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milkywaydrabbles · 1 year ago

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I am so glad you have anons turned on... ahem. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, though!

Kinktober 29 + Alucard! (Castlevania)

A/N: I don't know what you did to me but I've been possessed once again for this ask holy shit. Tentacle anon lemme kiss u on the mouth ;; hope you enjoy MWUAH (also a firm believer he'll always be a lover boy no matter what) AU TIME

Tentacles x Alucard

“Adrian! I can’t believe you’re the little thief!” You gasped, scandalized that your sea-friend would be the one who’s been stealing all the balls that kept magically ‘floating away’ in the ocean. He shrugged with a sly grin, his tentacles sprawled around him keeping him afloat. You’d met the mystical half sea creature months ago by this point, you’d been paddling out to sea for fun, realizing that you’d gotten entirely too far from shore. Before you were able to panic, you saw the tiniest little cove a bit farther out, deciding to rest inside of it before making a plan to go back to shore, back home. Instead what you got was the scare of your life, a tentacle gripping at your ankle and with a shriek you fell back into the side. The playful little fiend crept out with wide eyes, not expecting to ever have a human here in his home. You mirrored the look, thinking you’d finally gone insane seeing something with the top half of a man and bottom half of an...octopus? Lots of screaming, and explaining later, your fears were quelled, and after hours of talking, you felt you made a friend.

And you did! Visiting him as often as you could out here, bringing him food that you’ve made from your home, and him giving you small trinkets he’s found lost at sea. (Most recently he’d given you a pearl necklace he said he made himself. You would have seen the scarlet bloom across his neck and chest, should you not turn away trying to calm your own beating heart.) You learned he’s the rumored ‘Alucard’, the sea monster that eats the sailors off at sea. (‘Why the fuck would I do that?” he reasoned) You also learned there’s more of his kind, he has friends he sees every so often, even has loving parents deeper in the ocean bed. But he likes to spend alone time here, closer to humans. He likes listening to the different sounds above the water. Sometimes you’d even see him out in the ocean, closer to the shores if there wasn’t anyone around. You started going to the shores late in the night, if only to see him twice a day. (You think he stays coming back to the cove because of you, but neither of you will speak it out loud.)

“I’m not stealing them. They really do get lost out here! What am I supposed to do, bring them back? Someone’s going to see me.” He couldn’t help but grin like the cheshire cat, using a tentacle to grab at one of the ‘lost’ beach balls, bouncing it over to you and you rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re terrible” Of course you’d never want him to actually go back and give them back--someone finding out about his existence could have very well been the end of his life, him trusting you enough to let you go was a huge feat for the merman. “I actually have something else for you.”

“Ooh, another beach ball?”

“Quiet you, come here.”

You huffed, crawling over to where he lounged and sitting in front of him, waiting. For the first time since the pearl necklace, you saw Alucard looking nervous. You gave him time, raising a brow and cocking your head urging him to continue. From behind his back, he pulled out a clamshell, “I promise the clam wasn’t alive when I found it.” He mumbled, pushing it towards you. You blinked, confused. This wasn’t the first shell he’s given you, but it was quite...lackluster, in comparison to the rest he’d given you. Plus, he looked entirely too nervous for a shell! “Thank you, Alucard.” You teased, laughing when you heard him groan. “Hush, ridiculous fucking name...the shell isn’t your gift.” He paused. “Open it.” the top flipped up and you nearly dropped it out of pure shock. What lay inside was the most gorgeous ring you’d ever seen. A beautiful moss agate stone set in the middle, smaller pieces of diamonds dotted around the band. It was an intricate piece, one that you’d be devastated to lose if you were the original owner of this ring. “Adrian, I...what...oh my god” You couldn’t even form sentences, in too much shock a ring like this existed floating in the ocean. You looked at him, mouth agape. “How did you find this? Where did you find this? It’s in perfect condition!” you were scared to even touch the thing.

He stayed quiet for a moment, shuffling over to you. “I didn’t find it.” He admitted. “I ah...I had it made.”

....

What?

“You said your favorite color was green. And you love the forest. So I thought this made the most sense for you. I know you’d rather live in the woods, but the ocean is beautiful too. I think you’d really like it here.” His voice was barely above a whisper, shaky hand bringing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Adrian, I don’t understand...”

You did. You just couldn’t believe it until he said it out loud. It all felt like a dream.

“I love you.”

Your breath hitched.

“And I would like to marry you. And have you move with me, into the ocean. With the rest of my kind.”

Your head was spinning, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Adrian panicked, hands frantically wiping away at your tears, unknowing that they were happy tears. “Please, please don’t cry. We don’t have to talk about this now, or at all, if you’re not comfortable it’s okay--” You cut him off with a kiss, your first shared kiss, hands smoothing his beautiful blonde locks. “Adrian, I love you.” Your admission knocked the wind out his lungs, head reeling that someone like him could have someone like you fall in love with him. “But how can this work? I mean, really, I’m not like you, I don’t...” He hushed you, placing another chaste kiss on your lips. “There’s more about my world that you don’t know, but I promise we can get you there. It’ll be our world soon, angel”

You had no idea what he meant, or how it’d work, but in the meantime, you carefully took the ring out of the shell and gingerly placed it on your ring finger on your left hand. Your vision tunneled on the ring, holding your hand up to see it glimmering in the sunlight that shone through the cove. “It’s gorgeous, Adrian...” You could cry right now, and almost started to too if you didn’t try as hard as you were from keeping it together. “Be with me, please..” He connected his lips to you again, tentacles wrapping themselves around your middle as your hands carded through his hair. Adrian bit at your lower lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth when you permitted and deepening the kiss. What was once slow and sweet became a flurry of moans, tongue and teeth, anticipation and lust. He kissed and nipped at your jawline, your throat, your shoulders. “Will you let me touch you?” Adrian whispered, hands hovering over your body. You nodded, lifting your bathing top off your body and pushing his hands onto your chest. His breathing stuttered, kneading and pinching at your body. “So beautiful, angel.” He murmured, dipping a tentacle at the hem of your bottoms, another joining by the edge of your pussy. You gasped, feeling yourself clench around nothing.

You’d never thought yourself to be prude you just...never thought about being fucked by tentacles. Or a merman. But, fuck, if you weren’t turned on thinking about Adrian doing what he wanted with you before whisking you away to the deepest parts of the ocean. You pressed yourself closer to him, letting the tentacles pull away your bottoms. A hand came down to tease at your entrance, feeling the slick dripping on his fingers. “So wet..all for me?” He cooed, smiling when he felt you nodding against the crook of his neck. He wouldn’t tease you much, not this time--feeling much too impatient. His fingers slid into your pretty cunt with ease, so turned on you could have been ready for him right then and there. “Fuck, look at you.” He murmured, scissoring his fingers inside of you. He knows this wouldn’t be your first sexual encounter. He’s (unfortunately) heard of previous partners of your life, but none of them had the physiology that he had, he needed to prep you. “Darling, I need you to trust me, okay?” You furrowed your brows, humping at his fingers barely able to pay attention to what he was saying. “‘Kay, anything Adrian.” you murmured, before feeling the fingers replaced with something else. Something long, a bit slimy, definitely thicker. You cried out, hearing you gush and squelch around the intrusion. “Adrian!” You gasped, looking down at the juncture of your hips and seeing his tentacle pumping deep into your sloppy pussy.

You couldn’t believe how hot and bothered you were, seeing him fucking you with the intrusive appendage. Your hips rolled towards him, the tentacle slowly pumping in and out of you. It poked and prodded at your walls, the suctions ribbing at your hole and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your mouth fell open with a moan, head leaning back. “Gotta loosen you up like this, sweetheart, gotta get you ready..” You heard the merman speak, but the ringing in your ear didn’t help. His lips wrapped around a nipple, hand playing with the other. Simultaneously more of his tentacles wrapped themselves around your legs and arms, rubbing and squeezing at your appendages as the one still in your pussy pushed further in, kissing what felt like the entrance to your womb. You shrieked, clenching down hard on the tentacle with the immense amount of pleasure and hint of pain you were feeling. “Fuckfuckfuck, Adrian,” You mumbled, hands holding onto his shoulders, “feels good in my pussy, a-aah fuck!” You cried, humping at the appendage. He kept his mouth busy with your chest, a tentacle letting go on an arm to kiss your clit with the small suction on the tip, rubbing at the nub and leaving it slimy. He’d suction to it and let go, imitating sucking on the quickly swelling bundle of nerves. “Want you like this forever, darling girl” he mused, laving a tongue over your skin and leaving bites and love marks around your tits. His hands gripped at your hips, lips pressing against yours with a new fire lit. The tentacles working on your cunt were driving you to your climax, tentacle wrapped around your thigh pushing your leg farther apart. Alucard looked down at his added appendage fucking into you, and how juicy and wet you were. It was intoxicating, and he realized quickly he could have you like this more than he’d like to admit.

“Wanna feel you on me, darling.” He cooed, pushing the tentacle deeper in you and curling, acting almost like a large tongue licking inside your sloppy little cunt, smile curling on his face when he heard the squeal he was looking for, feeling you gush around him. The suction cups held the stickiness of your pussy, Alucard swiping at a few to taste your cum on his tongue. He moaned lowly, nearly angry at himself for not having your first orgasm be on his tongue. But there’d be so many after this time anyways, he didn’t have to worry, you’d be his forever. “Would you like a taste?” You nodded dumbly, limbs feeling like jello. You thought he’d kiss you, instead you had his tentacle shoved into you mouth, squirming around to taste your own mess in your mouth. Another immediate, albeit small shockwave hit your pussy, dripping down your legs with how turned on having his appendage in your mouth made you feel. Adrian swiped at your pussy, sucking up and licking as much of your cum as you’d give him, “Can’t believe you came again just by that.” Big words honestly for someone that was about ready to cum untouched with how hot you were. Most of his cock fit inside his body, length too long for his kind to have it floating out. He kept the first tentacle in your mouth, loving the way you sucked on it and didn’t let go. “Relax for me, darling girl.” He whispered, feeding his huge cock into your tight wet hole. You squealed around him, the head of his cock so big it already felt like you were being split apart. But it felt so fucking good having him filling you up like this, pushing and pushing at your walls until you were filled to the brim with his engorged cock. You mumbled around him, swiveling and bucking your hips on him, squirming. “Let’s keep you still so I don’t hurt you,” More of his tentacles held your limbs enough for you to not be able to move freely, one still suckling and teasing at your clit with another dipping in teasingly next to his cock, almost as if taunting you--as if you could ever have two of these things inside you at the same time.

Your eyes rolled back, cheeks bulging with the size of his tentacle, tears staining your face whenever the tip hit the back of your throat, Adrian wanted this to be romantic, he swears, but the way you sucked him in--the way you got excited with his tentacles touching you, it was so difficult to keep going like that. His primal instincts were kicking in hard, wanting to claim you fully in every way. His upper body leaned back to take in the sight of you being impaled over and over on his cock, seeing your creamy cunt swallow him up. Your pussy was so juicy, squelches reverberating off the walls of the cove. It was nearly as loud as your muffle moans, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth as your jaw stayed pried open. “Fuck, darling, nor gonna last like this.” He murmured, holding onto your hips once more to slam you down as deep as you could take him, fucking into you over and over until his tentacled cock spurted deep inside you. You swore you could feel his cum filling your stomach, your womb, filling all of you as the excess spilled around the edges no matter how plugged he had you. Adrian panted, slowly retracting his cock from your abused pussy, seeing how his cum dripped out of you in globs onto the floor. He removed his remaining tentacles, smoothing his hands over you and rubbing at your face, nuzzling his nose into yours and your cheek, kissing at you. “I’m sorry honey, I couldn’t help it, you looked so good.” He begged for forgiveness, weaving his fingers with yours.

You smiled, kissing him back with the strength you had, “honey, we can take it slow next time. We have all the time in the world.”

#milk writes #adrian tepes #alucard #alucard x reader #castlevania #adrian tepes x reader #alucard tepes x reader #castlevania (2017)#milk kinktober #Castlevania AU #smut #alucard smut #adrian tepes smut #castlevania smut

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farmerstarter · 1 year ago

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ʚ 📜ɞ ˚ · . Meeting Elliot For The First Time:

tags: Elliott x reader

word count: 605 words

warnings: English isn't my first language so expect some errors scattered about

hi hello, have this short fic of Elliott I wrote. If you have any requests then feel free to send an ask! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated 💐

Fic below the cut!

It was May when you met him. The air smelled of salt, and the ocean breeze was cold from the early morning. With your feet buried in the sand, you stared into the horizon, empty of the rising sun. Your hair danced in the wind like the waves that would seep their way into the sand and under the soles of your bare feet. You shivered but didn't move. You focused on fishing and selling your catch to Willy, hoping for enough money to keep yourself afloat even for just a day. You moved into your grandfather's dilapidated farm a few days ago, and after meeting the local fisherman of the valley, he graced you with his old fishing pole. Fishing pulled in the money faster than farming would ever do. And with the leaks that seemed to multiply in the shack of a house you now called home, you needed more money to fix them than ever.

You were alone for the most part, or as alone as you could be with Willy fishing in his own little world on the docks. But after working for Joja in little metal cubicles that felt more like prison cells, surrounded by hundreds of other prison cells, you learned how to feel alone in crowds. No one in your old life would talk to you, aside from the occasional 'I need the report in an hour', the rare 'Thanks', and the even rarer 'Hello'. But that was then. And the first few days you spent in Stardew Valley had more substance than the years you spent in the city. There, you merely existed. Here, you lived.

Your musings were interrupted by the sudden tug of your fishing pole. You stumbled forward, kicking sand as you kept the pole close to your chest. You pulled and reeled in your catch. In what seemed like hours of tug-of-war, you finally pulled in your beast of a fish. Which so happened to be a sardine, barely 9 inches long. You frowned, disappointed.

"You've done better than me, better than I ever could."

You turned your head and saw a gentle smile. He was tall, all shoulders. His eyes were brown, framed by long lashes and the subtle wrinkles that came with age. His hair was as warm as the suit jacket he wore. If you weren't so enamored, you would judge his fashion sense. "Your arrival sparked many a conversation!" He offered his hand. "I'm Elliott; pleasure to meet you." And he said it with sincerity, a feeling still foreign to you. You gave him a smile of your own and shook his hand before dropping your measley sardine in your basket. You cast another line, and both of you watched it disappear into the depths of the ocean.

"I'm new to this town myself. I moved in a year before you did," Elliott continued. The ocean breeze blew some of his stray hairs into his face. "I was lucky to have kind Willy with me to help me settle."

His eyes met yours for a brief moment before he turned to the sun rising from where the sky met the sea. The morning shined in oranges and yellows. And in the growing warmth of the sun, Elliott seemed to glow. "I'd like to extend that kindness to you." The waves tickled your toes as you took in a deep breath of morning air. "If you need help or a simple chat, my door is open for you." There it was again, that sincerity. You looked at him, and your heart trembled. It was May when you fell in love.

#stardew valley #sdv elliot x reader #sdv elliot x farmer #sdv elliott #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley fanfic #elliott sdv #stardew elliott #🌱 writing :: ELLIOTT

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starlitiris · 2 months ago

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“Where is the Justice?”

Chapter 4: It’s Raining Somewhere Else

Summary: “It’s been about a month since Sebastian’s execution date passed. You are now 30 weeks pregnant. You’re barely staying afloat. At least you’re not alone.”

Notes: This time the chapter title is Undertale inspired :) I like referencing other things I like with my chapter titles muhaha. I hope it’s okay that these chapters tend to be kinda short ^^; bright side is it means I can get them out faster

~ ⚖️ ~

November 30th, 2013

An impenetrable sheet of gray coats the earth like a thick blanket, as the sky cries in your place.

You’ve cried a lot these past weeks. So much, in fact, that you fear you have no tears left to give.

You were tired of crying, anyway. You’re tired of everything these days.

You’re so tired.

“It’s about time we had lunch.”

You hear your mother-in-law speak, but you don’t turn to face her. You’re busy watching the rain pelt the window in front of you, analyzing how the droplets race each other to the bottom end of the glass. You used to love days like this. He used to love days like this.

“I’m thinking of trying that chili recipe Rita sent me. How does that sound?”

“Sounds fine,” you mutter.

“Okay…” She watches you for a moment. Your eyes glued to the window, slowly rocking in the rocking chair you were in with a hand resting on your growing stomach. She sighs. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

“Thank you, Valentina.”

You moved in with Sebastian’s mother shortly after he was found guilty. You couldn’t afford the apartment by yourself, and with your husband gone… you needed someone to help you get around. Valentina was more than happy to take you in. She told you that you could stay as long as you needed or wanted. You really couldn’t express enough how grateful you are to her. And Gavin, too. Sebastian’s little brother. He’s been helping as well. Them and your sister-in-law, Rita, all agreed to help you raise the twins when they come.

You try your best to stay on your feet. It’s hard, though, when all you can think about is him. You had to tell him through a plexiglass window that you were carrying twins. He looked shocked, excited… and sad all at once. You so badly wanted to touch him. You wanted him to hold you, and celebrate with you. But neither of you could afford his bail. It hurt your chest. It still does. A lot of things do.

You never had the chance to pick out any names with him, either. Your visits always felt too short for that, and you couldn’t be bothered to think of names on your while the father of your children was locked away for something he didn’t do.

You have names now, though. You decided you wanted to know their genders before they came, so you have two names ready to go – one for a boy, and one for a girl.

You want to name your son Vallen, after Valentina. You swear that woman is a saint. You keep thinking to yourself that you owe her your life – she may very well have saved it. She keeps you going, making sure you take care of yourself and get to all your doctor appointments.

For your daughter, you want to name her Moira. Truth be told, you always thought that name sounded so beautiful. You adored its meaning, too. “Of the sea.” A pretty name with a pretty meaning. You’ve always loved the sea.

You like to think Sebastian would approve of your choices.

You’re pulled out of your daze when Gavin barges out of his bedroom and into the living room.

“Mamaaaa, I’m hungry! Are you making something?” He shouts to assure his voice will reach her wherever she is in the house.

“Yes, mijo, I just started cooking!” Valentina shouts back from the kitchen.

“Oh, cool.”

You had finally managed to pull your gaze away from the window to look at Gavin.

“Hey,” he comes to stand next to you. “Whatcha doing?”

You turn back to the rain. “Nothing, really.”

“Mm,” he hums, now watching the downpour with you.

You both sit in the calm stillness, enjoying the soothing sounds from outside. You could almost smell the petrichor in the air.

“... I was scrolling through old pictures on my phone earlier,” Gavin starts. “Found one from my 16th birthday.”

You give a soft hum.

He continues, “It was that one that Rita took right after Sebastian smashed my face down into my cake.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. You can’t help but chuckle, faint as it was. You immediately remember that day like it was yesterday.

“I looked so pissed, and you guys were just laughing your asses off,” he snickers. “Man, I hated him for that.”

“You did get back at him for it, though,” you add, recalling when Gavin grabbed a fistful of cake and slapped Sebastian with it.

“Tch, yeah!” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Mama was piiissed. We got cake everywhere.”

The small smile you bare grows ever so slightly. You run the memory through your head, staring forward through the glass as if the scene was playing before you. Cake being thrown everywhere, a glob of frosting landing on your shirt, Sebastian putting Gavin in a headlock while Valentina shouted and Rita was almost on the floor laughing. It was certainly a fun day, to say the least.

“I miss him.”

Your smile falters slightly.

“I miss him everyday,” Gavin admitted, a thick sadness to his voice.

“I miss him, too,” you whisper, leading you both into a long, still quiet.

Everything hurts again. But at least you’re not alone this time. You discovered recently that it feels better to hurt with someone, rather than all on your own. It was… comforting, in a way. Still hurts, though.

You hear Gavin sigh behind you, barely feeling him place his hand on the back of the rocking chair. He leans down to get a little closer to your level.

“I hope you know your kids are getting the same treatment I got when they get older,” he warns, a mischievous smirk shown in his reflection on the window pane.

You can’t help but smile again. “Don’t come crying to me when they gang up on you and kick your ass. I won’t stop them.”

Gavin laughs.

He looks so much like Sebastian when he laughs. Got his sense of humor from him, too, clearly. Dick.

It stings a bit when little things like that remind you of him. You always see pieces of Sebastian in Gavin, Rita, and Valentina. You’re certain you will in your own children, as well, when they arrive.

It hurts. But at the same time, it’s something you desperately hold onto for comfort. It’s a way you can hold on to Sebastian.

You did promise him you would never let go, after all.

And you have no intention of breaking that promise.

Even now that he’s gone.

~ ⚖️ ~

Ao3

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

#pressure fanfic #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace x reader #pressure x reader #WhereIsTheJusticeFic

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entishramblings · 2 years ago

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Fuck the Forbidden Pt. 1

[Boromir/F!MermaidReader]

PART 2 | PART 3 — coming soon!

Fuck the Forbidden: FTF LINK MASTERLIST

A.N: so, I went to see the little mermaid live action and I couldn’t resist making a one-shot inspired by it. however,,, there are some twists and turns to the tail (heh see what I did there) so it is a bit different ;)

Request: none

Pairing: Boromir X Fem!MermaidReader

Summary: The Reader is a Mermaid and witnessed a shipwreck. She becomes interested in human life—particularly one human: Boromir.

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the mermaids of middle earth is not canon. also I tried my best with arda water/river geography plz don’t come at me—it’s not one of my finer subjects :/

Word Count: 9.5k — listen, I have a problem

Warnings: depression, drowning, ptsd, alcoholism, angst, comfort, fluff, stalking (idk how to make that last one sound less creepy. you’re just gonna have to read it).

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

The gulf of the great sea was known to bring down ships in the Bay of Belfalas during an unlucky storm. The rocky path towards the shore had claimed the lives of many during such circumstances. Though the weather was usually fair, now was not one of those times. The ship, The Deseirre, rocked and tilted under the storm's ruling, making it nearly impossible for the crew to evade the onslaught of unwelcomed waves crashing aboard. The harsh waters hit hard upon the men manning the vessel, nearly drowning them in the angry salt water of the sea as they desperately tried to keep the boat from going down. The captain of the ship was manning the wheel, turning and spinning it with frantic urgency. The quartermaster was calling out orders, directing the crew's efforts to secure the hatches and hold the ship steady. The sailors were running lines and yanking on ropes, hoping to pull the sails in a direction that would keep them afloat. However, as the night sky wept and bellowed in rage, it further obscured the treacherous rocks lurking in the cove. Still, Boromir prayed that their vessel wouldn’t be one to join the graveyard below.

“ONE. OF. YOU. FUCKING MORONS—“ A wave crashed down upon the quartermaster, stealing his sentence for a moment. The water slid across the deck, revealing his form. His waterlogged body fumbled to rise. “—GO REEF THE SAILS! NOW!”

The Captain of the Minas Tirith Guard caught the desperate man’s gaze and nodded—telling him that he would be the one to do the task. Boromir then took to stumbling across the rocking ship, dodging flying parcels and rolling barrels, as he attempted to get to the ship’s mast.

A sudden cry interrupted his actions, causing Boromir to turn his attention. It was Elidon, the youngest member of their group at the age of fourteen. He had been hit by one of the barrels—and three more were coming his way.

Instantly, the Gondorian Captain moved to his aid. He jumped in-front of the boy and took the blow of the next barrel before yanking them both out of the way of the other two.

“Sir Boromir, th—thank you.” Elidon stammered out.

He patted the younger’s shoulder in recognition of his thanks. “Help Heimir and the rest of the crew! Go!”

“But—but where are you going?! That side of the ship is getting hit with the most water?!”

“The sails must be reefed! Go to Heimir!” he yelled as he ran off towards the rigging.

A diplomatic mission, his father had called it.

Boromir, now at the mast, grasped onto the ropes and heaved himself up onto the first prong of the rigging.

Just a quick check-in across the seas to confirm their trade routes and hold relations, he had said.

The Captain of the Guard twisted his fingers as the wet material slipped from them, nearly losing his grasp.

It would be an easy sail, Denethor had claimed.

Boromir struggled to keep his footing as a large wave crashed upon him, disorienting him.

Not too far of a venture, he had insisted.

Of course, without any objection, Boromir had agreed to go to be the face of such discussions. After all, Gondor needed a representative, and who could be more suitable than the steward’s son himself?! Boromir had been actively assisting his father in various administrative tasks to ensure the smooth operation of Minas Tirith—hell, he was captain of the guard! Therefore, a simple sail was nothing; but, much to his dismay, this was no simple sail. They had come across rough waves and rocky terrain through their journey. They had hoped that the way back wouldn’t be as difficult. But, boy, were they wrong. It was worse.

So here the Soldier of Gondor was, climbing the rigging to reach the sails and secure the reef points. Hopefully, with luck, it would reduce the risk of the ship capsizing.

He was nearly there, only a couple feet away, when he first heard it: the shouting.

Though it was not just the yelling of orders and commands.

No, no, this was different.

This was the shouting of terror. A cry to let the rest of them know it was too late. There was nothing to be done at this point. It was just a warning—for them to brace themselves. They had but seconds.

One. Two. Three.

The ship crashed hard upon a rock, the sound of the splintering snap of wood getting lost in that of lightning.

Boromir's desperate grip grew stronger, his fingers digging into the coarse fibers of the rope as his legs flailed helplessly in the air. He could feel the burn of the material tearing and ripping open his skin, an agonizing reminder of the dire situation he found himself in. Yet despite this, he clung to that lifeline, his very existence hanging by a thread. He didn’t want to die. No, not like this.

The crew members' panicked voices echoed through the air, their urgent cries piercing the tense atmosphere and striking reality back into Boromir’s bones. Swiftly, they scrambled towards the lifeboats, driven by the need for survival. The soldier knew the ship was done. The irrevocable truth was evident—the ship was destined to sink and there was no saving it.

With a swift twist of his head, Boromir shook off the wet strands of hair that clung to his face, obscuring his vision. He knew he had to get to the others—quickly. His eyes darted from one possible route to another, assessing each for its level of safety.

Boromir, with his heart pounding, shifted his position. He would have to swing for it.

With a calculated movement, he extended his arm, stretching it out towards a rope that hung close by. His fingers grazed its surface, but it remained just out of his immediate reach.

He tried again. His palm collided with the rope, yet still, it slipped from his grasp.

Determined, Boromir reconfigured his stance once more, hoping that this adjustment would be the key to finally bridging the gap between his outstretched hand and his only lifeline.

However, just as he was to make contact, a powerful wave slammed into his back. This sent him flying through the air. Helpless and disoriented, he tumbled uncontrollably down the rigging, hurtling towards the ship's deck. With mere seconds to react, he desperately attempted to reposition his form mid-fall, aiming to land on the meatiest part of his body. However, before he could even try to execute any maneuver, a gust of wind propelled a swinging beam directly towards him. Its side rammed right into his abdomen, forcefully taking him along its path. A pained groan escaped his lips as his head collided with yet another beam. The darkness then consumed him.

From their lifeboats, the crew gazed in disbelief at the sight of the Steward's Son, a figure who had always treated them with kindness and compassion, being tossed about in the air like a little gnat. The rage of the sea batted him away dismissively, as if he was nothing more than a little pest. With mouths agape in astonishment, the sailors watched Boromir’s lifeless form plummeting into the water—water that seemed to almost reach up towards him, as if the ocean itself yearned to soften the pain of his fall. The roar and rumble of the waves then consumed him and his limp form vanished beneath the inky depths. He was swallowed whole by the relentless force of the sea.

“Make for the shore!” The captain of the now non-existent ship hollered.

“But Captain!” Elidon cried out frantically. “What of Sir Boromir?! We cannot leave him!”

Grasping the torn and drenched fabric of his younger companion's tunic, the captain hollered his reply. “No man could have survived a blow to the back of the head like that. Forget Sir Boromir!” His gaze then shifted urgently towards Heimir, a comrade who shared in the grief of the recently departed. "Row for the shore! NOW! We cannot delay a moment longer!"

“But Captain!” Elidon shouted.

“Shut it boy! Or I will throw you over too!” he snapped back.

Reluctantly, Heimir and another sailor, Stinar, started to row. The little lifeboat began to surge with the way of the winds as the men upon it desperately attempted to bring it home steady—the friend that some had held so dearly, abandoned to the black sea.

The men, however, did not know one thing—the most important thing.

They didn’t know of the legends that had almost since faded from their line. The legends that only the eldest of sailors dared to even whisper of—even after a couple pints. The legends of the beautiful and sinful beasts of the sea. The ones that lured men to their deaths and used their skeletons for fashioning jewelry.

…..

Amidst the disassembling of The Deseirre—its fragments mercilessly thrown upon the tumultuous waves to be claimed by the gods of deep—a pair of vigilant eyes floated atop the water's surface.

Their curious gaze captured the ethereal moonlight, reflecting its shimmering glow as the sea raged on. Observing intently, they absorbed the tragic spectacle of the ship bending and breaking. They witnessed the anguished cries of its crew and the frenzied efforts of those fighting for survival. In solemn stillness, they silently beheld the suffering. Yet, a tender warmth seeped into those unwavering eyes when they witnessed one soul selflessly shielding another of many years younger. This man took the brunt of debris, despite the pain. And, well, those inquiring eyes decided to follow that man.

They watched as he scrambled across the ship, desperately climbing to reach or do….something. They didn't know exactly what his goal was, but from his frantic behavior, they could only guess it was intended to prevent the ship from going down. His efforts, however, appeared to be in vain, for the ship was splitting into ruins and the men were abandoning it—all but him. He tried. Oh, yes, he tried very hard, but it seemed the odds were not in his favor.

Down he fell—spiraling unconscious towards the abyss.

And those eyes, the ones that surveyed the shipwreck, were connected to a lifeform that could feel such pain—pain of the heart. They belonged to one called (Y/N).

(Y/N) knew she shouldn’t.

They were not allowed to—none of them were.

It was forbidden among their clan.

Though the begging of the young boy yanked upon the crevices of her chest.

It was forbidden.

All men couldn't be like those ones—the ones her father fought in ‘TheWar of the Riptides’ all those centuries ago.

It was forbidden.

This man—this man couldn't be like them. No. No, he wasn't like them. He was a good man.

It was forbidden.

He had saved the boy and taken the pain with no complaint. After all that had happened in the past couple centuries, she had to believe that there was some kindness—some decency—left in the human race. And in that act, she saw it. She knew she saw it. So, here, listening to the young boy plead for the rescue of the man, Boromir, she could not let it disappear.

It was forbidden.

She couldn't let that kindness rot at the bottom of the deep.

It was forbidden.

She could not let it cease to exist.

Fuck the forbidden.

(Y/N) extended her palm outward, commanding the water to cradle the man's body, cushioning his descent and lessening the impact. The waves obediently rose, embracing his lifeless form for a fleeting moment before consuming him. Swiftly, she dipped beneath the surface, her tail propelling her gracefully through the depths. It took only mere seconds for her to locate the drifting figure, and without hesitation, she folded her arms around his limp frame. Drawing upon the innate strength bestowed upon her people, her fins pushed them both upwards. Their heads emerged from the water's surface and the moonlight bathed them in unison with the rain.

Ensuring the man’s head remained above the water's surface, the mermaid skillfully navigated her way towards the shoreline. She glided past the treacherous rocky terrain that had proven to be the ship’s demise. She evaded the broken debris that came from the hopeless fight. And she eluded the relentless onslaught of waves that came to snatch the prize she had stolen.

(Y/N) reached the shore at the break of dawn, just as the sun began its ascent to its position among the sky. The storm had halted during the first rays of light and now it kissed her skin and scales with praise. As she brushed upon the land, she gently laid Boromir’s head down upon the sand. Slow and soft she went about it. She was so careful with him. So diligent. She wanted him to survive. She needed him to survive.

With caution, (Y/N) leaned in and placed her ear against Boromir’s chest, her brow creasing and her lips tensing.

Please, please, please.

And there it was: the sound of blood thundering through veins, mimicking the tantrum of the storm in a mocking delight.

(Y/N) smiled softly. Oh yes, fuck the forbidden.

She lifted her head from the man’s form and bit her lip as a strange guilt flooded through her heart. Despite her relief, apprehension crept into her mind as she dreaded the potential consequences from the gods—and her father. She understood deep down that she should not have intervened. Just coming to the surface was bad enough. But this? Saving a man? Surely that was an extreme that shouldn’t have been trifled with. The mere glimpse of her tail, by even a single human, would forever rekindle the forgotten war between the races. It would seal the fate of the merfolk, burying them in their ocean.

It was forbidden.

(Y/N) turned to look behind her at the open ocean.

The little lifeboats were still a mile or two out. She had time—just a little time.

Despite the shame of her people that hung around her neck, she focused her care upon the unconscious man. Resting her elbow in the warm sand beside him, (Y/N) fixed her gaze upon his serene expression. Unable to resist, her index finger traced a delicate path along his cheekbone, his lips, and his chin. He didn’t seem like the humans from the tales. They all had been war-torn and death-driven. He was the opposite. He valued life—if it hadn't been for him that young boy would have found a new home in the watery graveyard. (Y/N) brushed his dark sandy hair from his face as she continued to caress his skin. Softly, she began to hum a healing harmony, seeking to provide solace to the motionless man. However, her efforts were brought to an abrupt halt when shouts sounded from the cliff above.

The land-dwellers had caught sight of the lifeboats, and it was only a matter of time before they set their eyes upon her. The fleeting sense of time she had once perceived vanished in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming sense of urgency. Yet, a spluttering cough at her side diverted her focus, triggering another surge of anxiety within her core.

It was forbidden.

“Who are you?” Boromir croaked, his squinting and blinking eyes conveying that he could not yet focus on her. His trembling hand then reached out to cup her cheek, taking its time to search for her skin in the air. As he did so, his palm accidently brushed upon her necklace of shell, seaglass, and bone. Still, he fumbled for tangible confirmation of her presence, and he did so until his hand found her face. “Who are you?” he whispered once more.

She placed her hand upon his beating heart. “Survive and live,” she commanded.

Then she was gone.

…..

Boromir sat up in his bed, the comforters pooling around his waist. His brother paced with restless energy before him, meandering across the floor in an agitated rhythm.

Back and forth.

“You never should have gone on that sail.” Faramir murmured. “Father never should have asked it of you—not with the waters getting more and more unpredictable by the day.”

Boromir sighed, tired of every version of this conversation that always seemed to come up no matter the circumstance. “Faramir, it is not his fault…”

The younger stopped his anxious steps and turned to look at Boromir. “Not his fault? You never should have been on that ship!”

“Yes, I should have. Keeping relations with neighboring territories is important. I had to be there.”

Faramir shook his head. “No, father should have gone himself if it was that important.”

“Faramir…” Boromir chided, emotionally exhausted and weary to the bone. “Please, let it rest. I cannot bear the arguing. Not now.”

The younger man let out a sigh, offering a nod of compliance. He settled himself on the edge of the bed, his kind blue eyes—that mirrored his brother’s—resting gently upon the fatigued figure. “I am sorry. I fear losing you to an ill fate, especially one so unnecessary.”

The Captain of the Guard offered a gentle smile. "Fear not, little brother. I managed to escape such a dire fate. The gods did not intend it for me, at least not now. I was saved."

Faramir arched an eyebrow, taken aback by his brother's particular wording. "Saved?"

Boromir inclined his head, his expression displaying a hint of reluctance. After a brief pause, he spoke once more. “Yes. Someone, well, someone rescued me.”

“What? Who? How do you know?”

A chuckle escaped Boromir, tinged with a touch of dark bitterness that resonated in his voice. "I was in a state of unconsciousness. I was drowning. There was no way I could have reached the shore, or even surfaced, on my own. Not in the state I was in."

“You don't think the tides brought you in?”

He shook his head. “Nay. The waters were too rough. They pushed me under and to the depths.”

Faramir huffed, trying to make sense of his brother's words. “Well,” he began, standing and patting his brother’s leg. “We must thank whichever crew member yanked you up and—”

“Faramir,” The Captain interrupted. “It was a woman.”

“—drug you to–to—a woman?” he questioned.

Boromir inhaled slowly. “Yes. It wasn't a crew member. It was a woman.”

“How do you know? Did you see her?”

“Just–just glimpses of colors and shapes.”

“Boromir–” he started.

With a bit of aggression, the Captain’s voice snapped. “I heard her!” He paused, regretting his tone and collecting his emotions before speaking firmly. “I heard her. She—she sang to me. She spoke to me.”

Faramir crossed his arms, his doubt evident. “She spoke to you? What did she say then?”

He looked up at his brother, focusing his gaze intently. “Survive and live. She said to survive and live.”

“You narrowly escaped death, Boromir. That was just your mind playing tricks on you as minds do to many who have a brush with such darkness. You, a soldier, know this.” He huffed. “Get some rest.”

With that, Faramir parted from Boromir’s bedchambers—leaving the stubborn man behind.

Boromir let out a weary sigh. Frustration, confusion, and restlessness weighing heavily on his heart. He had been confined to his bed for a day and a half, and the need to move, to be free, to live—it grew stronger within him.

Therefore, the Captain drew back the blankets and rose from the soft mattress that had carefully held his form while he healed. His feet felt strange upon the cold stone floor. It felt quiet and empty. It felt lonely and still. Boromir exhaled slowly. These feelings—they haunted him ever since the shipwreck. It was as if a fragment of his soul had been chipped away and consumed by the sea. It felt as if something dear to him was missing. He worried that whatever that piece was it lay at the bottom of the dark abyss.

He turned to look at the sunset beyond the glass of the window, shedding its soft gaze upon the waters that had threatened to claim his life. Driven to it, he moved near it, allowing that melody to echo in his mind once more.

That woman was out there….somewhere….and Boromir felt a pull to find her.

The Captain of the Guard shook his head at these thoughts.

Maybe Faramir was right?

Maybe there was no woman?

Maybe the tides had somehow rolled his body to land?

Maybe his mind was just plagued by the ghost of death that had reached for his soul?

Deciding that dwelling on such matters after two days of being bedridden was not going to help, he opted for a night out in his city. It would do him good—to see his people, his friends, his home. Therefore, Boromir was quick to dress and exit the castle of Minas Tirith, making haste towards his favorite tavern.

As soon as his footsteps passed the familiar threshold, his friends—sailors and soldiers—cheered his name and beckoned him further inside. With a radiant smile adorning his weary face, the Gondor Captain complied. His feet moved his form towards their table, glad for the welcome. The aroma of freshly baked bread and frothing ales mingled with the lively chatter of his companions, creating a relaxing ambiance of recognition. Food and drink were quickly passed to his empty hands, and he gratefully accepted. The nourishment, both physical and spiritual, infused him with renewed strength. The burdens of the past were momentarily lifted, replaced by a shared sense of joy and belonging.

However, as the ale flowed and lips ran loose, conversation soon turned towards the shipwreck—the biggest talk of the city.

“Man, I thought ya were a goner!” Heimir stated. “I watched as that beam ran right into ya and down ya went! By Eru, I swear the water came up to grab ya! There was no way ya could’ve survived that, I said. No way.”

Boromir shrugged, lifting his ale to his lips, unease regarding the direction of the conversation settling. “The gods must have been looking out for me,” he tried to dismiss.

The other dark-haired sailor, Stinar, shook his head. “And I’d be glad of it. Elidon was nearly in tears when the ship Cap’n said we had to leave ya behind!”

Boromir smiled softly. “He has a pure heart. Though I don't think there was a way that any of you could have saved me if you stayed. The Captain was right. I agree with his decision.”

Rollo, a soldier in Boromir’s guard, interjected. “See! This is why I stick to the sword! You'll never catch me on a ship. Hell, no.”

Laughter bubbled up at that comment, lightening the mood momentarily.

However, an older sailor, Iwar, leaned forward. “How’d ye do it then, lad?”

“Do what?” Boromir inquired.

“Ye know what I mean—” the old man grabbed him by the shoulder. “—survive, live, breathe for fucks sake!”

Boromir’s gaze cast down upon the table, just for a moment. There were those words again: survive, live. Feeling the ale run heavy in his blood and the despair that seemed to be chasing him surface, he looked up. Choosing to speak of his uncertainty, in hopes of comfort, he opened his lips. “Faramir says it must’ve been the tides.”

Heimir frowned at his friend’s doubtful tone, taking a swig. “Ya think it wasn't?”

Boromir shifted uncomfortably. “Unsure. I—I was unconscious. I don't remember anything until I was on the shore.”

“The sand told ya nothin then?” Stinar laughed out, clearly making jest.

Though, in the midst of Boromir's contemplative silence, a subtle shift in the atmosphere enveloped the group. Their collective intuition picked up on this unease, hinting at the darkness that followed their friend.

It was Iwar that spoke in a hushed whisper first. “Ye saw one of em,’ didn’t ya?”

All eyes drifted, unsure, to the old man.

“What do you mean?” Boromir questioned, his tone wavering.

A distant expression clouded the man's eyes, as if he had lost a part of his very soul to the depths of the ocean. “They wear the bones of our fallen kin. All strung up upon their necks like jewelry. We are spoils for them—spoils for them to take and do as they please.”

Stinar’s smile slowly dripped from his face. “Uh, what, uh, who?”

Iwar looked at Boromir, his green eyes bright and vibrant with the remembrance of fear. “The women of the sea,” he hissed.

At this, Heimir snorted and took a drink from his cup. “Women of the sea? Now look who’s had too many pints!”

Though, the tension only intensified, spreading outward like ripples on water, as Boromir averted his gaze.

“Boromir, tell em’ that he’s crazy! There be none of these sea women!” Heimir persisted, anxiety now stirring through his bones.

However, the silence lingered. It was strong and still—oppressive even. It magnified the odors of the stale ale, tavern piss, and sticky sweat that clung to the unwashed bodies that frequented such a joint.

“S-she sang to me,” Boromir whispered, for the second time that day.

Heimir and Stinar froze, their pints stiff and unmoving before their lips.

Iwar's weathered hand clamped tightly around the Captain of the Minas Tirith Guard's arm, his grip desperate and tinged with panic. “Did ye see it? The jewelry of bone? The slimy tail as hard as stone? They will sing to lure ye into their trap. Then they will devour ye in their nests of coral! Ye saw one of em,’ didn’t yer?”

Boromir's brows knitted together in disbelief. It seemed utterly preposterous, a mere fabrication spun from the ramblings of an old, intoxicated mind. There couldn't possibly be sea-dwelling women hunting them down. It was a nonsensical tale. With a dismissive gesture, he reached for his cup of ale, freeing his arm from the old man's grasp. "I have no idea what you're talking about. There was only a woman—a human woman."

Heimir grinned, laughing loudly and obnoxiously, as he slapped the Captain of the Guard's shoulder. “AYE! No sea tits to lure ya away from us! LET’S DRINK!”

…..

(Y/N) form twisted and turned as she moved with the current. She easily slipped above the corals and the reefs, through the sand dunes and the seagrass meadows, beyond the underwater canyons and the abyssal trenches. As she moved further, her iridescent scales—green, blue, purple, pink, orange—shimmered in the sunlight that had made it through the thick water, casting a mesmerizing display of colors. With each flick of her tail, she effortlessly propelled herself forward, closer to the realm of the merfolk.

As she came across one of the ship graveyards, she could not resist slipping through the ruins. Her keen eyes scanned her surroundings, curious and watchful, as she navigated the underwater cemetery. While she swam, her gaze drifted over all the little trinkets and forgotten treasures that the humans were forced to leave behind. Things she knew and things she did not. Books, maps, chests, and clothes—all scattered and heavy at the bottom of the sea. All forgotten. All forbidden.

As she came upon one of the men’s skeletons her brows pulled together and her hand reached for her necklace. The soft whispers of the sea echoed, as if it was trying to convince her to do what she desired. She knew she shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't make something for a human. It was a custom of the sea folk—not something to be shared with the land-dwellers. However, an insistent voice within the watery depths urged her on. (Y/N) cast a cautious glance in both directions, torn between her instincts and the weight of tradition. Succumbing to the persistent salty murmurings in her ear, she yielded to temptation. Seizing hold of one of the bones—the femur—she forcefully dislodged it from its resting place.

(Y/N) had initially intended to return directly to her father's castle, concealed beneath the shifting vallying dunes. However, something else tugged at her mind. If she were to proceed, she needed to acquire knowledge. With a sharp twist of her tail, she pushed herself back towards the ship that held the maps and artifacts. Her delicate hands sifted through each item, seeking the one she sought. Eventually, she stumbled upon a relatively intact parchment, its ink only slightly drifting. It contained a comprehensive depiction of the land, with all the locations meticulously scrawled. Every river and pond was carefully marked, and the paths upon the land were intricately detailed. It held the very information she needed.

With the map firmly grasped in one hand and the bone held carefully in the other, (Y/N) swam swiftly back home. It didn't take long for her to locate a secluded crevice where she could settle herself. There, she devoted hours upon hours to examine the parchment depicting the lands of the surface dwellers, tracing her finger along the various routes and pathways. When she exhausted such things, her attention turned to the femur that she had securely stowed in her bag. With quick movements, she continued to rummage through her satchel until her fingers found the familiar shape of a knife. (Y/N) then embarked on her task, delicately scraping the blade against the bone's surface, etching the carving she had planned.

It was only when her sister Anahita's voice reached her ears that (Y/N) finally lifted her gaze from her endeavors. “(Y/N)! There you are! Father has been oh so worried!”

Nerida echoed her sentiments. “Where have you been?!”

Amidst their inquiries, a mischievous gasp escaped from Una's lips, her tone playful, “By the shipwrecks, I see!”

‘The shipwrecks? What is your purpose there? You know the sharks like to linger,” Anahita persisted.

Slightly flustered by their sudden appearance and interrogation, (Y/N) swiftly concealed the bone, which was slowly taking the form of a whale, behind her tail. "What? No! Certainly not!" she responded, attempting to dismiss any notion of her activities near the shipwrecks.

Una swam towards her, giggling, before she snatched the femur from under her sister’s tale. “A bone from the human graves. Someone is in love!!!!!” she sang out.

“Shut up, Una! No, I am not!” (Y/N) retorted, her voice tinged with embarrassment and denial.

Plucking the half finished craving from Una, Nerdia joined in the teasing. “OoOo! A whale! Compassion. Care. Benevolence. Given to the protectors of the weak.”

Anahita grinned. “So who is it? Someone in the Sea’s Royal Guard?”

Una gasped. “Perhaps, Tamesis?! Oh, or Kai! Kai was always sweet on you!”

With an assertive glare, (Y/N) snatched the makeshift whale back into her possession. “It is not Tamesis or Kai!”

“Oh, so there is someone!”

An instant coral color flushed (Y/N)'s cheeks, her embarrassment evident. "Eat a pufferfish" she exclaimed, her angry words accompanied by the playful giggles of her sisters.

As the hours slipped away, (Y/N) put the finishing touches on her bone carving and made the necessary preparations for her secret expedition. She gathered the essential supplies: the map, her knife, a handful of oysters, and, of course, the delicately crafted whale.

As dusk settled and the sun's rays no longer reached the depths of the merfolk's domain, (Y/N) set out on her journey. Her sisters slumbered peacefully, unaware of her departure, while the guards remained oblivious to the existence of the hidden entrance she had been using for years. With determined swishes of her fins, she swam swiftly through the sea, her heart pulsating with anticipation. Eventually, she came upon the beach where she had left Boromir. Breaking the surface—a forbidden action that now lost the fear attached to it—she was not surprised to find the sand absent of his presence. He was likely up with the other people of the land, doing land-people things.

(Y/N) swiveled her head and contorted her graceful form until she located the mouth of the Anduin River. It would serve as her conduit to the grand city, her navigation, her concealment. It would lead her to the place where she would find him. She recalled how the men from the shipwreck had addressed him with the title of ‘sir.’ He had to be important. The important ones were always addressed as ‘sir’ and they always lived in the big cities.

The mermaid inhaled sharply, reconsidering her mission. This would be it. Once she did this, there was no taking it back. It was the moment of no return. She bit her lip. Consequences be damned. Fuck the forbidden.

So, (Y/N) gracefully glided through the currents. Her silky fins steered her through the Anduin, the gentle ebb and flow of the river guiding her way. As she swam, the distant echoes of voices reached her ears, growing louder with each passing moment. They were voices filled with excitement and joy, resonating with laughter, cheers, and animated conversations. Curiosity danced in her eyes as she neared the surface, her head emerging from the water like a whale coming up for air. With her gaze fixed on the scene before her, she observed intently, taking in the lively spectacle unfolding beyond the riverbank.

The first thing she noticed, after the sounds of life that had traveled through the water, were the smells. Thousands of different scents drifted through the air—ones that she could not identify other than the instinctual fragrances of smoke and flavor: food, she guessed. Spices and sweets filtered through her nostrils, captivating her attention. She wondered what they tasted like. The next thing that piqued her interest was the colors and action. It appeared that she had surfaced next to a social market, a sort of eatery, or a…something. Men sat upon benches drinking, eating, and speaking. There seemed to be more so inside the building, but some flowed out, stumbling and dizzy. The sloshing of the liquid in their cups appeared to be the culprit as they moved with sloppy ease. Inebriated. They were inebriated. The merfolk could get like that if they ate too much Sarpa Salpa—the dreamfish of the sea bream, they called it. Though how the men fumbled was a bit different to how the merfolk did. The humans had legs…not tails, after all.

(Y/N) with wide eyes and parted lips could not stop seeing it all—a simple little tavern, yet it was bursting with passion and life. By Ulmo! It was beautifully, terrifyingly, strangely exciting.

Though that excitement turned into a nervous thrill. A fluttering sensation rose from the depths of her stomach, coursed through her heart, and finally settled like a bubble in her throat. It was a strange wave of emotions, a mismatched concoction of hope and uncertainty, as a figure emerged from the establishment before her. In that moment, disbelief clouded her thoughts. No, it couldn't be. The eagerness she felt at the possibility of finding him oh so easily was restrained by a nagging doubt, a flicker of skepticism whispered in the corners of her mind. Could it truly be him? Could this chance meeting be the end of her quest? Though, that waving dark sandy hair that ran across his forehead and the stubble beard that matched did not lie. She had carried that man through the rapids and held his face in her palms. It indeed was him—Boromir.

(Y/N) was quick to duck behind a large rock, peering beside it with those cautious and curious eyes of her. She watched as he moved to look out up the river, seemingly contemplating his thoughts. His face was stern and still, almost emotionless. But his eyes—they betrayed him. They pooled with uncertainty and confusion, a lingering level of sadness hiding underneath a lack of understanding. He seemed….lonely.

(Y/N)’s fingers gripped at the rock as she leaned forward with fascination; however, she wasn't paying much mind to her hold, for it slipped and her hand fell into the water with a splash.

Guided by instinct, Boromir’s head snapped in her direction.

She was quick to duck behind the rock, her sleek skin and iridescent scales melding against the cool surface of the stone, ensuring her presence remained hidden.

“Is someone out there?” his voice called.

(Y/N) held her breath, but he made no move to search further. Instead, she heard his footsteps retreating.

She scoped out his motions quietly, following his form with her chasing eyes. She had just found him. She didn't want to lose sight of him—not when she didn't know where to find him again! Having only a second to make a decision, (Y/N) dunked under the water. Her eyesight angled upwards as she swam deep in the river alongside him. He paused, every one and a while, glancing at the stream, and everytime he did, the mermaid would push herself deeper and deeper into the depths.

It was a short endeavor. A fifteen minute swim—though it would have been faster if she wasn't going at such a slow pace to match Boromir’s strides—before he went where she could not follow: The Minas Tirith Castle. He parted from the way of the river and began the ascending path towards the brilliant white castle. (Y/N) had been correct in her assumption: he was indeed someone of importance. As he disappeared from sight, she surfaced above the waterline, her gaze fixed on the spot where he had vanished. She would see him again. She had to. (Y/N) turned her attention to her surroundings, taking in the scenery for her return. The water stretched ahead, extending towards the north, but another path curved around the castle. Driven by curiosity, she followed that bend, gracefully swimming amidst the swaying seagrass, startling small fish with her playful movements in the late hour. Before long, she reached an opening where the river flowed into a steady pond.

The mermaid's grin widened as she glided through the water, relishing the caress of the cool night air against her skin. Tilting her head back, she gazed up at the towering castle that loomed above her. Its grandeur and intricacy surpassed anything she had ever seen in her underwater kingdom. It boasted multiple tiers, labyrinthine pathways, countless rooms, and majestic balconies. It was a sight to behold, captivating her with its magnificence. However, her gaze abruptly froze, and an audible gasp escaped her lips.

Standing there, on one of the balconies, was Boromir.

By Ulmo—her luck was getting ridiculous now.

His bare torso shimmered with a gentle sheen under the soft moonlight, accentuating the sculpted contours of his obviously strong body. Leaning casually against the sturdy balcony railing, his arms extended, showcasing his muscled biceps. Though, a hint of vulnerability bleed through his physical appearance, manifesting as a pensive expression etched with longing and uncertainty.

If only he cast his gaze downward, he would have seen a face that reflected that same yearning.

…..

(Y/N)’s tail swished as she ducked into the dining area of her father’s palace. As expected, she found she was not the sole presence in the room. Instead, she was greeted by the disapproving gazes of her six sisters. Their eyes bore a mixture of reproach and inquiry, silently questioning her tardiness. Though Una didn't hold that silence long.

“Where have you been?”

(Y/N) blew bubbles from her nose, trying to mask the lie with a coy reply. “Just a morning swim.”

“Ah” Nerida commented. “A morning swim.”

“Yes,” (Y/N) persisted, maintaining her charade. "The coral was absolutely enchanting in the morning light. You should experience it sometime—if only you possessed the skill to rise early.”

“Oy!” she snapped back, clearly irritated by her sister's teasing.

However, just as the sisters' playful banter was to escalate, their father gracefully entered the room. His presence commanded immediate attention. Warm greetings were exchanged, and the atmosphere shifted to one of familial harmony. It was during one of these conversations that the shipwreck, that had occurred only days prior, was brought up. Here, (Y/N)’s gaze snapped up.

"Why do you think they keep getting on ships if they keep getting caught in storms?" Rana questioned, her voice filled with genuine curiosity. "You would think they would learn from their mistakes, wouldn't they?"

Anahita nodded in agreement, her expression contemplative. "They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results."

Mareena chimed in, her tone tinged with a hint of bitterness. "They are quite disgusting, aren't they? Killing us for sport, and yet they willingly put themselves in harm's way for the same reasons."

However, (Y/N) decided to offer a different perspective, breaking the momentary silence that followed. "Well, actually," she began, her voice confident yet cautious. "They use ships to trade supplies with other land-dwellers."

All eyes shifted to (Y/N) with suspicion.

“Isn't that right, father?’ she quickly tacked on.

The tension in the room immediately dissipated as their father nodded in agreement. "Yes, that is true. They have established numerous trade routes, and ships are their means of transportation. It's a very different way of life compared to ours, and unfortunately, it has also led to numerous conflicts and wars between them. The desire for variety and resources has come at a great cost. They traded it for death.”

“How–how do you know all this father?” (Y/N) questioned timidly. “You say it as if you have spent time with them.”

The older merman let out a weary sigh, placing his shell filled with food down on the table. "I have," he admitted, his gaze filled with distant memories.

Instantly, the room fell into a stunned silence as all eyes fixated on their father, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.

“I have walked among them before and it was my greatest mistake.”

“You-you what?” Seria gapped.

“Among them?” Una blurted.

“But why would you want to do such a thing?!” Anahita inquired.

Their father's gaze turned solemn as he recounted his past. "Long before any of you were born, during the War of the Riptide, my father sent me to infiltrate the land-dwellers' realm. I lived among them, observing their ways, gathering their secrets. But it was a treacherous undertaking that nearly cost me my life.” He paused, tacking on an additional mumbling sentence: “Those eel fuckers."

A heavy silence enveloped the room, the weight of their father's revelation sinking in. Only the sound of their hearts pounding in their chests broke the stillness, each of them grappling with the newfound knowledge of their father's past—even more dangerous than they were led to believe.

“H–how did you walk among them, father? How did you get legs?” (Y/N) probed, though she knew she shouldn't have.

Their father's gaze turned dark and filled with years of pent-up anger and regret as he locked eyes with her. For a moment, she feared he wouldn't reveal the answer. However, he finally spoke, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness. "Some of us possess a rare gift. When our bodies are completely dry, void of any water upon our skin or tails, we have the ability to transform into a legged form."

Instantly, gasps and chatter sounded.

“My daughters–” he addressed, though they did not listen. “QUIET!!!”

Startled, the mermaid sisters fell silent, their wide-eyed gazes fixed on their father.

“It is a very rare gift—one that is almost never seen—and only passed by blood if the gods wish to curse you with it. It is the most dangerous gift to have. One drop of water on your skin when you have legs has your tail growing back in seconds. And then you are killed by those humans that bore witness.”

Shock dripped from the daughters of the king of the sea.

"But fear not," their father reassured them, his voice softening. "None of you possess this gift. I tested each of you when you were born."

Expressions of worry, relief, and confusion danced across their faces, but (Y/N) couldn't help but notice a peculiar look in their father's eyes—a gaze that lingered strangely upon her.

……

The following day brimmed with a mix of excitement and trepidation as (Y/N) patiently awaited Boromir's arrival at the entrance of Minas Tirith. Rising before the sun, she positioned herself by the riverside, her heart fluttering with anticipation.

To her surprise, Boromir emerged on a horse, his form clad steel. Silver plates of armor adorned his muscular frame, providing a formidable shield for his vital organs. His attire was decorated further with weapons forged from the finest metals, poised and ready to be unsheathed at the slightest hint of danger. She knew he was important.

Though, this newfound knowledge began to stir dread into her soul. Boromir was a soldier—not a sailor. He trained in the art of warfare and killing. If he had been born centuries earlier, he might have been among those who waged war against her kind. He could have one of the hunters who pursued her father. One of those…eel fuckers…as he had put it. Yet, (Y/N) reassured herself that Boromir was different. He valued life. He couldn't be like his ancestors.

(Y/N) followed him, along the river (as much as she could) as the hours stretched on. She watched as he navigated the city as if he knew every turn and every crevice. She observed as he conversed with the people, each one eager to speak to him. She perceived as he stood guard at the entrance of the city, until the sun had set and his shift was taken over by another. And she peered up at him as he ended his nights upon his balcony—only once hearing him speak to another, a brother she guessed, of a lingering feeling of being watched.

For three days, she partook in his routine.

For three days, she made it her own.

And, for three days, she learned all she could about him.

Yes, he was a soldier, but not just any soldier. He was the Captain of the Minas Tirith Guard. He was the son of the Steward, who was ruling in place of a king, for in these times of uncertainty, Boromir stepped forward to help his father protect and care for the city he held so dear. He bore the weight of leadership and responsibility, serving as a pillar of strength and guidance for his people. He was a good man—doing just as much work as the men he commanded.

It wasn't until the end of the third day, however, that Boromir deviated from his routine. Much to (Y/N)’s surprise, instead of going up the path towards the castle, he deviated to follow the river that went along the bend of the white palace wall.

(Y/N) swam deep below the surface beside him, slipping into the center of the pool as he went to the edge.

The Captain of the Guard sat down upon the sandy bank and began to untie his boots. The night was warmer than it had been, for winter had ended and spring was just beginning to break. So, she wasn't surprised, when he rolled up the bottoms of his trousers and stuck his feet in.

(Y/N)’s heart was pounding and her blood ran quickly, for she had never been so close to him since she held his unconscious, drowning form.

It was forbidden.

She watched for a while, as his face and body seemed to droop. The weight of his responsibilities and the burdens of his past seemed to bear down on him. The façade of strength and cheer that he wore for the world gradually faded away, revealing the vulnerability and weariness that lay beneath. Though it wasn't until a tear ran down his cheek that she truly began to worry. Was it the lingering aftermath of the shipwreck that haunted him? Did it have more of a permanent effect on him? It seemed as though the shadow of that dreadful event lingered deep within. She had urged him to embrace life—to survive. But this sadness…was it preventing him so?

Cautiously, she dug in her bag and pulled out the bone carving of the whale. Now was her chance. Maybe she could offer some comfort? Though, she knew she couldn't swim up and hand it to him, for he couldn't know that she was there—not yet, not now. She wouldn't risk her people being known to the land-folk. She wouldn’t endanger them. Her father would surely be furious at her if she did. Besides, if she were to rise now, she would give Boromir such a fright.

Therefore, taking a rock from the bottom of the pond, she positioned herself as close as she dared to Boromir. She ensured that she remained hidden beneath the water's surface, maintaining the delicate balance between proximity and secrecy. She then put her plan into action. She tossed the stone through the water, sending it up with a subtle splash, diverting Boromir's attention to the ripples created in its wake. As quick as a shark—if not quicker—(Y/N) flicked her tail hard. She rose close to the surface and lobbed the whale beside the man before plummeting down into the depths.

When Boromir’s head turned back, he noticed the little craving.

(Y/N) peered up as she watched his confused expression.

His brows pulled together and his lips parted. Cautiously, he picked it up. It fit in his palm quite nicely. Not too big, not too small. His fingers twisted around its delicate form with ease. He examined it, running the tip of his index finger along the length of the piece and his thumb brushing over the flippers. “Where did you come from?” he whispered with a smile.

Boromir stayed at the pond for nearly an hour, (Y/N) staying with him. His fingers aimlessly fiddling with the whale as he gazed up at the stars, taking time to breath—to live. And when he turned to leave, he took the whale with him.

…..

As the next two weeks passed on, (Y/N) adopted Boromir’s routine as a part of her own. Though not every day she could do as such, for her father and sisters began to notice her absence. So, in order to avoid their suspicion, there were stretches of time where she did not get to swim up to the Anduin River. Instead, she spent her hours wandering around her father’s palace, helping with mer-duties and daydreaming of the Captain of Gondor.

However, the days where she gilded upon the waters in Minas Tirith were the most exciting. Now that the weather was warm, the city truly came to life. Markets opened daily where food, drink, cloth, and trinkets were sold. If (Y/N) was lucky, one of such tents would open right beside the river. When no one was looking, she would reach a hand from the water and grab a thing or two. She had gotten to try some very interesting foods; however, she figured they would taste much better if she didn't plunge them into the salty river the second she got her hands on them. Alas, that was the cost of avoiding detection—a price she was willing to pay. (Y/N) also was able to snatch various little objects, but most of the time she didn't know what they were. She found herself wishing that she had received the gift that her father had—the gift of transformation to a legged form. She wanted to be where the land-folk were—where Boromir was.

The captain had begun to stay out later, going to the tavern with his friends here and there. On those nights, he would disappear inside, for hours, and (Y/N) would wait in the river for him to return—in whatever state he would be in. Some nights he would have smiles plastered across his face as he giddily stumbled home. Other nights it would be a solemn expression, a tear escaping here and there, as he swayed like the gentle tide. But the worst nights? Those were the ones that ended in screams from the balcony above the little pool. Nightmares now plagued Boromir’s mind, waking him up and coating him in fear—and sweat. The only relief would be the cold night’s air and the barely audible sound of (Y/N) voice. (Y/N) always knew when those nights had arrived, for they were the ones when his brother, Faramir, had to come to the tavern and get him. It was those nights when Boromir’s body folded and slumped against his brother’s, for Faramir would drape the captain’s arm over his shoulder and drag him back to the Minas Tirith castle. It was those nights when the man, that appeared so strong, would speak in sentences just as broken as he was. It was those nights when he spoke of the shipwreck, of the darkness, of the piece of his soul that went missing in the Black Sea. And just once—he whispered to his brother of her. The woman who saved him from the depths. Those nights—those hurt the most. Yet, despite all this, he carried the whale carving with him everywhere he went—on a string upon his neck.

But, now that the weather was warmer, Boromir came to the pond almost every night that he wasn’t at the tavern…and the nights at the tavern lessened. Here, he would contemplate the sadness and separation he seemed to now have, but it appeared that he had a sort of comfort by the little lake. This comfort may or may not have been another gift from (Y/N). When the captain would stick his feet into the water, the mermaid would hum to heal his heart. The vibrations, subtle they were, would filter through the lake and soak into his skin. As he was not immersed, he could not hear the beautiful sounds, but he would at least feel some of the rejuvenating property it held. It was something he had felt before upon the shore and something he continued to feel when the nightmares drove him to the balcony.

Today had proven to be an unusually scorching and grueling day for Boromir. The relentless sun beat down upon him, intensifying the already restless atmosphere among the people. Amidst the sweltering heat, he found himself engaged in a relentless pursuit of a thief who had attempted to snatch a coin pouch from the frail hands of an elderly woman. Luckily for the Captain, a little puddle of water mysteriously slithered out in-front of the thief, causing him to slip and allowing Boromir to arrest him.

Given that that activity, and more, took its toll upon the man of duty, Boromir found himself in the shelter of the tavern with the comfort of his friends. However, that appeared to not be enough, for that night Boromir left the tavern and wandered to the pond—(Y/N) slithering in the depths of the Anduin by his side.

Under the water on the lake, (Y/N) floated in the soft currant, her eyes closed and her humming drifting through the ripples. She was content and was hoping to bring some of that serenity to the man that was to put his feet in the pool. This, of course, explained why she was so startled when his entire body dove into the water. With eyes as wide as the full moon, (Y/N) twisted her form to stare in fear and alarm at the man that stripped to nothing but his undergarments and sunk only six feet across from her. But true terror did not hit her until Boromir’s eyes opened.

When those bright blue eyes met hers with just as much horror, if not more, he instantly scrambled backwards—her doing the same.

Maybe if they both had stopped to see just how scared the other was, they would have realized that they were not in danger; but instinct had taken over as they desperately tried to get away from each other.

Luckily enough, it appeared that they had not been alone. A large hand shot down from the surface and gripped upon Boromir’s arm. In seconds, he was pulled up and out of the water—gasping and fumbling upon the bank.

“What the hell, Boromir?!” the voice of Faramir sounded.

The Captain scrambled upon the sand and muddied land, backing away from the water frantically. “T-there w-was–down there, the water, Eru, d-down there—s-something. Mermaid.”

“Boromir, are you drunk?!” he snapped. “By the Valar—you are! Again?!”

“F-Faramir, there was-was a woman down there,” the captain murmured, struggling to stand.

His brother sighed in dismay as he grasped onto Boromir’s arm once more and helped him steady. “You have been having too many conversations with Iwar…and too many drinks.” He pulled upon the captain again. “Let’s get you in bed before you decide to go for another drunken swim.”

With that, Faramir helped dress his brother—just enough to get past the guards without embarrassing the intoxicated captain—and guided him home, trying to ignore the blubbering of the anxious mess he led.

(Y/N) stayed still at the bottom of the pond, shock baring her fins from any movement.

Well, damn. Fuck the Forbidden. It really bit her in the tail.

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rawliverandgoronspice · 3 months ago

Text

Gantober #4 - Seafoam

(Wind Waker, Ganondorf & Beedle, non-graphic violence)

Tearing himself off a broken seal, Ganondorf discovers his homeland disfigured by an endless sea —and a stranger calling it home willing to help.

(Full disclosure: I'm flying off the seat of me poorly remembering my decade-old Wind Waker walkthrough and details gleaned back on vague research I did over a year ago, so I do apologize for any dubiously canon choices made here)

---

Ganondorf had waged wars larger than the sky. He had crushed skulls under his boot as an afterthought. He had basked in roaring infernos, found comfort in the musk of old blood. Even his own torment, either while sealed beyond reality or when his body had twisted to unnatural shapes from his restless abuse of Power, he had grown to rely upon as something expected —and therefore, under his control.

But there he stood, stranded on a mere constellation of sand in the middle of the night, staring on and on at the black sea surrounding him from all sides.

And nothing seemed to stomp his rising horror.

Salt. He didn’t mind salt, usually. Here, it was dizzying. A wound in the earth. A wound where Hyrule —his Hyrule— used to be. Water had swallowed all of it. In the darkest depths of the sea, there lied his castle, his hard-earned victories, the villages he sacked and those erected in their place by the monsters serving him. He may have broken the seal forced upon him, but his entire life slumbered down the abyss. For how long did he drift, outside of time and space? There was nothing left but salt. Angry froth surrounding him from all sides. The Goddesses did not care for what they once called holy. What was there even to yearn for anymore, beyond wreckage and mud?

The infernos had all drowned. Even he was now drenched and cold; his ageless bones incapable of resisting neither the waves or the rain.

He did not notice the boat that beached nearby until it was too late, and it took its sailor two attempts to finally catch his attention.

“All good sir?”

Ganondorf tore his eyes from the shore. The man who screamed at him from the deck was a stickbug of a hylian, with a horrendous bowl cut and a drooping pink nose. His sunkissed, freckled skin shivered under the tremors of a coming storm, but still: he smiled, with concern. “Not to assume nothin’, but it’s a sad old place to be shipwrecked if you ask me!”

Hands on hips, face open, eager to help. Obviously clueless as to who he was.

Nobody had stared at Ganondorf that way in hundreds of years.

He considered killing the straggler and taking his embarkation for himself. Faster, easier. But of all the many skills the gerudo king had perfected during his unnaturally long life, sailing had never even crossed his mind as something worth his attention. And the thought of trying to keep this poorly wielded rotting wood afloat in a storm, hands coarse with ropes he couldn’t make sense of above miles upon miles of this terrible salt water that wanted him back in the dark... A sharp pang of hatred seared down his throat. The Goddesses must be finding his predicament oh so hilarious.

The stranger, named Beedle, made what room he could for him on his bark; but said bark was tiny, and Ganondorf could only fit against the wall of the inner cabin, stuck between crates of food and heaps of arrows. A ceiling lamp swung above his head followed by a swarm of eager moths, threatening to set his forehead on fire. The hylian’s sunny disposition dimmed somewhat after Ganondorf’s pointed silence and lack of outward thanks for all this effort, but he still refused to let it die entirely and carried the conversation for them both.

“Hoping my humble abode can be a welcome shelter for the time being, my good sir.” Good sir. Ganondorf bit his tongue not to emote. “Please don’t be shy around my wares as well! If something catches your eye, I’m sure we can agree to somethin’ or another!” The hylian’s eye nicked at his jewelry, barely attempting to be subtle. “It’s rare to see folks as fancy as you in these parts. It’s the pirates, you see. I suppose it’s them who gave you trouble?”

Ganondorf evaded the too-intense gaze of the merchant. Of course, in this sparse flooded world, information would be as precious as rupees. He elected to be as greedy as he could in this particular department.

“I simply… got lost,” he muttered.

His voice was rough, ancient, looming. He didn’t sound like the way he remembered. The small hylian tensed and nodded, with a frown deep enough to suggest he was growing less worried about his guest and more about himself. Thunder crashed outside. A large wave rolled under the planks at their feet; the boat croaked, almost organically. Ganondorf shivered.

“Welp. Happens to the best of us I guess!” The owner scratched his bare stomach, his best efforts at joy dipping into nervousness. “Where are you going then? I can drop you off to any place that’s on my usual route!”

Ganondorf clenched his jaw. He had no good answer to this question. He didn’t know anything about this strange new world. Didn’t recognize anything. Where were they, right now? Above which landmark he could still perfectly recall in his mind, lively and luscious, sprawling under the indulgent sun of Hyrule?

“I… I don’t…”

He caught himself, this disgusting vulnerability in that shredded voice, before it could spill out fully. Anger smothered him instead; then something more painful, akin to the jagged cuts of weapons somehow lodged even deeper than flesh. He thought of gutting the pleasant man, right here and now. Take him apart limb from limb among all these goods and produce Ganondorf had never seen before. But the storm raged outside —and to be stuck there, in this claustrophobic cabin, waiting to be toppled over and drowned once again…

“Y-You know what?” Beedle proposed, hands joined, helpful in a way that neared pity. “I can take you to Windfall Island! It’s the biggest port around, and I’m sure you’ll find someone there who can help you out. You seem a little…” He swallowed. “A little... out of it, sir.”

His skin crawled. That idiot would strand him on an island full of hylians, chipper and knowledgeable and unbearably alive.

“No,” Ganondorf grunted. “Take me… Take me somewhere quiet, and near. Someplace with solid land.”

The hylian cocked his head.

“I’m not quite sure about that plan, sir. There’s a Fortress close-by, sir, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. The waters are full of pirates. It’s not safe here! They’d capture you in a heartbeat, and oh!” The poor little man deflated, rubbing his bare arms, as if to ward off his own imagination. “They’d have ways to make you spill where the rest of your fancy gold is hidden, sir!”

Ganondorf couldn’t help his snickering. His right hand burned quietly under the full length of his sleeves. “A fortress, you say?”

“Horrible place! Dreadful place! They’ve stolen from me before, the vultures!”

“Take me there.”

Beedle’s eyes and mouth drew the shape of three perfect circles.

“Sir!” He squealed, red with offense. “No amount of rupee in the world could convince me to go there! I’ll never risk my wares, my very life…”

“Where I come from, merchants know to take risks when it matters,” Ganondorf said. And that much was true. Gerudo merchants had saved his kingdom countless times over before he was old enough to wield a sword himself. Not all of them returned home alive.

“And why on earth would it matter to me?!” Beedle crossed his arms, outraged. “They’ll shot my poor boat on sight! So whatever you could offer me in exchange…”

“You’re assuming I will let you refuse.”

Silence, if not for the roar of the sea.

The hylian’s eyes were large and misty, his knees threatening to give. “Sir…” He wailed, crumbling on himself, even tinier than before. “I rescued you.”

“And I am not ungrateful,” Ganondorf smiled. “Yet.”

The merchant sniffled and muttered under his breath the entire way, but it didn’t take much more than a few hours for Ganondorf to see the silhouette of a large structure overtaking the stormy horizon. Beedle tried not to cry as he slalomed through the coves and razor-sharp stones, knowing himself watched, both by his guest and the pirates outside surely well aware of their presence. Ganondorf considered telling him they would be safe from cannon fire no matter what, but decided to keep his magical prowess undisclosed for as long as he could. He simply didn’t know enough about the rules of this new world to fashion a reputation for himself yet. Dreadful outcasts with a penchant for knives and thievery, however? A consequence-less trying ground.

An anchor, in so many ways.

They weren’t prevented from boarding the pier, but were awaited right outside. The vicious wind swashed buckets of sea water over a collection of armed silhouettes, staring at the humble bark with open distrust and slight bafflement. Ganondorf eyed over each of them. About twenty, that he could see. All of them with pointy ears, safe for the two gorons in the back. Brown hair, blonde hair, white hair.

All of them men.

Ganondorf refused to give room to the childish hope within withering into something cold and empty, and advanced towards the line. Beedle made a whimpering sound behind him.

“That’s close enough I’d say.”

A man cut through the pirates and stepped forth. The bulky kind, bald-headed and scarred, with one golden tooth sharpened far past what most would think reasonable. He towered over his crew, but barely reached Ganondorf’s shoulder. He nodded towards the cowering merchant behind his back.

“Must have given that lad his weight in rupees to convince him to sail here. We have history, don’t we Beedle?”

The crew laughed, and the poor hylian was but half a breath from sobbing openly.

“I hear you’re the terror of the sea,” Ganondorf noted.

The man puffed his chest. “Aye we are. So what made you think it was a good idea to come check for yourself? Want to donate to the cause?” Every pirate openly eyed at the large jewels adorning his fine robes. Gerudo craftsmanship had always stirred outsiders’ imagination, even back when cultural context hadn’t been completely lost to the waves.

Ganondorf crossed his arms. “I suppose it depends on the cause.”

The pirate chief laughed, a bit too loud to be believable as effortless contempt. His stance was ever-slightly defensive. Ganondorf was being seized up, and correctly identified as a threat.

“Our cause?! Get richer than the lost kingdom through other people’s honest work! I didn’t think it would need clarification!” Another step closer, one that felt like bravado. The man held up an open palm that missed half a finger. “So how are you willing to contribute?”

Ganondorf didn’t bother moving. He stared deep into the washed-out green eyes of the pathetically wet hylian in front of him. Small threats. Threats of no ambition. This was all the Goddesses could handle, and not a single thing worse: mediocre hylians, content with their lackluster lot, fearlessly cruel in the pettiest of ways.

He shook his head, giving the surroundings a good look instead of paying the captain undeserved attention. Crows cackled above their head, and bigger birds seems to nest in the cliffs. Hard to navigate, tall and angry, strong against the storm, unpleasant to be around.

Suitable.

“I quite enjoy this island,” Ganondorf declared at last. “As for you, terror of the sea… You can all stay here and serve my cause, or you can take your leave right away.”

Some man in the back thought it was a joke and laughed; but the humor died down soon enough. Exclamations bubbled through the assembled crew like a fit of bad coughs, growing in intensity. Beedle hid his face in his hands, terrified, and muttered a prayer.

“What did you say?!” The captain belched out. “Are you out of your mind—who the hell do you think you are?!”

A younger version of himself would have used the opportunity to brag, just to feel the kick of his own resolve; a promise muttered back to himself. But Ganondorf was far past reassurance now.

“Or you can all watch each other die if you prefer,” Ganondorf added, with the familiar coldness that preceded his worst slaughters.

That was too much for the poor merchant. Abandoning all reason, the little hylian skedaddled back to his boat with a high pitch sound of distress. Smart move. The pirates were all focused on the actual danger, and Ganondorf would have disliked letting a survivor bear witness to the worst of what he could do. Now was not the time. And, after all, he had no reason to be ungrateful and needlessly destructive. Not everything had to end up in blood, he supposed. Violence was a lesson he’d have to unlearn soon if we was to re-adapt to this new, brutal reality.

But as of now…

“We’ll knock some sense back into you, old man!” the man spat out—old man? Ganondorf wasn’t sure he appreciated being perceived as frail and weary; those feelings were supposed to be private. But the captain didn’t seem to realize his overstep and unsheathed a crude saber to his face. “Everyone with me!”

They all attacked at once, swords drawn and eager.

Ganondorf grinned. Twin blades slotted into his waiting hands.

That simple joy, of all joys dead and gone, the Goddesses had yet to take from him.

The slaughter was over before it started. The pirates were even worse off than he feared. None of them would have survived the wars he had waged centuries prior. In this barren world of salt and greedy water, plunderers were weak and arrogant, and lonely travelers trusted so easily. The deluge didn’t even select the worthiest to carry on this accursed future.

Leaning from the highest balcony he could find, Ganondorf stared at a much quieter sea. Dawn brushed over the crests of wave in pinks and golds and green. Seagulls, crows and even angrier birds screamed their delight in the fierce offshore wind. Far in the distance, he could distinguish the shape of Beedle’s bark, fast escaping the trail of blood left behind. Ganondorf was taken by a vague need to acknowledge what this man had done for him, this thankless mercy drenched in unfair retribution. Do something just, perhaps. Sort the stolen goods and restore what once belonged to him. Make his effort worth something... but already, so soon, the little dot tipped over the foam and disappeared from view entirely.

The waves covered its tracks, and Ganondorf was alone.

He closed his eyes, allowing the sun to trick him into unguarded longing. But that couldn’t last. He couldn’t afford rest. He couldn’t afford peace. This was how the Goddesses had lured everyone else into accepting this; the smallness of letting oneself drift; an existence happily unmoored. That wasteland. That living wound they all called home.

Ganondorf turned away from the horizon, the sun, the wind, runaway boats with small cargo and far greater fears. The Triforce of Power scorched his blood-splattered hand. Ganondorf focused on the pain until it devoured everything else; and then, only then, could he start to think with regained dignity about the arduous path to triumph.

#gantober #ganondorf #beedle #ww ganondorf #wind waker #fanfiction #my writing #I have barely reread this!!! but I had fun #grumpy old sorcerer shaking his fist going “back in my dayyyy we waged REAL wars not like those lazy ambitionless sea dwellers!!!”#sure grandpa let's get you to bed now <3 #this one might also end up on Ao3 but I'm not sure if I put it on a separate fic or in a Gantober compilation #anyway! wind wakeyy #yo-ho-ho pirates and shit #(side note but: ganondorf being lowkey afraid of the ocean/fixating on drowning is a bit of a weakness of mine!! so ye)#(I do like making bad things even worse for him u_u I admit to this sin)

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spectral-devotee · 6 days ago

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Cross-posted from my AO3 fic

Link to Chapter 02

Word count: 3,280

Birds of a feather

Summary:

A fic following Viktor’s arrival to the University of Piltover after Doctor Heimerdinger offers him a job as his assistant.

As required by the Piltovian bureaucracy, some paperwork is inevitable (honestly somewhat unnecessary too). During a medical check-up Viktor discovers he is an Alpha and starts a treatment meant to help his overall health improve. Meanwhile two students in the Engineering and Architecture schools are making a name for themselves. Will they come to meet Viktor at the perfect time to make his whole life change for the better?

Jayce and Eda (Reader) team up to join the Distinguished Innovators Competition in hopes of creating a better world when an explosion in Jayce’s workshop turns their world upside down. Jayce is expelled and Eda’s political ideas sit badly with the council members. They both need someone to hold them together and help them make their Hextech dreams come true. A certain assistant is up to the task, though.

Notes:

Hiii! Long time lurker first time poster. Sorry in advance, english isn't my first language so I had to investigate many academic terms. Feel free to correct me if you see anything too weird in that regard.

This first chapter is very Viktor-centric, but I will try to mix it up throughout this work. 3rd and 2nd POV bc it’s easierrrr lol. Also, I intended to make Reader just fit in the story with no alterations to the base material, but ended up accidentally making her Salo’s half-sister and giving her way too much backstory to not do anything with it.

No use of y/n bc it takes me out of it, the name Eda is given to Reader. Get it? reADEr = EDA. I know, brilliant. AFAB pronouns and anatomy for my bby girl, but other than that no further descriptions of Reader’s body will be given

I started this fic before season 2 started airing + I have a really bad memory so many details may be off until further editing.

Yes I love myself some self-shipping ABO, it adds to the flavor (It is also a great excuse to write lots of physical contact for my boys, they need a hug or two)

Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated!

Chapter 01: Where Viktor's life started to change

Nothing had ever belonged to Viktor, not really, not completely. As a child one could make the case that his clothes or toys would be of his ownership, but Viktor always saw them as hand-me-downs in the best scenario, but he had no ill-will against his parents or his siblings in that regard. His parents had been too busy trying to keep their family afloat in Zaun’s sea of misery even before he was born. Too many mouths to feed, too little food to go around. He was glad they even tried to make something out of their situation, even if only he had a chance to get out of the depths.

Viktor turns to look at his bedside table. The clock reads 3 am, far too early to wake up yet. He sighs. It’s not often that he stays still in his bed while not plagued with insomnia.

It’s those nights where he lets himself remember his life before Piltover.

He remembers many children coming and going in the little community along the contaminated lake he used to call home. He knew some names, his siblings particularly, the others he tried to guess right. He’s not sure how many they were let him forget how many people he saw die due to the polluted waters, the only thing he’s sure of is that was the youngest amongst them. When the time came for his scent and denomination to show, the other children would make comments on his very faint cinnamon smell, nothing worth mulling over.

Only a few years prior his mother became very ill due to an undiagnosed loss of mobility, most likely a result of many years in poor living conditions. After she died, his father became a sight less and less prominent around the house, leaving him and his siblings to fend for themselves, admittedly not unusual in Zaun. What little food he got was thanks to his sisters, the clothes he shared were his older brother’s. Viktor knows some toys were stolen from unsuspecting pilties, though he prides himself in the modifications he made to them at such a young age.

Just then the alarm sounds and Viktor opens his eyes to see the weak rays of sunlight seeping through the curtains. The almost sterile room stares back at him, the papers scattered along the floor the only hint of his stay aside from the bed he was currently occupying.

The school administrators had given him a temporary permit for a house close to the Academy in the Masters’ villa, a place reserved for the school’s staff to live in. As one would guess, it’s a single floor house with a living room, kitchenette, bathroom, and bedroom.

All the furniture is still arranged exactly as it was given to him, a small sofa next to an empty shelf in the living, a closet full with ironed uniforms in his room area, a personal bathroom complete with a tub and a mirror, a vanity where he kept most of his medicines, and finally a corner to the very back of his room intended for nesting. It’s not his to dispose of, he thinks; four days is all too soon to even attempt to make a nest. He won’t even consider it until his legal academic situation is secure.

The news on his applications to different scholarships are pending. Accommodation, a salary of sorts according to the position of assistant, and his complete medical record are a few of the things he is currently taking care of. Heimerdinger has told him multiple times his stay in the University of Piltover is stable, that there is no need to keep acting frugal. Still, there’s something inside his mind that won’t let him relax and enjoy his new “home”.

Whatever is left of his cinnamon and oakwood scent is lost to the vastness of the empty space and he starts his morning routine. Delicate fingers grab the cane next to his bed and he proceeds to the bathroom where he stands as tall as he can while looking at his reflection in the mirror. He takes note of the scars and bruises left in that leg. With better conditions in his living quarters came less damage done by accident, not to his surprise.

He took a few pills and washed them down his throat with tap water. One is for the pain, another is for the stress, the third is for the coughs he is prone to.

The fourth pill is the one he is hesitant about.

Whenever Heimerdinger found him and offered to accept him as his assistant, he was sure to take Viktor to a (well-needed) full-body medical checkup as one of the enormous amount of requirements the academy has.

The Piltovian doctors informed him of some things he already knew, or at least expected: his leg was in terrible condition due to the many years unattended, and he would need to use several orthopedic appliances as his condition advanced.

Some other things he found out right then and there, for example: turns out he is an alpha, and his previous intake of unprescribed, questionable-at-best, and (sometimes) down right illegal remedies were taking a heavy toll on his body, and most importantly, his endocrine system. The beta doctor prescribed him with lighter-use suppressants while his body adapted to the dosage and everything settled down.

To be fair this would have not been that great of an issue had he been a beta, as he thought himself to be. The intake of various medicines was a way to make his body able to navigate the undercity, helping his eyes and lungs adapt better to the polluted air. Unbeknownst to him, it was also the reason why he never presented the usual symptoms of an Alpha in the making.

The usual characteristics of an Alpha were lost to him: he wasn’t tall nor strong, maybe somewhat protective, but not enough to ring any bells. Comparatively, he was almost scent-less, he didn’t go through any heats, nor any ruts. Even if his libido was slightly higher than Betas his age, a knot was not visible.

Today happened to be the first day of a several-year plan where Viktor would try out decreasing doses of suppressants meant to aid his body adapt to normal rut cycles. One of the doctors insisted on this treatment due to the success in alphas that seeked to form a pack. He made sure to make his annoyance clear to the doctors, insisting that he did not, in fact, seek to form a pack, but they assured him this was an imperative step for his overall health either way. His body needed to experience a rut at least once to get his glands to make the vital hormones a healthy alpha would normally produce on its own. They only managed to fully convince him when they mentioned this could be the solution to his mobility problem.

And so, now Viktor pondered downing the usual fourth pill. On one hand this would set back the inevitable process of correcting his hormones (maybe until the end of the semester came, and he would be able to barricade himself in his room for months on end). On the other hand, he desperately wanted this whole treatment to be over with as soon as possible.

Finally he decided to throw the remaining pill down his throat.

Better not regret it now.

…

As Viktor walks down the main hall he glances over the school’s notice board. The new additions to the student body are displayed, a way to tell the current students “See them? They will be your competition”, he thinks.

Just as he expected, all Piltolvians, though he is almost sure a former Zaunite around his age should be in the Physics program. Nevermind, there are also a couple of exchange students. The results are shown according to their school of choice.

Architecture, Chemistry and Engineering are shown to the far left, Industrial Design is almost to the middle, Physics is closer to the right. The other schools, he must admit, are not of his particular interest.

One of the things Viktor finds amusing about the Piltovian culture are the casual displays of power they have ingrained in their minds. In this case he notices some names accompanied by a crest. This, as it seems, means the students are from a certain family or that a member from said family is their patron. The Kirammans, some of Piltover’s wealthiest, have decided to sponsor an aspiring engineer from the House of Talis, for example. He takes note of some names, but continues along his way.

A few minutes later he finds himself in front of Dr. Heimerdinger’s door. Viktor takes the brass doorknob and knocks two times before Heimerdinger’s voice calls him from inside “Viktor, my boy. You got here earlier than I expected!” Viktor stands awkwardly looking at the clocktower through the hall window. It is, in fact, too early. Thirty seven minutes early to be precise. “Please, do come in. I’m making tea, would you care for a cup?”. Viktor steps in and closes the door behind him “Yes, if you don’t mind. Thank you, professor”

Heimerdinger’s head suddenly popped through the kitchenette’s doorway “Oh, do sit down, it will take just a minute”. Viktor took a minute to take a closer look at Cecil's abode. Every piece of furniture looked handmade to his size, from the loveseat to the stairs connected to the bookshelves.

The only chair available for Viktor’s… measurements was a wooden chair which he promptly took place in. Soon the distinct sound of a kettle full of boiling water came from the kitchen and Heimerdinger came to the living carrying a small tray with two cups and some pastries.

“Looking at you, I can only imagine you haven’t even grabbed a bite before coming here. As much as us scientists see ourselves as machines that could go on forever working, experimenting and researching, we still do need fuel. Please, take this” Cecil put some cookies and a piece of carrot cake on a plate before pushing it towards Viktor, who quickly grabbed a fork and started eating a single bite without giving him a concrete answer, clearly indicating he was right on his assessment.

Dr. Heimerdinger takes a cookie to his mouth and expects Viktor to continue eating too. Alas, Viktor takes out some papers from his bag and starts going over the themes he came to discuss. “Doctor, I was hoping to go over the syllabus before the first day to make myself familiar with the contents. Now, here it states there you will explain the generalities of-”

“Oh, Viktor. Often the mind wanders, escaping from our grasp before our own eyes and leaving us in great distress while blind. You needn’t worry, my boy. You are nervous, it is to be expected, after all, it’s your first unofficial day at the Academy.”

“Unofficial?”

“Ah, yes, I did mean to tell you before. You see, the Academic team has favored you. The contrary would be unthinkable, you make a formidable addition. Yet, it seems an intangible enemy has made its presence clear: the lack of official papers regarding your citizenship, licenses and curriculum do make it hard for the administrators to be 100% behind your arrival”

“What does that mean? Am I not going to be able to be your assistant?”

“Quite the contrary. It means it will be your chance to demonstrate your capacities. It is, as some would say, your time to shine”

“Under what conditions am I expected to prove my worth?”

“Your worth is not to be tested, it is only a matter of simple bureaucracy. Always the extremes with you young people! You see, other academics and I have come to an agreement: you will present some tests. Ten to be exact. Each one represents a semester at the Academy and each of them will include all the contents seen within your school of choice. Now, I know you are very capable, in various subjects, but we would prefer if you were to select only one title to carry for now. Will it be Physics, Chemistry, Maths, Engineering or are you going to surprise me by choosing to be a Biopharmaceutical Scientist?”

“Oh”

“Maybe later you could sign up for the Masters program, it wouldn’t be too far from your capacities now, would it?”

“Not at all professor”

“I’ll leave you to think about it, but be sure to get back to me as soon as possible. Now we should get going before all the alumni start suspecting this will be an easy class just because the professors arrived late on the first day!”

“Of course”

They continued going over the syllabus. As expected, Viktor made a few observations on Heimerdinger’s grading system, activities for the students and new sources the professor would most likely need to mention.

Cecil couldn't help but be impressed by the dedication his new assistant showed. He wished Viktor could become a professor himself right then and there. That is until class began and he saw Viktor become a whole new person. Where there was a soft spoken boy, now stood a very strict man ready to personally fail anyone who didn’t take the class seriously. Some students cowered in fear while others began taking notes on every word that came out of his mouth.

Yes, the boy would need some time before he was ready to become a professor.

…

By now they had only one more lecture left. The morning had flown by them with all the hush and haste typical of the first day of school. While waiting for their last class, Viktor and Heimerdinger decided to admire the landscape from his office. The sun bathed Piltover’s building in glorious golden light.

“Sir, I have chosen my answer regarding what we discussed earlier”

Heimerdinger turned to look at Viktor “What wonderful news, I knew you would be fast to decide on this tumultuous yet delightful path. What will it be?”

“I think-”

Just then an explosion rang far in the distance and the enforcer’s sirens blared throughout Piltover. The previous shimmer of the city now dulled with ashes. Noise began blaring from the border.

Grey clouds started flooding the bridge, a clear sign of deep trouble in the cross between Piltover and Zaun.

Before either of them could react in any way other than shock, a flock of enforcers started making their way through the main streets in calculated fashion. Though it was hard to make out from so far away, Viktor was sure the bridge was flooded with Zaunites. Was this some sort of uprising?

Both of them came back to it. Immediately the professor ran to the speaker device connected to the amplifiers scattered all around the Academy.

“Dear students, there seems to be an unspecified phenomenon currently developing in the bridge to Zaun. Do not get out of school grounds until further notice. I repeat. Do not get out of school grounds. You are safe here. Do not run, the enforcers are on their way to assist”

…

Viktor expected a tiresome day full of classes, meetings, and running errands for Dr. Heimerdinger. To a certain extent this came true, he was tired, very tired. They had only one class left before they had to call off the day and, while the meeting was postponed, he did run many errands for the professor. What he didn’t expect was the armed uprising and nigh siege he endured in his first day as an assistant.

The battle in the bridge lasted for about twelve continuous hours, he thought the Zaunites would have won by the sixth, they have a great advantage in numbers alone. Even then numbers and weapons aren’t everything, he supposes.

Reports popped all over the place. The casualties of Piltovian civilians and enforcers kept rising by the minute. Viktor would need to ask around for the Zaunite casualties. Even if the exact number was impossible to estimate correctly, he had to know. Admittedly, asking for names would be too much. He was too afraid to hear the names of the deceased in case he knew one, or more, of them.

The streets were closed off several hours after the attack. Most government and academic buildings not essential for the armed forces were turned into temporary shelters for the affected civilians. Mainly the not-so-wealthy Piltovians.

There was one thing that Viktor found strange, but would never dare to say. It seemed like the enforcers were aware of the Zaunites movements before they acted and strategized accordingly. How else could one describe their precision when the Zaunites moved through the secret passages in the city? That was certainly not luck.

A whistleblower among the people of Zaun would be unthinkable, but then again, not completely out of the realm of possibilities.

The other council members were quick to do damage control, assuring everyone the battle had ended for good and no big losses had been noted, quite the contrary. In another feat of Piltovian culture, the council members would usually give good news to reduce the blow any given disruption made in their perfect little society.

In this case they were fast to announce the recovery of the long lost daughter of Xade, the female Alpha head to the House of deMarquis and fellow council member. Very few details were given, apparently she was being held hostage by her Omega Zaunite father as a way to blackmail councilman Xade for money. The girl was recovered during an investigation at the Entresol level, the same level of Zaun Viktor was born in. In his opinion this was nothing more than propaganda designed to make Piltovians hold a grudge against Zaunites, splitting them even further apart.

Viktor couldn’t help but scoff at that. Lives were lost. People on both sides had died. Could no one else see the unfairness of the situation? A daughter was found, many others would never be seen again.

…

Dr. Heimerdinnger had many obligations to tend to as the Dean before he could go back to his quarters. Ensuring the safety of all students and school staff was a priority, but the public announcements were a close second. Reassuring the parents, patrons or patron parents was a whole other show Viktor was not sure he wanted to take part in, even if it was his job to do so.

By the time it was all over, it was either deep in the night or very early in the morning.

“Well, Viktor, what an… eventful first day you’ve had. Worry not, tomorrow, or should I say today, will be a rather unremarkable day compared to… Oh, what am I even saying? Avoiding the situation often lights the flame rather than dull it. The horrors of war can never be avoided, that I know, although the frictions between the districts is undeniable I believe peace can be achieved”

“I do too” Viktor turned to face his superior

“We will see through this situation in the blink of an eye, the wind rises and so must we. I will see you in a while, and I expect you to be as vigilant as you were today”

Viktor was almost sure the professor fervently needed sleep, yet he couldn’t deny the hopeful smile that threatened to appear through his own lips.

“Actually, sir, before we part I wanted to tell you what I want to study, if that’s alright”

“Of course, what will you choose?”

“Engineering suits me”

“Very well, I will talk to the others as soon as possible. Rest well, Viktor”

#viktor x reader #jayce x reader #reader insert #no use of y/n #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #Pekkwrites

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beyourownanchor6 · 2 years ago

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fic rec friday

thanks for creating this @spotsandsocks 🥰 and to all my loves for the tags @prince-buck-diaz @heartbeatdiaz @buddierights @monsterrae1 🩵

—give us the links to your wonderful words with the Most hits/Most kudos/Most comments/Most bookmarks /Most words/Least words

**army eddie was taking everything so i did some runner ups 😂**

most hits: if i lay here, would you lie with me (forget the world) —The one where Eddie’s in the army, Shannon gives up her rights to Chris, and Eddie needs a babysitter. Good thing Lena knows Buck, the guy having nothing better to do than help babysit until Eddie gets back. Eddie would come home, and he would leave; it wasn’t like they were going to build some lifetime friendship or anything.

most kudos: nobody can do everything— It's parent/teacher night, Eddie having brought Carla along to help him navigate through the vast school. Most of the teachers are unmemorable, save for the pretty English teacher, though she isn't the one that keeps his attention. No, that would be the one with blue eyes, the one his son is always talking about.

most comments: the holiday calendar —Buck ends up with an advent calendar during the start of the holiday season. He thinks it's possessed and out to ruin his life, the toys inside continually leading him to some doe-eyed beauty and his adorable son. Featuring best sister Maddie, and all the Uncle-Buck fluff we've been snubbed of.

most bookmarks: i want to love you (but i don't know how)— Buck buys him and Eddie touch bracelets, not wanting either of them to feel disconnected after Eddie leaves. They help, but the real thing is still better.

most words: changing tides—Buck had been drowning for as long as he could remember, never quite reaching the surface before being sucked back down, lost in the waves once more. He’d taken too many wrong turns, swam oceans he’d had no business swimming, all of them leading him farther away from home. He didn’t know how to get from where he was, to where he needed to be. The ocean was vast, Buck barely able to stay afloat. He was determined; never gave up. Fighting the currents was the easy part; it was keeping them at bay that gave Buck difficulty. He needed something he could tether himself to, something like an anchor—a person that wouldn’t let him wash away and fade out to sea. He needed someone like Eddie. (aka coastlines bucks version)

least words: mornings with you—A soft morning between our soft boys

tagging: @redlightsandicedtea @justsmilestuffhappens @loveyourownsmiilee @onward--upward @honestlydarkprincess @barbiediaz @zainclaw @eddiesbicowboy @djdangerlove @wh0re-behavi0r @jacksadventuresinwriting @alyxmastershipper @elvensorceress @ronordmann @panbuckley @spaceprincessem

#buddie #buddie fics #fic rec friday #army!eddie/babysitter!buck au #was dominating here #😂#tried to throw in some others #i just did this for buddie #since i know that’s why most of y’all are here #🤗

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sophiesephy · 2 years ago

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Twisted Wonderland Oneshots: Fireworks

Jade Leech x Yuu One Shot

Title: Fireworks

( A short fic I wrote out of random whim. Apologies if its too short)

-----

For someone who spent most of his life in water and never have danced, his legs were the most graceful in dancing. He swayed Yuu before remembering he had a surprise for her.

Leading her out of the crowd, Jade never let go of her hand in anticipation of the surprise.

"I hope the view is to your liking"

You've only heard of the glimmers of the sea creatures when in water from Rook but it was the first time you've seen it when Jade dipped himself into water.

"I promise I'll hold you and never let you sink. Fufu even though that would be an amusing sight but I promise I'll keep you mostly on the water's surface. "

You pursed your lips at his insertion of a joke and kept your hands clasped to your chest.

"I promise I'll never let you drown" The softness of his voice calms you like a siren spell and you felt his hands take yours. "I really do. "

Ever the gentleman he was, he guided you to the water with his hands still not letting go of yours. Your breath hitched upon feeling the water's level reaching your chest and higher. Immediately, Jade wrapped his arm around your waist while in his merform before your body could go deeper.

"The face you make is alluringly adorable when scared around water but rest assured I'll hold you always. "

It was not just your face but the way your arms clambered on him for safety that he found adorable.

"I already followed you to the water, are you happy already seeing me scared. ",

"While that is adorable, it was not my intention to scare you. I apologize for that. I hope the view tonight would suffice. "

"J-Just don't let me go. I can't swim. " her voice shook with every word.

Yuu may have her eyes closed but she felt Jade move in the water, hearing the gentle waves until she felt her feet could no longer touch any ground or sand. It was terrifying now she was away from land and all she could do was trust him.

They were already somewhere deep but Jade kept his promise. His arms remained to hold her.

" I know this sight is not anything new to you humans but when Floyd and I were kids we loved to swim to the surface just to enjoy things on land. Just to see… This"

Yuu did not know who those voices belonged to but in the distance she could hear a crowd count down 'Four… Three .. Two… One.'

The human eye is fascinating in its ability to still sense light even closed, just as Yuu felt when she heard a familiar crackling sound in the sky that made her slowly look up.

Wide-eyed, she no longer hid her face on the merman's shoulder upon the sight of blooming fireworks.

The way their sparks spread on the expanse of the night sky.

Any protestations in her heart silenced as both Jade and Yuu's faces were illuminated by the fireworks.

There were cheers from the distance but Yuu's ears were only filled by the crackling of fireworks as if everything else was muted and she leaned her temples on Jade's shoulder.

".... Thank you.. " was all Yuu could utter. She has seen fireworks but never like this.

"No… Its me who should be saying thank you. "

"Wait why? I'm the one who complained and was ungrateful that I survived another year. I said being alive for another year was a mistake. That I should have just drowned in this very same waters"

"Thats why I said I'm thankful. Thankful that you are still alive and still with me here. " Jade responded softly.

They were so distracted by the fireworks, Yuu didn't notice her arms were still looped around Jade's neck as they stayed afloat there watching the show in the sky. All her initial fears of the water vanished.

Upon finally noticing their closeness, Yuu quietly asked. "Can you put me back on the boat?" and he obeyed.

He helped her move towards the boat and hefted her up so she would be above water. Yuu found her nerves relax being in the grasp of safety once more. She was wrapped snugly in a towel that hugged her small shivering body.

"Thank you… Again.. " she told him softly.

"Of...Course.. It is my honor." Jade still was in the water as he rested his arms against the boat's side looking at Yuu with the same fondness he would have with his terrariums like he is looking at land for the first time. Golden were Yuu's eyes as light of the fireworks reflected in them. He could not look away from the fireworks before when he and Floyd would swim to the surface to see them.

But now he could no longer look away from the face of the human in front of him. She knew nothing of his world yet she wasn't afraid of him.

As the world on the surface was entrancing to him, the human entranced him more. It gave him this subconscious urge. The kind that made his gaze move from her eyes to her lips. How plush and pink they were.

'I could not grasp this feeling but why am I…' despite being a merman, it was so human, he could not stop his own head from leaning forward, feeling his face slowly move towards her, eyes closing.When Yuu saw his movement, it was like his siren like lips beckoned her to lean towards him and close her eyes just as he did.

The fireworks bursting in the sky was muffled as the only thing they could hear were their heartbeats. Their faces almost coming closer and closer.

As their lips were about to meet, Yuu's leaning on the side of the boat made them hear a sudden creak. Their eyes widened at the sound while Yuu felt her vision suddenly lopsided as the boat quickly tipped over, tossing her overboard and producing a huge splash.

Her gaping mouth gasped wide for air as she tried to keep her head above the water's surface.

"You've made quite a splash again like how you did in the opening ceremony on the first day. " Jade commented with a chuckle before swimming towards her.

"Of course you laughed the first time you saw me and you'd laugh first before helping me. " Her pout was still visible even if her wet bangs covered her face.

It just made Jade chuckle more as he helped swept away hair on her face with her fingers. "Though its funny seeing you flop helplessly. I apologize, its discourteous of me to laugh. But… That was the first time I've ever noticed you. You've certainly piqued my interest during that ceremony."

'Was he suddenly being honest just now?'

Yuu's face was the same color as a tomato when Jade climbed back on the boat. The man resumed back to his human form,his moray eel-esque tail splitting to legs in a huge sparkle of light. He heard her squeak.

"Anything wrong?"

Yuu averted her gaze as he nonchalantly dressed himself on the boat, slipping his recently transformed legs into his trousers. His calmness felt too teasing for her when he caught she was looking earlier.

When he caught why she was flustered, he smirked. "It seems I am still quite oblivious to conventions of human behavior fufufu I forgot I have parts of me that aren't very proper for a woman to see. Would you like me to tip over the boat again so we could have a redo?"

As much as he derives amusement from many things, her reactions are always circus for him to watch.

But all the lady could give was an indignant glare at his signature close-eyed smile. "Don't you dare tip the boat, j-j-ust go dry yourself and put on some clothes!" She kept her eyes closed shut.Though even when closed, her ears could catch on the ruffling of fabric as she blushed and wished she can exorcise any impure thoughts out of her cranium.

'... Stupid boat, ruining my first kiss'.

She huffed to herself.

To calm and appease her, he obeyed and put on more layers so as to not make her uncomfortable. “Of course I was kidding, I would never expose you to such things if you are not ready. “ Once he was done buttoning his dress shirt, he asked her to turn around. “You can look now”

“I believe I should be escorting you back now and get you a set of dry clothes.” Jade offered, draping his coat on her shoulders, realizing that her clothes were still damp from earlier so they returned back to land.

#jade leech #twisted wonderland #octanivelle #twisted wonderland octavinelle #anime #twisted wonderland fanfiction #jade leech x yuu #jade leech x reader

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thoselethalarts · 5 months ago

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𝓝𝔂𝔁 𝓝𝓸𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓮 - 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂

(SR) Lab Uniform (Part 1): “Just Trust Me On This.”

(NRC: Alchemy Lab)

(Growl….)

Nyx: Ugghh…

Floyd: Mm? What’za matter with you, Pufferfish? You look like shit.

Nyx: Thanks, I feel like shit too. I accidentally slept through my alarm this morning so I had to skip breakfast to make it to class on time. Nyx: I’ve usually got snacks in my bag, but I forgot to grab some so I’m totally out. This sucks.

Floyd: Mmm… yeah, that’s rough alright.

Nyx: …You don’t even care.

Floyd: Nah, ‘s not that. I just reeeaally don’t wanna be here right now. I’m super hungry too so I’m totally outta it right now. Floyd: I wanna skip class ‘n get lunch early instead but Striped Beakfish yelled at me for my attendance last time ‘n threatened to put me on academic probation if I don’t fix it.

Nyx: Ah, go figure. Nyx: Man… we are so screwed. How can I be expected to focus in this condition? I’m totally drained…

Crewel: Sit up straight, puppies! Stay! Class is now in session!

Nyx & Floyd: ‘Kaaaaay…

Nyx: Just gotta get through this last class and I’ll finally be free… Nyx: The cafeteria special today is fish ‘n chips too, I think. Man, that sounds so good right now. Nyx: I can get that- oh, maybe get some popcorn shrimp to go with it. Maybe even some chicken strips, and some fettuccini alfredo~ No wait! Mashed potatoes and corn! Nyx: Ack-! Focus! I can’t keep thinking about food! I gotta get these notes down on paper and then I can stuff my face all I want.

(Growl….)

Nyx: …This is gonna be the longest class of my life.

(Time passes…)

Nyx: Uggghhh… Floooyd… Floyd, I’m dyiiiing.

Floyd: Shut uuuup, I’m dying harder.

Nyx: This isn’t a competition, you dweeb.

Floyd: Yeah, cuz if it was you’d soooo be losing~

Crewel: Puppies in the back, quit your yapping and pay attention! Crewel: Now, for the rest of class I’d like all of you to apply the techniques you learned today in a practical scenario. Crewel: The following recipe I’m handing out is for a simple luck potion. All the ingredients you’ll need to make it are labelled in the cabinets at the rear of the room. Crewel: Follow the recipes to the letter and turn in your results to complete this week’s lab credits. Crewel: Find yourself a partner and get to work! You have until the end of class to finish this assignment.

Nyx: ‘Course, today of all days he wants to give us the lab work. What a drag, I was really hoping to get out early today… Nyx: Well, whatever. I guess it’s you and me then, Floyd?

Floyd: Feh, I’m not doin’ it. Writing boring lab stuff down is the last thing I wanna do right now.

Nyx: Tsk… I hear that. I’m really struggling just to stay afloat right now. Nyx: But I kinda need you for this project, Floyd. Everyone else always has partners and I’m not about to do all this work by myself right now. Nyx: What am I gonna do… Nyx: …Hey look, I know you’re in a shit mood right now and all, but could I maybe cut you a deal to help get this done?

Floyd: Hmmm? What kinda deal?

Nyx: You said you don’t wanna do any of the lab notes, and I get it, so what if we do this: Nyx: I’ll do all the writing for the lab reports for the both of us, and all you gotta do in return is mixing the actual potion. Nyx: We both know how this potion turns out already so you don’t gotta slow down on each of the steps for making it. Nyx: We get it done fast, we get out early, and then we can ditch this joint and get lunch. Sound good?

Floyd: Heheheh~ I like it. Honestly, it’s a better alternative to dicking around and havin’ to do things at a sea snail’s pace like half this class does. Floyd: Tell ya what. You buy my lunch too after this and you got a deal.

Nyx: With what money… Fine, whatever, deal. I’ll get you food, but if this potion doesn’t get us full marks, you ain’t gettin’ shit.

Floyd: Don’t underestimate me. I’m in a shitty mood but I can still make potions better than almost everyone else in here ‘n you know it.

Nyx: Yeah, and I’m counting on you to uphold that. Nyx: I like potion making more than I like paperwork, but right now I don’t have the energy to be stirring shit for half an hour. Floyd’s got enough muscle for two of me. Nyx: Alright. Lets get this shit done and get outta here, Floyd.

Floyd: Waaaay ahead of ya~

/ To Be Continued…

#ツイステッドワンダーランド #Twisted Wonderland #TWST #oc #original character #twst oc #personal story #soul writes #Nyx Nocturne #ニクス • ノクターン

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mcalhenwrites · 9 months ago

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hmm...

So I'm kind of in love with Coral Island, and I wish I could play it more... (But I need to edit Geckos and finish my library books first.) It has some quality of life stuff that I so wish games like Animal Crossing took into consideration. Like, crafting isn't perfect, but even though my seaweed is in my storage box at the farm, I can craft it while I'm diving or in the cavern. Buuut if I want to get a remodel or update equipment, I have to have those items on hand/in my bag. (And I don't really love that they keep the tools for 1+ days. So far I've never waited more than 2 days, but... well, we'll see. I'm hard pressed to part with my net for a couple of days when I use it religiously lmao) Another one I really like is that it tells me if I've donated or offered items when I glance at them in my inventory, and it'll even show that something can be donated/offered. This is super fucking helpful for me. I love bulking up my museum, but it's nice to just drop it in the donation box after checking that I haven't donated it already. No ten fucking dialogue boxes from Blathers. (I love Blathers, but goddamn, AC is really bad about characters not shutting the fuck up over little things. GULLIVER.) This game is massive and gorgeous and the music for diving especially gets me so wrapped up. I gotta thank a game that lets me dive without being terrifying for me. I freaked out about some of the aquatic stuff about the cloud sea in Xenoblade Chronicles 2, especially the tunnels through the cloud sea that had the fish swimming above my head. For the record, I have a rather bad phobia of fish that sucks bc fish are pretty! It's irrational af, it's a phobia duh, but it bums me out that I can't appreciate fish IRL or in most games. But in Coral Island, I find it really calming and diving is one of my favorite things to do. Catching sea critters and exploring and cleaning up the trash is all very soothing. (Did I mention the music?) I don't seem to be keeping up with the farming much bc I'm so busy trying to dive and catch things and forage and break rocks and I love the little sea dragon Naga and omfg the spirits are so cute, I could squish 'em. Oh, and the merfolk designs? A+ Love the diversity of the farming aspects, love the wild seeds tbh (they're so fun and nice little suprises come out of them!), and I just... I'm in love with everyone, including people who are not marriagable. Oof. It's unusual for me. In Rune Factory and Story of Seasons and other farming games, I usually don't really go, "I want to date you!" I just pick a favorite character. (Okay, lies. In RF4, I wanted to fucking marry Ventuswill, and it wouldn't fucking let me. And yes I wanted her dragon form, we're not gonna talk about the loli form.) (I might date Raj, I'm super into them and got a scene where they were talking about barely staying afloat, so now I keep trying to buy something daily whenever I remember, even though I'm sure it doesn't make a difference. I want them to be happy, also they are so hot. ;A; ) I could ramble forever about the cute little sea critters... I suck at fishing in this game, I updated my fishing rod finally (didn't realize where I needed to go, I'm really bad about socializing and checking out the shops on the regular) so hopefully that makes it less painful... XD; Okay, time to go work on my library books so I can return them asap (esp since I may have treated myself to some indie spanking erotica books with my Trans Lives Fest money...) :')

#basically Coral Island is taking over my life when I expected FF7 Rebirth to do that #...which it will when I have more free time to actually play for more than 30-50 min at a time

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castershellwrites · 1 year ago

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Day 5 of EnHoEn Shark Week

@enhoenbigbang Day 5 of Shark Week gets all four prompts used! Tropical seas, hammerhead sharks, a shipwreck, and "come on in the water's fine". What will pirate captain Enji Todoroki do when the Endeavor sinks and he gets washed up on a deserted island? Full fic below the cut

Pirate captain Enji Todoroki had been shipwrecked. A run in with his son and rival captain Touya had left his sails in tatters. Then The Commission had been sighted on the horizon and driven their debilitated ship into a storm. Enji and his crew knew it was better to die free at sea than in chains and a hangman's noose on land. They’d been scuttled on some rocks and Enji forced his crew to take the longboats ashore. He’d stayed behind, to guard the ship. Which would have worked out just fine to ride out the storm thank-you-very-much, until a sneaker wave overturned her and his choices were: dive into the brine or drown in the grand coffin once known as The Endeavor.

The current and the storm washed him through the channel between the islands and back out to sea. He barely managed to keep afloat, losing his boots and coat in the process. The only thing that kept him above water was using his own shirt to lash himself to a floating board. Dying, freezing in a tropical sea, and on the verge of drowning: his only thought was of the family he’d let down and left behind; that of his blood and his crew.

Somehow, because fate could not be kind to him, Enji awoke washed up on dry land. He was battered, bruised, sunburnt, and dehydrated. He cracked his eyes slowly, to keep the sun and sand from hurting him. He staggered to his feet, fell, and crawled to the shade and grass deeper inland. If he wasn’t dead, he had to endeavor to survive.

He found a stream first, and drank slowly of the cool fresh waters. Then he found some fallen coconuts; he didn’t have the strength to climb for more. A passing coconut crab helped with that. His stomach full of meat, water, and coconut, Enji next set about building a shelter. He knew his crew would come looking for him. He also knew that it would be a while as they had nothing but longboats following The Endeavor’s demise.

A while meant he had to shave with a sharpened flint. He had time to fashion a spear, an axe, and make a whetstone for his cutlass. Time to familiarize himself with the entirety of the small island, the best fishing grounds in the shallows, and the shark infested waters beyond. They were odd sharks. They had broad flat heads and sometimes gathered in great numbers. If a ship appeared offshore Enji wouldn’t be able to swim out to it without losing a limb.

It was a solitary existence, but he’d endured worse in his long life.

One morning it became a lot less solitary.

“Ah! There you are! I’d been wondering where you were living.” A very lithe, very naked, blond man picked his way through the underbrush to Enji’s fortified shelter.

Enji greeted him in a reasonable manner, with a sword to the throat. Thankfully, the strange man was unarmed. “Who sent you?”

“Hawks. Which is me, by the way. I sent myself.” He pushed the sword away from his neck as if it was a child’s toy. His grin was sharp, mostly because his teeth were identically triangular and inhuman.

“What are you?” Enji refused to step back. As captain, albeit a captain of one, he could not show weakness to anyone.

Hawks stepped closer to him and ran a hand down the scar on his face. “Would you believe me if I said I was a shark? Intrigued by your beauty—”

Enji jerked his head away with a snort.

“—I asked the ocean goddess to give me a form appealing to you. So I could walk in your world and learn more about the handsome being with hair like blood.” Hawks continued as if he hadn’t been rudely interrupted.

Enji knew then and there the boy wasn’t lying. No human would think him fair.

“Come! Let me show you my island.” Hawks beckoned Enji and began walking towards the beach, certain he’d be followed.

Enji couldn’t help but stare at the muscular backside retreating before him. Either this man was telling the truth, or this was a very strange dying hallucination. Neither option was particularly comforting. With nothing better to do, the ocean had been particularly bountiful of late and his rations were well stocked, Enji followed Hawks’ nude backside to the beach.

Hawks ran into the waves, kicking at them so water splashed up around his shins, and walking quite a distance out before the depth started to slow him. Finally he knee deep water he turned. His smile was as dazzling as the sun and the ocean spray glittered in his hair like pearls. He looked so bright and alive. Enji would be very disappointed if this was all a dying fantasy.

His thoughts, and the danger of those lurking sharks, kept him frozen on land despite the tropical heat.

“Come on in! The water’s fine!” Hawks called, waving to him. He bent down and splashed water towards Enji even though it’d never reach.

“There’s sharks,” he yelled back. Speaking of sharks … a gray fin cut through the water, approaching Hawks at speed. Enji tried to warn him, “Look out!”

Hawks glanced in the direction Enji was pointing. He shrugged and turned back to Enji with his teeth bared. “Did you forget? I’m a shark.” He pointed both hands at his mouth and snapped his jaws together for emphasis.

Enji still hesitated on the shore. He took a few hesitant steps forward but stopped before the water even reached his ankles.

“They won’t hurt you,” Hawks reassured, “they listen to me.” He walked back to the shore to take Enji by the hands.

Enji let himself be led away from land. The ocean was calm today, the sea lapping in gentle ripples. The soft sand beneath his feet undulated in rolling waves. He wanted to look down where he was walking to avoid stones or sharp shells, but his eyes were on Hawks the entire time. The young man walked backwards with complete assurance that no harm would come to them.

They were a great distance away from land when the water finally reached their knees. Then they reached a sunken sandbar and it was as if they were standing on the water’s surface.

Sharks circled on either side of the sandbar, the water was so shallow their backs sometimes broke the surface in addition to their fins. Enji was, effectively, trapped. He feared the answer, but had to know “Why did you bring me out here?”

“To show you my island.” Hawks’ face showed nothing but confusion and innocence.

“Why?”

“You’re beautiful,” Hawks whispered and dropped Enji’s hands to cup his face.

Enji blushed and decided he’d blame it on the sun if Hawks asked. “You don’t even know my name …”

“Is that important to humans? I know your smell, and your taste, I know you as well as my kind can.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I want to.”

Enji shivered. How did a shark get to know someone? Hawks had mentioned scent and taste, and Enji didn’t want to think about what that meant. “How?”

Hawks grinned and the world rippled around them, as if the air itself were made of water. “Swim with me. Ask the ocean goddess and she will make it so no creature of the sea can hurt you.”

Enji looked around them, he didn’t see anyone. But any superstitious sailor worth his salt knew never to turn down a boon, especially one that would grant an advantage at sea. “I accept. Please.”

Enji’s clothes floated in the water. He didn’t need them anymore. An impressively large hammerhead and a scarred great white shark swam away from the empty sandbar to circle their island.

#enhoen #enhoen shark week #pirate AU #fantasy au #endhawks #hawksdeavor #keigo takami #enji todoroki #my fanfiction

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mikescalco · 14 days ago

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Fish Eye - Pirate House on Zentripz from ZentripZ TV on Vimeo.

Stay Crispy & stay tuned.. SHARING IS CARING. Thanks! ATTENTION DJS AND PROMOTERS : Want to get airtime on terrestrial radio & do a good deed for community radio? Donate $100 we will thank you by giving you an hour of the FM show, donate $200 you can take over the whole radio show! Help keep the ZentripZ Pirate Ship Afloat. Shop on Amazon? Follow this link & bookmark it. iTiny.net/183783 - prices are all the same, we just get our beaks a lil wet too. THE HOUSE PIRATE: If he were to pat you on the back you would put it opn your resume Both sides of his pillow are cool When in rome they do as he does. Museums allow him to touch whatever he wants. He is the life of parties he has never attended. He's won trophies for his game face alone. His Mom has a tattoo that says "SON". He bowls over-hand. He has disected frogs that are alive, well & happy today. His words carry weight that would break a less interesting man's jaw. Dicing onions doesn't make him cry...it only makes him stronger. If he punched you in the face you would have th over-whelming urge to THANK HIM. If you were to see him walking a chihuahua, it would still look masculine. He is left-handed & right-handed. He wouldn't be afraid to show his feminine side, if he had one. If there were an interesting gland, his would be larger than most men's entire lower intestines. The police often question him, just because they find him interesting. He once punched a magician. That's right. You heard me. His shirts never wrinkle. Sharks have a week dedicated to him. When he orders a salad, he gets the dressing right there on top where it belongs...where there is no turning back. Even if he forgets to put postage on his mail, it gets there. He once knew a call was a wrong number, even though the person on the other end wouldn't admit it. You can see his charisma from space. The Mayans prophecized his birth. Even lucha libres remove their masks in his presence. He once taught a German Shepard to bark in Spanish. He serves sizzling fajita platters bare-handed. Raging Bulls flat-out refuse to fight him. He once buried a time capsule full of things that haven't happened yet. He has been pronounced dead 7 times...make that 8....... no 9! His bear hugs are actually hugs he gives to bears & they love them. He can't be bought.. -but his beard clippings have been known to show up on auction. He has never lost a sock. If he disagrees with you, it is because you are wrong. The Aztec calendar has his birthday chiseled in. Most songs about love are written for him, about him, or by him. He'd never initiate a conversation about the weather, even in a typhoon. He's against cruelty to animals, but isn't afraid to issue a stern warning. Whatever side of the tracks he's currently on is the right side. If he crossed them, he would still be the right side. He won the same lifetime achievement award -twice. Signs that say "This is not an exit" do not apply to him. If he rides with you in your car, its resale value will instantly increase. If he passed you on the street you would still feel as if he stopped and said hello and asked you about your day. If you were trapped with him in an elevator, you wouldn't want to be saved. The front of his house looks like it was built by the Mayans...because it was. His tacos refuse to fall from the shell. He has never filled up on chips. When it is raining, it's because he's sad. His business card just says, "I'll call you." growing up i did a lot of running from bullies, wore leg braces & had th biggest crush on my bff jenny. after th war, was captain on a shrimp boat named after her. a toilet paper shortage, while at sea, ruined all th charts & i ended up shipwrecked Only 1 rule : Don't take anything I say too seriously because it's probably a joke. Happy to chat and be neighborly, so don't be shy! Please & Thank You!

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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years ago

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ok hear me out, could you do a fic with god au edward where the reader is a pirate who gets injured during a sea battle and he finds them?

GODS AU

notes: it was so much fun to write a solo piece for Edward in this AU! I also want you all to know how much I hate maths but I did it just to figure out what God! Edward's height would be

pairing: God! Edward x Reader

word count: 2.3k

☾ ⋆ﾟ MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

Ápeira Aquae (infinite waters)

Realm of the Gods of the water. It is an endless ocean, dotted by lush islands, one of which is a forest unlike the others which contains a hidden gateway to another Godly realm. The Gods here have their own island(s) and ship(s).

Kingdom of Pirates

Edward: God of parties (also drinking and riches)

The waves continued to lap around the little piece of wreckage that you clung to. The sun beat down on you mercilessly and you were sick and tired of the salt water splashing in your eyes.

Your ship had been ambushed by the royal navy, your vessel sunk and, as far as you were aware, all your crew dead. You had been beyond lucky to escape with your life and you liked to think that some God was smiling down on you. Was there a pirate God? It must be one of those who lived in Ápeira Aquae, though you couldn’t quite recall a particular name. You had never been much of a religious person, more concerned about what was going to put food on the table or money in your pocket. You continued to slowly kick your legs in the water to help keep you afloat and dropped your head, the sun’s rays feeling so harsh.

And then they were gone.

You looked up to realise that you were in the shadow of the biggest ship you had ever seen. Surenly, it couldn’t have been a pirate ship and you wondered if it was the navy, coming back to finish the job, but a rope ladder was tossed down to you and, between dying out at sea like this and the navy, you’d take your chances after so many hours in the water already.

You clambered out of the water and flopped onto the deck, closing your eyes against the sun that suddenly seemed so much more pleasant than it had been before. It shone, yes, but it didn’t hurt your eyes, nor did it burn your skin.

You opened your eyes, expecting to have to squint them against the sun but the light was… pleasant, nothing like what you were familiar with. Sitting up, you were surrounded by pittering sounds as your clothes dripped onto the deck beneath you and you looked around to find no one. Where was the crew? Who had thrown the ladder down for you?

Getting up to your feet, you took out your flintlock and scowled at how utterly soaked it was. Useless. Instead, you drew your sword, the blade singing as you sliced it through the air, eyeing the door that led to where the Captain’s quarters should be located.

The door was huge, immensely so for a ship, and you leaned towards it only to hear quiet singing from the other side, a man’s voice, the words slightly slurred. Stepping back, you went to kick in the door but found both that you were weaker than you thought and it was heavier than you thought.

“Now!” A voice called from inside, “That’s no way to say thank you!” Your eyes widened and you took a few more steps back as footsteps approached the door. When it opened, you were sure you looked like a fish with how your jaw dropped. He was insanely tall! 7’2 or 213 cm. His shirt was hanging open, revealing an insanely defined chest, kissed by the sun into a rich tan and covered in tattoos. His hair was blonde and long, hanging around his face loosely. He had a bottle of rum in one hand and a sword and pistols at his hips.

“You threw the ladder down to me?” You raised a brow sceptically. Were you still in the ocean? Was this an elaborate hallucination?

“Yes! This is my ship!” He nodded his head exaggeratedly in his drunkenness, gesturing around the empty vessel.

“Where’s your crew?” He burst out laughing as though the answer to your question was the most obvious thing in the world and got even closer to you, completely unphased by your sword which he simply pushed to the side, leaning down a little to rest his hand on your shoulder.

“She doesn’t need one. She runs herself.” Yeah, this guy had way too much to drink.

“A ship that runs itself…” You looked around, sure that there must be a crew around here somewhere but the boat suddenly rocked as though a storm were brewing and the sunshine seemed dimmer, though no clouds dappled the sky.

“Do you doubt me, mortal?” His blue eyes narrowed as he leaned down to better match your height, looming over you. You had suspected being drunk before but now you were leaning more towards madness. Who’s damned ship had you got on?

“What are you, like, a God?” You sheathed your sword as he was so seemingly unbothered by it, folding your arms over your chest instead as you looked up at him.

“Aye, I am.” He replied and you deadpanned before covering your eyes with your hand, taking a deep breath. How the hell was this guy alive and running a ship without a crew? Why was he so tall? Where the hell were you? And what on Earth made him believe that he’s a God?

Then again, you know of Gods such as Altaïr and Maria who were said to be far taller than the average human… He couldn’t actually be…?

“Alright, let’s say you are a God.” You began, wondering if you would get anywhere by playing his game, “Of what?” A grin split his face and he gestured around his ship as though it were some grand forgotten tomb of renowned emperors.

“Of parties, drinking and riches.” You looked around the ship dramatically.

“Well, I see you have one of those three things down.”

“You do not believe me.”

“I have no reason to. I have never heard of a God of parties, drinking and riches.” You huffed.

“I am Edward Kenway.”

“Like Ratonhnhaké;ton Kenway?” Aside from not being a religious person, you had uttered a few desperate prayers to the God when you were out on a desperate hunt that was beginning to look fruitless.

“Aye, my grandson.” Your eyes widened for a moment. The thought alone was terrifying. The God of nature, hunting and vengeance could be as ruthless as he could be tender, as you have heard, so you could only imagine what his grandfather could be like–

No! This man standing before you was a drunkard, not a God.

“Sure~” You drawled out, “I think I’m going to need some proof.”

“You’re in the Ápeira Aquae, the realm of waters, is that not proof enough?” With those words something clicked. The way the sun was so much more pleasant, how the sea was calmer, how this colossal ship had appeared out of nowhere with not a single crewmember in sight. He flicked his wrist in your direction, his eyes going past you, and you found that the ship was docking itself on a lush island. You could just about make out pillars poking out through the tree canopy just off in the distance.

“You really are a God.” You breathed out as a plank laid itself out between the ship and dock. He let out a hearty laugh as he disembarked from the ship and held out a hand to you as you followed him.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” He grinned, “But we have something important to discuss. I may be a God but my power isn’t unlimited and omnipotent. We watch over things as we please, what we wish to observe and when and we do have to make an effort to travel somewhere.” The two of you began tracking through a sandy trail into the forest. The branches seemed to curve and twist into extravagant arches, jars full of glowing moths hanging from them and illuminating the way under the thick tree canopy with a soft, other-worldly glow.

He led you along that trail until you came across a large wooden mansion. Many of the trees surrounded it, seemingly forging the building. Some of the pillars were shadowed by trees growing out of the roof and you could just about make out where you saw windows carved into the large trunks, balconies like watchtowers. Lanterns hung from these branches and from around the wrap-around patio of the home and you marvelled at the grandeur of it. You had never seen anything so extravagant and it was as though it were forced by man and nature together.

He led you inside and you couldn’t help but spin slowly as you walked, taking everything in. Golden sunlight filtered in through skylights and more of those lanterns were hanging around, the colours pulsing softly and slowly changing. There were chests scattered around the place, overflowing with gold, pearls and jewels. Many maps were rolled up and scattered around and much of the furniture was decorated with a golden sheen.

Edward led you to an office of sorts where he gestured for you to sit in a plush seat of dark green leather while he went over to a liquor cabinet. He poured two glasses of whisky, one much more generously than the other and joined you in the opposite chair, pushing the lesser filled glass towards you. You thanked him quickly as you accepted it.

“So, what’s this problem you’re facing?” You asked as you took a sip, feeling the drink warm you and pleasantly burn your throat.

“People are forgetting about me which is a big problem for a God.” He began, tagging a large swig, “Our power comes from the praise and worship we receive. It’s why Gods like Altaïr and Maria remain as powerful as they are: people look up to the Sun or Moon and remember them, remember to worship them and they always maintain the power to keep them moving in the sky. You didn’t believe me when I told you that I’m a God and, usually, I’d make some big gesture to prove you wrong but I’m not as strong as I used to be, I only had the power to keep the ship going.” He explained.

“So where do I come into this?” You raised a brow, leaning back comfortably in the soft chair. He grinned.

“You’re going to be my preacher.” He replied, “You’re a pirate, a good one, I watched that last battle and you stood your ground until the very end. You had every odd stacked against you and it was miraculous that your crew even lasted as long as they did. I made sure that you got out alive, I had the current carry you away from those navy ships. I’ve always favoured pirates because you live life as I see fit and you partake in all that I embody. I’m going to make you the next Queen of the pirate world and all that I ask in exchange is that you get people to worship me again, build a few temples in my name, perhaps. All who worship me will prosper and so your nation will grow rich and powerful. What do you say?”

“I’d say you’re crazy if I weren’t sitting around having a drink with a God.” You laughed and he joined in, “But how do I know this is doable? Like you said, you’re weak at the moment. How can you support my rise to Queendom?”

“When you start worshipping me, I’ll gain more strength and power.” He stood up and went over to a bookshelf that was haphazardly stacked with books and maps with seemingly no rhyme or reason to how they were placed. He came back with a blue book that was covered in intricately detailed gold embellishments. The pages were held closed by metal brackets on the side of the book. “This contains everything that I will accept as an offering.” You frowned slightly as you turned the book in your hands.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re in a position to be fussy about what people give you.” You commented.

“That’s not how it works. If I don’t like an offering, I can’t take anything from it. It’s the same as if people pray to me just asking for things without giving any gratitude in return, I won’t lift a finger to grant what they want because I’m being offered no source of strength to do so. Do you understand?” You nodded your head but there were still many questions you had on the subject and how it all worked. You decided that there was probably always some incomprehensible element to Gods and you wouldn’t understand either way, most likely. “I also have something to help you when you return to your world.” He went over to the fireplace where a golden cutlass was displayed on the wall above the mantle and beneath a portrait of him at the wheel of his ship. He handed it to you and your eyes widened as you took it from him. It wasn’t actually made of gold, that much you could tell from the weight of it. “This was forged in the volcano of one of the islands here in Ápeira Aquae, infused with mana. It will enhance your senses, grant you more stamina and cause any sickness or injury you face to heal faster. Use it to build a Kingdom of pirates.” You let out a long whistle as you stood to your feet, slicing the blade through the air. It felt like an extension of your body, like a piece that had been missing for aeons and was only now being returned to its rightful place in the world.

“I will.” You spoke with conviction and he guided you back to your chair.

“Come, finish your drink and I’ll return you to your world.” You gladly did so, sheathing the sword at your hip in place of your last cutlass, far inferior to this godly weapon.

You were unsure of when you had fallen asleep, if you had even finished the drink, but you soon woke up, spluttering on a beach, fingers digging into the sand. The sun was harsh once more and you crawled your way across the beach and into the shade of the nearby treeline. What a weird dream. But what if it wasn’t?

You glanced down to your hip to find that you were, indeed, carrying the powerful weapon gifted to you by the God of parties, drinking and riches. You really had entered a realm of the Gods. You shakily got to your feet, supporting yourself on a tree trunk.

You had a kingdom to forge.

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