. His eyes met your eyes,unimpressed by your anger.

You and Patroclus stared each down, you in anger and Patroclus cool. Until Achilles spoke up, “Y/n. Don’t. You don’t think we wouldn’t recognize that same foolish pride that cost us dearly?”

Your hands formed fists before you knew it. They never talked about it, at least not with you. It had been tucked away like an old wound and now they just bring it up like it’s nothing?

“Fine. Since you know so much better.” You snapped, “I did the right thing. I knew Pyrrhus was planning on attacking me and I told no one so I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone getting in my way because Father is right, he needs to be put down. I left behind Hypnos’ keepsake and lied when I told him I forgot, because I knew if Pyrrhus knew about him, he would try something. Hypnos isn’t a warrior and he doesn’t understand how this works.”

You took a breath, “I did the right thing. I handled Pyrrhus just fine when you were both dead and I can handle him now.”

Achilles stared at you, guilt and rage warring in his face. Patroclus just closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“I did the right thing.” You repeated, broken and desperate.

“Hurting your loved ones is the right thing?” Achilles snapped, “We thought you knew better, that you wouldn’t repeat the mistakes I made and yet it seems like right now that is the only thing you can do.”

You scoffed, “I am still dealing with your mistakes! And Pa’s and mine! I’ve been dealing with it since we all died.”

Achilles jerked like he was slapped and you took a deep shaky breath, hating yourself for saying it.

“Y/N.” Patroclus said softly, waiting for you to look at him. “You are not alone anymore. Do you understand that? We can talk about this now. And we need to.”

You swallowed, crossing your arms and reminding yourself you were not a child easily brought to tears. You looked away from them, trying to find the righteous anger from before and failing.

Then you heard a faint sob.

You stared at Achilles, you haven’t seen your father cry since the war.

“I’ve failed you again. I didn’t want to talk about this and I thought you were healing.” Achilles said, voice cracking. Patroclus only wrapped an arm around your father, but then you saw Patroclus’ eyes, and even he looked close to tears.

You shook your head, tears burning your eyes. “No. You didn’t.” You said weakly, the last bit of anger fading leaving only sadness. “I-I just didn’t want you to have to deal with everything. I thought if I could handle it, you and Pa can continue resting away from all this bullshit.”

You dropped your arms, “I would be nothing without you and Pa, I own you so much and I thought… I could do this for them. I have failed you in life and-”

“Lad, no. You have never failed us.” Achilles quietly, and he held his arms open.

Because there was still a child, hurt and tried, in you, you went to them. You buried your face in Achilles’ shoulders, and Patroclus wrapped his arms around you, his beard brushing your face. One of them placed a hand on your head, moving smoothing fingers along your scalp.

You took a deep breath, the smell of pomegranate oil and ink was so familiar you felt like you were back in the house you grew up in.

And you have cried before, when Hypnos held you while muttering comforting sounds- and gods, you would give your hands, everything you had to have him right now- but for now, you weeped in your parents’ arms.

You didn’t know how long the talk went on for after the crying, and you still felt raw from it.

When You and your parents were first reunited, none of you talked about the war or what happened to you afterward, what happened to them. It was enough just to be together. At least it was for a while.

Now everything was out in the open.

Eventually you and your parents sat down, still close. You sat on the floor, so both your parents could have the bed. Patroclus kept reaching over and fixing your hair.

“Pa, please. Pa. It's fine.” You muttered, and Achiles chuckled wetly. Patroclus just scoffed, but took back his hand for now.

“You need to set things right with Hypnos.” Achiles said quietly. "If I find out you talk to him like that again…"

“Yeah I know.” You said, not able to hide the misery you felt “I don’t know If he even wants to speak to me after this.”

“He came back. That means something.” Patroclus said, reaching over to hold Achilles’ hand, interlacing their fingers together. You nodded, not really feeling hopeful.

“But maybe get him some treats or flowers.” Achilles said, and Patroclus laughed, “Has that ever worked for you?”

Achilles paused, then leaned down with a slight grin, “I found that getting on your knees and begging for forgiveness works as well.”

“Thanks, father.” You replied dryly.

“You’re welcome, lad.” Achilles said with a laugh as he reached over and ruffled your hair.

“Oh come on!” You said batting him away as Patroclus muttered sourly, “I just fixed his hair.”

~

You stared out the window, and gave serious thought to just leaving everything and to live in the woods.

You could do it, you know how to hunt and find food. You knew how to grow most vegetables and herbs. You could easily find a cave and settle in. You also knew if you did, you would just choose to lay down and wait for animals to eat you.

You couldn’t disrespect your parents’ memory like that so you made yourself eat breakfast, almost gagging from forcing yourself to eat, and went down to the boats.

You worked from the sunrise to near sunset and returned to your house, numb to everything.

You should eat dinner but you already used everything you had in you not to walk to the woods so you just laid in bed.

You didn’t dream when you slept, not usually. Because of this, sleep have became your only escape from everything. You laid under the blankets and waited, with your eyes closed.

You were so tired.

~

You hated waiting for news. Zagreus had yet to return and you swear if Pyrrhus laid a finger on Zagreus- you shook your head, Zagreus could handle himself.

And honestly worried as you were for him, and about whatever Pyrrhus had planned, there was someone else who occupied your thoughts more.

Hypnos.

It had been about a full day or night or whatever time it was in the house. You weren't sure when you should try to talk to him and honestly you were putting it off because you felt clueless about what to say.

You knew not to expect forgiveness, you wouldn’t forgive yourself after everything you say so why would Hypnos?

You tried to find him in his usual spots. In the welcome area, there were no Hypnos, sassing to the new shades that were giving him a hard time. So you tried the lounge, just in case Hypnos had decided to comfort himself with whatever raw honey the cook would give him, but it was just as empty.

“Are you looking for my child?” A woman's voice from behind you asked softly. You froze for a moment before taking a breath and turning around to Lady Nyx, a powerful goddess but most importantly, Hypnos’ mother.

She stared down at you, her face blank but her golden eyes burned into your face.

You realized dimly that you should bow but something deep in you told you she would respect you less for it. So you didn’t, and meet her eyes.

“Yes, lady Nyx, I’m looking for Hypnos.” You replied, keeping your voice calm and respectful.

She studied your face, saying nothing for a long time. Then soft as a night breeze, she spoke. “I have heard of the great love between your parents. It is interesting how mortals love, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my lady.” You said, “But few could match those of my parents.”

She gave nothing away, only staring at you. You tried not to squirm under her stare. “Hypnos doesn’t love like others do.” Nyx said, “For a god, his love is closer to a mortal. Bright and loud and almost uncomfortable. Much like someone else I know.” She said, and for a moment, she looked past you, seeing someone else then her eyes sharpen.

“You would do well to remember that, son of Achilles and Patroclus.” She whispered.

“Yes, lady Nyx.” You whispered back.

She nodded, and turned away. “I believe you know where he is.”

Then she vanished.

You stood still for a moment, then you let out a breath. You placed a hand on your chest, you could have swore for a moment you felt your heart race. You remembered hearing even Zeus himself feared the goddess Nyx and he was perfectly right to do so.

But she didn’t immediately toss you into Tartarus. so that was something.

With a nod to yourself, you went to the only other place you knew.

You found yourself in front of his bedchambers, hand hovering over the door.

You wondered if you even had the right to seek him out. What if he opens the door, only immediately slam the door in your face. What if it was too late to fix it?

You took a deep breath, reminded yourself your parents didn’t raise you to be a coward and knocked on the door.

For a few minutes, there was nothing and you wondered if you had it wrong. Then the door cracked open, but it wasn’t Hypnos’ lovely face that greeted you but Thanatos’ furious one.

You and him stared at each other for a moment before Thanatos hissed, “I should gut you like a fish.”

You just nodded, “Yes.”

Thanatos’ mouth tightened, “I should have listened to my first intuition, but I let myself be fooled that maybe you might have been able to take care of my little brother. Leave and don’t come back, mortal.”

He went to close the door but you blocked your foot with a grunt of pain, “I will leave if that is what Hypnos wants. But he needs to tell me himself.”

Thanatos chuckled harshly “You really think you have the right to even look at him now?”

“No. I don’t but I need to hear it from him.” You said, praying that this isn’t how it ends, with not even getting to see him.

“Thanatos, enough.” Hypnos said, unseen. “Let him in.”

Thanatos turned his head, still holding the door on your foot. “Are you sure? I can send him away easily. Just say the word.”

“Let him in.” Hypnos said quietly.

Thanatos glared at you, “Be glad it was me who greeted you and not Charon.”

Then he opened the door, letting you step in.

You saw the fireplace lit up, it was rarely used but it was now. Lighting up the room in a warm light, and it made the constellation in Hypnos' bed canopy sparkle.

Then you saw him on one of the chaise close by the fire, staring into the fire. Thanatos shot you a dirty look as he approached his twin, you stayed back even if you wanted to go over to Hypnos.

Thanatos whispered something to Hypnos, something only between brothers. Hypnos whispered something back, making Thanatos’ mouth twisted but he nodded.

He returned to you, eyes narrowed. “If you ever do something like this again, I personally sent you down the river Styx myself, over and over forever. Clear?”

You nodded, you would help Thanatos yourself if ever came to that again. “Crystal clear.”

He only shook his head, “I will never understand why he picked you.”

Then with one last look toward Hypnos, he vanished.

Then it was just you and Hypnos in the room.

You swallowed and walked over to him but stopped short of the chaise. There was an empty bottle of nectar on the table in front of him and a mess of scrolls and ink pots.

Even when he wouldn’t look at you, he was beautiful. His cloak was gone, bearing his arms and shoulders. You suddenly wished you could paint, that you had enough talent that could capture how he looked but you only framed the image in your memory. You were painfully aware that this might be the last time you will ever see Hypnos like this.

“The firelight suits you.” You told him quietly.

Hypnos looked up at you, his big, golden eyes were bloodshot and he only scoffed at you.  “Don’t try to sweet talk me. Why are you here?”

“Why do you think?” You replied. You walked around the chaise to stand in front of Hypnos, then you got on your knees. You could feel the heat of flames on your back but that was nothing to the hurt you saw in his eyes.

Hypnos stared at you, “Does it matter what I think since you said it yourself I couldn’t help you?”

You flinched at the words but you wouldn’t hide from them, facing them was the only way to set it right.

“I was wrong to say that, my love.” You said, wishing you could reach out and touch him. Your fingers curled uselessly.

Hypnos only shrugged, looking down at his hands. So you kept talking.

“I’m a fool, I thought I was keeping you safe but in the end I only hurt you.” You said, watching his face.

Then with a deep breath, you talked. “I've gotten used to being helpless. I was a child fighting for the amusement of adults, both my pa and my father died and I couldn’t do anything about it. Then I was helpless against Pyrrhus and the amount of power he wielded and then there was Ares.”

You swallowed, you felt a hunted animal but you were the one peeling away at the layers of skin and tissues but Hypnos was worth every moment of pain. “Even when I died, I was still helpless against the call of the past. I couldn’t find a moment of peace even in the beauty that Elysium offered.”

Hypnos’ hands curled against his legs, and with a moment of doubt, you reached out and covered one of his hands with yours. He didn’t return the hand squeeze nor did he pull away.

“I felt peace with you. Every time you looked at me, every time you spoke, every smile you offered me -gods, I miss your smile- but especially when I got to hold you in my arms.” You offered a smile, crooked and small.

Hypnos closed his eyes with a shiff, but you kept talking. It was the only thing you could do now.

“My parents and I talked. About a lot of things we all have been putting off. Another debt I owe you because without you I don't think I would have been able to. ” You said, rubbing your thumb on his hand. Hypnos nodded but stayed quiet.

“I should have never said those words to you, when I would be lost without you. I got comfortable and arrogant.” You said. You almost had said Pyrrhus bring out the worst in people but shoved it away, this was about your own sins, not his.

“My parents were happy and whole since the first time before the war, I had some level of control over my own mind but most importantly I had you. And you are everything, I can’t express that enough. You could tell me right now you are the only real thing in the universe and I would believe you no matter what anyone had to say.”

Hypnos laughed brokenly, “You are a fool.”

“Oh good, we are in agreement.” You said, smiling. You tugged at his hand and he let you move it. When you pulled it close enough, you pressed a kiss on his knuckles.

You met his golden eyes, and you loved him so in that moment, you could have died right then and there if he so wished.

“You really hurt me.” Hypnos whispered and you nodded, guilt twisting it's way up in your chest. “I know, love. I’m sorry. And even I can hear how much of a pitiful apology that is.”

“What if I made you swear on river Styx never to lie to me again?” Hypnos asked softly.

“In a heartbeat, a thousand time over.” You told him, not looking away.

Hypnos reached over and cupped your cheek, “And if I asked you to lay down your weapons and never fight again?”

You took a sharp breath but let it out, “A thousand times over, my love. Whatever you ask, I will give it to you. You want the world, it's yours. The underworld, it’s yours. My strength, my soul -even ruined as it is- it is yours.”

Hypnos leaned down and kissed you. You lean into the gentle kiss, still not trying to get your hopes up.

“You really are a fool.” Hypnos whispered when the kiss broke, pressing his forehead against yours. “Not even you can give me all of that.”

“Just ask me. And I will, my love.” You whispered, holding his gaze.

“You are a very lucky man that I only want you.” Hypnos said, tried and quiet.

“I am.” You said just as quietly, your chest tight.

Hypnos kissed you again, a slow kiss, one that tried to say what words couldn’t.

Then he pulled away and gods, he was so lovely to you, there was no point to art if Hypnos wasn’t in it.

"I don't know if I am ready to forgive you." Hypnos sighed and you nodded if it felt like a stab to your chest.

"I will wait for as long as needed." You said.

Hypnos gave a smile, small but real and you savored the sight of it. He tugged at your tunic, "Come here, I want to be held."

You obeyed, somehow you and him were able to tangle together on the chaise, with him tucked under your chin. You closed your eyes, since the first time coming out of the river, you felt like you could breathe again.

"I'm sorry too." Hypnos muttered into your neck. You frowned,"What are you sorry for?"

"I was too caught up with my own hurt feelings. I didn't want to fight with you, I just…" he stopped, taking a shaky breath. "It scares me. Really scares me. You getting hurt like that. You needed me and I couldn't be there."

"I shouldn't have talked to you like that though, not ever, and definitely shouldn't have lied." You replied, pushing your fingers through his curls. His little wing fluttered against your hand slowly.

Hypnos tightened his arms around you, "I'm still apologizing and you said I can have whatever I want so there. And you have to accept my apology."

You chuckled warmly, how lucky you were to know such an odd and wonderful creature. "Apologies accepted."

Hypnos nuzzled against you with a sigh.

"We might have re-traumatized Zagreus." You muttered after a moment.

Hypnos stilled then he laughed, clear and bright and you grinned like an idiot. Hypnos curled more into you, and you could feel his smile against your skin.

"I can't believe he said that." Hypnos said with a giggle. You pressed a kiss against his curls, unable to help yourself.

Then he shifted in your arms. "Your parents are probably upset with me." Hypnos said but you shushed him.

"They were upset with me." You said firmly, "I'm lucky they didn't smack me across the head for speaking to you like that."

"Okay." Hypnos said doubtfully but he didn't push it.

A comfortable silence took over and before you knew it. Hypnos was asleep in your arms. You pressed a kiss against his head, smiling at the wing that brushed against your cheek.

There was still Pyrrhus to deal with and you still had to work your way back in Hypnos' graces but for now, you could just hold Hypnos in your arms.

For now, you could be at peace.

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

-Being The Duke’s Assistant- (3)

(a/n: some people really like this fic lol so here’s another chapter for y’all! also if you want a chapter 4 then please comment and reblog! otherwise I won’t have the motivation to keep writing more! thank you! <3)

–

-Learning About The Lords-

–

You’d seen more of your ex-neighbors since your run in with Vasile Kazloŭ the week previous. Seems word got around the village that you’d not in fact frozen to death or been caught and dragged into the woods by some snarling beast. And you knew a good few of them were just stopping by the Duke’s carriage under the guise of shopping just to see if those rumors were true. Not that you particularly cared what your ex-neighbors did now. If seeing you for whatever reason got them to buy something from the Duke then no skin off your nose. 

But today was different. Today the Duke said he’d be educating you on his biggest trade deals. Such deals being the Four Lords of the village. You’ll admit you gulped at hearing that. The four lords were quite notorious to the people of the village. And not for anything good despite what the fanatics would like to think..

Lady Dimitrescu, the mysterious lady who ruled the imposing castle upon the mountain that takes young women in to work but never lets them leave again. There’s a saying in the village that if a girl you know is going to work at Castle Dimitrescu then you should shower her in kisses since you’ll never see her again.

Lady Beneviento, the mysterious veiled doll maker who lives in a shadowy haunted manor that makes all those who enter there see their deceased family members. Seeing visions of the dead drives all who enter there to insanity. Most never leave, but the few who do are never the same as they were upon entering.

Lord Moreau, the monstrous looking recluse who controls the giant killer fish that has swallowed whole more than its fair share of poor fishermen of the village. It terrorized the workers at the Reservoir, devouring men like fish until they’d had enough and abandoned the site. It now sits in decay, waiting for the next fool to wander in.

Lord Heisenberg, the lord who owns the cryptic factory on the very edge of the village, where all the dead villagers bodies are sent and never seen again. Rumor has it that it used to be a coal mine but nobody living from the village has set foot in the rusted structure in decades. But despite this the factory’s smokestacks constantly billow dark soot into the sky.

Every villager knew of the four Lords. 

But apparently you were going to be learning more detail on them. Which you admit to not having much of. All you knew is what most every other villager knew. To be wary, be respectful, to pay your tributes, and do not draw attention to yourself otherwise. Those that drew attention were quite often known to draw their last breath.

The Duke it seemed was on good terms with each of the lords, at least you assumed so since he talked about them quite candidly. Not whispering their names in a hushed tone or with any amount of fearful reverence. Actually he talked about them as if they were just fellow business partners he has evening tea with. Which... well as far as you knew, could very well be the truth. But despite the Duke’s blasé outlook you felt yourself tense up when he mentioned how, as his assistant, you would be accompanying him on his future meetings with them, so it was best he told you about them now so you didn’t go in blind. Part of you wanted to just avoid that by not even going into the same building as the four lords. But the Duke squashed that thought by saying he couldn’t very well leave you to sit and twiddle your thumbs in the carriage while he was inside. 

Which you supposed you should have seen coming. You were his assistant after all. Where he goes, you go. It’s your whole job. So you steeled your resolve and took solace in knowing that while under the Duke’s protection you would be fine. you weren’t some random villager now thankfully. But even still... seeing the towering Castle Dimitrescu looming in the distance made you queasy. Your mind swam with the stories you’d been told as a child, warning you of what laid in that castle. The carriage drew closer to the imposing structure but you remained straight faced, not wanting to reveal how anxious you were. Plus, if you were being honest? This was all pretty exciting in a way! You’d left the village years ago sure, met lots of new people while you studied abroad. You learned about all the goings on of the world outside your simple village. But all of that paled in comparison to getting to meet the Four Lords.

You hoped you didn’t embarrass yourself..

-0-

While you got closer to the castle the Duke told you about the first Lord, Lady Dimitrescu and House Dimitrescu. Apparently they were famous for their incredible wine. The Duke even admitted to having a bottle of it himself stored away in the back. “For special occasions,” he told you with a smile. You also learned that House Dimitrescu also had their own vineyard where they grew all the grapes that went into the wine they made. He also revealed that there was a ‘rumor’ that Lady Dimitrescu had a very special bottle of wine in her possession, one that has belonged to her family for generations, that was called Sanguis Virginis. And its literal translation is "maiden's blood". The Duke was a touch vague on the wine, but he said that Alcina Dimitrescu has a secret process that enriches the wine’s flavor and gives it a thick bouquet. 

After that he began talking about the second Lord, Lady Beneviento and House Beneviento. The Duke spoke with a sad tone here, saying the Beneviento family slowly fell apart a long time ago. One by one the family members disappeared. And the current head of the household, Donna Beneviento, had a sister when she was a child, Claudia. But Claudia grew ill and passed away, causing her parents to grow depressed and soon after take their own lives, leaving poor Donna alone. The Duke knows Donna to be very kind, but also very lonely. She’s an incredibly skilled doll maker, even better than her father had been when he was alive. But she has trouble speaking with people without the aid of the doll friend, Angie, that her father gifted her as a little girl. He warned you that Angie could be a bit of a troublemaker, chuckling as he did.

Then came the third Lord, Salvatore Moreau of House Moreau. You raised an eyebrow when you noticed the small hint of revulsion in the Duke’s voice as he spoke about this lord. It seems that Moreau was... an odd one. The Duke tried to speak kindly of the man but even he, with his usual jovial outlook, couldn’t hide the slight way he cringed as he explained Moreau’s history. It seemed he had been a sailor at some point, and the very last of his family line, but some years ago he’d... changed physically to the point where he avoided people. He hid himself at the Reservoir his family owned and scarcely stepped foot outside of it. And after one too many... accidents there the workers abandoned the place, leaving Moreau alone to wallow in his self pity. The Duke warned you that Moreau did not look... human. And he asked you to please not stare at the man. He wouldn’t appreciate it, surely.

And then the final Lord, Karl Heisenberg of House Heisenberg. The Duke warned you that despite Lord Heisenberg’s rather casual sounding attitude, the man was quite harsh. And his factory was incredibly dangerous. He warned you to never stray from his side while there, for your own safety. You gulped but nodded as he continued. It seems the Heisenberg factory was a coal mining factory. You discovered that the Lord was an engineer, but the Duke revealed that he’d been known to tinker with things other than machines as well. That ominous note made your stomach drop. But you felt your anxiety lift a bit when the Duke told you that he was Lord Heisenberg’s supplier for a certain machine part he needs in bulk, so the man knew not to upset him. So you would be fine.

“But I think we’ll have to cut our conversation short, it seems we’ve arrived at Castle Dimitrescu,” the Duke said in a cheery tone you weren’t matching.

‘For any god listening to me... let us be alright,’ you thought helplessly.

-0-

[nellasbookplanet]

The first part of the magnus archives au is not yet done (what has been written so far can be read here, if you want some semi-evil shadowgast and soul bonds), but I have already begun cobbling together part two, which will focus on Fjord, Jester, and Caduceus.

This is part of the first chapter, and takes place some years before All in a Day’s Work, featuring Fjord encountering a pretty blue woman who is, unbeknownst to him, an avatar of the Spiral.

The first time Fjord saw her, he had no idea what she was.

He was on shore leave at time, walking the streets of Nicodranas with no clear goal as he silently counted down the minutes until he could return to the Tide’s Breath. Part of him wished he’d never left. The docks weren’t the same as the open sea—not enough movement, not enough space, and far too many people—but it was still preferable to the bustling city. He could feel eyes on him as he wandered, looking at him as if they knew him only to frown when he didn’t fully fit the picture.

Not that he didn’t catch more than his fair share of shit out at sea. Sabian was there, for one, always ready with a snide barb or reminder of what Fjord lacked. But with the wide-open horizon all around, what Sabian said didn’t seem to matter as much. The captain didn’t care who or what Fjord was as long as he did his part of the work without complaint, and the ocean, well.

The waves and the tides did not care one way or another.

But there he was, steady ground underfoot, the ocean close enough to smell in the salty wind but too far to hear or see between the buildings. Vandran had told them to go have fun for the night, and Fjord didn’t have it in him to disobey even an indirect order from his captain. Besides, he was in his full right to be here. Most people didn’t even really care, he told himself. It was a coastal town, after all. Lots of travelers from all over. He was far from the only half-orc.

Still, he was uneasy. The rest of the crew was at a pub, but with Sabian happily and drunkenly holding court, Fjord had figured he’d be better off on his own. Get some fresh air, maybe even meet some people who weren’t sailors. Wouldn’t Vandran be proud.

He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in what was clearly the oldest—and nicest—part of town. The streets were cobbled rather than paved, and instead of the blockish, modern buildings of most of the town, big, lavish villas and storefronts showcasing wildly expensive wares surrounded him. There was brickwork, arched windows and doorways, domed towers and sharp spires lined with wide balconies and finely carved balustrades. If it weren’t for the occasional car and moped passing by, he’d have felt as if he’d walked into another time.

The passersby were different, too. No more dockworkers and fishermen but rather nicely dressed men and women, too high society and polite to do more than glance and whisper at his rough exterior. Trying not to attract attention, he ended up following the flow, and didn’t stop until he realized most of them were headed into a huge hotel at the end of the street.

Music flowed out the open doors. A minotaur stood at the top of the stairs and welcomed people inside, likely also serving as a warning to potential troublemakers.

Fjord stepped back, moved to the side of the street to be out of the way. Tilted his head back to take the place in. It was, in a word, fancy.

And there was a woman.

Fjord blinked when he spotted her. She was leaning out of the wall a few floors up, wild blue hair sticking to her face and streaming in the wind as she surveyed the crowds below. It was a wonder he’d spotted her, really; the opening was hidden in a niche, all but disappearing between balconies and lavishly decorated window frames. Actually, the more he looked, Fjord felt sure there shouldn’t be a window where she was leaning. The placement was all wrong. If anything, it looked like she’d opened a door in the middle of a fourth-story wall, like something out those cartoons were they’ll draw a door on a surface and it’ll become real just like that.

She was sitting with her back to the doorframe, one leg dangling out the side of the building, dress hiked up to her blue knee. The other was folded in front of her, letting her prop something up against it and scribble at it with great concentration. Every now and then, she’d turn to look down at the street, before turning back to her work.

She’d done so maybe three or four times when she spotted him.

He froze under her gaze, feet anchored to the cobbled street. She smiled, so wide and white that it was unmistakable even high up as she was. Then she raised a hand and waved.

Heat rose in Fjords face. His hand waved back almost as if on its own accord, only for him to realize that fuck, stupid, she probably wasn’t even waving at him, now he looked like an idiot.

She was still smiling when he unstuck his feet and hurried away.

*

“It’s really nice here, don’t you think?”

An undignified squeak escaped Fjord at the sudden voice. He turned on the bench he’d been sitting on, frantically looking around, but didn’t find the source until he looked up.

The bench was placed by a wall, low enough that he could’ve seen over it if he was standing, high enough to grant him a sense of privacy in the otherwise well populated city park. At least, it had until now, because atop it sat the woman from the hotel, feet kicking off the side as she smiled down at him.

“Uh, yes.” He cleared his throat. “It sure is. Lots of… flowers.”

She grinned, and before he had the chance to embarrass himself further she placed both hands on the edge of the wall and pushed herself down, landing easily on the grass. Righting herself, she plopped down next to him on the bench and stuck out a hand.

“Hi, I’m Jester.”

Fjord, who had his hands full with a paper plate with fish and chips he’d bought to keep himself occupied, shuffled things around until it rested securely in his lap. He wiped his hand on his pants before accepting her handshake. Despite the soft look of them, her fingers felt oddly sharp, and pricked against his skin. Some kind of expensive manicure, probably.

“Fjord,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Very nice.”

She let him go and retracted her hand, but not without stealing one of his chips.

“I saw you at the Chateau earlier, right?” she asked, stuffing it into her mouth. She lit up. “Oh, this is really good! Where’d you get it?”

“There’s, um, a kiosk? At the edge of the park?”

“Right, right.” She nodded, then stole another chip. Fjord thought that maybe living by the coast made some people act a little like seagulls when it came to the property of others. He didn’t move the food out of her reach. “But it was you at the Chateau, right?” she said, chewing happily. “Just before the show?”

“If you mean that big, fancy place, then yes. And you were, ah, sitting in a window?” he hazarded, thinking it must’ve been a window. “What were you doing up there? It looked kind of dangerous.”

She snorted. “Dangerous-schmangerous. I was just drawing people. And you left before I got to draw you. Oh!”

Wiping her hands on the bench, she went to dig through a satchel that rested snugly against her hip and came out with a sketchpad. Unlike her pristine clothes and bag, the sketchpad looked worn, but in the way old paperbacks sometimes do, well-loved and thumbed through innumerable times. There were pictures drawn on the cover, spiraling and winding that made Fjord’s head hurt when he tried to follow them.

“Is it okay if I draw you here?” Jester asked. “I promise to make it really flattering.”

Fjord wanted to say no. He’s uncomfortable enough as it was with being seen; the thought of having this stranger scrutinize him for however long it took to finish a portrait made his skin crawl. But she’s batting her eyelashes and pouting at him, and he found himself smiling weakly and saying, “Why not.”

She lit up with something that could only be genuine happiness, and immediately opened the sketchpad to a blank page. Well, almost blank. There were a couple of doodles in one corner; dicks and lollipops and what looked like hamsters with horns. Fjord tilted his head, trying to make sense of it. Despite the silliness, there was distinct skill to them.

“Ah-ah.” She pushed at his cheek with a finger, turning his face away. “No peeking.”

He almost obeyed. That is, he didn’t look at the portrait—didn’t want to, in either way; the very idea made him feel weird and itchy—but he snuck a glance or two at her.

She looked different when she was drawing. Enhanced yet private. There was still a smile on her lips, but something about it seemed less performative than before; slightly crocked, lips moving on their own as if mouthing words or imitating whatever expression she was sketching. Movements still wide, but less as if she was making them to be seen, to make herself everyone’s problem, and more like she simply couldn’t contain them even when hyper focused on pen and paper.

Tiny bells and charms hung from her small, curved horns. Every time she turned her head, as if trying to view the picture from another perspective, they jingled softly.

She knew she was visible, Fjord had thought, watching those bells. Knew there was no way for her not to be seen. And rather than cower and please, she made herself big, unmissable. He wondered what it was like. Being that brave, yet still so hidden in a larger, grander version of yourself. He imagined it was lonely.

“You aren’t from around here, are you?” she asked after a few minutes of silent work.

“How do you tell?”

She drew a long, sharp line, and Fjord very nearly went to look before catching himself. “Your clothes,” she said, absentmindedly lifting the pen to chew at the end of it as she studied her work. “And your hair.”

Fjord self-consciously lifted a hand to pat his salt-stiff hair, but stopped when she made a noise of distress.

“Don’t move! I’m not finished yet.”

He dropped his hand, trying not to squirm. “What is it with my clothes and hair?” He tried a laugh. “Not fashionable enough?”

“Nah, it’s not that. I mean, they aren’t, but that’s kind of good? What I mean is, you look practical. Travel worn. Not like someone who’s just walking home from the office, or even someone who’s traveled here on business. You look like your business is the travel.”

Eerily spot on. Then again, she probably saw a lot of sailors, and they tended to sport a similar style.

“I’m guessing you are from around here?” he said.

“Yeah.” She paused, looked up to consider him long enough to make his cheeks flush before turning back to the sketch. Though she laughed, there’s a tinge of sadness, or perhaps longing, to it. “That easy to tell, huh?”

He thought back to how she’d hung out that hidden window, safe and comfortable as if she did so every day. “You just seem to know the place real well,” he settled on.

“Oh, I do! If you climb the highest tower of the Chateau, you can see practically all of Nicodranas. Even the ocean, and the ships coming and going.”

“I watched the ocean for a long time too, back when I lived in Port Damali,” Fjord said wistfully. “Went out there first chance I got. Kind of awkward being back on land. Haven’t found my land legs yet.”

“It is very pretty,” she conceded. “All sparkly when the sun hits it right. But it looks empty.”

“That’s part of the appeal.”

“Yeah?” She looked up, grinning, and waggled her fingers at him. “Don’t like people? Even if they are really pretty and super cool?” Horrifyingly, she did a wink and a fully body wiggle, thankfully contained by her, very nice, dress.

“I like people,” he said, not knowing how else to respond to her growing grin and thus opting to pretend he hadn’t noticed (though his blush revealed otherwise). Her teeth were sharp and pointed, even for a tiefling, and made it look less like she was smiling and more like she was about to bite him.

“But the ocean is better,” she teased.

“The ocean has… certain qualities people lack.”

“Uh-huh.” Still grinning, she turned back to her picture. “What if you could go somewhere where there was no annoying people? Just like, a really cool place where they could never find you, and you could stay forever?”

He snorted. “What, like a deserted island?”

“Maybe. Or like, the coolest house, with too many doors and corridors for anyone to get in or out.”

It sounded, frankly, terrifying, and should’ve given him a hint.

“It sounds lonely,” he said. “Even a ship has other people, and every port has new faces, too. Sometimes I’ll even meet one I like.”

He smiled at her, and though she smiled back it looked a little like a grimace.

“People always come here and then leave,” she complained. “I just want to put them someplace where they can’t leave, so I can come by and hang out for as long as I want.”

“And when you don’t want to hang out anymore?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She grinned, widely and slowly, until Fjord felt like he was no longer looking at a person but a concept, sharp and stretched and dangerous. “I guess they can have that part of the cool house to themselves for forever.”

“I would go mad,” he admits.

“I mean, most people do.”

Ominous. “I just don’t think I could stand being trapped like that.” He glanced at her, trying to be subtle. “Would you?”

The pen stilled on the paper. She didn’t look at him. For a moment, she wasn’t even smiling. “Sometimes there isn’t a choice,” she said softly. “Either you make someone else go mad, or you go mad yourself.”

“There’s always a choice, even if it’s a hard one. You could just leave.”

She blinked three times in rapid succession. Then the smile came back, genuinely amused. “Fjord, are you trying to therapize me?”

“I don’t think that’s a word.”

“That’s so sweet. Hey, you know what.” She snapped the sketchpad closed and skipped to her feet. “I don’t think you’d like my cool house very much, so I’m not taking you there. But I’ve loved talking with you, so I’m going to leave you a door. You know, in case you ever change your mind and feel like going a little mad.”

She winked at him.

And then she opened a door in the stone wall and ducked through it.

*

Of course, there wasn’t actually a door in the wall. When Fjord eventually calmed enough to go look closer, there was just a drawing of one, painted right on the stone bricks. That was weird enough, seeing as he could’ve sworn the wall was perfectly clean before.

Not thinking, he touched it.

It was just stone. Cool from the shade under the trees, uneven and rough. Nothing liked the painted and cracked wood of the image. He imagined that one would’ve given him splinters.

He decided the thing must’ve been there all along, and that he wasn’t disappointed at all the handle was flat and two-dimensional when he tried to grab it. He wasn’t the most attentive of people; probably he just hadn’t seen it. And obviously Jester hadn’t walked through it. That was ridiculous. She must’ve just… jumped the wall. Yes. Made perfect sense.

He finished his fish and chips, and then he went back to the Tide’s Breath.

[contreparry]

happy friday Ann!! how about 🍵Spilling tea (by accident or on purpose/literal or metaphorical - or both!), from the tea party prompts?

I feel like I must write more of Henrietta from my random Henrietta stories (seen here, with an ongoing fic here). The idea grabbed hold of me and I wasn’t able to stop. For @dadrunkwriting

Henrietta’s great-grandmother swept into the ancestral home like a summer storm- loud, fierce, and overwhelming.

Great Grandmothers were a serious business, but Lady Adelaide Trevelyan was clearly something else. She never visited Ostwick while Henrietta was alive, always preferring that everyone come to call on her at her townhouse in Val Royeux, so something was afoot. Henrietta saw it in the way everyone, from the servants to the steward to her own family, bustled about the place with a frantic, restless energy.

Grandfather and Grandmother prepared for her arrival with the same grim determination of the fishermen and sailors on Ostwick’s docks. Grandmother had the finest guest bedroom prepared with crisp white linen edges with lace and prepared every menu with the cook. Mother helped organize servants and purchase certain delicacies for the table: fresh fish from the sea, oysters harvested that very morning, port from Antiva, whiskey from Starkhaven, tea from Rivain, even a pineapple from the hothouse! 

Grandfather, on the other hand, went over the account books with Father, She might be retired, Father said darkly to Mother, but Grandmother won’t relinquish control until she’s dead and her ashes are bottled up. And maybe not even then. Mother only sighed and murmured for Father to mind his manners at supper, for there were delicate ears present. Henrietta wanted to reply that she heard stable master Tom curse a blue streak just this morning, but she held her tongue. If Mother knew that she might not get to go to the stables again after her lessons, and Tom would certainly be scolded. 

Whatever the case, everyone was busy and Henrietta was rather bored. There wasn’t a lot for a girl of twelve springs to do when she had no tasks to take care of and couldn’t call on an escort into town. Not that Mother would let her go into town- maybe when you’re older, she would say, and that was the end of that conversation. So Henrietta took to wandering the manor, poking her nose into every nook and cranny in search of something interesting, something hitherto unseen that might provide some form of entertainment.

She was wandering the portrait gallery when she found it. Henrietta peered at the collection of family miniatures arranged in the curio cabinet. There was Father as a boy, his scowl familiar in that baby face. And there was Mother’s miniature she sent when their families first started with marriage talks, her dressed in blue with white silk roses in her hair. There were her uncles, all arranged by age as she went down the line. It was all familiar territory, until her gaze fell upon an otherwise unremarkable little watercolor of a little girl.

Her dark hair (umbar brown, nearly black in the pale morning light) was restrained by a thick pink satin ribbon, and her white dress had matching pink trim and a waistband. Her round face and chubby cheeks indicated that the girl was young (four, perhaps five), but there was no mistaking her sandy brown skin or those thick brows furrowed into a fierce pout. This baby, the last portrait in the lengthy line of her uncles, was a Trevelyan.

But who was she? Henrietta peered closer until her nose was nearly squashed against the glass. Deep set dark eyes with heavy lids, just like Grandfather’s. Perhaps a... Henrietta shook her head and dismissed the thought immediately. Grandfather would never! And if he had, no one would set out a portrait of a bastard child among the legitimate. No, there was something else to this mystery, something that she was missing. Henrietta frowned and stepped away from the cabinet.

“Maybe you’re somewhere on the family registry,” she informed the miniature. “Someone cared enough to have your portrait painted. Maybe-”

“Henrietta? Henrietta, darling, your Great-Grandmother’s carriage just arrived!” Mother called from down the hall, probably from the music room. Henrietta scrambled away, but she glanced over her shoulder at the cabinet.

“Later,” she promised. She’d find answers later. She ought to have known she couldn’t hold her tongue in the face of such a great mystery.

“You have certainly grown since I saw you last, Henrietta,” Great Grandmother asked. She was a short woman, her steel grey hair piled upon her head like a cloud, and was dressed in a severe, elegant maroon dress with black lace, and a garnet and diamond brooch at her throat. Even the way she spoke was crisp and elegant. Great Grandmother was so commanding that it felt more like she was hosting this little afternoon tea. Grandmother was unable to attend, but Henrietta sat next to her mother on the settee across from Great Grandmother Adelaide to enjoy the spread of dainty cakes and sandwiches and scones and jam. Even the teapot and cups were the best in the household, the porcelain so thin you could see the sun through it, like an eggshell.

“Thank you, Lady Adelaide,” Henrietta recited, and when Mother raised one eyebrow she hastily added, “Would you like sugar in your tea?”

“No, the milk will do,” Great Grandmother said. “Now, Emily, I am to understand that Henrietta is not to attend school?”

“We’ve judged it too soon for that, ma’am. Perhaps in a year or two, we will consider it,” Mother said. “Perhaps by then we can convince Henrietta to take interest in other subjects than horses.” It was a gentle joke, one that Mother made often, but Henrietta blushed at the remark. She had made an effort to dress up for tea, after all, and she hadn’t spent the day in the stables, but instead-

“Ah, a Trevelyan through and through,” Great Grandmother sighed. “But such is the way of Trevelyan children. I’m afraid they all run wild when they are young.”

“Like the girl in the miniature cabinet?” Henrietta blurted out. A silence fell across the tea table, and Henrietta wanted to kick herself. She hadn’t even lasted an afternoon before she spilled out her secret! Mother stared at her as if she had grown another head, but Great Grandmother...

“Ah. I didn’t realize that Evelyn’s portrait was back in the case,” Great Grandmother said, her voice measured and strong. “It’s been a long time.”

“I had it put up. It felt... appropriate,” Mother said. She sounded normal, but Henrietta noticed the way her teacup shook slightly in her hands, as if she was nervous. Her mother, nervous? It couldn’t be.

“It’s certainly a statement,” Great Grandmother agreed. “Perhaps we should send an artist to Haven. For documentation purposes, of course. Historical legacies and all.” She seemed to think that was a fine joke, and chuckled into her tea cup as Mother breathed out a soft sigh of relief. Henrietta’s mind swam with these new little bits of information. The little girl had a name. Evelyn. And somehow her portrait being added to the family cabinet was now appropriate when before it wasn’t, and Lady Adelaide Trevelyan made a joke about sending an artist to Haven, a joke that was connected to Evelyn somehow. Haven... Haven... wasn’t that where the Grand Cleric went, that little town next to the Temple of Andraste that blew up? And now- The Inquisition! What did that little girl with the grim expression and dainty white dress and pink ribbons have to do with the Inquisition?!

Very mysterious indeed! “Pardon, Gr- Lady Adelaide,” Henrietta asked, hungry for answers. “But who is she? Evelyn, I mean.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t know?” Great Grandmother blinked, her icy blue eyes as wide as an owl’s. “You haven’t the slightest inkling?”

Henrietta shook her head. Great Grandmother shook her head, muttered something under her breath that would have put stable master Tom to shame, then set her mouth into a grim, wrinkled line.

“Evelyn Trevelyan is my granddaughter and your aunt,” she said firmly. “Poor dear’s gotten herself tangled up with that mess in Haven, I’m afraid. Haven’t seen her in years, ever since that business in Kirkwall shook up the Chantry to its foundations. Locked all those Mages up in their Circles and threw away the key! Couldn’t even bribe those Templars to get in to see her.” She sounded annoyed by that, though Henrietta couldn’t tell if it was the fact that she stooped to bribery or that her bribe was rejected that insulted her grandmother more.

“I’ve been trying to meet her for years,” Mother confessed, “but it was no use. Blood relations only, I was told.” Henrietta wondered if this is what her grandmother meant whenever she said she felt faint. It was as if some great wind swept through the parlor, upsetting everything in one powerful gust, and now she was sitting in the aftermath of the destruction. An aunt. That little girl was her aunt! And her mother tried to visit her, her great grandmother who never came to Ostwick apparently made secret journeys to see mysterious Aunt Evelyn, and yet she wasn’t allowed to now because.... because...

“An aunt? I have an aunt? In a Circle?” Henrietta interrupted. “That-”

“Yes yes, a Mage. Terrible business, we were going to have her marry that Starkhaven boy, they were of an age- but perhaps it was a good thing after all, considering how they ended up...” As her great grandmother talked about marriages and ruined plans and old history, Henrietta mused over mysteries solved and new ones uncovered. The girl in the miniature had a name. She wasn’t a girl anymore, but an aunt, one who was apparently alive and doing something important in Ferelden. And she was a Mage, which meant she was extremely mysterious and, therefore, extremely interesting.

Perhaps her aunt would like a letter. She would have to ask her father all about her.

[groundcontrol21]

i'd love to know the scene that started fisherman's friend (definitely one of my favourite fics)

Well, this is just great to hear, because I thought I was the only one who liked that fic lol!

I'll give a two-pronged answer, because if I am strict and stick to only one scene, it might be kinda boring.

Because the first scene I came up with is literally the opening of the fic:

The wind blew bitterly cold, spewing the harsh North Sea mist against what little skin Robert had regretfully left exposed and soaking him to the bone as surely as if he had dived overboard to swim for the fish himself. His nose ran down his lips, raw and icy, and there was no point in him rubbing it on a wet and salty sleeve only to need to do the same thing again two seconds later. His joints ached, paradoxically from cold and slight fever, as he and the rest of the crew hauled in nets slick with brine and gorging with herring. At least, then, he might come by a shilling for the day’s efforts.

“Heh’NGSHHH! RSHHH!”

Robert wished he were at home in Aberdeen, abed with his wife and daughter, a hot brick and flannel for his feet, and a mug of tea and brandy for his head. 

I dreamt this up on the train back from Aberdeen, after spending the day being absolutely pelted by the wet wind from the North Sea as I walked along the coast. I was absolutely freezing, and so naturally I thought, "Damn, wouldn't it suck to have to be out in this while you have a cold?"

The second scene (ok kind of two scenes mea culpa) I came up with came about as I was turning over ideas for plot in my head. I wanted to have the main cold-ridden character be snappy and a bit of a complainy bastard, because I don't write those a lot, and having a cold in such a sucky environment was the perfect excuse for it.

So I wrote these lines:

Without warning, a coughing fit overtook Robert and he paused, hands on his knees, until he could catch his breath. “Suffering Jesus, I’ll be dead of pneumonia before we get this catch in,” he muttered, before cupping his hands to his lips and calling out above the wind as loudly as his hoarse voice would allow.

I wanted the source of tension to be with another crewmate but to also be something that adds to Robert's misery, hence the slowness in getting the catch in. Then, I knew I wanted to make him feel a bit bad later for being so snappy to the guy, so I wrote the scene where Thomson gives him the lozenges (and the lozenges are all bc of the connection with fishermen) to make Robert feel bad in the face of undeserved kindness. I also got the idea for the lozenge "care pack", in a way, from a little set up of a typical 19th century fishing cottage they had in a museum in Aberdeen. I loved the little details of all the little superstitious items they had hanging on the wall, like a rock hung in a certain place to make sure the sailor got home safe, and I wanted to incorporate that vibe of "care from land" into the fic.

Then I filled in the blanks of what the tension was and why, then how it got resolved. Dusted it off with snz, and voila.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch.3: Jesus Is A Pisces

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder has forgotten Scully’s birthday every year but one. Actually, make that two now, since this year he’s determined to make the day special for her somehow. He’d asked her casually what her plans were, and she admitted that outside of a lunch with her mother and some church friends on Sunday the 22nd, she didn’t really have any intention to celebrate.

“It’s been a rough couple months,” she’d explained softly, and that’s all he needed to hear.  She’d gained and then buried a daughter within a few days’ time over Christmas, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know how she managed to stay sane after that, and if he thought about it for too long the waves of powerlessness and guilt that rolled over him were debilitating.

So instead he focused on what he could do.

“You wanna do something after work on Monday? I promise to be as un-festive as possible,” he offered.

She looked uncertain, licked her lip. “Just us?” she asked.

“Just you and me,” Mulder assured her, the words giving him a tiny, shameful thrill.

She was quiet for a moment. “Sure,” she said finally.

Come Monday, February 23rd, it’s business as usual in the basement office. They finalize their reports from the previous week’s case, wrangle their receipts, argue over who broke the stapler (It was him, she insists; while he claims she jammed the staples in and made it impossible to use properly).

At three minutes to five o’clock, she clears her throat softly as she gathers her things, and he can feel her preparing to speak.

“Yeah, Scully?” he murmurs.

“We still on for tonight?” she asks, sounding almost cautious, and his heart fractures.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he confirms, leafing through a file. “Be sure to bundle up.” He looks up at her and gives her a reassuring grin.

She looks happy and… relieved? Huh.

“Well, I’ll see you then,” she says, shrugging on her coat as she leaves.

Mulder smiles at the door as it clicks shut behind her. He’s unusually giddy about what he has planned for the evening.

Over the weekend he had gone to the grocery store since his refrigerator was barren, then camped out in his building’s laundry room all day Sunday washing every blanket he owned. He even stopped at the little bakery around the corner from his apartment, purchasing a single chocolate cupcake and a loaf of rye bread.

After work he packs his car with a cooler, a duffel bag, a large thermos of coffee, and a pile of blankets.

He’s surprised to see that she’s waiting for him on the steps of her apartment, wearing a heavy jacket and thick turtleneck sweater.

“I got too hot wearing all this inside,” she explains, climbing into the passenger seat. She seems almost excited, and he strangely wants to cry. God, he’s so fucking glad he had the balls to invite her out again.

“Where are we going, Mulder?” Scully asks.

“It’s a surprise,” he replies.

Seven minutes and three wrong turns later, he reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out the map, handing it to her. “Rock Creek Park, please, Navigator,” he says.

“Aha! I thought the route we were taking seemed… circuitous,” Scully says with a smirk, unfolding the map.

“Just tell me where to go; I don’t need a running commentary,” he gripes, secretly relishing her needling.

In about twenty minutes, they arrive at the park’s nature center. Mulder pulls into the lot next to the field across the road and cuts the engine.

“We’re here?” Scully asks, looking around. “It’s deserted. Mulder, please don’t tell me we’re ghost hunting,”

“Ghosts? No,” he says, climbing out of the car and going around to the trunk. “Help me with some stuff?”

Scully comes around to the back of the car, where Mulder hands her the cooler and thermos. He slings the duffel bag over his shoulder and gathers up the pile of blankets. “Close the trunk, will you, Scully?” he says, walking towards the field. “My arms are full.”

They trudge out to the middle of the field, cold winter air biting their cheeks. Mulder stops abruptly and drops the blankets onto the ground in a heap.

“We’re here,” he announces, setting down the duffel bag. He picks up a heavy wool blanket and spreads it out on the grass.

Scully sits down on the blanket, cooler and thermos beside her. “What exactly are we doing out here, Mulder?” she asks.

“Well first, we eat,” he replies, reaching for the cooler. He opens it and pulls out two waxed-paper parcels, handing one to her. “Pastrami on rye,” he announces. “I went a little crazy with the mustard on one of them, we can trade if you want.”

“You made these?” she asks, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite. “Oh my god,” she groans. “Mulder, you’ve been holding out on me. This is delicious.”

The satisfaction in her voice makes him flush. “It’s pretty hard to mess up pastrami.”

“True,” she agrees, “but I was starting to doubt you could even make food. Your refrigerator is usually pretty sparse.”

Mulder shrugs, opening the thermos of coffee and pouring her a cup. “Cooking for one doesn’t hold much appeal,” he explains.

“Mm,” she agrees around a mouthful of sandwich, taking the proffered cup. “So Mulder, tell me; is there a reason we’re having a picnic in the dark?” She eyes the duffel bag beside him suspiciously.

“I’m glad you asked,” he replies, unzipping the bag and pulling out a tripod. “You know anything about constellations, Scully?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course. He already knows.

“A thing or two,” she replies casually, clearly attempting to hide the smile sneaking across her mouth as she eats.

“Well that’s good, seeing as I lugged this telescope and a star map all the way out here,” he says, pulling the telescope case out of the bag.

Scully is enraptured, and Mulder thinks this might be the best thing he’s ever done for anyone.

“I haven’t done this in years,” she says, peering through the eyepiece as she adjusts the telescope’s position. “Not since…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to. He remembers her telling him once, on a long car ride to some anonymous, unremarkable town, about stargazing with her father when she was a child. Captain Ahab and his Starbuck, navigating the night skies by way of celestial markers.

The temperature’s dropping, and Mulder drapes the ratty tribal weave blanket from his couch around her shoulders as she searches the heavens.

“You want a turn?” she asks, drawing back from the telescope for a moment.

He shakes his head, plops down on the blanket and gazes at her instead.

They could be astronauts together, sailors of the stars. Dropping anchor in pools of the Milky Way, swimming through constellations and running their fingers through glittering strands of nebulae.

“I’m good,” he replies softly.

“Mulder?” Scully says from under a pile of blankets.

They’re lying on their backs now, side by side, eyes on the sky. Waiting for a meteor, or a passing satellite, or for God to wave hello.

“Yeah, Scully?”

“Do you give any credence to astrology, or is that too close to religion for you?”

“I appreciate its historical and cultural significance,” he replies. “Beyond that, I can’t say I have much of an opinion on it. Aren’t you a Pisces?” he asks, as though he doesn’t already know that she is, and that he’s a Libra, and that the shitty magazine he picked up in the dentist’s office says they’d be a tumultuous but passionate match. Not that he gives horoscopes any weight.

Passionate, though…

“I am. And I’m inclined to agree with you, though astrology’s link with early Christianity is fascinating. For example, did you know that Jesus is linked to Pisces? His birth coincides with the dawning of the astrological Age of Pisces, which spans from 1 AD to the year 2150. There are many scriptural references to fishermen, and early Christians used the fish symbol as a sign of their faith.”

“Huh,” he says, tucking a blanket more tightly around his shoulders.

“I don’t believe that the stars dictate my temperament, by the way,” Scully continues. “But there’s something beautiful about having a constellation in the sky that corresponds with your own birth. Missy knew more about this stuff,” she say wistfully. “She’d read me my horoscope every morning before school while we brushed our hair or whatever, in the bathroom where Mom couldn’t hear. It was fun,” she says with a sigh.

“Do you think she’s out there, in the stars?” Mulder asks and immediately regrets it. He didn’t mean the question to sound flippant.

Scully takes it in stride. “Is it crazy if I say maybe? There’s… there’s things I’ve seen and heard, Mulder, that I can’t explain. Who am I to say how God operates? Maybe He’s laid the stars out like a map for us to read. That’s probably wishful thinking, but life would be a hell of a lot simpler if everything was dictated by heavenly bodies.”

“Better that than by governing bodies,” Mulder agrees.

Their eyes drift along the razor-sharp curves of the crescent moon.

“My mom wants to set me up with one of her church friends’ sons,” Scully says without preamble.

“Huh,” Mulder replies, tracing Orion with his eyes. “Let me guess; he’s a dentist.”

“Emergency physician, actually,” she replies. “He’s nice.”

Mulder suddenly feels the weight of gravity pressing him down to earth. He can feel the rotation of the planet under his back, spinning him at a thousand miles an hour. “You’ve met him?” he asks.

“Yesterday, at lunch,” Scully replies. “He’s a widower, with a six-year-old daughter. I think… I think my mom thinks we could help each other.”

Mulder’s stomach churns, a facsimile of seasickness rolling through his body. “What do you think?” he asks, voice oddly hoarse. “Do you… agree with her?”

Scully pulls the blanket higher under her chin and sighs. “I don’t know, Mulder. I’m thirty-four today, and my career runs my life. I’m not sure how many chances at a family will come my way in the future. It’s not ideal, but maybe I’m past the point of getting to choose.” She pauses. “I’m sorry, I’m being fatalistic.”

Despite the near-freezing temperature, he’s got a cold sweat forming on his back. “You can always choose, Scully. As far as I see it. It’s-it’s important to me that you know that.”

She rolls onto her side, snaking a hand out of the blanket to prop herself up on her elbow beside him. “Mulder, I know you blame yourself for the things that have happened to me. But they’re not your fault.” He opens his mouth and she interrupts him before he can speak. “Don’t argue with me. It’s my birthday.”

He’s grateful for a change of subject. “That reminds me,” he says, sitting up and reaching over to open the cooler.

He pulls out a small pink bakery box and opens it to remove a single chocolate cupcake with a candle stuck in the middle. He digs a lighter out of his coat pocket and gives it a flick, igniting the candle.

“Happy birthday, Scully,” he says sheepishly, holding out the cupcake.

The single flame shimmers in her eyes as she takes the dessert. “Mulder,” she says softly, in a tone that makes his heart turn to liquid. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Just make a wish and blow the candle out before the wind does it for you,” he replies. There’s only a bit of a breeze but he’s not taking any chances. She deserves a wish.

Her eyes fall closed, and she sighs contentedly, no doubt formulating her request. Suddenly she opens her eyes and locks her gaze with his over the flickering candle, and Mulder feels a thousand words rumbling in him like an approaching avalanche.

Before he can say anything she purses her lips and extinguishes the lone flame with a breath.

She pulls the candle out of the cupcake and pops the end into her mouth, licking off chocolate frosting, and Mulder thinks he might die right there on a blanket in Rock Creek Park. He’s been so good, keeping his feelings to himself, but in this moment his only thoughts are that he loves her and wants her; no, needs her. He needs to touch her, taste the icing on her lips, map the constellations of freckles hiding beneath her sweater. Shake the winter chill out of his bones, letting the flames of her red hair lick across his skin and light his whole body on fire.

She’s saying something to him, biting into the cupcake, chocolate crumbs falling onto the blanket.

“Hm?” he asks, returning to terra firma.

“I asked if you wanted a bite,” she reiterates.

Yes, his body responds. Please please please-

“It’s yours,” he says as a declination.

“Therefore it’s mine to share,” she declares. She holds it out to him, and his stomach flutters as he leans in and takes a bite. He thinks of his parents’ faded wedding photos, of them feeding each other cake in black and white.

Don’t date the doctor guy, he pleads silently as he chews. Stay with me. Show me galaxies.

She falls asleep on the car ride home with one of his blankets tucked around her, the car’s heater cranked all the way up. When he parks in front of her building she stirs, likely awoken by the sudden cessation of warm air on her feet.

“Scully,” Mulder says softly, “We’re home.”

“Mmm,” she responds. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” he answers, glancing at his watch. “Can you walk or should I carry you up?” The question feels faintly suggestive, and he’s only being so bold because she’s drowsy and likely not registering the subtext.

“I can walk,” she says, sitting up and removing the blanket. Her hair is a fuzzy red halo in the glow of the streetlights.

“I’ll go with you,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Make sure you don’t pass out on your way up.”

“Thanks,” she yawns. “I don’t know why car rides make me so drowsy,” she says. “It’s like I’m five years old again.”

“Or it’s hypothermia,” Mulder suggests jokingly. “It got pretty damn cold out there.”

“Winter night picnics aren’t the most practical, it’s true,” she says. “But the blankets and coffee were a good idea.”

When they reach Scully’s apartment door she turns to face him. “Thank you for this,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

He smiles softly at her. “Happy birthday,” he replies.

He’s mentally debating giving her a hug when she reaches out and pulls him in gently, arms looped around his waist. He wraps his arms around her and drops a light kiss to the crown of her head.

It’s over way too soon.

“Goodnight,” she says. “See you tomorrow.”

If he says anything else to her before she slips into the apartment and closes the door, he doesn’t remember it. His feet are firmly on the ground, carrying him out of her apartment building and back to his car, but his head is far above the atmosphere, adrift in space.

He’s so in love he feels as though he’s running out of air.

[flowerflamestars]

okay i’m still obsessed with your idea of nesta and tarquin together!! would you mind giving us a little more on that, like how would they first interact, what would nesta think of him, all of that? thank you so much!!!! 💚💚

I would love to!!!

The important thing to remember about the Tarquin Draft is that is has the same main story as Daylight: Nesta in Day, Nesta the Library, Helion’s grumpy best, best truest friend ride or die companion.

So Nesta doesn’t actually meet Tarquin again until she’s halfway to okay. It’s plotwise timeline closest to where she is in the most recent chapter- feeling at home in her body, really hitting her stride as Librarian, gaining a reputation as just an absolutely formidable force who helps anyone who asks.

There’s been correspondence between the Library and Summer- Nesta, acting as a go-between for Kallias- but remember, no one uses her name. 

So it’s a big surprise when the Librarian arrives in Summer, pulls down her black and gold hood and...there is Feyre Archeron’s face, like a nightmare. Except not- wearier, sharper, older, devastation and salvation like the sunrise after a storm at sea- Nesta, who laughs in Cresseida’s face when the Princess of Adriata calls her a Night Court spy.

Nesta: wouldn’t that require belonging to the Night Court? Try my baby sister, if you’d like to yell about idiotic plans. Where are the books that keep eating people?

Cresseida is so wary, but Nesta, of course, isn’t actually going to leave before handling the cursed trove some Summer sailors pulled from the sea. She’s the Librarian.

Tarquin just...doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want to be proved inexperienced, that he can’t act for his people’s good by a beautiful woman again. But Nesta aggressively wants to help, and ultimately, he lets her.

And Nesta acts nothing like Feyre.

She takes off that cloak of office (listen, I’m picturing like, the coolest wide-legged, sleeveless white linen jumpsuit that has EVER existed, chic but functional), puts on a sunhat that she...magicked into her hand? and stomps into the shallows. Starts pulling sailors souls out of the treasure and hauling them to shore.

It’s terrifyingly efficient. And listen, Tarquin doesn’t give a shit about rank, so he, after some very blushy surprise because no, he did not know he had a competency kink and Nesta Archeron has tiny adorable little freckles on her shoulders- gets in the waves to help.

Nesta doesn’t even look at him.

What she does is save the lives of twelve of his men, pick up the faintly hissing, utterly cursed chest of books that started all this, and ask Cresseida is there’s a room where she can work. 

So they take her to the palace. 

The beautiful ambassadors rooms, windows and silk and the sound of water. 

It becomes clear that the curse is in fact, just a curse, but one that can only be broken under the full moon, which is two weeks away. So Nesta stays, being the only person who can keep that magic from spreading. The only payment she wants is to take the books back when she goes which leaves Tarquin, arms full of the traditional gift of pearls, VERY embarrassed.

But he gets over it. Tarquin is genuinely chill- he has baggage from the weight of his responsibility, of being fooled by the Night Court- but he’s also so, so young. Kind. Curious. He doesn’t want to judge Nesta on the actions of people related to her, and once she proves herself, he doesn’t.

And meanwhile Nesta is like, cool. Cool, cool, cool- I can’t sleep while I’m here, I can’t winnow home and sleep because the Library can’t suppress a curse from hundreds of miles away, I’m not going to steal the books like a fucking thief in the night like Feyre-

So Nesta does a lot of exploring. 

Tarquin comes into the harbor one morning, pink still streaking the sky. He’d been up in predawn doing Manly Boating Things with his navy- he walks through the harbor, lets the sounds his happy people sooth the rush of magic that still surprises him- to shape the sea, to cease the waves, to bend the world, to call the tide- and goes looking for breakfast.

Instead, he finds Nesta.

In line a line waiting for fresh bread and pastries, in another insanely attractive white outfit, looking at the sky. She’s alone- he’d given her guards, servants, knew damn well Cresseida was watching her- holding a basket, drinking coffee with her free hand.

So Tarquin joins her.

It cannot be overstated how genuinely charmed they both are with how normal it is. No death and war between them. No magic drawing them together. No real history- Nesta isn’t Feyre in the slightest- just a man with salt drying in his hair and a beautiful grin, asking if he can buy Nesta breakfast. 

Just Nesta, and the only High Lord she’s ever met besides Helion who isn’t aggressive. As she says, Nesta has as many problems with High Fae men as they tend to her- the siren song of power, challenge called to challenge by her very primordial being.

And listen, Tarquin is a huge, very physical dude. Summer faeries are touchy, in a friendly way. But he also, like Helion, is smart enough to pick up on how screamingly uncomfortable men make Nesta. He doesn’t know why, and noticing it made him feel a little sick- but he’s careful. Kind, funny Tarquin, whose managed in knowing her just a few days to figure out how to approach her without triggering her.

So Nesta says yes. Nesta probably says something snarky as hell about his High Lordly hospitality.

And Tarquin laughs- genuinely, beautiful.

He’s still laughing when they get to humble little window, and Nesta goes still. 

Tarquin clocks it- handles what they’re doing, gets Nesta out of the line of people without unnecessarily touching her. He sort of thinks she’s having a panic attack?- finds a nice quiet bench under a tree. He’s also pretty sure he’s making it worse just by being present, but he’s not going to leave her alone like this- so Tarquin just like, sits on the ground.

Which startles Nesta. She looks up- he doesn’t know her well enough to know what’s going on, so he’s extremely confused when Nesta goes: why is she here?

Tarquin: ???

Nesta: the HUMAN

There’s part of Nesta thinking the worst possible scenarios- what her past and the Night court taught her. 

But Tarquin just like, blinks? Sets down the pastry bag on the bench for Nesta and is says well, she was shipwrecked. A whole passenger ship from the continent last summer- she was going to the North, to start a new business. But she liked it here, and decided to stay. 

Nesta: that human woman, owns a business? Here. 

Tarquin, who’s starting to get what is happening here: Yes. She’s a Summer Court citizen.

Nesta eats a pastry. Nesta, face wry, eventually hands a pastry to Tarquin, who’d seemingly decided she needed them more than he did. Tarquin wolfs it down in three bites, just enough time for Nesta to grumpily confess: I’ve never seen a free human, above the Wall.

Tarquin, haltingly, shyly is like: well, I want it to be different. We all share the same world. Acting like we’re not all the same is how Hybern almost took over- 

By the end of the sentence he’d managed to look up. That was the voice a High Lord, a man who had power and would use it.

So they have this truce, a spark of very real, pretty damned charmed interest. They walk back to the Palace across the whole city, talking.

The next day Nesta is deep in working Librarianing while she’s there- and Tarquin just pops up. Draws as little attention to himself as possible to be like, here. I noticed your hat blew away yesterday? So I brought you a new one. And some coffee. Do you like it cold? Don’t let me get in the way, what you’re doing is important.

What he means by important: incredible. 

It had taken him ages to find her, because Nesta is apparently spending her spare time- does she sleep??- winnowing all over his territory, solving any problems anyone asks of her, bringing books to schools. Talking to regional leaders about what their educational needs are. Chatting with sea monsters so the fishermen understand they’ll be totally safe, so long as they always throw back in that one kind of crab that the baby krackens exclusively eat.

And look, it is a coping strategy. Nesta CANNOT rest by the sound of the sea- but she’d also realized this kingdom her sister had fucked with had been hit so, so hard by Amarantha, and then the war. That she can help, so she will.

But she just kind of stops. Tarquin left as quickly as he came she’s just there like- coffee. hat. BEAUTIFUL RESPECTFUL MAN. It’s not the vibe of her and Helion. It’s flirty but not...pressing? It’s nothing like how any faerie man (see: Cassian) who wanted her has ever, ever treated her and it’s just...so, nice.

He’s nice. Gorgeous. Easy to be around, which Does Not Happen to Nesta ever.

Nesta breaks the curse and leaves. 

Keeps her promise to the schools, visits to sit on the shore and talk to sea monster babies, so much more prodigious now that they have enough food.

Tarquin thinks she’s amazing, and he starts writing to her. For real Lordship reasons, but also just to see what she’ll say- he wants to know how humans live. How his cities could integrate them. Can they use magic? Will they, if it’s available to them?  

Tarquin finds someone- witty, beautiful, so intriguing- who believes in the value of his most difficult dreams. Nesta finds someone who looks at the most fraught, hurt parts of her- humanity lost, a terrible human life, that she still, even now, asks herself sometimes if she can belong, and treats those things as important and integral.

And they fall in love.

It’s a story about a lot of things- Nesta, who drowned to become, learning the whole seas of world will still for her, protect her. Tarquin who does revolutionize his kingdom, and spend centuries counting Nesta’s freckles as they peel and disappear. 

Love of choice. Nesta, in the sun, being adored. Tarquin, who so many people think is foolish, a reckless dreamer, defended by the most loyal person on earth. 

There’s small details i love so much it makes me want to go to the extremely troublesome work of writing them their own story- Nesta inviting the mermaids from the Night Court waters to live in a place no on is afraid of them. Tarquin who is both sort of a golden retriever but ALSO a proud, petty bitch when tried, draping Nesta head to toe in rubies for inter-court events. 

With Tarquin the story really embraces the idea of eternity- of possibility. They’re young, they’re equals in this eternal life. There’s so many years ahead of them, so many things they can do: they have time to go slow, to make changes, to learn each other inside and out as they become the people they want to be.

[hiddendreamer67]

Giant Mers are Good Mers

That's right, it's MerMay baby! Introducing my new bois. Caspian is a giant siren with influences of Mediterranean monk seals and leopard seals. Beckett is a lil' human who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. This piece is a completed oneshot, but I've got a couple ideas for more oneshots with this pairing, including a few ideas for alternate universes (especially after seeing all the fun @ibis-gt seems to be having with AUs of their bois).

Word count: 6,001

Initial prompt idea: human was taken by a giant siren but then let go (on a whim / siren got bored) but human doesn’t know why they were spared so they come back to thank the siren. The siren doesn’t even remember doing that because it was such an insignificant event to them, but now it’s interesting because humans never came on their own.

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Beckett had always been a simple fellow. He grew up in WhiteBridge, on a small town farm with his three older sisters picking on him ceaselessly. While he loved WhiteBridge and its quaint charms, Beck found his true passion in books, and studied at Oxford for several years before scouring the globe for his passion. In his quest for knowledge, Beckett chose to join a month-long excursion out at sea, and found himself regretting that decision a few weeks later.

“Steady on there.” One of the sailors, Michelle, handed him a pair of earplugs. “You’ll need these where we’re going.”

Beckett eyed the little pieces of foam dubiously. “And just where might that be?”

“Siren territory.”

Beck hardly believed in such fairy tales, but to calm the sailor’s superstitions he inserted the plugs as instructed. Siren tales aside, Beckett found himself growing as twitchy as the sailors. The coastline hadn’t been visible for ages due to a large amount of fog accumulation. The stormy skies were foreboding as well, indicating that proper precautions would need to be taken. This far north, the weather reports often indicated rocky waves far beyond what should be normal.

Would Beckett sink, out here in the middle of nowhere? Was that to be his fate? The young man began to fret, hastening to make himself useful as the first rolls of thunder sounded off and the waves grew steadily higher.

And then, he heard it. Beckett paused, arms slack on the rope as he attempted to hear that haunting melody. Was the weather playing tricks on him, or was someone calling out to him.

“BECK! EARS!”

Beckett blinked, stunned to find himself standing on the slippery railing. When did he get up here? Beck hastened to climb down, noticing the rest of the crew had their hands firmly clasped over their ears, even with the ear plugs inserted.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Even with the double protection, the voice grew in volume, its booming voice penetrating into their heads. Every single person on board fell victim to its call, the ship’s captain turning the wheel to head towards the beckoning beast. Beckett climbed back up to the railing, plunging overboard into the crashing waves.

With a sputter, Beckett fought to keep his breath, legs kicking desperately against the current. Even in his desperate survival state, the voice called to him, and instinctively Beckett swam in the right direction to answer its call.

Every time the voice paused to take a breath, Beck would regain control for only a moment, his heart pounding as his fate flashed before his eyes with nothing to be done about it. Between one blink and the next, the sky grew darker, a looming shape breaching in the distance. Another blink, and Beckett’s face lost all complexion staring up at his demise.

A great sea serpent, half man half beast, towered with its human half over the pitiful human. With a single shift of its body, the beast created waves that threatened to pull Beck under. Those sharp features and piercing blue eyes were unforgettable, and subconsciously Beck realized this was the last face he would ever see.

Another blink. This time, when the serpent let out a hum, Beckett remained conscious but still out of his own control. His body was lax but his mind manic. The siren reached for him, slimy claws surrounding his form and making Beck shudder as he was raised 50 feet in the air in seconds. Beckett whimpered, coughing out sea water as his gaze was drawn down to the siren’s lips. The creature grinned and revealed its razor-sharp fangs. Taking a deep breath in, the siren revealed the cavernous depths beyond as it prepared to inhale its next meal.

Beckett pleaded nonsense pitifully, tears pouring down his cheeks as the haunting nothingness washed over his mind yet again. Would he even wake once more? Was the beast merciful enough to let Beckett go in his sleep?

When Beckett woke up, he thought he was dead.

He squinted, the sun too bright for his eyes. The sun? What happened to the storm? Stranger yet, the water that had soaked him to the bone was no more. Beck was dry, wrapped in blankets in a stranger’s bed.

“You’re awake.”

Beckett turned his head, his sore muscles protesting the movement. Beside him sat an older looking fellow, hair greying with age. “Who’re you?”

“The name’s Seymour.” Seymour introduced himself. “And who’re you?”

“Beck.” Beckett’s voice felt like he hadn’t spoken in days. “Am I dead?”

“No, but you tried awful hard.” Seymour assured him. “Found you passed out on the shore two days ago. Guessin’ you were part of some shipwreck? Though there wasn’t much wreckage to be found. Awfully impressive for you to have swam that far.”

Is that what happened? Beck frowned, trying to parse out the details. His body ached something terrible. He did remember swimming for a great distance. Had the siren all been a strange vision of his adrenaline-infused thoughts?

“...huh.” Beck settled back into the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. “I… didn’t know I could do that.”

“Well that, or an angel saved you.” Seymour chuckled. “You’re one lucky soul.”

Beck squinted in thought. If that’s what angels looked like, he could understand why all biblical depictions had humans cowering in fear.

(...was it an angel?)

Beckett spent some of the most confusing weeks of his life recovering from the shipwreck. Even as his physical form healed, Beck couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the events that transpired that night. He couldn’t get the notion out of his head that the giant sea serpent was real. It had all felt so lifelike, the claws and the fish breath and the dark melodious tones that haunted his dreams…

Seymour was kind enough to open his home to Beck, offering the traumatized lad a position maintaining his lighthouse while Beckett still fought to gather his wits. “Yer’ not the first.” Seymour assured him with a chuckle. “It’s no water off my back if you want to keep me company while you figure things out.”

You’re not the first. Beckett had cleared his throat, wanting to address that thought. “The other people who wash up on shore… did they ever… see anything?”

Seymour raised a patient eyebrow. “What do you mean, seen? Figure you lot have all seen a lot, what with the wreckage.”

“No, I mean, out at sea.” Beck felt foolish, twiddling his thumbs a bit. “Like a… like a merman.”

To his credit, Seymour did nothing more than a slow blink. “A merman.” He repeated.

“But, not a regular merman.” Beck winced at his own words. Just what was a regular merman? “A big one, like a hundred feet long, and pale white skin, and white locks of hair, and piercing blue eyes-”

“Kid.” Seymour cut him off. “I’ll tell it to ya straight. No, I ain’t ever heard nothing like that.”

Today, Beckett found himself on the cliffside, safely back from the edge as he watched the distant waves. His knees were tucked up to his chest, chin atop them as Beck sat lost in thought. Somewhere out there, Beckett’s giant captor- and later savior- was out there.

Why did the beast let him go? Even further than that, the siren had gone out of its way to give Beck a chance at life. There’s no way Beckett could have made it all the way to the shore on his own, disoriented as he had been.

Despite his better judgement, Beckett had to know the truth. With this foolish notion in mind, Beck set out a few months later, having rented a boat from one of the local fishermen. It took a lot of practice for Beckett to learn how to guide such a vessel, as every crest of a wave made the poor lad jump.

Seymour must think he was mad. Often the kind old man reminded Beckett that he didn’t have to conquer his fear of the waves directly, but Beck had just shook his head. Seymour couldn’t understand the debt Beck felt to the creature that had saved his life, and his curiosity kept him captive. Beckett wouldn’t be free until he had answers.

Of course, once he was out on the waters, Beck realized how foolish of a plan this truly was- he knew nothing about aquatic navigation. Every part of the ocean looked the same to him. Even worse, his memories of the last sea journey were extremely muddled. How on earth was he going to find the same location?

And even as Beck drifted in waters that may or may not be similar, the human realized he had no surefire way of gaining the siren’s attention. He settled for calling out often, hoping his carrying voice would be enough. Did the beast understand english? It was deceptively human-looking.

Beckett’s throat grew parched, and Beck sat down a moment to take careful sips of water from his dwindling bottle. The sky was growing darker, and a familiar fog had begun to roll in. An eerie chill began to creep up the back of Beckett’s neck. Suddenly, this plan wasn’t feeling so wise.

That’s when he heard it. The familiar song of his dreams was echoing across the water. Beck had forgotten the feeling, his limbs stiffening against his will like a marionette pulled taunt.

Blink. A gigantic fish tail, just the tip cresting the waves. Blink. Beckett found himself in the waves, gasping as he kicked frantically to keep his head above water. Blink. All too soon, Beck found himself clasped between those claws, water dripping from his locks as he stared at those terrifying chompers.

Oh god. This was a terrible idea. What should he do? What was there to do? All the blood left Beckett’s face, watching the siren lick its lips. It raised Beck higher, dangling the human by the back of his shirt above a now gaping maw. Beckett let out an unholy screech, realizing he had made a terrible mistake.

Beckett squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the words out of his lungs before he never got the chance again. “WHY DID YOU SPARE ME?!”

To Beck’s great relief, he didn’t find himself lowered onto the beast’s tongue. Instead, after the longest pause of Beckett’s life, he opened his eyes to see the siren’s mouth had gone slack.

“What?”

Beck’s eyebrows shot up into his scalp, shocked to hear the siren actually speak. Guess that meant it understood english, too. Beckett cautiously raised his gaze, meeting the siren’s eyes instead of its teeth. The creature looked confused, to say the least.

“You-” Beck cleared his throat, knowing he had to keep the siren’s attention lest he become a meal. “You spared me.” The siren’s brow furrowed further. Beckett frowned. “You… you saved my life? I mean, first you threatened it, but… 3 months ago? You- our ship, and the song, and… I woke up on the shore…”

Unfortunately, despite being the most momentous occasion of Beckett’s life, the giant sea serpent didn’t seem to have given the night a second thought. Beck couldn’t stop the sinking feel in his chest, knowing this whole journey was pointless after all.

The siren slowly shook his head. “That sounds unlike me.”

“It’s true!” Beckett insisted, especially because his life seemed to be on the line. “I was baffled too, but for some reason you spared me, and-and I don’t know why either! It’s been driving me insane. Why else would I sail all the way out here trying to find you?”

“You came looking for me?” This, at least, caused the siren to raise an interested eyebrow. “That would be a first.”

Beck nodded quickly. “Yes! I’ve been shouting for you all day. And before that I’ve been training for weeks, saving up for a downpayment to borrow Ben’s boat, which I’ll probably be losing now that I have no idea where that ended up…” Beckett grimaced, once again meeting the siren’s gaze. “Sorry, I’ve been told I have a tendency to sidetrack conversations in uncomfortable situations. Boat’s not important. Please don’t eat me.”

To both of their surprise, the siren let out an amused snort, the hot fishy air rustling Beck’s hair.

“I apologize for that.” The creature had the decency to look sheepish, even as its words curdled Beckett’s blood. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Wait, what?!” Beckett immediately began screeching, attempting to squirm out of the claws still holding him captive.

“Stop!” The siren hissed, his grip tightening painfully around Beck’s ribs. “You will fall with that behavior.”

Beck winced, continuing to struggle against the crushing appendages. “That was kind of the idea. I choose waves over teeth.”

“Waves over…?” The siren shook his head. “No, you misunderstand. I will not eat you.”

Beck found that hard to believe. He squinted, judging the gigantic face before him even as the pressure stayed tight around his chest. “So, you were going to?”

“Yes.”

“But now you’re not.”

“Yes.”

“...why?”

“Because you’re quite interesting, little human.” The siren admitted. “Your question confuses me. Do you want to be eaten?”

Beck chose wisely to avoid that question. “My name’s Beckett.” He said instead. “Beck, for short. Not little human, or anything.”

The siren blinked. It must be strange putting a name to your not-food. “My name is Caspian.”

Caspian. For some reason, Beck hadn’t actually pictured the siren having a name. Or talking. Or generally possessing much humanity at all… the self-reflection made him feel a bit guilty.

“It’s nice to meet you, Caspian.” Beck greeted. He glanced around, realizing the sun had finished setting. “Can we circle back to the boat issue? I mean, I’m glad this hasn’t ended fatally, but it is getting late.”

“Hold on.” Caspian frowned. “You spent all that effort to reach me, only to leave? Little Beck, your story has holes.”

“No, no no no.” Beck quickly shut that down, hastily trying to avoid any possibility of a vengeful siren. “No that’s not it at all. It’s just, your time must be very valuable, and I don’t want to intrude. And also, contrary to popular belief, I'm not a great swimmer. Hence the boat.”

“Hmm.” Caspian seemed to consider this for several moments. The giant seemed to reach a conclusion, but Beck was uncertain what it was as he was raised up above Caspian’s head. “Climb on.”

“Climb on?” Beck repeated, confused.

“And hold on tight.” Caspian advised, opening his palm and tilting it so that Beck slid off with a yelp. “I was under the impression you need air to survive?”

“YES! Yes, that is- yes, I need that.” Beckett confirmed, quickly grabbing onto Caspian’s hair as best he could. Not the easiest task in the world with how everything, including himself, was soaked. Nevertheless, Beck was wise enough to prepare himself for whatever a massive sea serpent might have planned.

Without further warning, Caspian lowered himself into the water, only keeping the top of his head above the waves for Beck’s benefit. Beck hastily lowered himself onto his stomach, not wanting to slide off Caspian’s head as the mer began to swim through the ocean faster than a speedboat.

“Where are you going!” Beck shouted above the wind whipping at his face. He squinted, trying to see where the siren was headed but having no luck. Were they swimming to the boat? Had Beck really gotten so far away from it?

Unfortunately, the siren himself offered no answers. The night sky and fog did not help Beck’s visibility. In these conditions, he was practically blind.

After several minutes of this less-than-ideal water travel, Caspian came to an abrupt stop. Beck frowned, finding himself staring at a rocky cliffside shore. Was Caspian trying to return him to the lighthouse again? But none of this looked familiar…

Caspian raised his head above the waves, sending Beck scrambling to keep his hold. It didn’t matter, as those familiar claws came up and plucked the human from Caspian’s hair.

“Hold your breath.” Caspian advised. This was Beck’s only warning as he was cupped between Caspian’s hands, the mer diving beneath the surface.

Thankfully, Beckett was intelligent enough to take the warning to heart. He held his breath, eyes squeezed tightly shut to avoid getting saltwater in them. The pressure became quite intense as Caspian dove several dozen meters down with ease. It made Beck feel like his head would pop at any moment. Was Caspian trying to drown him? But why go through all the effort of telling Beck to hold his breath, if only to drag it out?

Just as Beck could take it no longer and felt on the verge of passing out, Caspian breached the surface. Immediately Beck began to suck in large gulps of air, snorting to get the water that got stuck unpleasantly up his nose.

Despite being above the surface, Beck couldn’t see anything. He tried not to panic, heart racing thanks to all the uncertainties of the situation. “Where- where are we?”

“Home.”

Caspian’s answer only brought on further questions. Home? What kind of home did a gigantic merman have, anyway? Slowly his human eyes began to adjust to the darkness, noticing that bioluminescent moss seemed to give the space just enough light to see the outlines of shapes. It appeared they were in some sort of underground cavern, the water lapping against a craggy water-worn shore.

“Ah, yes. Of Course. Home.” Beck tried not to think about the several deadly reasons a wild animal might welcome him into its living space. But thankfully, Caspian wasn’t just an animal. He could talk, he seemed half human- that had to amount to something, right?

Of course, Caspian had still planned to eat him. So. There’s that.

“You’re still not gonna eat me, right?” Beck asked, not about to leave something so important to chance.

“Right.” Caspian sighed, as if the question were a mild annoyance and not tied to Beckett’s entire livelihood. “But you have disturbed my hunting time. I’m hungry.”

“Not sure that’s entirely my fault…” Beckett murmured to himself.

Caspian lowered his cupped palms to the rocky shore, setting Beck down away from the water’s edge. “Stay here.”

“Wha-? Stay here?” Beck became alarmed, taking a few nervous steps to catch his footing on the slippery slope. “Where are you going?”

“Do not worry.” Caspian assured Beck, easing himself back into the water. “I’ll bring you back something to eat as well.” With that, Caspian dove back into the water, leaving Beck alone in this dark murky cave.

Beckett blinked, shocked to find himself alone in this enclosure. “I don’t think he knows what humans eat.” Beck grimaced, not eager to see just what Caspian would be bringing back for him. Would it be wriggling? Slimy? Would it be human? The thought made Beck want to throw up.

Beckett shivered, feeling chilly now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. He found himself in an unknown underwater cave off the coastline somewhere, still soaked to the bone in his wet rags. The icy temperature in here was freezing, and the water wasn’t any warmer. Was Beck going to die of frostbite here? How long was Caspian planning on keeping him prisoner?

Beckett walked up and down the shore, looking for any driftwood or materials to make a fire. He had no luck, of course, but even if he had Beck didn’t know the first thing about starting a fire. So with nothing to warm himself, what should Beck do? Beckett knew from all the books he’d read on environmental conditions that staying in his wet clothing was one of the worst strategies for survival, but standing around naked in the freezing cave didn’t sound any more appealing. Not to mention, Beck had no way of drying his clothes even if they left his person. He would just have to put the soaking wet rags back on eventually.

Making a foolish decision, Beck kept his clothes on in the hopes that his own body temperature would help dry them eventually. Coming from the man who went out to sea to search for his would-be murderer all day, perhaps Beck shouldn’t be treating himself as a good source for advice.

“What was I thinking?” Beck murmured, pacing back and forth to try and keep the blood flowing to his extremities. His fingertips were growing numb, and Beck shoved them in his armpits to try and keep them warm.

Should he try and escape? Beckett guessed there must be some underwater entrance to this cavern, but there was no way of knowing how deep he would have to dive to reach it, how long the tunnel itself was, nor how high he’d have to swim to reach the surface on the other side. Beckett wasn’t known to be a particularly decent swimmer. Even just the idea of getting in the water right now made Beck shudder, not eager to get soaking wet once more.

Beckett let out a yawn, the excitement of the day catching up to him. He was cold, and tired. Nothing sounded better than stripping off these clothes and lying down in a warm, dry bed back at Seymour’s.

Oh gosh, Seymour. What was the old man gonna think when Beck didn’t return home like he claimed? He knew Seymour had little faith in Beck’s sailing abilities, but Beckett had foolishly promised to be careful. Would Seymour mourn him? Worse yet, would Seymour try to send out a rescue? What if Caspian found him and wasn’t so merciful?

Beckett was dead on his feet by the time the water began to shift. Beck slapped himself out of his stupor, standing to attention in his semi-dry clothes as the giant merman emerged.

Caspian pulled himself partially up onto the shore, holding out one hand to Beck. As expected, none of this looked edible in its current form. There was a live octopus, still wriggling around, a half dozen oysters, a few slimy eels, and a few other squirming entities Beckett wasn’t certain how to classify.

“Oh, thanks.” Beck tried to keep the disgust off his facial features. Even with not eating all day, Beck didn’t have much of an appetite. But would Caspian be mad if Beck didn’t eat it? It’s not like Beckett asked for it in the first place...

“I was uncertain what you would like.” Caspian admitted, a soft frown gracing his features as he nudged the human with his fingertips, encouraging Beck to eat. “Will this be good for you? Do not be shy, I ate my fill already.”

Beck cleared his throat. “Well, uh, some of this is what humans can eat, but we don’t eat it… raw. Or alive, usually.”

“Hmm.” Caspian considered this for a moment, taking one of the eels between his claws. Caspian raised the creature to his lips. In one swift motion, Caspian used his fangs to tear off the eel’s head, sending a small spurt of blood spattering down.

Beck cried out, quickly covering his head with his arms to try and avoid getting caught in the rain. “COOKED! IT NEEDS TO BE COOKED!” Beck hastily corrected, turning a bit green as Caspian tried to once again offer him the bloody corpse. “It needs to be prepared right, too, I don’t think I’m supposed to eat a lot of stuff found in live fish, they usually gut ‘em and stuff, and I’ve never been one for sushi in the first place.”

Caspian licked his lips, clearing away the blood stains as he tilted his head like a pup. “What do you mean, ‘cooked’?”

Beck slowly uncovered his head, thankful Caspian seemed to have backed off for a moment. “Right, cooked.” Beck nodded to himself. “Guess you wouldn’t know what that is, living in the ocean and all. Um, do you know what fire is?” It was Caspian’s turn to nod. “Wait, you do? How?”

“Fire chokes out life.” Caspian explained. “It creates the smoke and the ash that destroys the shores.”

“Well… yeah, I guess it does do that, sometimes.” Beckett admitted. “But we use it in smaller, healthy doses. You use it to cook your food, usually heating it up and changing it to be healthy.”

Caspian seemed more confused the further this conversation went on.

“Unfortunately, there’s no fuel here anyways.” Beck gestured to their surroundings. “And I don’t know how to make a fire anyways, so-”

“No fire.” Caspian said sternly. He sounded more like a stern parent, banning experimentation with firecrackers in the house.

“No fire.” Beck confirmed. He glanced at the ceiling. “Probably wouldn’t have been the best idea anyways, all enclosed like this. But anyways, no. I can’t accept your fish. Thank you, it was very kind of you, I’ll be forever grateful, but if I eat that I will be sick.”

“...hmm.” Caspian looked- disappointed? Frustrated? It was hard to tell the mer’s emotions, but Caspian at the very least seemed to understand Beck’s meaning, as he pulled his handful of fish back to himself. With a thoughtful expression, giving Beck one last option to protest, Caspian tilted the whole mixture into his mouth, chewing it into a paste and swallowing with ease.

Gross. Beck kept this thought to himself, grateful he was not on the other side of Caspian’s abs himself as the pleased merman gave his stomach a few pats.

“Then what will you eat?” Caspain asked, laying down to be more at eye level with the little man.

“Well, uh, I suppose I can always eat after I get home.” Beckett chose his words carefully, still uncertain what Caspian’s intentions were. “My friend would usually make meals with me. Stew, most of the time.”

Caspian’s eyebrows furrowed. “I can make stew with you.”

“No, you can’t.” Beck corrected. Gently. “No fire, remember? Fire’s needed for stew, too. And we don’t have any of the other ingredients. Vegetables, seasonings, broth, cooked meat… stuff like that. And any we got in here would be soaked with sea water, and that’s not great for humans either.”

The giant siren seemed displeased with this answer, obviously intent on keeping the human alive. This, at least, was one positive note in a storm of negativity for the evening.

With a displeased hum, Caspian reached out his hand towards Beckett. Instinctively Beck flinched away, worried the siren had gotten bored and wanted to do away with him, but all that happened was a giant digit began carefully stroking the top of Beck’s head and down the length of his back.

“Uh...what are you doing?” Beck asked, still stiff as a board.

Caspian didn’t seem inclined to answer. Instead he tilted his head, curious blue eyes intently studying Beckett. “Can you sing?”

Beckett blinked. “Can I what?”

“Can you sing?” Caspian repeated, and after Beck gave a nod: “sing for me.”

“Oh, well, I can sing, but not very well, mind you.” Beck admitted, looking a bit sheepish. The stage had always been his sister’s forte. “Certainly not to your caliber. I don’t think you want to hear me sing at all, actually.”

“Yes I do.” Caspian insisted gently. “Sing.”

Beck let out a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for such a task. What song does one even use to serenade a siren? After careful consideration, Beckett selected an old nursery rhyme from his childhood, both for its brief length and easy melody.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star-” Beckett began, his voice shaking. He cleared his throat, trying to project a bit more even as Caspian leaned in to hear. “How I wonder what you are. Like a diamond in the sky, up above the world so high…”

Beckett had shut his eyes, trying to forget about any pressures to perform. A nice benefit to this impromptu concert is that Caspian had paused his petting to allow Beck to focus. “Twinkle twinkle, little star… how… er, ...up… ah…y’know what? I’ve forgotten the last line, actually.”

Beck grimaced, opening his eyes. Caspian was as difficult to read as ever, the siren’s face passive as Beckett awaited any sort of review.

“That was it?” Caspian clarified.

“Yeah, not a very long song.” Beckett agreed. “Meant for children, y’know? Just to… well I don’t know the point of it, actually, I guess it’s just something to sing.”

“Ah.” Caspian drummed his fingers along the rocks. “It was…”

Beckett waited not so patiently. “Well?” He spoke up. “I told you I’m a lousy singer.”

Considering the siren made no effort to disagree, Caspian held the same opinion, yet he wore a pained expression. Perhaps Caspian had held out hope for Beck after all? But then again, even if he were a renowned opera singer, how could a human voice ever possibly appeal to a siren?

“I thought everyone could sing.” Caspian admitted quietly.

For some reason, this bashful admission is what finally set Beck roaring with laughter. Beck clutched at his sides, doubled over with mirth as a concerned siren watched. Caspian let out a noise of concern, reaching out his hand to prod Beck in the side.

“No- I’m good!” Beck hastily assured him, pushing away the finger as if he had any chance of telling the siren what to do. “It’s just- ah, fuck. What a day, you know?” And with that, tears began to pour down Beckett’s cheeks, the poor exhausted boy helpless to stop them as he alternated between laughing and sobbing.

Now Caspian let out a whine, the trill noise echoing across the cavern walls as Caspian scooped the human up into his hands. Beck gasped, momentarily without air as he was forced against Caspian’s chest. “Shh, shhh.” Caspian hushed him, patting his back like he was a child.

Well, what did it matter? Beck felt like a child. He was tired, and hungry, and cold, and he just wanted to go home. Unable to work on any of those things, Beckett tried instead to take the comfort that was given to him, so overwhelmed by the day that this might as well happen.

Beck hiccupped, his tears still coming but too exhausted to keep wailing. Beckett leaned into Caspian’s chest, the smooth seal texture feeling surprisingly warm and dry for a creature that spent most of its life in the ocean. If he focused, Beck could hear a rhythmic thumping. It was Caspian’s heart, just on the other side of this ribcage.

“I wanna go home.” Beck murmured, more to himself than the siren who wouldn’t listen. “I just wanna go home.”

A rumbling sensation filled Beck’s ears, which he slowly recognized as Caspian’s singing. Beck closed his eyes, allowing himself to succumb to the call.

…

“...Beck?”

---

“-OI! Wake UP!”

Beck coughed, startled awake as he found himself once again doused in sea water. He blinked, disoriented to feel the surface beneath him was rocking like a boat. Before Beck could ponder that out, a bright light shined directly in his eyes, making him squint.

“Blimey, you look half dead.” Seymour whistled, taking stock of Beck’s appearance.

“I...what?” Beck frowned, looking around. They were on a boat. What happened? Last thing he remembered, Caspian had been coddling him like a wounded babe. “Where’s Caspian?”

“Who?” Seymour didn’t have a clue.

“Caspian! I- the giant siren!” Beck looked around, trying to spot anything in the darkness of night.

“Boy, I think you swallowed too much seawater.” Seymour shook his head, easing Beck back down. “Take it easy, you’re lucky to be alive.” Seymour pulled out an emergency orange blanket, wrapping it firmly around Beck’s shoulders. It was only then that Beck came to the startling conclusion he was naked, stripped of his wet clothes entirely. At least he could see them lying on the deck as well.

“The voice.” Beck insisted, staying down only because his head felt dizzy. “You must have heard him singing? He was singing. What’d I miss this time?”

Seymour had no answers, as far as giant sirens went. Instead, he explained his side of things. “When you didn’t come back yesterday, I came out to look for ya.” Seymour explained. “You must have a guardian angel after all. Caught you in my sights only by change with the spotlight, adrift in the waves. No idea how the hell you’ve got a speck of life in you, jumping in without a liferaft or lifejacket or nothin’. Holy hell son, ya got a death wish, there’s easier ways of going out.”

“I- what?” Beck frowned. “No, that… that’s not what happened.”

“Hypothermia can cause hallucinations.” Seymour swore under his breath. “Shit, you’re in a worse state than I thought. Never should have let you come out here alone in the first place, nevermind with Ben’s boat. He’s gonna kill ya, y’know, if you do manage to survive the night.”

“Didn’t mean to lose the boat.” Beckett rubbed at his eyes. “Got left behind on the way to the caverns.”

“To the caverns, he says.” Seymour rolled his eyes, handing Beck a warm thermos. “Drink. Sit. And don’t fall asleep.” With these last instructions, Seymour moved over to the captain’s chair, starting the motor and steering the boat back towards shore.

Beck stared at the waves passing by, sipping gently at the contents of the thermos. Tasted like hot lemon tea. Beck would have preferred hot chocolate, if shipwreck survivors were allowed to have preferences.

Was it a shipwreck? Did he jump in? No… no it was Caspian, wasn’t it? Dumb seal’s fault for it all. That, Beck was certain. Too bad he couldn’t charge the siren for Ben’s boat.

Before, Beck had barely escaped with his life, lost and confused about his potential giant savior. Now, he knew so much more than he had before. Caspian was real. Caspian’s name was Caspian. Caspian had intended to eat him, didn’t, and then let him go. Caspian had forgotten him.

Would Caspian forget him again? Why did that notion make Beck feel so uneasy?

It wasn’t like Beck owed Caspian anything, truly. The guy had saved his life twice now, but only after endangering it in the first place. But why did Caspian let him go this time? It seemed as if Caspian was intent on keeping him around like some sort of amusing lil’ pet. What had changed?

Beck’s mind was too tired to process through such things. He sipped more of the tea, growing drowsy.

“No sleeping!” Seymour yelled.

“Yes sir!” Beck jolted upright, regretting it when his head pounded. The sound of the waves had changed. Beck could hear them crashing against the shore, indicating they were almost to the dock.

Seymour expertly steered the ship into the harbor, a feat which took a good deal of skill in the middle of the night. Once securely fastened, Seymour offered Beck a hand, hauling the boy to his feet and keeping Beck steady all the way up to the lighthouse.

“Alright, in you get.” Seymour instructed, easing Beck into bed. He piled more blankets onto Beckett, disappearing briefly to grab a warm compress which he placed on Beckett’s forehead.

“I really did see him.” Beckett murmured, closing his eyes as the warmth lulled him into a deep slumber.

Seymour let out a low sigh. “I’m sure you did.” Seymour murmured, patting Beck’s arm.