#*gives siren a glowing green orb* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qatheauthoress74 · 1 year

Text

A Song From The Heart

For @the-painted-siren https://www.tumblr.com/the-painted-siren An AU of an AU for the Ninjago Secret Summer OC Exchange.

The dim lights from the theater added a soft glow to the overall techno-punk atmosphere inside the venture.

A young woman with her hair tied up in a braid observed the room with a quirked smile while her partner was more focused on the other patrons.

“It sure was nice of the people at the ticket booth to give us a discount,” the blond boy clad in green said. “They must understand how crucial this mission is after I explained why we needed to come inside.”

The girl’s half-smile molded into an amused smirk. “Maybe, or they just recognized us as the Ninja that saved Ninjago for the tenth billionth time and decided to give us special treatment.” Her eyes caught sight of a merchandise stall. “Hey, you wanna go buy an overpriced t-shirt of the musician everybody’s here to see?”

“We’re here on business, Lyra.”

Lyra feigned a pout. “Oh, but we never get to do anything fun.”

Lloyd’s emerald eyes widened in alarm. “What? But last week we went out—”

“I’m kidding, Greenie.” She playfully shoved him for good measure. “I know our Ninja-ing comes first. So, where are we supposed to find this new Master of Time?”

The young man held up a round item that resembled a pocket watch but it had only one hand and was pointing in one direction no matter where he moved. At that moment, the device directed its arrow in front of the couple. “According to Master Wu’s Elemental Compass, they should be around here somewhere.”

Lyra rolled her eyes. “That’s helpful.”

“You should’ve seen how we used to find Elemental Master without a Compass,” Lloyd recalled. “It took way longer.”

“So, which way is it pointing to now?”

“It just keeps pointing to the stage.” He looked up but saw nothing. Not even any stagehands setting up for the concert. “But I don’t understand why—”

Lloyd didn’t get to finish as he was cut off by an announcer.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and people of non-specific genders, it’s time for the show. Give it up for Calem Kahale!”

Suddenly the stage lit up with bright colors of red and gold. Beneath a trap door, an elevator pushed upwards, revealing a young man dressed like a punk biker holding a guitar in his hands.

When the young man smiled Lloyd felt his heart rate go up in a way that only happened when he was around Lyra. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Lyra ceased looking at the stage to stare inquiringly at Lloyd. “Do you think that’s him?”

Lloyd wordlessly nodded, mesmerized by the song the performer played.

Lyra turned to look back at the singer as a smile began to play on her lips. She wondered where this was going and how much fun she could have.

💚

Calem remembered he need to look at the audience while he played and chose to settle his gaze on one spot in the crowd of people. He let out a small gasp after his eyes met the greenest orbs he ever saw. The rest of the face that the eyes belonged to were quite the sight to behold as well. Without thinking Calem found himself drawn to the young man standing in the pit in front of the stage. He stepped forward, not really thinking straight (haha), and accidentally took one foot over the ledge.

Oh, that was stupid, was a thought that went through Calem’s head along with the regret he didn’t get the chance to ask for the cute guy’s phone number before he began to fall.

💚

Lloyd and Lyra wasted no time in quickly moving around the shocked crowd when Calem tripped over the stage’s edge. Both Ninja was experienced enough to know with how short the platform was to the ground they wouldn’t reach the musician in time and save him from the fall. Still, it was in their nature to help when they could, and were in for a surprise when they saw something out of the ordinary.

“He’s slowing down,” Lyra observed, watching Calem’s body moving at a snail’s pace with each passing second. He was now less than a foot away from the ground and by the girl’s estimate, he might reach it in two minutes.

“That’s our man—I mean, Ninja—uh—” Lloyd stammered after catching himself making that entendre.

“I know what you mean, Lloyd.” Lyra playfully rolled her eyes.

Instead of rushing towards Calem the couple instead simply walked up to his semi-floating body and took a hold of his arms. The moment they did so the young man’s elemental powers deactivated, and time moved normally around him once again.

“Hey,” Calem said breathlessly to the people who “saved” him.

“Hey.” Lloyd shot back.

“Sup,” Lyra chimed in. “You okay there, bud? Not in any pain, are you?”

“Yep, uh-huh.” I just got saved by two good-looking people, that’s all. “No, I mean I’m fine. Thank you.”

“After you finish the rest of your show, we’d like to talk with you backstage if that’s not too much to ask.” Lloyd was quick to notice the large group of onlookers staring in awe at them.

“Please, um, by all means. My manager will let you in.”

💚

Calem almost spat out his water after hearing the full story. “Wait, you two are part of the Ninja team?”

Lloyd exchanged stares with Lyra before looking back at the musician. “Yes, just like I said we want to offer a proposition. What else would we mean?” he asked, referring to the rest of the conversation that had since visiting Calem in his dressing room. Alone. With no one else to bother them.

Lyra, however instantly got the connotation of what Calem interpreted after seeing him blush at the previous mention of the word proposition. She laughed out loud before speaking to her visibly confused boyfriend. “Oh, Lloyd, you sweet summer child. You truly are a Goofus in the best way.”

“What else would you…” Lloyd trailed off for a moment once the realization kicked in. “Oh, you meant—seriously?!”

“Oh, FSM!” Lyra laughed so hard she thought she was going to pee.

Calem blushed harder than Lloyd currently was. “I’m sorry! I just—I’m not used to two attractive people who saved me from a severe head injury suddenly taking an interest in me. Did I just say two attractive people out loud?” Man, Calem must be suffering from a head injury worse than he thought.

Lyra thankfully managed to calm down after wiping away a tear from her eyes and evaluated Calem. “Wow, your personality doesn’t match your look at all.”

“It’s my stage persona. It’s supposed to make me look cool and mysterious.” Yes, he was very cool and mysterious looking from how he was bringing his knees close to his chest and had cheeks redder than an apple.

“Which I guess you’re neither of those things IRL.”

“Lyra.” Lloyd frowned in disproval.

“What I still think he’s adorably dorky in a hot kinda way?” Her casual response did nothing to prevent Calem from flushing into a deeper shade of crimson. “And it seems like you are too, Mister Beet Red.”

The Green Ninja grumbled at her but was unable to hide his reddened face.

“Anyway, before any further misconceptions are made, I’ll cut to the chase and ask if you’d like to train alongside us.”

Calem appeared torn by the suggestion. “Oh, uh….”

Lloyd, not wanting the young man to reject their offer then made a compromise. “But you can still perform as a musician when you aren’t busy training or helping us fight.”

Lyra nodded but added warily, “Fair warning though, it’s been about a month since the last time we fought the latest bad guy bent on taking over the world or destroying it. So, we’re probably due for the next one to show up pretty soon.”

“But you won’t be fighting anyone just yet until you’ve finished your training,” Lloyd hastily included.

Calem chewed his lower lip, still hesitant to answer. “Can I have some time to think it over?”

“I mean, you’re the new Master of Time so you have all the time in the world. Right?” Lyra winked at him after making the lame pun, causing him to turn red again.

“Yes, you can. But you can keep in touch with us,” Lloyd extended his hand for Calem to shake. The other boy accepted it with no problem.

Lyra smiled, wryly. “Meaning Lloyd here totally would like to date you.”

“Lyra!” Lloyd was aghast at his girlfriend’s comment.

Her grin turned into a full-on smirk and asked, “Is that not what I’m reading here?”

“I mean—I do think he’s cute but—ugh!” Lloyd threw a hand over his face.

“You think I’m cute?” Calem’s tone sounded hopeful.

“‘Course we do,” Lyra answered with a genuine beam. “You wouldn’t happen to be busy later, are you?”

Calem bashfully shook his head no.

Lloyd, deciding to just roll with Lyra’s obvious matchmaking, then made another proposal to Calem, but a much more personal one this time. No, not that kind of proposal. “If you are not put off by my partner’s teasing, we would like to spend more time with you.”

“And just to be clear this isn’t a ploy to join our team. Unless you think I’m talking about a different team.” She added a wink for good measure.

“I think you’re going to confuse him,” Lloyd deadpanned.

“Oh, no I got it.” Calem nodded. “Yes, I would like to spend more time with you if that’s okay with you.”

Lyra shrugged. “I’m Poly and Lloyd’s Bi so I think we can work this out.”

So I borrowed the Elemental Compass idea from Ren [https://www.tumblr.com/the-ninja-legacy-whip]. It’s a literal plot device and I love it. XD

#ninjago #lego ninjago #Lego Ninjago Lloyd #lloyd garmadon #lloyd garmadon x oc x oc #oc x Lloyd Garmadon x oc #ninjago lloyd x oc x oc #ninjago oc exchange

8 notes · View notes

tinx-methinks · 5 months

Note

25, 25, 25, 25

Hell yeah. You know I did.

Lots of my characters are for TTRPGs. So I guess I'll give you some of my characters I've been making for the 5e one shots AJ's been running for us.

Jitters Robusta is a half-elf Warlock/Rogue I made to run some of the wacky stuff AJ's been asking us to look at. One part of that was an Overseer Warlock that gets this sort of beam attack so I really leaned into the Magnus Archives of it all and gave her an eyeball aesthetic, gave her a severe paranoia, a glass eye which shot the beam and a few levels of rogue. She played really fun off of the other two characters (one who had selective deafness and another that had taken an oath of silence)

She's a halfling, who is hard to remember if you aren't looking directly at her. She has dark skin, and an afro-puff in the shape of a coffee bean on top of her head. She only has one eye, and in the other is an orb of solid colored glass.

She almost died tho when she got eaten by a big fish.

Second- this book AJ wanted us to use had a race of Ironwrought which had an option of Quadrupeds so I gave up somatic components and made a four-legged friend named Rover. A former machine built for nothing but destruction the magic of feywild had given him life and worse a conscience. He tore apart his former masters and set himself to a life of wandering (Roving, if you will). Rover is a Ranger and he duel wields his paws which count as light weapons.

Rover AKA the Goodest Boy was immediately beloved by my group which also had a little girl and a reluctant cop as characters. Rover was trying to set the troubled girl on the straight and narrow but to little effect. He looks so cool in my head. This oversized beast of blackened iron with delicate fey filigree in fine silver all over his body. He wears a bright red collar and has a haunted look in his glowing white eyes.

He almost died when a big plant dragged him under the earth.

My latest one shot character is from a set of "adopted triplets" we're using for a Christmas one shot on New Years.

Abandoned at an orphanage as a baby, three children of the same approximate age get adopted at the same time and raised as Triplets. A mutant siren, a dragonborn, and me a Leonin they named Honey. I'm going very "And the Warner sister, Dot" with this character I think but I won't know till I play her.

Honey Nestweaver is a Leonin who was raised by very faithful Gnomish parents who were doing their part to help the community by taking in orphans. They are kind and doting parents who still keep in touch with their children, and therefore Honey, who was always the golden child, is still trying to maintain her image with them.

She is a tall af golden lioness woman, who has confessed to her brothers that she's recently been kicked out of her church but is hiding it from her parents so they won't be disappointed. Besides- she still has her cleric powers so how badly could her little affairs/sex scandals really have offended her goddess? It's only a matter of time till she'll be back in her good graces and back on top of the church. She thinks.

I suppose it'll depend on what AJ throws at her.

This is a silly one I haven't shared with anyone.

It's been living in my head without anywhere to go. A while ago I was talking to someone who was playing the MLP TTRPG and I started thinking about what my character would be for that... and I'm probably never going to get to play the MLP game myself BUT IF I DID

My ponysona would be named Sweet Tea and her special ability would be offering the most comforting beverage to someone when they're sad and her cutie mark would be a purple steaming cup of coffee. She's a light brown with purple flecks on her legs and lime green mane and tail. I think she has purple glasses too. Round ones.

Thank you for the asks anon! These were fun to do/think about again. Sometimes when you're only using a character for a one shot you can forget about them after so it was nice to refresh my memory.

END OF YEAR ASKS

#personal #me #ttrpgs #asks

2 notes · View notes

obliviscii · 1 year

Text

Exile’s Garden - ‘Tween the World of the Living and Dead

Nestled in the middle of the living world and the afterlife is a path. It is long, winding, and made of cobblestone. It is a realm of ethereal beauty and peace, though a solemn sadness hangs in the dark air - for this is where spirits are ferried from the living world, to their next life.

Exile’s Garden is realm that acts as a gateway, and is a place that only Yveltal can access unless he were to bring someone along; though this is not advised for a multitude of reasons that will be explained later.

The path found in the realm is flanked with flowers, hundreds and thousands of them. These flowers are eternal flowers, colored a deep black and red, resembling the god of death himself. Never to wilt or die, the flowers can exist in the most treacherous of places, void of light and water and may still thrive. They truly are eternal in every sense of the word, and these flowers have existed in Exile’s Garden for millions of years, some for even longer, having originated from this realm.

They are the only plantlife found in the realm beyond the trees, spindly branches and dark wood covered in pristine, pure white leaves. The leaves fall like snow, withering and dying days after hitting the ground. Along with that, vines snake their way along the trunks of the trees and further beyond that, colored an almost black, deep green.

The only source of light are glowing orbs hung suspended along the path, cloaking parts of the path and Exile’s Garden in a glow. Forlorn spirits that had accepted their death and made it that far, but did not want to continue, also give off sources of light.

A river flows through the land, cutting across the path. A wooden bridge connects the path where the river intersects. The waters are dark, darker and deeper than the night sky, and makes no noise as it flows. Drinking these waters gives instant and pure bliss to those who taste it, washing away all sadness and anger - however the water is addicting. It becomes hard to leave the riverbank, wanting nothing more than to drink, and drink, and drink. Those who tempt the fate of the river are doomed to be stuck at its side for all eternity - the most fanatic of people immerse themselves in the water entirely, forever stuck at the murky bottom and reaching up to the surface endlessly.

The areas outside of the path, outside the soft glow of the lights, are perhaps the most dangerous of all in Exile’s Garden. These areas are why Yveltal is hesitant to bring anyone alive to this realm. Echoes of voices can be heard beyond the trees, a siren song beckoning those to heed its call. The voices are different for all who hear them, being the voice of their loved ones. Their family, their friends, their lover, their children... whether these voices are of those still alive on the other side, or are of those who have long since been deceased. Yveltal does what he can to sway spirits from being fooled, but some don’t listen and venture out.

The darkness that is beyond the trees is such a deep, pervading darkness, that it strips one of all their senses, utterly depriving them of all rationality. All sense of direction is lost, all sight, all hearing. It is intense, and those who wander beyond the light are lost for all eternity, never to be found, seen, or heard of again. A lost soul damned to wandering the darkness forever, tricked in their moment of weakness by hearing what they want to hear again the most - their loved ones. For one, final time.

Eventually, the path does reach it’s end. The end of Exile’s Garden, the end of the world. There, the very land drops off steeply and endlessly, a dark void. To him, it is merely an endless sky, with glowing souls cascading up and beyond where he can see... like lanterns floating away in the night. But to those departed, they see the afterlife. They see whatever awaits them beyond where Yveltal can go - at the end of Exile’s Garden.

#💀 worldbuilding.#💀 headcanon.#long post #im coming to learn how much i love beautiful yet extremely fucked up places like this #this took FOREVER. ive been p much writing this since like.... i first heard that song earlier. fuck!!!!#probably not a place he would want to bring ANYONE to. as pretty as it is.#this has been his job - his role - since his creation. he knows all of the tricks. he knows better.#even when warning others though. when they heard a voice they've been wanting to hear? anyone with a weak will can be so swayed.#anyways. im not normal abt this place rn

3 notes · View notes

sereina · 8 months

Text

Exile’s Garden - ‘Tween the World of the Living and Dead

#🌹 worldbuilding.#🌹 headcanon.#💀 yveltal | headcanon.#death tw #long post #i forgot how hard this hc slapped so here it is on the new blog :3 #also giving yvel his own lil tags bc he's worth it <3 (and he's a side muse here now!!)

1 note · View note

everlastingscribe · 2 years

Text

Writing Exercise Prompt: You work in a Maximum Security Prison for Mythical Creatures.

Her headphones sat just a little too snug on her skull as she carried the mop and bucket along, boots clomping mutely against the faintly glowing floor. Inside, her feet were growing damp. Tol grimaced and stopped for a second, letting the bucket down.

To her left, she noticed, that sunlight shafts were beginning to stretch like stems of peonies bringing illumination all the way down to the bottom of the Well. She half smiled. “Break time” she said aloud, feeling the words leave her mouth but not hearing them.

She’d managed to get nearly two thirds of the walkway washed. Better than she’d done yesterday. Tol leaned on the handle of the mop and admired her progress. The faintly purple path spiraled down behind her gleaming in its new wash. The Well that separated Cell Block A from Cell Block B was full of floating moats. Dust. Pollen. Fancy sparkles from some of the newer residents who hadn’t figured out that blowing their power was futile here.

She rubbed her hand against the coveralls, chasing away the ache the thin metal handle had pressed into her palm and reached down, catching the little loop on the back of the left boot. Half bent she tugged it so the heel thished faintly against the three layers of sock inside.

Out of the corner of her right eye she saw the faint pulse of green vapor snaking towards her head and ducked but the tendril still snagged the bridge of the headset and yanked it away. She snatched after it, turning towards the source and a lovely vision swam before her eyes.

A maiden, pure and untouched sat demurely at the mouth of her cell, robed in purple and scarlet. The headset hovering just inside the pale blue walls of the cell.

The girl began to sing, her throat vibrating with the effort, and her fingers beginning to weave a web of movement in time with the sound. For a moment Tol just stood still, feeling her pulse jumping in her throat. The girl opened her eyes, and their gazes met. Glowing pink spheres stared directly into her own. She swallowed. A vision of her hand on the touch pad faintly keying something in snapped into her minds eye. The finger movements were vague, but the impression of urgency was there, making her stomachache. But her stretched itself, flexing its claws and stretching its drake-cut wings, and then swatted aside the beguiling siren-song as if it were nothing more than a icthus swimming about its belly scoots. The urgency bled away replaced with a faint rumble of hunger. She blinked several times.

Then came a rough staccato bark from the opposite side of the Well. Tol felt her grin tip.

“May I have my headset please?” She asked.

The girl who hissed, pulling back her delicate pale lips to reveal a mouth with far too many teeth crammed into the tiny maw. “RELEASE ME MORTAL” the words pounded. Tol blinked.

“No, I’m not going to do that.” The pink orbs widened.

“You git” came the familiar, sardonic voice from across the way “She’s tone deaf. None of our wiles work on her. It’s why they hired the plain bastard.” Tol held out her hand.

“He’s incredibly rude, but he’s also right. I am a tone-deaf plain bastard. Now, may I have my headset, please” She asked again, trying not to smile. “I’d rather not write up an incident report on my break.” The creature hunched its shoulders and then with a sudden movement the long fingered hands, no longer at all maidenly, snapped the set band in half and threw the pieces at Tol’s head. She got her hands up in time. And sighed. “Well, great.”

“You didn’t ask her to give them back in one piece” the voice crowed, and she heard the field buzz as he shouldered into it, then slapped his hands in a rude rhythm.

“That’s true” she called back. “Thanks for the pointer your majesty I will remember to do so in the future.”

“Bastard!”

“Yes, we have in fact established my paternity, your worship. Several years ago, in fact.” She returned. placing the headset pieces in a coverall pocket and swinging the mop up to rest on her shoulder. “Now” Tol picked up the bucket “If you have no more sweet words for me, I’m going to take my break.” The female screamed and ran her hands up and down the stone wall beside the barred door, Tol winced, bringing her shoulder up towards her ears, and began carefully walking along the sloped floor.

#writingprompt #senseofplace #thirtyminutes

0 notes

shivada-jade · 3 years

Text

songs of a siren

characters: venti, beidou, kazuha, albedo ➡ mention(s): xiangling, ningguang, sucrose, timaeus, peepaw warning(s): yo ho ho me hearties

note: whenever i write venti, i always have 27 tabs of rhymezone opened up. my rhyming vocabulary will be unstoppable in a few weeks time. no one can stop me, it will be sublime

Venti:

Venti has seen many things in his free-spirited life. He's seen many different lives and creatures, but something he has never seen before are the fabled sirens of the sea.

"Beware of the sirens!" The old captains of Teyvat warned, "Their music is captivating and will drown you into sea."

"Music?" The bard asks with sparkling eyes.

The old sea captain squints her eyes. "Bard, do you have selective hearing? The sirens will drown you in sea."

Venti laughs, "But I've never heard of singing sirens! Just sirens. I wish to see one."

"Younglings these days," the captain shakes her head, tipping her chair back just enough so she wouldn't fall.

"I'm actually older than I look, you can see me in many books," he chuckles, hopping off the table right outside of Angel's Share.

"Thank you for your sea tips captain!" He says, tipping his hat in a bow with a hand behind his back. "I'll put it to jolly good use. With your knowledge, I'll make sure nothing bad will happen!"

Venti sneakily snatches an apple from a sleeping person's hand and saunters on his way, whistling a few notes.

"Sirens of the Sea will be my next tune!"

Everyday, Venti comes out playing his lyre to the sea, hoping he would be able to hear someone sing back. He made his winds carry his song to the deepest part of the waters, trying to catch the attention of sirens.

And everyday, he would return to the tavern, fruitless as the patrons pat his back singing a drunken song.

The young adults nearby would shake their heads, kindly telling Venti that sirens are not real. The grandparents' eyes would twinkle when they heard Venti playing the song for the sirens while kids would sit next to Venti who played his lyre at the docks.

His green cape flew back as he played a different style of music, one that's more mellow and calm compared to the upbeat kind he plays so often. There, he swears he sees the flip of a tail far beyond the ocean.

He bid farewell to the children and apologize for not being to able to play more music for them. "I'll be back if you bring apples!"

Venti waves goodbye and walks out the exits of Mondstadt.

His legs brush the long grass, reaching to touch his hand as he hikes up Starsnatch Cliff, until he remembers he can fly. Oops.

Swirls of teal lift his feet, representing the winds carrying him to the top. The blue of the sky reflected on the waters, and he decides today is the perfect day to sing for his siren again.

Letting his lashes rest on his cheeks, he plays the same mellow tune at the docks, sometimes peeking with one eye to see if the siren is there.

That's when he hears it. The sound of a loud splash ringing in his ear. His lyre playing turns quick and exited, when looking down to see a bobbing head, and a colourful siren tail behind it.

Venti waves his hand wildly, stopping his lyre playing momentarily.

"A real siren!"

The siren freezes, and sinks a bit deeper in the water. The green bard slowly floats down with a friendly smile.

"Did you enjoy my music?" He asks in glee, waiting for an answer. Venti hovers right above the water so his clothes won't get wet. He sees the siren's eyes look at the instrument in his hand and pushes it to their face, making them lean back a bit from shock. "Do you wanna try the lyre?"

"The lyre?" The siren repeats, gliding a finger on the wood of the instrument.

"Just don't sing okay? I can't drown yet, my pride is still high, and the kids there would be in dismay."

The siren laughs, now gripping on the lyre, "Do you always speak like this?"

"Yep!" He says, relieved you feel comfortable with him and seem friendly too. He scratches the back of his head. "Although... you're taking this lightly. Is it true your singing drowns people?" He asks politely.

The tip of the siren's finger touches their lip, thinking. "Well, in some cases, it does."

Venti's eyes widen.

"But not in the way your folktale mention it!" The siren continues, now clasping on the lyre that Venti let go of, playing a few strings. "Sometimes when our folk sing, the sailors are curious where the singing comes from. But the sailor that spread the story of the deadly, singing sirens is The Sailor That Can't Swim."

"The Sailor That Can't Swim? Now that's a tale I need to hear! Though, I must say, I do pity for him."

The siren splashes Venti, making him dripping in cold water. The berette on his head now droops to his eyes. He grins mischievously as he wrings the water out, showing the hair he hides. A strong gust of wind dries the siren's face, making them go back in the water to splash Venti.

"Right, so," the siren pops out their head again. "It was my great great grandfather that actually sang the song. The sailor was curious and fell off his ship, but he didn't know how to swim and drowned. His first mate blamed my great great grandfather's singing for making his captain drown. We're not bad actually. We stopped singing music so close to the surface."

"Wouldn't that be a sight," the bard hums, listening to the song you play on his lyre while looking at the sky above. "Say, Siren. What do you want me to call you? Let me know before the day turns night"

"You ask me my name before telling me yours?" The siren teases, giving his lyre back.

"Ah! My apologies, I'm Venti the bard!... Uh, I can't seem to get a word that rhymes with 'apologies' that go great with my sentence, so I hope you accept my repentance."

"It's alright." The siren says. "I'm [Name]. It's not everyday I can make friends with someone from the surface."

[Name] draws a figure in the air. "My first surface friends told me to be wary of others, but I think I can trust you," [Name] glances at the green glass, strapped on Venti's hip. "One of them even has the same looking glass orb as you. A vision he called it."

Venti shrugs with a smile, feeling like he knows the person the siren was referring to, "I would like to make a song for you, [Name]. Let's have others know what a wonderful siren you are."

Kazuha:

He sits at the side of the ship, playing his leaf like a flute beautifully. The crewmates on The Crux hum the same notes on repeat. They are broken records.

"Even the sturgeon and the ray, they get the urge and start to play!" A kid sings out loud, skipping behind Kazuha.

"Hmm hmm mmm" the kid hums, replacing the words he doesn't know with just the tune itself. "Under the sea!"

Kazuha sighs, letting go of his leaf for the ocean winds to take. His finger traces the lines of the ship, bored and somewhat annoyed. Beidou's crew had been singing the same song for hours after leaving Liyue, showing no signs of ever stopping. It was like a curse.

He looks over the horizon, the crescent moon shining on the ocean, making the ripples turn to satin sheets covering the water. The world is asleep, but not The Crux Crew.

He lets his hair free from the tie; snow hair moves with the breeze, waiting for his friend to appear.

A tall woman settles her hand on the boy's shoulders, sighing. "It's time to get rest. Your siren friend won't come, especially if sirens don't exist," she says saying the last part to herself.

"Beidou," Kazuha greets without turning his head.

"Come on, kid," Beidou insists. "It's late."

Kazuha stays seated, looking over the waters to find his siren friend. "I think I'll stay here a bit more. The ocean calls me as much as the wind."

He feels Beidou's hand leaving is shoulder. He silently thanks him for respecting his wishes.

"Good night, Captain. See you tomorrow," he says waving her off.

The sea captain lifts a hand while turning away, even when she knows Kazuha isn't looking.

Kazuha waits.

He waits some more.

Maybe Beidou is right. His siren friend won't be back today. He'll just wait again tomorrow.

He begins to stand until he sees a familiar figure in the ocean.

"[Name]," he breathes out gently.

A shimmering siren tail waves at him instead of a hand. Kazuha laughs and waves eagerly. He walks along the side, reaching one of the 'emergency boats' strapped on the ship and untangles its ropes, letting it fall to the ocean with a splash.

He gently falls down, the winds he summons cushioning his landing onto the small boat. His ruby eyes spot something in your hand and he asks about it.

"This? A weird green boy gave me this thing called a lyre. Said he had tons more so he gave me this one after making a song with me." [Name] presents it to Kazuha with both hands, grinning. "The boy even taught me a song."

"Oh?" He tilts his head, "Go ahead, play the song. Perhaps some day we may duet."

The siren sends him a thumbs up and start pulling the strings of a lyre.

Kazuha feels his eye twitch. "This song... what's the name?"

"Do you not like it?"

"No it's just... the crew was singing this song all day. I was wondering what song it is."

"Oh the green boy and I made it. I didn't know it would go that famous!"

"Hmm, keep playing."

Kazuha didn't mind the song the siren plays. After all, when [Name] plays the song, it sounds enchanting. He understands why people tend to fall overboard when hearing a siren play music. In fact, he almost drowned himself when hearing his siren friend sing for the first time.

...

He was preparing a boat to escape Inazuma by a secluded beach covered with sakura trees and many plants of nature.

Placing the planks in one spot, he hears a song in the sea.

Strange.

Enchanted by the singing, he walks out to sea. The water reaching his ankles, his knee then soon his chest to look for what was making the music. The sounds of nature call him back, desperately trying to make him safe, but he was too curious. The singing stops and Kazuha sinks under the sea to hear clearer, but instead his eyes widen and a few bubbles escape his mouth.

Glowing eyes stare at him.

A few scales pattern adorning their face. He looks behind the face and sees a tail, a fish tale. He knows it's a siren.

He sinks deeper, noting the details on the siren. How human ears aren't there, it's replaced by these webbed-like frills looking like a crown. He is amazed, and it seems the siren is too by seeing land legs for the first time so close.

Kazuha kicks his feet up, remembering he needs air to breathe, but a pesky seaweed wrapped around his leg, not letting go. The salt water stings his eyes, hurting more from every second. The lungs that need air start to fail him.

The siren in front of him flicks it's tail, quickly weaving their hands to untangle the boy from the seaweed.

The last of the bubbles escape Kazuha's lips. He shuts his eyes as he feels the drag of a current and the arms of the siren taking him to who knows where.

"So many... regrets," he thinks, letting himself be carried by a creature from only fairytales.

His head breaks the water tension and he immediately gasps for air. He coughs out water, chest heaving against the sandy beach, trying to calm himself. He stills, watching the siren lay on their stomach next to him, drawing flowers and fishes on the sand with the tip of their finger.

Sand sticks on Kazuha's wet skin and clothes.

"Thank you," he says weakly.

The siren perks their head up, hearing Kazuha's voice. "You're welcome!" They return to drawing on the sand and speak up without diverting attention from the drawing, "You're... the first human I've met."

Kazuha props himself up, his elbows acting as support. "Oh really? You're the first siren I met."

"No, duh. You had this dumb look on your face when you saw me," the siren teases, now looking at Kazuha. "All the other sirens say that humans are looking to hurt us. Why is it you don't want to hurt me?"

"Well- I was on the verge of dying."

The sound of feet stomping on the ground startles Kazuha and his new friend. Both of them sit up straight, feeling the ground shake.

"The Raiden Shogun..."

Kazuha flips his head to his unfinished boat and stands, quickly trying to complete it.

"Human," the siren calls, now back in the ocean. Kazuha looks at the siren. "Your broken boat will not take you anywhere. Just hold on to my back."

Kazuha chuckles and runs to the siren, knowing what they said is true. The guards will take him the second they reach him.

He trudges through the water, and clasps his arms around the siren's neck. "I know of a ship that can hide me for the time being." He says.

"So... what's your name?"

...

The song [Name] plays ceases, and Kazuha claps his hands lightly, careful not to wake the crew. He gives a small, "Heh" and leans on his small boat to be closer to the siren's face.

Their faces draw closer and [Name's] cheeks feel warm. Kazuha looks like a prince under the moon and stars shining on him.

Delicate hands make their way to cradle [Name's] jaw, making their foreheads touch. His thumb swipes [Name's] bottom lip all while gazing into their dilated eyes.

"I think your siren family are calling you," Kazuha says cheekily and quickly moving back away from [Name] after hearing the sound of other sirens calling for them.

"Oh, I- Well-" [Name] takes a deep breath before speaking, "Will you be here again?"

"Just as the moon awaits for the sun to rise once more, I will stay as well. I'll wait for your arrival once more at the same spot."

Beidou:

The well known Captain of the Crux Fleet does not believe in sirens. Dragons and the water form called Osial is one thing. Sirens, or better yet- merpeople are a kids' tale in her mind. Not even after Kazuha telling her he befriended a siren.

It's a child's tale; a myth not to believe in, which is ridiculous in Kazuha's opinion because they live in a world of myths.

She stands, sitting on a box of crates, peeking at her anemo wielding friend untangle the ropes of the emergency boat to get down closer to the waters.

Despite her crew telling her to rest at nights, she doesn't. As captain, it's her duty to keep watch after all her crew members, ensuring full safety on the fleet. She watches Kazuha always docking down from her ship to he his siren, but she never follows, only seeing his white hair descend from her sight.

Kazuha harnesses the wind to lift himself up back on the ship after hours being with the so-called siren. His hands move, controlling the wind once again to lift the boat, strapping it back on the ship. His ruby eyes glint to Beidou, who waves at him.

"Enjoy time with the siren?"

Kazuha sighs, knowing Beidou's doing this for the sake of it. "Beidou, they're real. My friend and every other siren in the waters." He says, trying to cover his flushed face by turning away from her.

"Right, right. Well, you only have one hour to sleep at most until the sun rises again."

"What about you?" Asks Kazuha, his back still facing Beidou. "Not even the bravest of warriors could stand their posts if they lack the energy to do so."

Beidou places her hands on her hips and laughs, "Come on, kid. I'll even tuck you in."

"Thank you... but I'm quite sure I can tuck myself in."

"Nonsense. You'll be tucked in."

She takes Kazuha to his own chambers in the ship, amused how he did not struggle against her.

After tucking him in, the tall captain stands at the figure of her ship and overlooks the sea. It is coincidental how when the topic of sirens came up the conversations, there was a song accompanied by it. The song will be the death of her.

Her chestnut hair weaves in the wind as she inhales deeply, enjoying the crisp air. She spots the seen peeking out from it's blanket of blue waves. She is blessed with another day.

One by one, her crew starts to file out. She greets them a good morning and with a surprise, "Crew! We're heading to Liyue. Chef Xiangling sent her kind invitation to eat for free!"

Woops and hoorays echo. Food made by Xiangling is the best.

The Captain lifts a hand and everyone quiets, "Set sail to Liyue!"

Upon reaching Liyue, Beidou swears something was following them, but every time she looks back, there would be nothing. She shrugs it off, thinking it was the lack of sleep getting to her and continues to lower the sails, preparing to land.

"I'll meet you there," she tells her crew. They accept their orders, already knowing were to go. They chatter their way to Wanmin Restaurant. She turns to Kazuha, seeing as he won't leave without her. "Kazuha, has something been following us?" She asks, knowing his sensitivity to things around him.

"Yes, but you won't believe me if I said what, or who, was following us."

Beidou groans, "Kazuha, sirens are just a folklore. I've spent years in my reckless teenage life looking for sirens. There just aren't any." She slaps Kazuha's back, "Let's go eat. You still look weary."

Kazuha purses his lips, looking at his Captain dead in the eyes. "[Name] is waiting below this ship. [Name] wouldn't follow us to Liyue unless something needs to be said." He waits for Beidou's reply.

"Alright, it's about time I met this siren friend of yours."

Surprised, Kazuha parts his mouth. "Wait, really?"

Beidou gives no answer, but instead unties the boat Kazuha uses to go 'meet his siren friend.' She waits on the tiny boat for Kazuha to join. When he takes a step in, Beidou releases the ropes she was once holding and falls to the ocean. This part of the ship is hidden from the people of Liyue, and Kazuha thanks his luck because who knows what people will do when they see a siren?

The small boat rocks side to side, balancing itself. Beidou lazily reaches for the water and splashes Kazuha's face who only tightens his lip in response. "Relax," the woman teases. "Your friend will be here if they're real, right?"

Kazuha summons a leaf, twiddling it with his fingers, waiting until he jumps in the water.

Beidou sharply turns to Kazuha, leaning over the boat to reach for him. "Kazuha!"

She jumps in after him with a smooth dive.

And that's when she sees that sirens are true.

The salt water stings her eyes as she looks at Kazuha making hang motions, pointing to her and up to the surface. The siren nods, understanding, swimming to Beidou. They wave, chuckling with the jaw-slacked face the sea captain makes.

Bubbles escape her lungs, so she treads up quickly, breathing in the air and then coming back down. Kazuha swims beside the siren and shows a smug face, as if saying "What did you say about sirens?"

Divine is the only word to describe Kazuha's siren friend. From the shimmering tale to the beauty of their smile, Beidou can only describe the siren as simply divine (a word Ningguang taught her).

The siren's webbed-like ear perks up to the surface. They tap Kazuha's shouder and cup their ears and point up.

Breathtaking.

Beidou notes how Kazuha and his friend communicate with each other so effectively with only a look in the eye and a few hand movements.

Kazuha nods, smiling then swims up to the surface, but Beidou stays, amazed by the tail of the siren.

"Up," the siren mouths. Beidou remembers the pain in her lungs for not having to get air in a while. She swims up, giving the siren one last look and breaking free from the water.

Strands of brown hair stick to her skin, looking at Kazuha with so much child-like wonder.

"Kazuha, is your siren friend single by any chance?"

Albedo:

Rumours of the singing siren spread through Mondstadt. Greeting Timaeus and Sucrose, he ignores the new song that spread around Teyvat called "A Siren's Tale," but he can't help but wonder if the tales are true.

On rare days Albedo isn't on Dragonspine or his office, he's sketching alongside the water and the marine life inside. It's a new interest he's taken in after learning everything above land. The ocean is so huge, there's an endless amount of questions under the sea.

He finishes the last stroke of a drawing. The Snapdragon and the crab next to it look realistic in his canvas. He sits on an isolated rock, a good distance away from the beach, enjoying the calming tunes of the ocean.

Wait- tunes?

He almost drops his canvas and charcoal, making eye contact with a bobbing head. Curious eyes flit from Albedo to his sketch in hand.

His immediate reaction is to create a flower to lift and up to glide back to shore, but he can't.

The stranger drifts closer to the rock Albedo sits on, revealing a tail that flickers behind it.

A siren.

"You aren't Venti, but I'll take it. I love someone of arts and crafts

Albedo tilts his head quizzically, charmed, "I am indeed not Venti, but thank you for the compliment." He takes a while, studying the details on the siren. "You're not what the song describes you as."

Lifting themselves onto the rock beside Albedo, the siren brings up their tail to wrap around what they sit on. "The song? Oh the one Venti made. I'm so sure we described myself perfectly, partly because I helped make it."

Albedo takes another canvas from his bag and draws circles to get the base of a face, "Well, physically yes. It captures your looks, but never did it once mention how enchanting you are."

The siren sputters, obviously not expecting a stranger to flirt. "What- huh?"

Albedo laughs, looking at the siren that sits next to him, analyzing their features before returning to his sketch. "I apologize. Socializing is not my thing."

"Yeah, I could tell. People usually tell me their names before saying things like that. Granted, I only met three other people before you."

"One being Venti?"

"Yeah. I visit him around this time everyday, but he said he's struggling to pay back a bartender so he's hiding with an old friend in Liyue. His friend's name is Peepaw. Should've been back by now, but he's gone."

"..Oh."

Two fingers push down the drawing and he looks at the siren, confused.

"Are you drawing me?" They grin. "It's fantastic, but why?"

Albedo explains, "I tend to sketch what fascinates me. Your beauty was surprising, I couldn't help but draw you." His charcoal grazes the canvas so swiftly, it's dancing on ice. The black tool turns to a stub, until it turns to nothing but ashes on his finger. His sketch is only half finished.

"Excuse this lousy drawing. I appear to be out of charcoal."

The siren jumps into the water and comes back up with rusted metal from a sword. "Will this work?"

"Ah, that's a sword. I can't use that for sketching."

"Oh..."

Albedo lifts a finger, a thought is said out loud, "I realize I have yet to ask your name. I'm Albedo, Chief Alchemist of The Knights of Favonius."

"Wow that's a long name." The siren takes a deep breath and speaks in one go, "Hello, Albedochiefalchemistofthenightsoffavonius. Pleasure to meet you, I'm [Name]."

"How charming." He says, putting his canvas in his bag. "I mean to ask another question, would it be alright to visit you again soon? You live under the sea, surely you know about the mysteries we have there."

[Name] looks at him like he was an alien. "Are you for real?"

"I'm pretty sure I am."

"You can just tell me you want to hang out. I know I'm fun," they say puffing their chest, proud of themselves.

"You certainly have high views of yourself," Albedo laughs, covering the bottom half of his face with his charcoal stained hand. "I'll be here tomorrow, if you would take your time to see me again."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #genshin #venti x reader #genshin venti #beidou #beidou x reader #albedo #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x reader

319 notes · View notes

over--and-out · 2 years

Text

Rime Route prompt

Here's your food, enjoy

Your eyelids were clenched shut, bright light flashing against them. You had thought that maybe somebody lost their cosplay prop, so you bent down to pick up the (staff/sword.) When the bright light shined in your eyes, you clenched them shut as tight as you could. Now it felt like you were floating on air. There was a soft humming sound all around you, almost as if you were the one humming. Your breathing evened and you felt calmer now. The calmer you got, the more distant the humming sounded until it sounded as if a person was standing just in front of you letting their voice run free. It was beautiful, melodious. You felt compelled to draw closer to it as if a siren was calling out to you.

Maybe one was.

With great hesitation, your eyes fluttered open and the more they did so, the gentler the light was on your eyes. As if somebody was turning the brightness down as you were opening your eyes.

A gasp left your lips as you found yourself staring into beautiful garnet red eyes, the person across from you doing the same. You were frozen, staring at those beautiful doe eyes that were framed by long lashes and tanned skin.

You stepped back and the person across from you did the same, slight confusion clicking in your brain as you noticed that you weren't actually standing on ground. You noticed that the person across from you mirrored your actions down to every breath, a perfect replica of your movements.

They were bare from their waist up, hair long and a pale coral red color. You noticed a scar mapping across their chest, spiralling out like a flame dancing along the flesh. The most prominent thing you could notice were the soft looking ears protruding from the side of his head, and the horns coming from the top of their head.

"You're staring." His voice was airy and melodious. Almost calming.

"Was that you? The humming earlier?" Curiosity laced your tone and you wrung your hands together. Their eyes widened and a warm blush spread across his face.

"Ah, possibly? I wasn't aware I was doing so... But might I ask where we are? Or..." Their voice came to a sudden halt and you noticed what he was looking at right as he did. That thin white line that misted between the two of you. Protruding out of the middle of both of your chests and a glowing orb in the center between you, you both felt drawn to each other. The male tilted his head in curiosity. You could see how his hair was getting paler, and it seemed as if you were almost pulling his life from him.

Your eyes widened when a smaller orb pulled out of his chest and he gasped. He gripped his chest, his gaze snapping to you and sharpening and you noticed the white starting to bloom at his routes.

"You..."

You felt yourself weaken drastically, a sudden pull drawing you from consciousness. You stumbled to your knees, but when you looked up, the male was right in front of you.

"Thief, you're stealing my relic!" His eyes sharpened and you gasped when he suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. You could hear his voice waver and he trembled. "Why are you doing this, why did you bring me back?" You didn't answer, your mouth gaping and in a snap the warmth in his eyes was gone and the misty white flooded into your body.

You gasped as you felt yourself being pulled from the very void you stood on but a sudden hand around your neck stopped you. You choked on your breath as you were yanked to face the man. His flat eyes glared into yours and black spiderwebbing tendrils of mist swirled around him until he was clothed in sheer robes. His hackles raised in a snarl and his voice was dangerously low.

"Give it back... GIVE IT BACK!" You harshly shoved him away and he growled at you, but it was just enough of an opening for you to jump back. "YOU BRING ME BACK JUST TO KILL ME AGAIN?! I WON'T LET YOU! YOU LITTLE-" You felt yourself drifting away the longer he spoke, a dark green surrounding your body and just as he was about to grab you again, you were gone.

A loud gasp left your lips as you felt yourself land on a cold tile floor, warm arms wrapped around you.

'I'll find you eventually, don't you think you've escaped...' The words echoed in your mind and you knew that you had just barely escaped him.

Oh, what would have happened if he got his claws around your neck again...

#rime last legacy #last legacy #fanfic #angst #rime route #devs please give us a rime route #hire me for a rime route at least

28 notes · View notes

marvelsswansong · 4 years

Text

Peach Lipgloss

Summary: He’s a sophmore at MIT who has hung up his superhero suit for university. She’s a well known killer with the power to seduce and manipulate anyone she pleases. Of course the universe would make them soulmates.

Words: 6.1K

Tags: soulmate au (soulmates can’t hurt each other), forbidden love (kinda), college!Peter, femmefatale!reader. Violence, heavy sexual themes, proceed with caution.

a/n: REPOST since first one didn’t show up in tags :( sorry to those who already read this 4 hours ago

-----------------------------------

Massachusetts, USA

Quickly shoving his crinkled notes into his bag, Peter was the first person to be out of the classroom the moment Theoretical Physics was done and over with. Reaching for the zipper as he made his way out the marbled doors, he paused at the sight of the crumpled red and black fabric in his bag.

He didn’t know why he still carried his spiderman suit with him, considering the vow he’d made to pack it away along with his hero life the moment he arrived at MIT. But the lingering sense of danger and doubt never left him so he could never quite part with it, so he always kept the suit and extra shooters in a concealed compartment in his backpack.

He never knew when he’d need it, he reasoned.

Crossing the large green lawn, he breathed in the earthy air, staring up at the clear blue sky. Fall was starting to roll into the state of Massachusetts, the trees lining the sidewalk were orange and red, and the lawn of daffodils under the library building had begun to bloom. He greeted a group of people he recognized from his engineering class as he crossed over to the south-side of the campus, passing by a row of cluttered dorms. He checked his wristwatch- the one May had gifted him before he left for university- still 10 minutes left until class started.

He slipped into the empty classroom and sat on the first row of chairs when his cellphone started ringing. Peter frowned, his mind failing to think of who would need to speak to him during school hours. He unlocked it to see Tony’s name appear on the screen, a sight only reserved for emergencies.

“We’ll only call you if we can’t do it without you.” his mentor had said, the day before Peter had left for MIT.

“Hello?” Peter answered quietly, as a few students began to fill into the room.

“How quickly can you come to Santorini?”

Tony sounded exhausted on the other side of the phone. Peter nervously chewed on his lip, not liking where this conversation was going.

“With all due respect, Mr.Stark, I can’t just drop everything right now and fly to Greece. I have-”

“Nuclear Science and Engineering right now, I know. I also know you have finals in a month but that’s nothing I can’t call in a favour for. I happen to be good friends with the Dean and the Provost of MIT.”

More people began filling the room as the professor walked in, forcing Peter to cover his phone with his hand and whisper, turning away from the crowd.

“I get that, but, I’m taking a break from the whole hero business. I want to focus on university and having a life without risking it every few days, you know?”

“And I agree that you should have all those things. Come on, Peter. I haven’t called you for a mission for the first year and a half of your university. I meant what I said when I told you we’d only call you if we literally couldn’t do it without you. I’m begging you, kid.”

Peter could imagine Tony pinching the bridge of his nose, pacing around the room in frustration while trying to convince Peter. He was reluctant, but the desperation in Tony’s voice didn’t go unnoticed and his hands were moving faster than his brain. Packing his things back up, he quietly exited the classroom and sighed into the phone.

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“Great. Don’t worry about your classes or your exams, I’ll make sure it’s handled. Pack enough for two weeks. I’m sending you a private jet to your nearest airport in two hours. See you then.”

-----------------------------------

Santorini, Greece

Peter felt like he was melting under the hot Grecian sun, the sticky humid air mixing with the ocean breeze blowing in from the southwest. He adjusted his sunglasses, the sweat causing it to slide down the bridge of his nose repeatedly, his skin smelling of an odd combination of aftershave and sunscreen. It felt strange, to say the least, to go from spending months in grey sweatpants and thick burgundy hoodies in the freezing cold weather of Cambridge to now being dressed down in a red Hawaii shirt and grey khakis in the sunny island of Santorini.

“You okay, Peter?” Steve called out from behind him, wearing a not so obvious disguise of a baseball cap paired with white rimmed sunglasses. That said, they needed to ‘blend in’, as Tony put in, and Peter had to admit- among the crowds, they just looked like a group of innocent American tourists. And not a band of superheroes, trying to catch a super-villain in her acts.

“I’m fine, just… thirsty.” he replied, swallowing thickly.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Steve told Peter to stay put and disappeared into a nearby path lined with shops, leaving the young boy in the middle of the cobblestone street. The rest of the team were scattered across the island in an attempt to catch her, an infamous killer with no name, no trace. Just a pretty face and a signature carving of a heart on her victim’s bodies. He’d gotten the information dump on the plane ride here, in which Maria drilled the information into his head.

“This is all the information we’ve gathered on her so far.” her tone was somber as she flicked over a thin manila folder to him, which he opened with a flick of his thumb before holding up the piece of paper.

“It’s one page.”

She bit her lip, frustrated.

“We’ve been unsuccessful in gathering much information about her. What we have on her is ambiguous at best, except a few things: she’s about 20, she’s a master seductress, able to seduce anyone into carrying out her commands. She kills her prey and carves a heart onto their bodies. And the only way to avoid her powers is to avoid looking into her eyes.”

“Is there even a photo of what she looks like?” he questioned, his curiosity piqued.

“A few we’ve managed to piece together from some security cameras.”

She tossed him a few pictures onto his lap, each varying in quality. From the set, however, he could make out that she had (h/c) hair, a light/dark/middle skin-tone, and was of a short/regular/tall stature. It looked like she was wearing a sparkly silver dress in the first photo, which was taken on the side of a street in Milan, then a pink checkered tank top and matching skirt in the second one, taken in Paris, and an over-sized black hoodie with black heels on a bridge in London.

The photos were either too dark or taken too far away to really catch her face, but just by looking at these photos he could tell- she was beautiful. Stunning, even. Even without powers he was sure she could seduce anyone she liked.

“Thing is, she always gets away right before we can catch her. SHIELD has been onto her for a while but no matter who we send, no matter how discreet, low level or which gender… they end up dead or return back dazed with no memory of what happened.”

Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Is that a part of it?”

Maria sighed..

“Depends. Sometimes she doesn’t kill the people she uses her powers on and the victims just end of having a dazed, hazy feeling for a few hours. They then have a hard time remembering what exactly happened, making our job infinitely harder.”

An uneasy silence filled the air, as Peter shifted in his seat. This sounded like the hardest mission yet.

“So why am I needed?”

“Your supernatural senses allow you to sense any immediate danger or harm nearby you, regardless of sight, right? So we’re hoping that you’re able to fight and capture her without ever being under her influence, by closing your eyes and relying on your ‘spidey senses’ instead. Do you still have your web shooters on you?”

He nodded.

“If you find her, web her to her surroundings, turn around so you’re not looking into her eyes, then call us over. She can’t influence all of us at once, so that’d give us an advantage and plenty of time to sedate her and bring her over.”

The web shooter concealed underneath his wrist watch was starting to itch, breaking the somewhat vacational bliss he was feeling from sitting on the edge of the white wall and watching the waves go by. Checking the time with a flick of his wrist, it dawned on him that Steve had disappeared to get him some water for a bit too long. Fifteen minutes to be exact.

What was going on?

He slipped into the alleyway where Steve disappeared, wandering straightforward rather aimlessly until he caught sight of the familiar blonde hair a few feet away. Except, his back was turned towards Peter as he lounged on a chair on the outskirts of a cafe, and he was talking to someone he didn’t recognize. Adrenaline kicked in, forcing Peter to duck behind a nearby corner before his eyes fell on the woman Steve was talking to.

It was her.

The woman in the photos.

And fuck, you were stunning. You weren’t wearing anything particularly fancy, just a white lacy sundress and pink pastel flats, but every crevice of the fabric clung to your skin glowing in the caramel sunlight, making the modest piece somehow sensual and teasing. Sitting with one leg crossed over the other he felt as if you were teasing any wandering gaze to land upon your skin, calling out with the same lull as a siren’s. Your lips were painted glossy pink and Peter realized that your eyes were glowing the same shade, a glittery candy floss pink that reflected in Steve’s previously blue orbs.

“So what brings you here, soldier?” you questioned, toying with the soldier.

Your voice dripped like sweet honey and wrapped around your surroundings like a vice.

“On a mission to bring you in.” Peter noted that Steve’s voice was suddenly robotic and eerily not like him.

You pursed your lips, crossing your arms.

“So SHIELD is still after me, huh? You know, even HYDRA was less insisting.”

Wrapping your hand around Steve’s arm, you brought him closer towards you as you felt the cold steel surface of your knife shift underneath your dress, the blade itching to dig into fresh skin.

“I should kill you, you know. You and the Avengers just keep on coming after me and I’m getting tired of playing around…” you drawled, quiet for no one else to hear you except for Peter with his superhero senses.

Peter could feel his heart pound in his chest, as Steve stood motionless while you took out the large sharp blade and started trailing it down Steve’s leg, hidden from plain sight, with not enough pressure to break the skin just yet. Peter quickly took out his phone and alerted Tony of his current location, as you paid for the meal and led Steve towards a dark alleyway, surely to dispose of the super soldier.

Tony’s reply was immediate.

‘Got it. Stay put. Don’t interfere unless you have to.’

Crouching back down, Peter quickly took off his backpack and changed into his suit, before slowly trailing behind you.

The flat side of the blade was now underneath Steve’s throat, right where it could slice through the jugular veins and kill him. His pink hooded eyes were still looking at you as you smiled, leaning in and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“Sad… you were one of my favorites.”

You raised your blade in the air, ready to slash his throat, when a flash of white passed by and knocked the blade out of your hand. Peter quickly ran out, one hand over his eyes and the other outstretched to pull Steve backwards and out of harm’s way.

“S-stay back.” he muttered, the lack of vision plus the adrenaline adding to his anxiety. Your eyes widened upon seeing the red and black hero standing in front of you, in Greece, of all places.

This was certainly an interesting development.

“Now why would I do that?” you asked, pulling a gun out of your thigh holster and aiming it towards him.

“Because the rest are coming.” he replied, thankful that is voice was no longer shaking.

Your eyes widened at the response before you pouted, trailing your bottom lip dangerously with your tongue.

“In that case… Captain-”

Steve stood right up straight at the sound of your voice, pushing Peter backwards.

“Take him out for me, would you?”

And before Peter could do or say anything, Steve swung his fist in his direction, forcing Peter to open his eyes and jump back. By the time he looked at where you were standing before you were gone, the realization sticking in his mind for a brief moment before Steve tried to knock him back down again.

-----------------------------------

Tokyo, Japan

A few days after the disaster in Santorini (Steve still wouldn’t look him in the eye after he snapped out of his violent trance three hours later when the effect wore off), the team had gotten word that she was spotted out and about in Japan. And that led Peter here, standing in the middle of a busy street crossing, surrounded by big flashing billboards and tall glass skyscrapers. He adjusted his light rimmed glasses- they had a tiny microscopic camera attached to the lens that could record everything- as he shoved through the busy crowd, the address written in the note inside his coat pocket replaying in his head.

After a few unsuccessful conversations with locals who were passing by, he was lucky enough to run into someone who spoke moderate English. She gave him an odd look when he handed over the piece of paper and she typed in the address onto her phone, but nonetheless pointed him in the right direction. He thanked her before walking east, the loud noise of scurrying feet and the whirring of cars driving by blocking his thoughts.

“Peter? Can you hear me?” Tony’s voice rang out through his earpiece, causing Peter to discreetly adjust it. After the not so successful attempt last time to capture her, the team had advised a new plan- Peter would go in alone without his suit but with just his web shooters, pretending to be just another patron at the club, and talk to her discreetly before trapping her with his web before the others could take her in.

He was just lucky his face was concealed the first time they met.

“Yes. I’m almost at the address you gave me. It’s a club, right?”

There was a momentary pause.

“Yeah, it’s a club. Point is, be careful. We’ll be watching your every move and we can hear everything that’s going on, so don’t worry.”

“I’ll be cautious.”

The building that matched the address was a modestly sized glass building with steel doors and a menacing looking bodyguard outside, who asked him for his ID in perfect English. After giving the man his school ID he was let inside where a skimpily clad woman asked him for his coat, the little blue bikini number leaving little to the imagination. His face felt hot and his throat tightened when he hastily took off his coat and gave it away to the woman, as the realization settled in.

He wasn’t in just any club.

He was in a stripclub.

Swallowing his embarrassment the best he could, he quietly went through the next set of glass doors, which led out to a dim hallway lit up by bright pink LED lights. A slew of men and a couple of women sat around the bar and near the light up stages, where several girls in tight dresses twirled around the pole set to a sensual song. It was hard to make out the faces under the dim blue lighting, so he opted to blend in by walking to the bar in the middle and ordering a drink. He tried to look anywhere but where the scantily clad women were and stared at a nearby TV screen instead, when a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Strawberry Daiquiri, please.”

You were facing straight forward, thus allowing Peter to catch a quick glance at you. You sensed a set of eyes on your figure and looked back, only to see Peter blushing and looking down at his lap to avert his gaze. Sliding over a few seats, you leaned against the bar table, the slit on your mini skirt exposing your upper thigh.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” you commented slyly, drinking in the sight of him. He was younger than most of your prey- you preferred to go for men who were older than you- but he looked just as good as the others. Tousled brown curls, defined muscles flexing underneath his white polo shirt, a shy demeanor… He was adorable.

“S-sorry.” he murmured, still not looking into your eyes. You figured he was nervous and chuckled, taking a slow slip of your sugary drink.

“It’s alright… you’re not a part of this usual crowd, are you?”

“Good. Keep on talking to her to distract her. We’re on our way.” Tony spoke in Peter’s ear. He regained his confidence to look up for a brief moment to snatch his drink off the table, the strong taste of whiskey burning his throat.

“What makes you say that?” he asked quietly, swirling his drink with his straw. You leaned closer, the sweet draft of your vanilla and honeycomb lotion drifting over him as you smirked.

“Well, for starters, you’re not looking at any of the strippers here. And two, you’re not even looking at me.”

He needed an excuse, so he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind.

“Sorry, I just, uh, I have a hard time looking at pretty girls.”

You were caught off guard by that comment, and it showed for a brief moment on your face. You were used to men calling you a slew of names, but calling you pretty? In such a sincere way? While blushing? This was new. A new urge surged through your veins as you placed your hand on his lap, rubbing his thigh.

“Then what’d you say we go somewhere more private? Like the VIP Lounge? You can look at me all you want then.”

He nodded shyly and allowed you to drag him to the back area of the club, where you slipped a security guard five hundred dollars to let you pass the velvet rope with him behind you. There was no one else in sight, just the two of them and the soft cushiony sofa lining the walls. His throat felt dry as you pushed him down onto the seat, your body straddling his as you climbed onto his lap.

“So-”

A sharp ringing noise cried out in his ear, causing Peter to yelp in pain and rip out the earpiece in reflex. You quickly put two and two together before ripping off his glasses and grabbing his chin to force him to look at you, the brief moment of shock and confusion on his face enough time for you to put him under your trance. The tension left his body as his eyes turned pastel pink, allowing you to crawl off his lap and crush the earpiece under your heels. You did the same to the glasses, just for good measure, before taking out the wallet from his jeans.

You examined the cards inside, starting with the ID cards. Name: Peter Parker. Sophomore at MIT. A Stark Tower entry pass?

You scowled, tossing the wallet to the side. That probably meant they were on their way right now. Taking out a four inch blade from your bra, you decided you needed to send them a message. Pushing his head to the side, you were ready to slice his throat, the tip of your blade against his skin, and-

Nothing.

Your hand stayed frozen mid-air, your brain screaming at your body to carry on with the action but your body remained frozen. Bringing your hand back down, you tried again, this time a stab to the heart. But you physically couldn’t harm him, no matter the angle at which you tried.

“Fuck.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you dropped the blade in horror and stepped backwards, the realization settling in your gut. If you couldn’t kill him, that meant…

The thought horrified you to no end, the kind of immediate horror that made you want to throw up onto the floor, the previously loud pounding of the music drowned to the background as the walls began to close in on you. Blinking away your tears, you commanded Peter to stay sitting in his room before grabbing your coat and exiting the room, being able to find a nearby window that you could jump down from. Your feet met the ground as you wrapped the coat closer to your body, your heels clicked against the pavement as you quickly hired a cab back to your mansion.

This was bad.

So, so bad.

-----------------------------------

New York, USA

When Peter awoke from his trance he was lying down on a soft bed with a weighted blanket in what seemed like the hospital wing of Stark Tower, with streaks of sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the window. His memory felt foggy, the last thing he remembered was being terrified when the earpiece malfunctioned and your eyes turned bright pink with anger. His thoughts were interrupted when Bruce walked into the room, a soft smile on his face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, handing over a glass of water. Peter accepted it, muttering a quiet thank you.

“Strange… What happened?”

The doctor sighed, biting his lower lip.

“We’re not sure. She crushed the glasses we gave you right after she found out you had an earpiece in, but when we entered the room, you were left unharmed, just sitting on the sofa.”

“Unharmed? I thought she liked to kill all her prey. Or at the very least, hurt them in some way.”

Bruce nodded, scribbling something onto his notepad.

“That’s the thing. We have no clue why you were the odd exception. Director Fury has been wracking his brain for the past seven hours trying to figure out why she spared you.”

A momentary silence passed by, as Peter looked up at the man with an unsure gaze.

“What now?” he asked, the thoughts of MIT and returning to Cambridge still in his mind.

“We’re going to try to monitor her route for a little longer and devise a new plan. I know Tony said you only needed two weeks off but Fury insists that you’re the key to capturing her and wants you to stay on for at least another week.”

Peter sighed, giving in.

“I guess that’s fine. I mean, what choice do I really have?”

-----------------------------------

Milan, Italy

It’d been a solid week since you last killed a man.

A whole seven days.

You were sure the Avengers were noticing your absence, trying to understand just why you’d spared one of their precious heroes and then went dark for a whole week afterwards. Just thinking back on that night made your stomach turn, the way adrenaline pumped through your veins as you were prepared to kill your soulmate.

For the first time in a while, you were disgusted with yourself. You had almost killed your soulmate, and in another universe where you could harm him, he would’ve been dead at your hands. It was getting harder and harder to remember why you’d started this life as you lounged in a private pool in Milan, the mansion overlooking a dark green forest.

It was in a dimly lit facility, a few hundred miles from here, that had turned you into this force of nature. Having lost your parents to a car accident at a young age, you were starved and anxious for any sort of money when you overheard that a scientist was offering hundreds of thousands of dollars to a woman who was willing to be his test subject. He was seductive, older, and richer. You fell for his promises and signed your life away at the age of 15.

Five months of torture later, you awoke to see that your eyes were glowing pink. When you made eye contact with a security guard nearby he wordlessly opened the prison door for you, and shot the scientist who experimented on you right on the spot. Grabbing the keys from the man’s lab coat, you pulled out the file filled with the names of the investors from all over the world who’d donated to help this man corrupt and abuse you.

And apparently, you weren’t his first test subject.

You grabbed his wallet on the way out and hopped into a car parked on the sidewalk of a gas station, and never looked back since then. You were young and scared, but hungry for revenge. You’d make sure those men would pay, and any other man who would try to take advantage of young girls, for that matter.

Killing was the only option.

Perhaps you’d lost your morality along the way, you reasoned. If you had any, in the first place. What started out as a semi-respectable revenge killing spree had somehow morphed into an exhilarating repeated cycle of seduction, murder and money. A disgusting sensation was settling in- perhaps guilt- as you huffed and threw away your sunglasses to the side.

No, you were doing the right thing. You knew the things that the Avengers believed above you- dangerous, homicidal, killer of innocent men. You laughed at that notion- as if most of your victims weren’t assholes in some ways, or didn’t treat you like an animal to be hunted down and ravaged. Sharpening your knife on the kitchen counter, you breathed in and out slowly, calming yourself down. This whole soulmate business was really messing with your head.

You needed a fresh new kill to settle your mind.

-----------------------------------

London, UK

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tony asked Peter for what felt like the thousandth time of that night, anxiety gnawing in his gut. In reality, there wasn’t much left to be discussed- Fury had insisted Peter stay on this project till the moment of your capture, even though at this point Tony had had enough of keeping Peter away from his education and was actually fighting for Peter’s right to return to university. But Peter felt a sort of curiosity and a pull to you that he couldn’t explain, so he found himself insisting on going on this mission.

They’d been able to finally find a link amongst the men you would target- well, at least a somewhat common link. A large majority of them happened to be investors in an Italian company that specialized in biochemical engineering, and it so happened that a handful of them were meeting in an exclusive rooftop party in London- making the chances of your appearance higher than ever.

“Remember, this time, don’t even hesitate. The moment you see her, shoot the tranquilizer in her direction so we can subdue her.” Steve repeated, handing over the tranquilizer gun to him. Peter nodded, slipping it into the waistband of his pants so that it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone nearby. “The rest of us will be in disguise around the party, right by your side, just in case anything goes wrong.”

“Sounds good.”

It was hard to keep the nerves off of his voice, when he himself felt on edge about the whole thing. There’d been countless of times, even before he was called in, when they were so close to capturing you. But you’d always managed to slip past their fingers at a moment’s notice, disappearing without a trance before popping up with a new victim on the other side of the world.

The party was in full swing when Peter strolled in, and his eyes immediately began to search for a woman of your stature. Gently pushing through the crowd of drunk dancers, he passed by the champagne bar when he saw someone who looked a lot like you from the back sitting by the balcony, chatting with another woman whom he did not recognize. Knowing it was too early to strike, Peter treated himself to a glass of wine, keeping one eye on you at all times. When the other woman got up to use the bathroom, Peter took out his gun from his waistband and positioned it perfectly, his finger on the trigger-

He couldn’t shoot.

He swore, checking to make sure the gun was fully loaded before trying again, but nothing.

Frustrated, he placed the glass aggressively on a nearby table and marched out onto the balcony, the gun still aimed at you. But no matter the mental gymnastics he put himself through, he just couldn’t fucking shoot.

“Peter?”

Your voice wrapped around him, soft and sweet, as Peter edged forward, the gun in his hand beginning to shake with all the effort he was putting into shooting. Then in his adrenaline clouded mind it finally clicked- the longing, the pull, the inability to harm you…

“Y-you’re my soulmate.” he stuttered, the last word hanging in the air. You looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes, as he stood motionless in his spot. He should be alerting the rest of the group. He should, at the very least, be tugging you into the party to be captured. But he can’t move, his feet stuck to the floor as the weight of gravity on his back seems to increase. He’s speechless as you lowly speak, your eyes fixated on the floor.

“Listen… you can’t hurt me, I can’t hurt you. Just let me go.”

“I can’t do that.” he says firmly, his consciousness slowly starting to seep back in.

She’s beautiful, he thinks, as she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him, her doe eyes wet from the salty tears beginning to form.

“Why not? It’s not like we can even be together.”

He slowly walks over and places his hands on you, expecting you to push him away. But you don’t, gaze still on the floor and unmoving. He doesn’t quite know what to say, the emotions overwhelming but the words not able to move past his tongue.

“Are you here with the other Avengers?”

He nods, swallowing thickly.

“Then I should get going.” you respond, starting to pull up the hems of your dress. But he stops you, grabbing you wrist, and stopping you mid-way.

“W-wait. Don’t go.”

You laugh halfheartedly.

“Then go where?”

He waits for a moment, but then he drops the question.

“Do you trust me?” he decides to ask, pulling your chin upwards. “Please don’t use your powers on me, just tell me. Do you trust me?”

There’s a slight hesitation on your end but you nod.

“Then come with me to New York.”

That elicits a violent reaction from you as you push him off, your eyes wide with anger and shock.

“Are you fucking serious? You want me to turn myself in?” you yell, not caring about who hears you. He clenches his jaw at your response.

“All I’m saying is I want my soulmate to be with me, and safe.”

You let out a bitter laugh at that statement.

“With you? Peter, you don’t even know my real name. You don’t even know me, as a person. You’re an MIT educated superhero. I’m wanted in 72 countries and have killed men in the triple digits. Do you really think I’d be welcomed with open arms?”

His eyes darken at the mention of your death as he clenches his fist, his gaze unnerving.

“I won’t let them harm you.”

His stubbornness is infuriating.

“That’s the thing, Parker! You don’t get to decide whether or not I get harmed.”

“Why won’t you just trust me?” his tone is low but still soft as he marches towards you and grabs your wrist. You try to pull away but can’t, the sudden strength catching you off guard.

“Because apparently, you don’t care about me enough to see that it’s a fucking death sentence if I go back with you to New York-”

Your rant is cut off with a swift kiss to your lips, you can taste the underlying tones of his half-drunken cherry wine and your peach lipgloss mixing together. His teeth tug at your bottom lip as his hand grips your waist, shoving you against the marble column overlooking the balcony. All the anger and fear that’s been running through your mind the past few hours melts away and you swear he’s putting a trance on you, and not the other way around. When he finally pulls back, his gaze is determined and his lips are swollen, his calloused hand rubbing up against your soft skin.

“You’re wrong. I care. I care so fucking much about you that I don’t want you to run anymore. Aren’t you tired, angel? Of running. Of never being able to make allies. Of always being alone, never being able to settle down?”

You’re silent as he sighs, wishing he could read your mind.

“Angel-”

“(Y/n). My name is (Y/n).”

He softens at the mention of your name.

“(Y/n)... please, come with me.”

There’s a million different things you want to say, but all you can think about is that he smells like fresh laundry and lavender, and his skin is right against yours. You want to say yes.

“I need a night to think about it.” you mutter. To your surprise (and somewhat dismay) he wholeheartedly agrees, and pleads with you to allow him to follow you back to your house to spend the night. You can’t find the way to say “no” when he’s looking at you like that, the type of gaze that has you slammed against the wall of your bedroom an hour later with his jacket and cellphone tossed hazardously in the corner of your room.

“Is this okay?” he’s asking as he’s already pinning you down onto the mattress, layers being shedded faster than he’s speaking. You nod, bringing him back down for another kiss.

“One night to think about it, yeah?” he whispers against your lips, and the guilt starts settling in. But it’s replaced by a fire when his hands start wandering lower and you nod.

“Right. One night.”

Any sort of remorse or doubt you have dissipates into thin air, lost in ecstasy.

“Peter.”

After disabling his tracker and disappearing from any communications with the team for a whole 24 hours, Peter suddenly shows up back at Stark Tower, his eyes glazed over in a sickly pink hue as he stares down at Tony. It takes Sam dousing a cold bucket of water over Peter’s head to get him to snap out of his trance, his irises returning to their original hazel colour as he stands up straight, caught off guard by the sudden cold.

“Peter, you okay? Where were you?” Steve interrogates, concerned.

“I…” he tries to tell them, but his memory is a pleasant blank. He remembers arriving to the party and having a drink, but that’s about it.

“Did she hurt you?” Bruce asks, gently examining Peter’s head for any injuries.

“Who?”

They all look at him as if he’s crazy.

“You know? The killer? The one who seduces men with her eyes, the same person we’ve been trying to catch the past three weeks?”

Peter’s confusion just doubles and this elicits a quiet argument between the group, but one that Peter can’t force himself to listen to as he feels a strange sensation in his chest. There’s an odd ache in his chest that he can’t quite place, a type of dread that’s similar to the feeling of forgetting something important, but he can’t remember why. He shifts uncomfortably in his place before licking his lips as a reflex, tasting the remnants of last night.

His lips tasted sweet. Frowning, he dabs his lips with his finger, feeling the sticky residue.

Huh.

There’s something missing but he can’t find it in his mind, no matter how hard he’s forcing himself to think back.

All he tastes is peaches.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: :( :( I KNOW I KNOW the ending isn’t happy but to me it felt like the best way to end it. Please take a few seconds to like/reblog/comment/inbox me if you enjoyed it! It’ll mean so much to me.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker one-shot #peter parker oneshot #spiderman x reader #avengers x reader #marvel reader insert #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #a repost since tumblr sucks at tags

560 notes · View notes

teacupfulofstarshine · 3 years

Text

in little ways

summary: "a single act of love makes the soul return to life." - saint maximillian kolbe (OR: soft moments in the relationship of patton, remus, and virgil, as a birthday gift for the lovely @bumblebeekitten)

a/n: HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEE!!! i give you intrumoxiety being soft little shits

CW: shedding of skin (akin to a snake), nightmare mention, bones, one (1) innuendo, nonsexual nudity

wordcount: 2.7k

ao3 link

“Babe? What - are you doing?”

Virgil, who is busy trying to plan out the best way to strategically approach a nest of wild sirens in the middle of molt to gather their discarded feathers, opens their mouth to reply, and then the low rumbling baritone of their newest lover hits their ears.

“I . . . you’ll laugh at me if I tell you.”

Virgil’s one-of-my-loves-is-on-some-self-deprecating-bullshit-and-requires-reassurance, which they take pride in having almost as fine-tuned as Patton’s, begins klaxon-blaring in their mind. They mark their page and carefully untangle themselves from the web of work they’ve been doing and head into the other room.

Patton is sitting on the kitchen table, swinging (Virgil narrows his eyes at the colored orb charm hanging around Patton’s neck) her legs back and forth, and Remus is standing in front of her, blushing. She has a small wreath of white things in her hair - are those bones? - with a bright jewel studded over her forehead. Remus is holding more small white things in his hands, claw-tipped fingers curled so delicately to avoid shattering them.

“You - I just -”

“Honey, I promise I’m not gonna laugh at you, no matter what,” Patton says. She reaches forward, assortment of rings glinting and clinking as she touches Remus’s face. He lets out a soft rumbly noise and turns his cheek to press into the touch more, gently rubbing his nose against her palm. “We all do stuff that other people think is weird. You don’t have to worry about it.”

Remus flicks his eyes up to look at Virgil, who slow-blinks at him in the clearest nonverbal communication of I love you, you massive idiot they can give. “I . . . uh . . . it’s a weird dragon thing.”

“Re, we’re not gonna be species-ist towards you, that would be super mean and also stupid, considering that no one in this house is human or cisgender,” Virgil says. Remus smiles, hesitant, and then exhales out a puff of gray-black smoke.

“It’s . . . a claiming thing. When dragons get serious about courtships, they . . . combine hoards a little? They’ll pick out choice pieces from their hoards and exchange them. So, by me putting pieces of my bone hoard on you, it’s like . . . me saying that I’m serious about this, and I want it to last.” Virgil reaches out and takes Remus’s hand, not reacting at all when their skin hisses and steams against his. The benefits of having a partner who’s half ice nymph and half selkie, they suppose.

“Don’t I get any bones?” they tease. Remus waggles his eyebrows at them; they promptly drop his hand and smack his shoulder. “Not like that, dirty dragon.”

“Yeah, it’s not fair for only one of us to get fancy bones!” Patton says. “Although I certainly do appreciate this . . . tiara? I’m gonna go ahead and say it’s a tiara.”

“It was supposed to be,” Remus says, kicking the floor. “I got Ro to help me with pickin’ out the gems and stuff. That’s part of what he hoards, so we went and looked for them together. He told me that one’s a moonstone, and I thought, y’know, werewolf, perfect, right? And - and I’m working on something for you, Virge, I just didn’t wanna find anything that screamed VEE to me on that trip, y’know?”

“Well, I absolutely love it,” Patton coos, leaning forward to kiss Remus. “Thank you for the tiara, sweetie!” She pauses. “You cleaned these, right?”

Remus laughs, deep and echoing, and something inside of Virgil uncoils.

*~*~*~*~*

Their skin itches and burns, and someone in front of them is setting their sealskin on fire, and they can hear Patton screaming high and frantic and Remus roaring deep and feral but they can’t move, they’re screaming, convulsing as they burn up with their sealskin and then then then then then -

“Virgil!”

They sit upright, ice flooding around them, and a dark shape looms in the distance and they fling their hand out to cast a massive shard of ice through the heart of their night terror, but the night terror opens its mouth and green fire rolls out like a current, licking along the ice and dissolving it into water without burning anything else. “Virgil,” the night terrors says, and why does Virgil know that voice?

“Virgil,” the voice repeats, lower, and then again, and every time it repeats their name it drops lower and lower until they aren’t so much hearing their name as they are feeling it reverberate in their heaving chest.

The night terror tips its head back and exhales a jet of flames towards the ceiling. It catches on a saucer of oil, spreading down troughs to ignite other saucers spread around the ceiling, and the night terror looks down with fire licking around its teeth and oh, that’s not a night terror at all, it’s Remus. His leathery wings are awkwardly stuck together behind him like he’d just woken up, his hands are up like he’s warding off an attack.

“R - Rem?”

BELOVED, he rumbles, mouth barely moving. Virgil sways a little under the force, blinking as Remus thumps at his chest a little with one hand. ARE YOU WELL?

“I . . . nightmare,” they manage. “Hunters. Hurt you, hurt Patty, stole my skin . . .”

Remus takes a step forward, then another. MAY I APPROACH? Virgil is pretty sure he’s actually speaking Dracon, which would explain the oddly formal address and grammar. They nod, too out of it to speak more, and Remus carefully climbs onto the ice-covered bed. He opens his arms, and they collapse into his chest, shaking.

“Patty?”

ON A NIGHT HUNT WITH HIS PACK, BELOVED. HE WILL RETURN ON THE MORN.

“Oh . . . did I hurt you?”

NO, BELOVED. HOW ELSE MAY I COMFORT YOU?

“My . . . my skin?”

Remus scoops them up into his arms, easily navigating the iced-over bedroom floor and taking them down into the basement. He exhales a plume of blue-green fire into the magical lock, and Virgil leans forward as the door spins and swirls open. The hoard room is full of perfectly-articulated skeletons, bones in cleaning vats, and the other treasures that Remus collects. He navigates through the piles skillfully until he reaches a dark wooden chest with an intricate sapphire-and-golden inlay on the top.

YOUR KEY, BELOVED?

Virgil traces a sigil across the chest, and it glows under their touch. The array lights up with a brilliant violet aura, and the chest pops open. They reach into the chest hurriedly, panic when they don’t feel fur, and then slide their fingers across to the latch that opens the false bottom. They flip open the false bottom and pull out their sealskin, pressing their face into the softness.

Their sealskin is beautiful. It’s black as pitch, studded with flecks of silver and white. Remus hugs them against his chest as they rub their cheek against the fur and inhale the scent of the sea. Remus rumbles underneath them, gently rubbing his face along their hair and neck to gently scent him.

“Thanks,” Virgil says, nearly twenty minutes later, sealskin draped around them like a blanket. “I . . . sorry I woke you.”

“It’s alright,” Remus says, voice hoarse and growly. “I don’t mind. It’s kinda hot when you go batshit, even though I wish you hadn’t had a nightmare.” Virgil snorts, shoving at his chest.

“I can’t believe you slipped into Dracon.” Remus ducks his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah . . . it . . . lots of dragon moms do it to try and soothe rowdy hatchlings back to sleep. I didn’t realize I was doing it until my larynx dropped, and once it goes that far down it takes a while to relax my muscles enough to release it back to normal.”

“I like it,” Virgil murmurs, leaning up to kiss him. “It’s . . . nice.”

Remus rumbles with pleasure and kisses them back.

*~*~*~*~*

“Patton, what are you doing?”

Patton is staring out the window, eyes narrowed, mouth set in a thin line of displeasure. Virgil pauses, arms full of books and random spell components. “I don’t trust that woman.”

“What? What woman?”

Virgil follows their gaze down to the end of the walkway leading up to their cottage, all the way to the woman at their mailbox. “Patton, what -”

“I don’t trust her,” they mutter, ears pinning back in their fluffy hair.

“Patton, she’s the mailwoman. Debra’s been coming here every day for the past seven years.”

“Suspicious.”

“It is literally the opposite of suspicious, you ridiculous werewolf.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Poor baby,” Patton croons, pulling on thick rubber gloves and tying her hair up out of the way. Remus whines, rolling around the kitchen buck-naked. His body is almost completely covered in thick, glistening scales, with few patches of human skin peeking through.

“Why are you naked?” Virgil asks.

“Shedding season,” Remus moans, swiping irritably at his torso. A thick sheet of scales flakes to the ground, and Virgil picks it up. “You can have whatever scales come off if you help me, it itches so baaaaaad!”

Virgil looks at Patton, who’s carrying a bucket of magic salts and a scrub brush towards the bathroom. “You got a spare brush and gloves, Patty?”

“Under the sink!” Virgil is quick to grab the supplies. When they return, Remus is still rolling around the kitchen floor, and Patton is prodding him with her foot.

“Babe, if you don’t get into the tub, I can’t help you feel better. Your dad sent the special salts that your family uses during sheds from the sea caves near your family home.”

“Papa sent them?” Remus’s eyes are wide and liquid, and he almost looks like a hatchling. Virgil bends down and brushes his sweaty hair off his forehead.

“Yeah, Reem. We asked him for the salts and the lotion so that you’d be more comfortable the next time you shed your scales. We know how much you hate the feeling, and we want you to be comfor - mmph!”

Remus grabs the front of their shirt and drags them down into a kiss, brief and passionate. Virgil leans back, mussed and flustered, and Patton leans down and drops a kiss into their hair. “Let’s get you into the bath, mister.”

They finally manage to get Remus into the hot bath, and the moan he lets out when Patton tips the salt into the water is positively lewd. Virgil tugs on the thick gloves and picks up their scrub brush. “I’ll take the left, you take the right?” Patton nods, picking up her rough sponge, and they get to work.

Virgil puts their back into the scrubbing, careful around Remus’s newly healed top surgery scars. They create a transport sigil next to them and pass any large sheets of scales that flake off of Remus through it, sending them to their work desk. Remus wriggles around in the hot water, making it difficult to scrub, but finally his skin is clear and red-pink from scrubbing and the heat.

Remus flops gracefully onto the bed, sighing in relief as he rolls around the soft comforter. Patton pulls off her gloves and picks up a tub of thick, pink goop. “Alright, buddy, it’s time for the lotion.”

“You guys don’t have to do all this,” Remus mumbles, sleepy from his bath. “I know it’s kinda gross.”

“We love you, Remus. It’s no trouble,” Patton says, gently stroking his hair.

“Of course it’s not,” Virgil adds. Remus lets out a low, pleased rumble, and Virgil kisses Patton softly.

*~*~*~*~*

“VIRGIL! Virgil, Virgil, Virgil Virgil VirgilVirgil VirgilVirgil VIRGIL!!!!!”

Virgil, whose name is sounding more and more like gibberish, even to their own ears, looks up from the sigil they’re constructing to see Remus bouncing eagerly in front of them. “Learn something new?”

“Yeah! Patton’s at the grocery store, can I infodump to you?”

Virgil looks down at the array they’re working on. “Give me two minutes to make sure this sigil won’t explode if I leave it alone, okay? Then you can talk all you want.” Remus nods, sitting down next to them. He’s practically vibrating with happy energy - flapping his hand, tapping his feet, snapping his fingers, rocking and humming. Virgil quickly changes a few of the components of their array, pulls their power out of it, and writes down where they were so they can pick their work up later. “Okay, Remus. Go ahead.”

Remus jumps to his feet and begins pacing around the living room, telling Virgil all about the new deadly creature he’s discovered, and Virgil watches him fondly, smiling.

*~*~*~*~*

“You know how Pat has his bone tiara?”

“Yeah?”

Remus reaches into the pouch at his waist and offers something to Virgil. “For you!” Virgil takes the token from his hands, gasping when it comes into view. It’s a necklace with a braided leather cord and a dangling pendant. The pendant is painstakingly constructed of dozens of tiny bones, all arranged and articulated to form an ornate snowflake. In the very center is a gleaming piece of icy pale blue-green topaz, carved into a hexagonal facet.

“You . . . you made this?”

“Yep! I - do you not like it?”

Virgil stares at the necklace, running their fingers over the edges of the snowflake and the ice-cold smoothness of the gem. They slip the pendant over their head with trembling fingers before dragging Remus into a kiss. “Bedroom, now.”

“As you wish,” Remus purrs, scooping them into his arms.

*~*~*~*~*

Virgil tightens their grip on the strap of their messenger bag as the gates swing open, revealing a tall, imposing figure. Half of his face is covered in glittering golden-green scales, and one eye is a golden brown with a slitted pupil; the other is dark brown, almost black. He wears a long-sleeved golden dress that falls to the floor, intricately embroidered with dragons and flames along the hem, and his wings are fanned loosely around him.

“Papa!” Remus crows, sprinting up and leaping towards the figure. He catches him, managing to make it look elegant as he hugs Remus close and rubs his back with a small smile. Remus and his father press their foreheads together, rumbling softly, before Remus hops down. “Virgey, Patton, this is my papa! Papa, these are my loves!”

Virgil flushes, seeing Patton go pale pink beside them, as Remus’s father comes forward and extends a hand. “You may call me Janus. It is a pleasure to formally meet you. My son speaks quite highly of you.”

Virgil shakes his hand. “The pleasure is all ours, sir. Thank you for letting us use the private beach on your estate.” Janus smiles as he shakes Patton’s hand.

“Anyone so highly beloved of my son is always welcome on our family’s ancestral home.” His eyes linger on the bone tiara and pendant before turning to Remus and asking him a low, rapidfire question in a tongue Virgil doesn’t speak. Remus turns redder than Virgil’s ever seen him and spits back a swift response, and Janus laughs.

“The path to the beach is that way. When you are done, I will have a meal prepared in the house. Take your time. The weather will be favorable today.”

Remus grabs their hands and drags them down towards the sea. “What did your dad say to you?”

“He’s just being embarrassing,” Remus mutters.

“Must have been serious if it embarrassed you,” Patton teases.

“Shut up!”

They crest the cliff and spot the sea, and all of Virgil’s teasing leaves them in one breath. It’s beautiful, and the longer they stare at it and smell the salt water, the stronger the call of the ocean in their bones.

Remus goes flying down the stairs, dropping his bag in the sand and shedding all of his clothes to reveal a lime green speedo. Patton takes a little more care, spreading out the towels and setting up the umbrella, before carefully taking off their tiara and clothes and transforming into a wolf with a fluid, rippling motion. They leap into the water as Virgil descends to the beach. They set down their bag, strip down, and carefully tuck their pendant in a pocket of their bag before reaching in and pulling out their sealskin. They take a moment to watch the way the sun glitters on the ocean’s surface, listening to the crash of the waves and the call of the gulls and the shrieking laughter of Remus and Patton’s joyful barks.

Then, they wrap their sealskin around their shoulders and join their loves in the sea.

#starshinewrites #ts remus #intrumoxiety #wife squad tag!#bee tag!#ts virgil #ts patton

94 notes · View notes

stillebesat · 4 years

Text

Wanted

Sanders Sides: Remus, Roman, Logan, Janus Blurb: Remus knew one thing for sure. No one would ever want to Want him. Inspiration: from This Post by @recipe-for-thomathy Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort, Medieval!AU Warnings: Fire (mention), Throwing things, Breaking things, Captivity/Slavery, Weapons Taglist in reblog.

The door slammed open with far more force than even Remus was willing to use on it. Mostly because he knew from past experience how difficult it was to rehang that door after striping out the screws in the wood and snapping the hinges more than once.

“What did you do?!” Roman demanded, striding into his work space in his full regalia of King’s Guard.

Huh. Come straight from the palace? That was different. Remus smirked, keeping his attention on the furnace in front of him, slowly spinning the rod and its molten glass load within to keep it from dripping. “Do?” He shifted his feet to get a better angle, the iron chain around his ankle that kept him from wandering away from the shop clinking softly as he moved. “Plenty I suppose.”

It was him they were talking about, but to his credit he’d actually been pretty productive today instead of destructive. “Made six vases just this morn--”

Roman took out a scroll, letting it fall open. “You’re on a WANTED poster!”

His heart skipped a beat at that, though thankfully, Remus didn’t drop the rod. He actually liked the neon green glow the glass was giving off this time. Maybe he could use it to create something far more interesting than a boring stagnant flower holder. Maybe he could make another pair of---no. It would be best to stay with creating the same old same old for a few more days at least. No need to draw any attention to himself.

Remus drew in a shaky breath he hoped his twin didn’t notice as he glanced to the poster held in his brother’s hands.

It would be best to not think about what he’d done last night.

A once in a lifetime opportunity.

A breath of freedom.

A dream come true.

His one and only Cinderella moment where it had felt so right to do what he did.

Like he’d finally found his calling in life.

And if Remus had any dignity or common sense left he’d stomp down on that siren call and wouldn’t seek to draw any further attention or be anything more than a boring humble glassblower’s apprentice from here on out or he was sure his heart would actually shatter if he ever saw that particular smile again. That particular spark in the eye. That-.

Remus pasted a smirk on his face, forcing the memory away.

A dream should remain a dream.

He raised an eyebrow at the figure on the paper as he pulled the rod out of the furnace. “Ehhhh. That’s not me.” He said, moving to the bench so that he could grab a block to continue shaping the glass.

If it weren’t for the moustache -drawn a little larger than the little bit of hair he currently had on his upper lip thanks to a small accident with fire earlier in the week, Remus would have thought it was a portrait of Roman since the figure’s hair lacked the tell tale silver streak that marked him as an evil twin.

No. Roman was the one with the muscles. The one with the handsome smile. With the knighthood. With his star rising insomuch that even foreign dignitaries were falling over themselves to stay in his good graces.

Remus...was just…himself. Stringy hair, crooked smile, multiple scars criss-crossing his entire body from previous beatings and accidents in the forge. Who only had enough strength in his limbs to work glass instead of far more durable, sturdy, and useful materials like wood or iron.

After all, Glasswork was quite the useless skill when they were in the middle of a war with the neighboring country and needed blacksmiths to create more weapons rather than glassblowers to make pretty cups for parties.

No. Remus let out a slow breath, placing the block back as he returned to the furnace to ensure his current project didn’t harden before he was finished.

There was a reason why the silver streak had marked him instead of his twin as the evil one. The bad guy. The one who could do no good despite the very obvious proof that Remus could accomplish some good or else no one would be buying the glass objects he created.

No one seemed to mind that he’d been marked as evil so long as he didn’t go too crazy in front of the patrons when they came to get their stupid little paperweights, flower vases, dinnerware, and sun orbs.

Of course the cursed chain around his foot did a lot to assuage any of their fears of him running rampant.

If only they knew just what he had done last night. Just where he’d gone. How he’d freed himself from the stupid chain for a few hours to bring--to bring---a gift….to---

“Not--” Roman took a step forward, armor clanking. “It looks JUST LIKE YOU!”

“Looks just like you too, or did your big fat egotistical head forget we’re identical?” Remus shot back.

Mostly identical. Even if he didn’t have the moustache, Remus was certain people wouldn’t ever mistake them for each other. As kids...probably, but he’d never know for sure since his--their mother chose to leave him out in the woods to die and be found by slavers instead of doing the sensible thing and dropping him off at the orphanage with all the other rejected evil halfs.

Roman had only been a thorn in his life for the past six months or so after stumbling into the shop while breaking up a brawl that had started at the pub up the street. That was hardly enough time for them to even begin to get to know each other, let alone their quirks.

Even then, with their on and off brief interactions, Remus knew that Roman only kept coming to see him more out of a morbid fascination of how his life could have been different if he’d been the one born with the silver in his hair rather than wanting to form a genuine familial connection with his long lost twin.

Roman scoffed, resting a hand on his sword. “You know it can’t be of me! I know better than to risk interrupting the peace talks going on at the palace!”

Remus rolled his eyes, returning to the bench. Peace talks. A freaking ball was now considered a part of those never ending peace talks? They might as well parade the visiting Prince and his entourage around the streets again every day for a month instead for all the good those peace talks were doing.

At least the foreign Prince was someone different to look at when he did come through town.

And…despite the rather accurate portrayal...Remus couldn’t see why a Wanted poster would be created for him. It wasn’t like he’d hurt anyone. It wasn’t like anyone knew who he was. Not when he’d come in disguise! He hadn’t even talked to anyone beyond---and that was only to explain his--the...gift.

Unless showing someone how they could see far more clearly was now a crime. No. Remus had had his moment to shine and then he’d returned to the forge like a good obedient mutt to his hovel and destroyed the evidence--most of the evidence--without anyone being the wiser.

“Remus. I know--”

“No you don’t!” He snapped. “For all you know, maybe we have a third twin brother running around because why would you think it would be me on that Wanted poster, Oh Highly Favored of the King, when I obviously can’t go anywhere?” Remus purposely kicked his foot so the chain trapping him in this place rattled, the sound echoing through the air as he picked up his second favorite tweezers in a shaking hand.

Not that he intended to use it. No. Not now.

Wanted.

His brother had managed to...emotionally compromise him and that wasn’t good for working with glass. No it was only for destroying it. A pity. He truly had liked the color on this one.

Remus kept his head down, acting like he was still working as he rolled the pipe back and forth to keep the shape intact. “When, unlike a certain free born goody-two-shoes, I’ve never been wanted in my entire life?”

The Master Glassblower didn’t even want him. Remus had only ever been considered a tool to be used until it wore out. A slave brought in to be worked to death and only taught glass blowing because the greedy old miser wanted more product on his shelves and had to admit as he aged that he couldn’t keep up with demand nor stay near the heat of the forge for as long anymore.

Lucky him, Remus had actually shown a talent for the craft. He could only imagine the sloppy blobs that would be on the shelves now if the Glassblower had bought any of the other slaves on the auction block.

So long as it meant more gold in his coffers the Master hardly cared whose work was selling. And when the war happened, he’d allowed Remus to keep the shop open while he was off aiding the war effort in the forges nearer the front lines.

And with him left in charge of the shop...it meant that Remus had finally been able to create what he wanted to create. To experiment. No one was there to stop him. To tell him what to do. To care.

“What do you mean you’re not wanted?” Roman took a step forward rolling up the poster. “I--”

Remus snarled, hurling the molten glass like a spear in his twin’s direction, watching as the glass on the pole shattered upon impact with the wall, before focusing on the way Roman had stilled, hand flashing to his sword, eyes wide.

Give him a break. He knew better than to throw something directly at his twin, not if he didn’t want to die on the spot for attacking the King’s own personal guard.

He turned away, tossing the tweezers onto the bench. “If YOU wanted anything to do with me brother you wouldn’t have left me chained here when you first found me!” He clenched his hands as he crossed his arms, resisting the urge to continue destroying things. “You wouldn’t keep coming back to stare at me like I’m a freaking circus act while you pretend you want to get to know me. You. Don’t. You Never Did. So DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME THAT I’M WANTED.”

No one had truly wanted to see him. Not even with that particular unbelievable encounter last night. It didn’t mean a thing and would never happen again. A shooting star only ever shown for a blink of an eye before going out.

“Remus.”

Roman had no right to sound so--soo pitying!! If he’d wanted to change things he could have. But he hadn’t.

“No need to rub it in Mr. Perfect. I know I’m not wanted. How could I ever forget when Evil Twin has been my label my entire life?! So take your stupid Wanted poster and Get. OUT.”

Get out before he lost the remaining shreds of his self control and actually hurt him.

The door behind him creaked as it slowly opened.

“Remus, please. You have to know that wasn’t--”

So Roman did want to see the forge destroyed today. Fine. FINE. He snatched up another rod with a snarl and whirled only to drop to his knees, rod clattering to the ground as he pressed his face into the dirt, heart pounding harder than a hammer to an anvil in his chest upon seeing just who was standing behind his brother.

In retrospect the uniform should have clued him in that his twin hadn’t come for a social visit. Or alone.

“Ah.” Roman cleared his throat. “My High King Janus. Visiting Prince Logan.” He said formally. “May I present to you...my twin brother, Remus, apprentice glassblower to Apollos, a Master Glassblower who has gone to the front lines to assist the other Smiths there.”

Remus closed his eyes, pressing his lips tightly together. He was so screwed. No wonder the portrait in the poster had been so accurate despite his disguise. The High King could see deceptions around him as easily as a bird could fly. Of course he’d see an evil twin in disguise and keep an eye on him. Especially after what he’d done--but Remus had been sure he’d escaped notice right after---after----

And to have the Prince--Prince Logan...right here...in his shop---he hadn’t expected to ever see those glorious green eyes again, let alone see the Prince still wearing the glasses that Remus had created and gone to the palace to give him last night.

“So.”

Remus flinched as footsteps approached him, the silky voice of the High King ringing in his ears.

“This is our little forge rat who disrupted the ball last night?”

Disrupted?! Remus fought back the protest rising in his throat, fingers digging into the dirt. Sure he’d stolen the Prince away for a moment to ensure the glasses properly fit. That the Prince could see through them. But he hadn’t disr--He’d been very careful to be good! Even created a fashionable enough garment with colored glass in order to blend in with all the nobles decked out in gemstones so large and heavy it was a wonder the richies could move at all.

He jumped as warm fingers trailed down his cheek.

“I would hardly say he was disruptive.” Prince Logan remarked as he lifted up his chin, the corner of his mouth twitching when he met Remus’s eyes, his own no longer narrowed in a squint but wide open with wonder as he traced the lines of his jaw. “Nor would I say that you’re not wanted either, Remus.”

Remus gulped, heart pounding even harder in his chest. It wasn’t fair how his name on the Prince’s lips made fuzzy embers spark in his chest.

Logan gently tilted his head back, his thumb running along Remus’s moustache. “There was a reason why I stayed up all night with the royal painter to ensure that your portrait was accurate. And that was so I could find you as soon as possible. But I see,” His green eyes sparked with delight, his other hand raising to adjust the thin wire frames sitting on his nose. “That I was not quite as accurate as I wanted to be, but I suppose that can be forgiven considering my distraction at how clear the world has now become for me thanks to you.”

“You are certain.” High King Janus asked, hands hidden in his gold silk robes, head tilting to study Remus like a hawk studies a mouse as Roman came to stand beside him. “That he is the one you seek, Prince Logan? That he is the one who gave you...sight?”

“He is.” The Prince confirmed without hesitation.

The High King raised an eyebrow. “I find it hard to...believe that one born with silver in their hair could be--”

“Remus is the best glassblower I’ve ever encountered, my King.” Roman said, raising his chin as the High King turned to him, unafraid to look him in the eye. “If anyone were to create the ability to see from blown glass, it would be him.”

More fuzzy embers fizzled around Remus’s stomach as he side eyed his brother. Roman...actually thought he was good? At glassblowing? He’d never said anything before--

High King Janus hummed, waiting until Roman broke eye contact before again returning his eagle stare on Remus, golden eyes glinting in the light of the forge. “Considering your own skills, Sir Roman, I would be unsurprised that your other half would be just as creative in his own right. Even more so if he is to be the bridge that finally brings peace to our kingdoms.”

Remus blinked, fidgeting in place, his fingers digging into the dirt so he wouldn’t try and touch the Prince because he liked his hands too much to lose them. “Bridge?” He asked before he could also tell his tongue that talking was a very good way to get it removed with a hot poker. “What bridge? I can’t--” Surely they didn’t expect him to build a bridge from glass! How would that even work to bring peace? The thing would shatter with one wrong strike of a horse’s hooves!

Logan smiled. “You can, Remus.” He said before gesturing for Roman to come forward. “Free him.” He commanded.

Surprisingly, his twin didn’t hesitate, quickly moving forward with his sword drawn as he focused on the chain around Remus’s ankle.

It really wasn’t fair to hear his name spoken like that! Like he--like the Prince actually cared about him.

Remus fought to hold still, to not look away from Prince Logan’s forest filled eyes to see what his twin was doing with the lock and if it was the same method he himself had used last night to free himself.

“I want you to come with me.” Prince Logan said softly, stroking Remus’s cheek as he maintained eye contact. “To my kingdom. Let me show you how much we want you there. Need you. Your gift with glass, there are so many of us, so many who would fall to your feet to see as you’ve shown me to see. Come with me, Remus.” He dropped his hands again to Remus’s dirty ones, squeezing them gently. “And I will guarantee that you will not regret it.”

Remus made a noise of disbelief, frozen in place, unable to comprehend that these...that the Prince---No one wanted to be around an evil twin!

And yet.

Prince Logan had yet to draw away or show disgust or revulsion upon discovering that he was the evil half.

“If you go with him, the war will stop.” High King Janus intoned. “Both sides will withdraw. Peace will finally be reestablished in both lands.”

The war would stop? Over him? It didn’t--

Remus drew in a shaky breath as the chain around his ankle that had been his constant companion the last four years fell away with a soft clank for the second time in the past twenty-four hours as Roman took a step back with a faint smile his eyes shimmering with--was his twin actually about to cry? Over him?!

“But you--you don’t even know me.” Remus whispered as the Prince pulled him to his feet, guiding him outside to the waiting royal carriage. To--to dare he say it? To freedom if he so chose to take it.

“No.” Prince Logan agreed, giving him another smile as he once more adjusted his glasses, the lens flashing in the sunlight. “But I want to.”

461 notes · View notes

herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

Meet Me In The Church

Kinktober day 18: Threesome

Suptober day 25: Villain

A/N: I know I'm a couple days late in kinktober, but I'll get there. A Very Supernatural Halloween is here! We are starting with @deanmonandnegansbitch 's request!

Pairings: Michael!Dean x reader, Anael x reader, Michael!Dean x reader x Anael

Warnings: fingering, playing with boobs, violence

“So this is your plan? Just go around destroying things until God shows up?” A strident voice reverberated through the abraded church's walls, causing flinch of yours in response. This place was abandoned, and the maps that Alice, your friend, picked up online didn't mention anything about a room underground. Obviously, that only made you follow the stairs towards the noise. “And then what?”

The response came through a velvet voice, “Even God can die.”

You kept walking, the distinguishing sounds of your friends' laughters being replaced by a louder tone of the two unknown people behind the black door in the end of the stairs. You could see a big crucifix, some word craved in it — an old pray, probably.

You should turn around and call your friends. Maybe even the police. Those people were hiding in a secret room. Not that you and your group were right to break in the old church, but it was for fun and not to plan a murder of God. In the bare minimum, the pair was high, drunk, and wasted.

Yet, you kept walking to the black door. Your legs trembling as if some lasting animal instinct in your body knew that wasn't a good idea. But you wanted to know what was happening, give names to the faces and get a story out of them. Where they actually talking about God or were they using nicknames as a gang? Why they wanted to kill God? What happened to get them to the point of arguing about their plan in a church in the middle of Mexico?

You followed their voices like a sailor would follow a siren cry. You just begged to any holy divinity left in the forgotten church not to let you have the same destiny of the sea men.

You were close enough to hear the loud huff, the woman's next words tangled with incredulity. She laughed like she wasn't able to discern if he was kidding or not. “I thought Lucifer was reckless, but you're literally throwing tantrums to get God's attention and then try kill him.”

“Do not compare me to Lucifer.” He almost howled. Your fingers touched the door, pulling it carefully; you knew those sort of building had many noises. You breached, taling a glance inside the place. The room looked old and dusty, except for the two standing there. A woman and a man, just like you pictured from the voices. You were amazed by their apparency. Tall, beautiful, and dominant. You didn't know why, their postures simply exhaled power. “Pay me some respect. Remember that you didn't pick me, I picked you.” An echo of something being thrown against the wall could be heard next, her body was slammed as she was held by her neck. The mam with a hat didn't seem to care. If anything, the cocky grin on his lips reported his clear amusement. The girl put grabbed his arms, gasping a bit. You couldn't just allow that. “I can easily get another angel to do your job if I find you useless like my brother did. His only mistake was to let you live. Lucifer, always such a sentimental.”

Your dry tongue was capable of pushing a word out of your mouth. It was supposed to come out as a warning when you spread the door open, but the quiet unsteady tone beatrayed you. “Hey!”

Both of them turned to stare at the intruder. He threw her body away with ease, green eyes fixated on you. “It seems like we have a guest.”

“You can't just do that to a woman, you abusive asshole.” You said through your teeth, walking to her and getting on your knees. “Are you okay?”

He rolled his eyes at your worry, but the girl seemed to appreciate it: her glossy eyes by the lack of oxygen were wide as they watched you, mouth slightly open in surprise. Anael wasn't used to kindness of any being towards her. In heaven, she was just another angel. On earth, she was sister Jo, humans were nice to her because they wanted to be cured, and the angels were disgusted by how quickly she manipulated her nature to play among the weaker kind.

But not you... You got yourself in the middle of a argument to assist her. Someone you didn't even know!

Anael couldn't help but welcome the weird sensation through her vessel. She felt shy, but st the same time warm. Was this what being cared about felt like?

“She isn't a human, little one. She's just a weak angel trying to make some sense out of her existence by bring closer to a higher being.” Michael's utterly calm tone brought her back to reality. He scoffed, looking up and down at the both of you. “You're right. That sounds a lot like a human.”

“You are crazy.” You hissed, grabbing the other's arm to help her getting up. Your skins tickled each other together. Your eyes were amiable when observating. “You can come with me. My friends are downstairs, we can take you to the police station.”

“You'd be getting ride of a problem for me.” Despite the disinterest, Michael arched an single eyebrow. You weren't the only curious in the church. He wanted to know more. “But fulfill my curiosity: What are you doing here? Why would you help someone you don't even know?”

“We're leaving.” You said, pulling Anael to go with you. Although she was on her feet, she didn't make a move to walk away with you. “We can keep you good. You don't have to stay here with that crazy.”

She didn't want you to die, the first being that showed her kindness somehow, but she knew better than mess with Michael's ego. Anael had teamed up with Lucifer to keep herself safe. She was a survivor. She could adapt anywhere, in any situation. The angel had to do that here too.

“He isn't crazy. We are angels.” She said, eyes glowing white. You pulled away from her hold with a shocked expression, her human skin almost hurt in response.

“Anael is an angel. I'm Michael, the archangel.” He corrected her, smiling proudly at his title. Michael took steps closer to you. “You didn't answer me.”

His green orbs turned bright blue as he glanced at you. One of his tough hands raising to meet your cheek in a singele touch that didn't seem fitting him, at all. That man looked like danger, still you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his touch. The magnetic pull of something graceful trapped with his gorgeous being.

“I helped her because I thought she needed help.” You answered. “And I came here with a group of friends. We heard about the abandoned church and just came around.”

Michael nodded, a smuh smile on his plump lips.

“Wrong time, wrong place.”

His hand swiftly went to your neck, trace of goshbumps left behind. Anael knew what was coming next; she could take a couple hints, but you were just a fragile human.

“We could use her!” angel attempted to intervene, hoping Michael wouldn't notice the despair in hee voice. Anael wanted more of the emotions you brought out hee vessel, she wanted to be cared for.

“And have another burden to carry?” Michael huffed, his fingers wrapped around your neck as you watched they speaking. God, how did you allow this to happen? “Anael, I keep you around only to have an eye close to the other angels. Why would a human be useful to me?”

“You think to much.” Anael said, her malicious grin exhibiting a confidence she didn't have. “She could be useful for another things.” Her scooted closer to you two, pressing hee body to your side and biting your ear. You pressed your legs together, trying to contain your arousal. But, how could you? He was marvelous and was holding your neck, and she was pressing her against you as if she wanted to make one out of you two.

“Carnal desires.” Michael stated, considering how your body reacted. Interesting but not peculiar, despite Dean's clear positive noise about it. “I'm not my vessel. I do not require sexual activities all the time.”

Anael managed to pull you to her, while Michael pulled away. “You work so hard to make a better world, Michael. You deserve a break.”

You glared at her breathlessly. All your emotions, all your body were a mess for both the victim and the villain; Anael and Michael. You wanted both.

Anael's lips were tingling as she leaned in, ultimately pressing them against yours. It was sloppy, hurried, and a mess. Obviously her first kiss. But that didn't stop her from grabbing your neck and pushing you against the wall.

She wanted more. Anael invaded your mouth with her tongue, whimpered to your taste. You didn't know how to reach at first, but soon your hands were on her hips. Her chest pressed against yours made you whimper, you could feel every inch of her body.

Michael licked his lips as he watched the scene. Dean's mind has a whole section dedicated to such acts, especially videos including more than one woman. The archangel hadn't seen the appeal until you. You and Anael, two puny creatures, were attacking each other only to make him keep you alive.

Anael pulled away from you, the slick in her panties demonstrating exactly what her vessel wanted, what she wanted. You were not far from that, so you didn't protest when she ripped your shirt off. Good day not to wear a bra.

She let out a whimper, eyes full of adoration when she looked at your boobs. Anael just followed what her body wanted to to, guided by her vessel's memories,— in some of them, the woman that once had control on this body was moaning, squirming even for someone called Yas. She'd moan and whine as her partner played with her breasts. — moving foward, her mouth around your nipple as she sucked it.

You shameful loud scream left your body as your pulled her closer to your chest. You eyes were on Michael, how he watched you both like a predator studying his prey. If Anael was so eager, so rough biting and pulling your boob, you couldn't wait to see how Michael would be.

“Michael—” You whined, the fear of his reaction only soaking your panties more. “Please. I need you too.”

Usually, it was easy to descry his emotion's and Dean's. Dean was often a loyal dog, surrounded by selfless feelings and necessity. Now, though, Michael couldn't tell if it was his vessel or himself that let out a hungry groan at your words. All he knew was that he approached to contemplate the way your expression contoured in pleasure.

Your aura was delivered into delight, beautiful noises that reminded him a lot of his enemies falling left your mouth. Your legs pressed together in a silly try for friction catching his attention. Michael slid his hand inside your panties, fingers in a clandestine meeting with your wetness. It was a pleasant situation for him.

The archangel, just like the angel that had went to taste your other boob, craved for what you could give him. It was almost worship, you offering your body as the ancients did before. Michael put a finger inside you, enamored by how you moaned and moved, how your wetness squeezed his digit so good. He couldn't wait to get his hardening cock there.

But first, he needed to do something else. You seemed worthwhile, but he wasn't one for blind faith anymore. Michael pulled his finger to his mouth, licking it.

You tasted divine.

“No carnal desires? Guess your vessel doesn't agree with you.” Anael pulled away from you to provoke Michael, nodding at the hardness in his pants. You winced in protest.

Michael's answer came as a groan: “Shut up or I won't let you touch her anymore.”

You just wanted them to touch you now, after, and forever. You needed them. You were made to be given to them, you knew it in your bones. And then, they did. And you couldn't ever believe you had actually found a purpose.

Leave a comment and REBLOG. Feedback is magic! Tags on my reblog; send me an ask or dm if you wish to be tagged.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x you #kinktober #suptober #suptober day 25 #michael!dean #michael!dean x reader #michael!dean x you #anael #anael x reader #michael!dean x reader x anael #supernatural #SPN #dean winchester imagines

114 notes · View notes

lofitojii · 4 years

Text

Admiration VI

Summary: He’s the son of Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty. He was everything as described, handsome, cunning, admirable. You, the daughter of Poseidon, god of waters, knows that it’s against the rules to fall for such a man. Demigods aren’t allowed to be romantically involved with one another. But it’s hard to stay away.

Warning: [M] Swearing.

Word Count: 2.5k

Admiration Masterlist

“Utah?” Chanyeol asked, looking over you shoulder from the back seat. You nodded you head, glancing from the map to the open road in front of you. The clouds thundered, the rain hitting the ground ever so gently. “What’s in Utah?”

“Jongdae,” You replied. “He said that we’ll meet him and a friend in the mountains of Salt Lake Valley.” We all knew this was risky, especially when it came to Jongdae. Jongin swears that he is trustworthy but when someone has a bad rap, you can’t help but be on your toes.

“Can we even trust that guy?” Chanyeol asked as if he was reading my mind. He lifted his arms, resting his head back as he leaned into his seat. “I’m almost sure his father has ratted out many and has quite literally thrown people under the bus.”

“He’s a good guy,” Jongin replied. “I’ve known him for a while and he’s helped me with a lot.” Jongin seemed timid, uneasy if you may, as if the questions we were asking were making him nervous.

“Okay, but who’s to say he’s not working with the council? He also could’ve told his father who probably cares more about the bounty on our heads-”

“He owes me one,” Jongin cut Chanyeol off. He let out a deep sigh, rubbing his thighs up and down as he tried to form his thoughts. “A while back, before I was to set off for Olympia,” he started, fidgeting more than before. “We had run into each other at a store. He was being followed by these big men in black suits, US secret force, or something along those lines. I guess Jongdae had stolen something and was being hunted so I helped him escape through a secret portal doors my mother and Poseidon had set up for easy traveling among worlds. He told me that if I kept the item safe, he would help me out whenever I needed it.”

“What was the item?” you asked, curiosity getting the best of you. It must’ve been something belonging to the Gods for it was forbidden for Gods to commit crimes among the humans. He must’ve been hired by Zeus.

“Not sure,” he replied, leaning back in his seat. “Jongdae had it charmed so it can’t be opened by anyone else other than those who were involved in the making of the charm. Either way, if he turns us in, he knows the charm is rooted from a promise he made me and it break whatever the item is.” Jongin wasn’t known for telling little white lies so when he explained the situation, you couldn’t help but believe him. Not to mention a Gods or Goddess’ charm are eternal and pure. Jongdae and Jongin would be risking their godly life if a promise like that was broken. He wasn’t lying.

You were all on edge, the air within the car growing tense as Baekhyun approached the Utah state line. His hands gripped the steering wheel with great force, his knuckles turning white. “When we get there, we have to ditch this car.” He hadn’t said anything all morning.

He looked so frazzled, his hair messier than you had ever seen. He was wearing a gray hoodie, black jeans. It was unlike Baekhyun to be so uncoordinated. You slowly reached out your hand, placing it on his thigh, giving it a small squeeze. He glanced over at you, taking the hand you had placed and bringing it to his lips. You had spent many nights with Baekhyun, from passionate love to calm nights with sweet words. He’s more of a suffer in silence type, which you had caught on many years before. You knew he had a lot to say, but we would never say it. Not in front of your friends, at least.

As Baekhyun began to wind up the scenic route of the mountain, you could tell his heart rate was rising as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on the curve in front of you. Your own heart began to race as Baekhyun frantically started his sentence. “When we hit this turn, we jump out the passenger side. I’ll slow down enough so we don’t get injured.”

“Woah woah! Jump out?” Chanyeol panicked. We didn’t even have enough time to brace ourselves before Baekhyun pulled on the stirring wheel, our bodies thrashing to the side.

“NOW!” Baekhyun yelled, reaching over my body and swinging the door open. He was quick to wrap his arm around my waist, launching both of us out of the car. He was so graceful with every move, every stride. He calmly landed on his knee and left foot, gently placing me down next to him. “See? Not a single scratch.”

“Yeah,” Jongin groaned, pushing Chanyeol off of his body. “For you.” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as the two boys began to bicker about how it was the other persons fault for not being more coordinated.

“Damn it,” Chanyeol wined. “I didn’t even get to finish my coffee.” You rolled your eyes as he sulked behind you, following up a small trail not far from where Baekhyun had dumped the car. Just as you were about to make a comment, you tensed at the sound of crunching leaves behind you. You stopped dead in your tracks, trying to focus on where the rustling was coming from. “Do you hear tha-”

“Shh,” you were quick to cut him off. You continued to listen, your mind racing with ideas of how to take care of the situation. Your mind raced with images on who it could be.

The council. US Secret Service. A demonic creature.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your mind beginning to clear as you tried to relax and observe your opportunities. Your father had taught you many strategic moves, from stealth to quick attacks from behind. And just like that, you heard the steps grow closer, louder. You didn’t need to turn around to make your move. You grabbed the reached out arm, swinging the body over your shoulder, locking him in an armbar.

“What the hell, Sehun?” You scolded, tightening your grip so he knew you were upset with him.

“I’m.. Sorry.. I heard.. The crash.. I was.. Damnit Y/n let go!” You released your grip, getting back up on your feet. You brushed the loose dirt off your leggings, an arm reached out for Sehun who reluctantly took it. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Yeah you did,” you responded, glare intense.

“Yeah, I did.” You couldn’t help but let a small smile creep across your face as Sehun smirked at your comment. “And I should’ve known you wouldn’t let me get away with it.”

Sehun joined your group, trecking with you up the small trail. He led the group to a rather large cabin that was actually in the middle of the woods. It was miles, if not hours from nearest convenience store. It was isolated, just as suspected.

“Welcome,” Jongdae greeted the group. He stepped aside, leading you into the grand living room. It was beautiful, to say the least. The decor ranging from old renaissance paintings, vases, emerald green trim around the furniture, brick walls form a fireplace in the center of the home. Jongdae led the way towards the kitchen, a map already laid out on the middle table. “I found this map in the basement of one of my dad’s hideouts. It’s a full map that shows you where you can find other gods, goddesses, sirens, centars, you name it. It’s how he would know whether or not to avoid a certain area or if he was safe to pass through. And check this out. Y/n, hold your necklace orb above the map.”

You took the necklace from your neck, letting it dangle like a pendulum above the paper. Suddenly, the map disappeared with the image of Earth and appeared a map of Olympia. The necklace orb lit up with a blue aura as if it was releasing some sort of steam. You looked down at the map, a small blue dot mirroring the color of your orb. “That’s your father,” Jongdae smirked.

“No way!” Chanyeol exclaimed, taking his own orb from around his neck. He mirrored your movement, focusing on the orb in hand. It lit up with light pink aura, changing the map once more. This time, it took us to the moon. “Of course she would stay out of this.”

“This way, you can tell how close the troupe is. Baekhyun and Jongin will most likely be able to see troupes whereas Y/n and Chanyeol are able to see their parent.” Jongdae wrapped up the map and handed it to Baekhyun.

“Why is that?” Baekhyun asked, confusion visible across his face.

“Your mother, as well as Jongin’s, have created army type troupes with their power. Your orb can trace those powers no matter who it’s passed to. Also, this is the only map of it’s kind. My father became obsessed and had to hide it from himself.” A map that can tell you where gods and goddesses are. Or at least their power. “I have marked your first location on that map. As soon as you leave here, the map becomes yours and I am unable to take it back. You have to keep this promise. Baekhyun,” Jongdae reached his hand out, his necklace dangling from his middle finger. Baekhyun followed his same motion, his orb shining a deep hot pink, Jongdae’s being white. “Promise you won’t give up. Promise your love is real for Y/n and that you will protect your friends. If broken, your rings will dissolve and the map will disappear and return to me. Keep your promise, you will be safe and your journey for Hera will be met with success.”

“I promise,” Baekhyun answered as soon as Jongdae ended his speech. You could see Baekhyun’s eyes glowing the same color as his necklace, mesmerizing, to say the least. Jongdae smirked, putting his necklace in his pocket.

“True honesty,” Jongdae shook his head. “So pure yet so rare.”

They say those with intense power who hold true honesty within their hearts are to unlock their full potential when asked to keep a promise. Their eyes glow the color of their aura, unleashing an inhumane strength. The only descendants you had heard to contain this power was those of Aphrodite and Hera herself. Honesty and loyalty were very big within the community. You had just witnessed true honesty for the first time in the flesh.

And it was Baekhyun promising his love was real for you.

Baekhyun looked over at you, his eyes still burning the bright pink. “Incredible.” You turned to see Sehun shaking his head in disbelief. “They say that those who descend from Aphrodite contain an incredible power that is only shown when they’re honest.” Your heart raced at Sehun’s words. “And when they’re truly in love.”

“I plan on marrying you,” Baekhyun had yet to take his eyes off you. You grew flustered at his words, feeling your whole body shiver as he inched closer to you. “After we find Hera and the ban is lifted, I want to make you my life partner as soon as I can. That is a promise.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, the other pressing your head in his chest. You knew he was being honest based on how brightly his eyes were still glowing. The warm embrace of his hug made you feel incredibly safe, finding so much comfort within him.

You knew the more time you let slip by was more time for the council to catch up to you. You felt the anxiety bubble at the thought, your mind racing.

“Jongdae,” Jongin spoke barley above a whisper. You could see the nerves engulfing his body as he fidgeted to form his sentence. “Can I ask about-”

“Your first stop,” Jongdae winked. “You’ll see her then.” Plum. You remember the conversation you and Jongin had before you had set off on your journey together. Was she going to remember him? Does she look the same as before? You knew the consequences yet you were more scared than Jongin seemed to be. “Alright. This door here will take you to the base of Mount Fugi in Japan and from there it’s about 30 miles into the woods. Use your map if you get lost but I’m sure Kyungsoo or Plum will find you before you make it within a 10 mile radius.”

You all followed Jongdae out the door, being met in a huge basin of a beautiful mountain. It was raining, the clouds cast a dark overcast. It was a breathtaking view. “Oh and before I forget,” Jongdae started. “Kyungsoo and Plum were told to battle anyone who tries to pass, bound by a promise they had made to the Nature Goddess, Gaia who is also their mother. I told them about you guys and your journey but that by no means they will make you an exception. Knock one out or capture them both in order to pass. They will give you what information you need if you succeed in beating them.”

“That doesn’t seem too complicated,” Chanyeol replied. He gripped both mine and Jongin’s shoulder, giving us both a sturdy shake. “We’ve got two badass fighters on our team.” You looked over at Jongin, his face pale.

“Jongin?” You asked, trying to read his expression.

“I wouldn’t be too confident there,” Jongdae laughed. “This is their terrain after all.” And with that, Jongdae retreated back in through the door, leaving the four of you alone in the middle of the grass field.

“What does that even mean?” Chanyeol asked, scratching his head in pure confusion.

“It means you could possibly die if you let your guard down.” You turned around, being met with an unfamiliar face. He was short, shorter than you at least. His black hair falling ever so lightly in front of his eyes. He wore what looked to be a samurai outfit, but only the cloth material. “You must be who Jongdae was talking about. It would be smart to use your orbs against me.”

Jongin and Baekhyun were quick to materialize weapons from their orbs, taking a stance in front of Chanyeol and myself. “He’s being serious,” Jongin pointed out. The look in the unfamiliar mans eyes was soul pericing. You knew his action were based on his eternal promise. He was confident, as he should be. This is what he’s trained his whole life for.

But you had also trained for this.

With this being his own area, you knew his strength could be stronger than if it was on an even battlefield. You had to think quickly and rationally in order to not hurt yourself or your friends. You mirrored the image of Jongin and Baekhyun, materializing the weapon you felt could hold your ground. Your father’s Triton.

“Well,” the man smirked. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun imagine #byun baekhyun #chanyeol

27 notes · View notes

justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

Merfolk are Overrated

Chapter 4: To The Shore

Kodya’s class takes a fieldtrip, and it goes about as well as can be expected when you let three curious mermaids loose in a general store.

Read on ao3 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041904/chapters/62957779

Or below the cut

As the weeks rolled by, a pattern began to emerge. Kodya would wake up early and go out fishing, just like before. Only now three bright-colored heads would rise from the water to greet him as soon as he cut the engine, the Kid at the forefront with some small gift to appease Kodya. He would still set out the nets, like always. But now a mermaid or two would be there to try and help. Occasionally one, usually Red, would get stuck and need to be cut out. Kodya would still eat his lunches out on the water like always, but now those lunches would be shared by three mermaids chattering and snacking themselves. Even Fluffy would mime out an opinion or two. Then after lunch, Kodya would start teaching.

Gyrus was, by far, the best student Kodya had ever seen. It took him almost no time to learn basic math, and soon he was calculating faster and with greater accuracy than Kodya himself could. Kodya had once tried to explain how budgeting worked to illustrate why his nets were so important, and by that evening Gyrus had completely reorganized his budget to the point where he was saving more money than he’d thought was possible. In all honesty, Kodya was pretty sure Gyrus was some kind of super genius, and found he was rapidly running out of things to teach him.

If he’d only known the Kid, Kodya is pretty sure that he would have chalked up Gyrus’ super-intelligence to just a siren thing. But alas, it appeared that great age did not translate to skill with numbers, as both Fluffy and Red were leagues behind. Not that they were terrible, Kodya begrudgingly noted that if they had been to elementary school together they both have had higher grades than he did. But they needed a slower pace, and often Kodya found he had to slow down the lesson to accommodate them.

If teaching them all math had been their only goal, Kodya would have tried giving Fluffy and Red more class hours while sending the Kid off to do homework or something. But neither Fluffy or Red showed any particular interest in putting extra work into improving their own skills. They’d put up a show to support Gyrus of course, but Fluffy’s constant fidgeting and Red’s frustrated growls made it very clear they did not really want to be there. This in turn made Gyrus get distracted trying to explain and keep them interested, meaning he didn’t advance either. Eventually Kodya just got tired of it and told them to go out and help fish every other afternoon, while he focused on more advanced material with Gyrus.

This they happily accepted, only attending class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and leaving Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to the Kid and Kodya. Kodya would never admit it, but these days were his favorite. He’d stay out way longer than he usually did, just to keep whatever conversation the Kid inevitably dragged him into going. He hadn’t enjoyed another person’s company this much since he’d met Nephthys.

Nephthys noticed the change in behavior, commenting about how mopey he got while away from the sea, and giggling that he might have gotten a boyfriend he didn’t tell her about. Kodya was quick to deny this, but more than willing to talk about whatever trouble Red, Fluffy, and the Kid got into, under the pretense of being pesky dolphins of course. Such stories would appease her curiosity, and she rarely went beyond light teasing as she watched Kodya inevitably perk up as the weekend drew to a close and Monday neared.

It was on one such Monday that Kodya finally worked up the courage to ask Gyrus a question that had been weighing on him for a while.

“So how old are you anyways?” Kodya said, eyes on the white board as he wrote out a few problems he’d created based off of his and Nephthys’s shopping lists and an old book about store finance.

“Probably around your age,” Gyrus shrugged, to absorbed in his work on the problems to notice the way Kodya had shut the book to look at him sharply.

“And how old do you think I am?” Kodya pressed.

“I don’t know, 200s right?” Gyrus glanced up at him, and finally seemed to realize something was wrong. “Are you older?” He offered, looking embarrassed, and not at all like a being who was most certainly not a kid.

“I’m 24,” Kodya stated, voice flat. Now what am I going to call you? He mentally despaired.

“24?” Gyrus’ mouth fell open. “But you can’t be! You’re clearly an adult!”

“Of course I’m an adult!” Kodya crossed his arms, “I’ve been an adult for six years!”

“18?” Gyrus’ tail twitched in agitation. “Humans reach maturity so young? How long do you live?”

Kodya shifted uncomfortably at his tone, feeling slightly offended. He wasn’t the weird one here. “We live to be around 80? Some a bit less and some a bit longer, you know, a normal amount.”

“That’s so short,” Gyrus shook his head. “I can’t even…how can you stand it?”

“Hey!” Kodya scowled down at Gyrus, “Most creatures live way shorter life spans, so I’d say you living so long is the weird one here. We do just fine with 80 years thanks.”

Gyrus placed his head in his hands. “Every time I think I’m beginning to understand humans, I find out there’s so much more I don’t know.” He looked very small then, and forlorn. Kodya felt his anger dissipate.

“Look, Kid,” he said, drawing the last word on his tongue to see if Gyrus would notice and protest. He didn’t, and so Kodya plowed on. “You’re doing fine. You’ve learned everything I taught you way quicker than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Not everything,” Gyrus sighed as he picked up his whiteboard. “I can do the calculations, sure, but I don’t really get all the words. Like this one,” he pointed to a problem, “35 cents for bananas. What are bananas? I know they must be food from how you talk about them, but I have no idea what they look like. And this!” He jabbed a finger at one of the words, “Bug spray! How do you get something as small as a bug to spray anything?”

“Slow down Kid,” Kodya interrupted and Gyrus deflated at the sound of his voice. “I can bring you a banana and bug spray if you want.”

“But even if you did, there would inevitably be something else I can’t picture or misunderstand. I just wish,” he sighed again, pulling his emerald tail close around his body. “I just wish I could see it all for myself.”

His lower lip started to tremble, and Kodya felt his heart clench at the sight. “Maybe you could,” he said, and then instantly wanted to hit himself for promising something so impossible. But Gyrus was looking at him with wide, watery eyes like Kodya just promised him the moon, and Kodya couldn’t bring himself to deny him anything.

----------------

The old shed opened with the loud grating noise of rusted hinges. Kodya winced slightly at the sound, before pushing forward into the crowded space before him. Nephthys had said the inflatable kiddie pool was just in here the last time she’d seen it. But that had been nearly seven years ago, back when she’d tried to teach him how to swim in exchange for teaching her written English. Those lessons had not lasted very long, in part because Kodya was much less gracious as a student than as a teacher, and in part because the drowning incident had still been fresh in his mind.

He shoved aside The fishing rod he’d gotten for his Mom at fifteen, still as clean and unused as the day he’d bought it, and some of her old Navy Seal camping gear. Where was it? It should be with the practical stuff…

Something bright and pink caught his eye, the faded plastic tucked quietly in a corner behind some old storage bins. Kodya waded over towards it and gave it a gentle tug, pulling out of another box labeled POOL in his mother’s loopy handwriting. He pulled the cumbersome plastic out, and stopped.

There was something else in the bin, soft against his hands. Weird. He couldn’t think of anything pool related that was soft, and his mother was usually so organized. He looked down to see a strange fur wrap below. It was plain brown, with faded spots making a star pattern along it. One edge was jagged and sharp, with bits of leather skin poking out below it. Kodya ran a finger down the edge, and wondered if someone had taken a blunt knife to it.

The plastic of the pool rustled against the boxes as Kodya shifted, drawing his attention back towards it. He shut the pool box with a snap. Whatever it was, it didn’t concern him. His mother could sort it out on her own time. He had a mermaid’s day to make.

---------

“I’m back!” Kodya called as two brightly colored heads appeared in the water. “And you’ll never believe what I brought for you today!”

Gyrus beamed at him, and Kodya took a minute to examine that lovely smile and enjoy how it was all for him. “We’ve got something to show you too!” the Kid exclaimed, “Do you want to see it?”

“Sure Kid,” Kodya allowed himself a slight twitch of his lips, wondering what seaglass or shells Gyrus had brought for him today. “But I’ll bet mine’s better.”

Red and the Kid exchanged glances, before Red sighed. “Just so we are clear,” she said, “I do not fully approve of this idea.” So saying, she dove into the water, and in her place rose a single white corner, then another and another, until there was a great white box with a handle sticking out the side.

Kodya blinked. “What is that supposed to be?” He asked, squinting at the sides. Something about the faded pink stickers looked familiar. Was that ice cream?

“It’s a box with wheels!” Gyrus proclaimed, gesturing to the suspiciously familiar object. Kodya raised an eyebrow, and the Kid blushed. “Lift it higher!” Gyrus hissed, and the white box raised above the water, allowing for both the wheels and Fluffy’s head to come into view.

“See?” Gyrus’ purple orbs practically glowed. Beside him Fluffy beamed and even Red looked a bit smug.

“I see,” said Kodya, feeling somewhat baffled. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“That’s the best part!” the Kid’s green tail surfaced to slash the top of the water excitedly. It went straight into Tori’s face and she sputtered, causing one end to dip back into the water. “This box holds water! Without it coming out! If you put me in this I could come with you to shore!”

Well that diminished Kodya’s surprise a bit. He felt a bit hurt. He’d put a lot of thought into his kiddie pool. But he shook it off in favor of squinting at the white cart. It was looking more and more familiar the more he stared.

“Is that,-” he frowned, “- Oli’s ice cream cart?!” Oli’s ice cream was a staple on the beach in the summer months, and he’d recently upgraded to owning a portable cart that he employed Anan to push around and increase business. But Anan had lost it under what he claimed was a sudden storm. Kodya narrowed his eyes. “Did you hypnotize Anan into giving that up?”

“We didn’t hypnotize anyone,” Red sniffed. “This was a gift.”

“We just asked, and he handed it right over!” Gyrus added. “He didn’t even stop to question why we were all in the water!”

Fluffy batted her eyelashes and then threw Kodya a wink, and Kodya had the sneaking suspicion that they had used a different method of coercion instead. But hey, he shrugged. Oli hadn’t held that much of a grudge, and it was high time Anan learned a lesson about not giving in to the whims of every pretty girl that smiled at him.

“So what was it you brought for us?” Gyrus asked innocently, and all three mermaids' attention snapped to him.

“Oh,” Kodya rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I kinda brought something similar, only bigger, and with no wheels.”

“Really?” Gyrus beamed. “That’s great! Now we can all go on land!” All? Kodya opened his mouth to protest. He could hide maybe one mermaid, but three?

“That would set some of my fears to rest,” Red said, sounding appeased. “I did not want to leave Gyrus to wander this strange world without protection.”

Fluffy began bobbing up and down in the water, splashing wildly with the ice cream cart to show her enthusiasm.

I’m not getting out of this, Kodya realized with a sinking dread as all three mermaids celebrated around him. I need a plan.

--------------

The plan was simple. Really. Early in the morning, Kodya would meet the three mermaids at the docks. There was a rainstorm scheduled for Thursday, perfect for both providing cover and keeping the mermaids wet. Kodya would load the three of them into the back of his truck, where they would climb into the kiddy pool. Then Kodya would drive really slowly into town, pull out the white cart, now covered in a blanket to pass as a wheelchair, and wheel each mermaid through the store. Simple.

The first part went off without a hitch. It was indeed raining on Thursday morning, the icky, thick, constant rain that made it very uncomfortable to be outside for long periods of time. When Kodya arrived on the dock, he found it deserted. Perfect.

“Guys?” he hissed as he scanned the dark waves. “It’s time.” Three multicolored heads rose from below the dock to greet him.

“That took too long,” Red grumbled. “I had half thought ye’d grown cold feet.”

“It took longer to fill the pool than I expected,” Kodya sighed. “Now come on.” He extended his arms towards Fluffy, who was closest.

Red batted his hand away. “I’ll go first,” she snapped. “It is my duty as champion of the queen to ensure the safety of the rest of the pod.” Kodya rolled his eyes, but complied, hauling her surprisingly light body up into the air. Sylvia went next, eagerly wrapping strong arms around his neck as he lifted her up into the truck too.

And then at last, it was Gyrus’ turn. Kodya reached down for him, determined not to react. It was just a simple assist after all. Kodya could feel both warm skin and slick scales as he carefully lifted him into the air. Gyrus’ arms wrapped around Kodya’s neck, pulling close to Kodya’s chest and soaking his already wet shirt further.

Gyrus ran a curious hand through his hair, playing with the hair tie in the back. “You’re hair feels so strange dry,” He murmured, lavender orbs hypnotic. Their faces were inches apart, and Kodya froze. They hadn’t been this close since the day they met, when Gyrus had called him perfect, and the mere memory sent Kodya’s whole face alight. Gyrus gave the slightest of frowns as he ran gentle fingers through Kodya’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

“If ye are quite finished,” Tori’s loud voice broke through Kodya’s haze, “the sooner we start this, the sooner we can get back to the sea.”

Kodya yelped, placing Gyrus hastily in the back of the truck and ducking his head as he hurried to the front. Still bright red, he gripped the back of the wheel and took several deep breaths. He needed to focus damn it. Or this whole trip would end in disaster.

Disaster…the various, horrible ends of this hair brained scheme were enough to bring him back to reality. If he messed up here, the mermaids could end up in an aquarium, or worse, dissected. He took a deep breath and put the truck in drive. By the time he’d reached the store, the image of Gyrus’ face so close to his own was properly suppressed in the back of his mind.

---------

Step two turned out to have its own set of problems. Namely that as soon as he put the truck in park, he found the mermaids arguing in the back about who would go in first.

“It will be I,” Red’s arms were crossed. “It’s my job to keep you safe, there’s no point in arguing.”

“You don’t even want to see the store!” Gyrus scowled. “Nor do you know as much about humans as I do! And besides,” he crossed his arms, “I’ll be with Kodya so there’s no need to protect me!” He glanced to the side. “Right Sylvia?”

Fluffy threw up her hands in a clear signal of, keep me out of this!

“What’s the problem now?” Kodya massaged the space between his brow. Both Red and the Kid turned on him.

“I am going first, and that is final,” Red snapped at the same time Gyrus said,

“It isn’t fair!”

Kodya sighed, considering. On the one hand, letting Red go first would strengthen the fragile trust they had formed. On the other hand, the Kid was far, far too old to be babied like Red wanted, and going first with Red meant introducing her to Alistair. Kodya squared his shoulders. He’d rather avoid whatever fight she’d pick for as long as possible.

“It’s the Kid’s trip, he gets to go first,” he said, and Red scowled while Gyrus lit up.

“Alright!” Gyrus pulled himself to the edge of the truck to avoid the angry Red. “Help me down and let’s get going!”

“Not so fast kid!” Kodya scolded. “I’ve got to get the wheelchair ready first.” He pulled out the ice cream cart and opened the lid, revealing the cold water he’d taken from his hose the night before.

Carefully, he picked Gyrus up again, this time avoiding eye contact, and plopped him inside. Access water flooded over the edge and distracted the Kid while Kodya tried to hide his blush. To distract himself, he fiddled with the lid, wondering how it would close without bothering the top sticking out.

“This is so exciting!” Gyrus turned to Kodya, eyes shining. Kodya’s hands tightened on the lid at the sight, and a crack came from underneath them. Both Gyrus and Kodya looked down at the now unattached lid. Well, Kodya thought. There goes that problem.

The blanket was thrown over the top to hide the water and the faded ice cream stickers, and the makeshift wheelchair was ready to go. There was just one thing missing. “Here.” Kodya pulled out an old shirt and handed it to Gyrus. “Humans can’t go in stores without full clothing,” he explained, trying to make it seem normal and not like he’d spent hours agonizing over which one of his old shirts to give to Gyrus.

“Thank you,” Gyrus murmured, pulling the bright yellow shirt, specifically chosen to match the yellow tips of his tail, over his head. “Yellow is my favorite color.” Kodya shrugged as casually as he could, but tucked that little piece of information away in his brain.

“Time to go,” he said, stepping behind the cart pushing it towards the door.

---------

As Kodya predicted, Gyrus loved the store. He found everything about it fascinating. From the food to the overpriced towels and swimwear for tourists. Kodya thought he would explode when he found the nets Kodya usually bought and recognized them. He wanted to know how everything worked, what it all did, and why Kodya would or wouldn’t buy it. The towels in particular fascinated him, as he had known humans hated to be too wet, but he’d never realized what a big deal it was until he saw all the different patterns and colors. He was quite disappointed when Kodya broke it to him that the colors and patterns were purely decorative, and didn’t hold any significance at all.

Eventually they got down to business. Kodya walked Gyrus through his grocery list, explaining what each item looked like and what it did. Gyrus seemed to have memorized the prices, and was more than eager to read off the numbers and comment on cheaper options available. Kodya would then have to justify his choice, usually because of quality, and explain it to an attentive Gyrus. It was a long process, but Kodya didn’t think he’d ever had this much fun shopping for groceries before.

But as Kodya finished explaining about bananas and how they worked, he noticed Gyrus’ mood had taken a turn for the morose.

“What’s wrong?” Kodya asked, as Gyrus stared glumly down at the bunch of bananas in his hands. “Am I going too fast?”

“No, no,” Gyrus sighed. “It’s stupid.” Kodya crossed his arms, waiting, and Gyrus shifted the bananas into one hand to run the free one through his hair. “It’s not that I’m not grateful you brought me here so I could see everything, it’s just,” he peaked up at Kodya through his starshaped bangs, “there’s so much of it. I’ll never learn it all today, even if we didn’t have to hurry up and give Tori and Sylvia their turn.”

“Who said you had to learn it all today?” Kodya pointed out. “We’ve got the pool and the wheelchair now. We can definitely come back here again.”

“But it won’t always be raining,” Gyrus pointed out. “You might get seen helping us out of the water.”

Kodya waved a hand as he began to push Gyrus forward. “We’ll just have to figure out another way then. You’re smart. You know what the hurdles are, you come up with something.”

Gyrus shot Kodya a small smile. “Thank you Kodya,” he said. “You really are the best person to teach me.” Kodya ducked his head and pushed harder, trying to hide his blush.

“Kodya? Is that you? I thought I recognized you wandering about my store!” Kodya’s head snapped up to see Alistair waving from the counter. Oh no. “But who is this handsome stranger you’ve brought with you?” Alistair practically jumped over the counter to see better. It took all of Kodya’s strength not to grab the cart's controls and wheel them both out the door.

“Careful Alistair!” Kodya shouted as the man stepped closer and began shamelessly feeling up Gyrus’ muscles. “He’s in a wheelchair!” He pushed Alistair away as Gyrus starred with a look of absolute puzzlement on his face.

“Of course, of course!” Alistair said as he stepped back to lean on his counter. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“I’m Gyrus,” Gyrus said, sounding faintly amused. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure! An absolute pleasure! I am Alistair, and this is my humble store!” Alistair gave a sweeping gesture to encompass the whole building. Kodya rolled his eyes at his theatrics.

“Are you really?” Gyrus asked, sounding intrigued. “Where do you get all the items for sale?”

“Trying to find my sources? How shameless,” Alistair raised an eyebrow and Gyrus blushed, sensing he’d done something wrong. Kodya scowled. “But don’t worry!” Alistair laughed. “My sources are all local, like our charming mutual friend, Kodya here!” He pointed to Kodya who crossed his arms.

“I don’t supply you that often,” Kodya grumbled.

“Oh come now Kodya, don’t be modest.” Alistair winked, he leaned over to Gyrus and whispered, “He caught me a great white shark, I still have the teeth if you want to buy them!”

“I know,” Gyrus smiled. “But I don’t need another shark’s tooth.”

“Another?” Alistair drew back in shock, mouth hanging open. He glanced wildly between Gyrus and Kodya. “You don’t mean to tell me our grumpy Kodya snagged a stud like you?”

“We aren’t dating Alistair,” Kodya stepped in before Gyrus had a chance to misunderstand. “I’m just showing him around while he’s in the states.”

“So he’s single?” Alistair said, and Kodya felt his heart stop.

“Kodya’s been really kind to me!” Gyrus piped up, clearly hoping to back up the illusion of being new to the area. “He’s taught me so much about these states!”

“Oh really? And what has he taught you?” Alistair leaned forward into Gyrus’ personal space.

“Lots! I’ve learned about money, and the presidents on the bills, and dinosaurs…” Gyrus began to rattle off all the things he’d recently learned while Alistair took the opportunity to stare shamelessly at his lips.

Kodya rolled his eyes, disgusted, then froze. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn he’d seen a blue tail.

-----------

Kodya stalked through the store, following the telltale trail of water down the aisles. He hated to leave the Kid alone with Alistair, but he trusted him to be able to handle himself and keep Alistair distracted while Kodya hunted down their real problem.

Speaking of which, he turned a corner to find one half of the dynamic duo munching happily away on the fish in the deli. “Fluffy!” Kodya hissed, as the pink-haired mermaid turned her wide eyes on him. “What are you doing here? And where’s Red?” He’d seen a blue tail, and unless Fluffy had changed her forest green scales blue and back in the last minute, there was no way she was alone.

Fluffy shrugged, gesturing to the fish in front of her to say, I don’t know, I got distracted by the food.

Kodya cursed, striding forward to grab Fluffy bodily and drag her away with a cry of, “you aren’t supposed to be here!” His motion startled Fluffy, whose tail whipped around and knocked the whole deli over, sending the whole display of fish directly on top of her.

Kodya and Fluffy froze. Panicked blue meeting panicked brown. For a second all was still, until in the silence the clunking sound of heavy boots began to fill the air. Fluffy sprang into action, covering herself with the fish in an attempt to blend in. Kodya helped, figuring that if whoever was coming mistook her tail for another fish they might just by themselves some time.

They had just finished when Knox, an employee of Alistair’s store, rounded the corner. “I heard a loud noise, and have been instructed to look for damages,” he said in that monotone voice of his.

Kodya could have cried with relief. If there was one word that summed Knox up, it was gullible. “Don’t just stand there!” He snapped, putting on his most thunderous expression. “Get the first aid kit!” Knox paused, eyes traveling from Kodya’s face to Sylvia’s fish covered tail, to her big puppy dog eyes about to overflow with tears.

“I will retrieve it,” he said, voice still montone, but there was a quickness in his step that betrayed his concern. As soon he turned the corner Kodya let out a relieved sigh.

Fluffy beamed up at Kodya, clearly ecstatic that it had worked. Kodya frowned back at her. “We still need to get out of here before he gets back,” he pointed out.

Fluffy rolled her eyes with the clear message of, you worry too much. And no Kodya wasn’t having that. He grabbed her arm and tugged it upwards.

“Come on,” he said as Fluffy obligingly circled her arms around his neck so he could lift her up. “We’ve got to find Red and get out of here before he comes back.”

“Before who comes back?” Kodya and Fluffy’s heads snapped to the right to see Tori emerging from the towel section. “And what was that noise?”

“What were you thinking!” Kodya felt his fury return in full force. “You knew you had to wait in the truck!” Fluffy looked down guiltily, but Red crossed her arms.

“I am the Champion of the Queen.” She scowled. “It is my duty to keep Gyrus safe. You were taking too long.”

“Gyrus is perfectly fine!” Kodya hissed, taking a step forward. “But now thanks to you two, I had to leave him alone, and now I have to get you out of here before anyone sees your tails and calls the press!”

Red drew herself up to her full height, which given half of her was a floppy fishtail, wasn’t that impressive. “I am perfectly capable of…” But Fluffy held up a hand to stop her, cocking her ear as if listening. Kodya and Tori followed her example, and Kodya’s heart stopped once again.

Footsteps.

Red dove towards the racks of towels as Kodya looked around wildly for a place to stash Fluffy. Could he throw her back into the fish?

Too soon the footsteps came to a halt. Kodya froze as a very familiar voice said, “Kody?”

Slowly Kodya turned around to see Nephthys standing in the aisle, eyes wide as she took in Red half hidden behind the towels and Fluffy still in Kodya’s arms. “Neph, I can explain,” he started, but she shook her head.

“Alistair is coming!” She said as she pulled out her purse. “Distract him while I fix this!” Kodya wanted to argue he’d be better able to carry both mermaids, wanted to ask why she wasn’t reacting, but the look in her eyes told him not to argue. He wordlessly handed off Fluffy and hurried back to where Alistair and Gyrus were waiting.

“Kodya!” Alistair called out. “What was that all about?”

“You just left,” Gyrus added, a bit reproachfully. “Then we heard a huge crash.”

Kodya waved a hand. “An accident. But don’t worry, Nephthys is taking care of it.” He shot Gyrus a look that he hoped communicated, help me distract him.

Alistair was still frowning, concern clear on his face. “I should still check it out, someone could have been hurt.”

“You really don’t have to,” Kodya said, and Gyrus added,

“Didn’t you say you can’t leave the counter to avoid losing a sale?”

Alistair stroked his beard, looking torn. “This is true, but I really can’t ignore people hurt in my store…” his face split into a sly grin that made Kodya’s stomach drop. “So Gyrus, you’re hired!”

“I’m what?” Gyrus stared in confusion.

“Wait a minute!” Kodya protested. “You can’t just hire Gyrus!” He was a mermaid for one, with a tail and no social security!

“Why not?” Alistair beamed. “He’s got all the qualifications: He has an understanding of basic math, thinks Andrew Jackson isn’t worthy of his position on the twenty dollar bill, and best of all, he’s really cute!” Alistair winked at Kodya and turned to Gyrus, “So what do you say? I’ll pay you an entry level salary, but with your brain and looks you’re likely to get promoted no problem!”

“You’ll pay me?” Gyrus blinked. “In money?”

Alistair opened his mouth to reply, an amused smile on his lips, just as Nephthys rounded the corner with Fluffy on her shoulder and another woman with red hair helping Nephthys support her. “Time to go Kody!”

Kodya wasted no time, grabbing Gyrus’s wheelchair’s handles as Gyrus scrambled for the grocery bags and began wheeling him out after the three women.

“Wait a minute,” Alistair started, “What happened?” But Nephthys waved her free hand behind her.

“Got it handled, take care of the mess and bill me!” She cried as she pushed through the door, a towel wrapped over Fluffy’s tail as she and the familiar looking stranger carried her out. Kodya and Gyrus followed, leaving a confused Alistair behind as they stepped into the open air.

“Where’s Red?” Kodya asked as soon as they got to the safety of the truck. He and the blue-tailed mermaid never saw eye to eye, but he didn’t want to leave her stuck in there.

“I’m right here,” snapped the woman with the red hair, “or have you gone blind?” Kodya blinked, and blinked again, his brain not catching up with his eyes. His gaze traveled down, from her distinctive red hair, to her odd plated shirt, to the towel tied around her waist, and her….

“You have legs!” Gyrus screamed, finger pointing in shock. Kodya blinked again, and yes. That was what his brain was struggling to comprehend. Before them both stood Red, on two legs and looking utterly human.

Tori placed a hand on her hip. “Yes, thanks to the potion the witch gave me.” She gestured to Nephthys with her other hand.

Kodya’s eyes flicked to Nephthys, and she gave him jazz hands with an awkward smile. “Surprise?”

#room of swords #room of swords fanfic #kodya #gyrus #sylvia #tori #strawbarrow #mermaid au #menfolk are overrated

10 notes · View notes

exosmutfactory · 4 years

Text

Dark Horse-Chapter Two

All I know is that one day my boyfriend and lifelong best friend disappeared. No word of him from anyone. No trace of him anywhere. And after 6 agonizing months, they concluded that he is dead. So why the fuxk do I seeing him strolling around town at 3am?

[ warnings: Baëkhyun is a carnivore, okay ]

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 ✓ |

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Observations

“Okay everyone, let’s share what you want to be when you grow up!” Our english teacher, Mrs. Kim, with the typical thick rimmed glasses and perfectly made bun exclaims from behind her desk. Books stacked high and orderly on either side as excitement seeps from her every word. That wild twinkle in her right eye terrifying me without fail.

Hiding behind my shield, I clutch on to the back of his shirt; keeping Mr. Bunny tucked into the crook of my elbow.

“I want to be an astronaut!”

“A doctor!”

“A princess!”

Mrs. Kim smiles while looking over everyone’s glowing faces, but no one shines like the boy hiding my small form from view. “Baekhyun?”

My shield nearly blinds the room with his boxy grin; two front teeth missing as he points his finger to the sky. “My name is Byun Baekhyun!” He proclaims, pointing back at himself, “And I’m going to be the best fencer to ever live!”

Mrs. Kim’s eyes twinkle even more, the unnaturally grey orbs shifting to peek at my shying away form, “Charity?”

Baekhyun steps to the side, and I clutch tighter onto his soft t-shirt, meeting his gentle eyes with my alarmed ones. ‘Go on,’ He wordlessly nods, smiling encouragingly.

“I…” I squeak, hiding in my shirt collar; keeping my eyes steady in his. Taking a deep breath, I start over again, “I want to be…”

////

“ey...”

“He..”

My brows furrow as I curl my stiff fingers; struggling to open my eyes. It feels almost as if my eyelids are glued together.

“HEY!”

With a start, my eyes snap open. I shoot up into a sitting position—actions that leave me crying out in pain at the unpleasant crack of my stiff bones and the hot tears pouring from my throbbing eyes.

“Get up.” A figure hisses; their silhouette blurry until I’m able to rub the blinding eyelashes and tears from my eyes.

“W-What,” I croak, rubbing my sore throat. “What time is it?”

The old man scoffs, tapping his cane against the brick wall. “8:30, Wednesday the 11th.” He grunts.

My brows furrow, Wednesday? But it’s-

“Baekhyun...” Narrowed green eyes, “He’s dead.”

Crimson smirking lips, “...I thought we had somëthïng spëcïal, Charïty.”

Split jaw; large mouth; crooked teeth; red and black demon eyes. Rancid breath; tight grip; a blaring siren from afar. “Sorry little lamb. We’ll play more next time.” A glimpse of blinding light. “For now, I’ll be watching.”

“See you, sweetheart.”

My eyes widen in horror and I splutter; scrambling to my feet. Days… He left me here for 3 days. Fuck. “T-Thank you.” I mumble, hastily bowing to the old man; wincing at the tear-inducing pull at my sore joints. Fuck I'm fucking late!

He tuts in displeasure. “Do that again and you might find yourself dead.” He grumbles, spewing more incoherent insults while slowly carrying on down the street.

Watching him go, I sigh, rubbing my scratchy throat and taking a look around the shaded alley. The slight glimmer of a familiar red liquid twinkling in the dim light catching my eye. I squint at it, blinking in surprise when the unnatural blood quickly shrinks to nothing; only dirtied asphalt left in its wake.

Feeling a shiver go down my spine, I quickly shake my head; exiting the smelly space and walking home on stiff legs. My eyes constantly looking over my shoulder. The rest of my memories of Sunday come back full force once I reach my apartment complex; images of a certain white-haired suave man making me flinch. God, she really knows how to mess things up, doesn’t she?

A familiar buzzing warmth flares up on my skin. I gently place a hand over the cross resting above my heart; whispering a few words and waiting for it to cool down before warily eyeing my surroundings again. I don’t know what I expected from that demon, but it surely wasn’t this.

Slipping into my apartment, I quickly shut the door and lock the dead-bolt, checking that everything is secure before limping to the kitchen. Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, I sink down into a dining chair, sighing in relief at the coolness sliding down my parched throat. Setting the empty bottle on the table, I close my eyes. Baekhyun is alive...I can feel it. I always do.

But where is he?

The sudden urge to cough itches away at my chest. Wherever he is, that thing—

Bending over, I roughly hack and cough into my hand; the feeling of a warm liquid making my eyes go wide. Shakily pulling my hand away, I gasp at the amount of red covering my palm.

Pushing away from the table, I stumble over to the pantry; flinging the door open and scanning the shelves. Where is it? Striding back out in hast, I take to the cupboards and cabinets, groaning in annoyance at the tightening feeling building in my chest. Where is it!?

Suddenly recalling the last place I left it, I quickly spin around to sprint out of the room; hissing when my forearm roughly bumps into the back of the chair. Why does it hurt ten times more when your body is ice—

I suck in a breath, warily glancing down at it halfway down the hall. A burning red, blistering patch of tissue left where my skin is supposed to be.

Flinching, I fling open the door with force, clutching the top nightstand drawer before the door collides with the wall. The drawer falls to the ground with a loud clang; my knees buckling before I can pull out the vital with cramping fingers, gritting my teeth as I painstakingly screw it open. The familiar scent of honey dew and sunkissed roses adding a temporary soothe to my screaming body. One drop. I eye the purple contents with unsteady breaths; gripping the dripper and planting one drop on the tip of my tongue. The world snapping out of focus the moment I clumsily set the bottle back into the drawer.

Soft colors....scratchy surface….loud coos….steady breaths.

My eyes peel open to a blurry baby pink ceiling, a white object too close for comfort out the corner of my eye making me flinch. Pulling myself up onto my elbows, I look to the left, blinking at the white dove sitting by my side. “Oh...Nice seeing you again, I guess, ” I greet, my voice surprisingly soft.

The bird continues to give me judging eyes.

“Look, I didn’t mean to go without it again, okay?” I lay back on the floor with a deep sigh. “At this rate, it might happen again-or worse,” I grumble, glaring up at the ceiling.

The little beauty coos insistently as I comb a cluster of soft material out of my tangled hair. “I’m okay,” I murmur, eyeing the fistful of white feathers in my hand, “Thank you for checking in though.” Grinning, I add a teasing, “Mom.”

The dove ruffles its feathers and makes a show of snapping its beak at my arm before taking flight; sailing out my window like the entering wintry breeze.

Shivering, I look around for my winter coat, spotting it draped over the back of my desk chair that’s lying sideways on top of the dresser barricading the door. Looking over to the right at my bed with the mattress halfway hanging off it, I climb to my feet with a sigh. Some things never change.

Amidst tidying up my room, I come across an inky black feather; the thin obsidian strands ruffling over the surface like the waves of a deep dark sea. Crumbling it in my hand, I quickly glance over my shoulder, shoving it deep into my dresser.

♦•—•♦•—•♦•—•♦•—•♦

“Cherry!” Mrs. Lee is a tiny ball of wild, brown curls and motherly fury; practically teleporting to the door before I fully step over the threshold. “Where have you been, young lady. I haven’t seen you in weeks!”

Wincing, I press my palm to my throbbing temple, “Sorry ma’am, I think I caught the flu.” I croak, rubbing my sore throat. The vital always leaves my body to the hands of high fevers and sleepless nights—in fact, I dare say it handed me directly over to them.

“I told you to be careful,” She sighs, fixing me a knowing look. “You’re not still sick, are you?”

“No, my throat is just-” Wincing again, I lift my arms as she pulls off my thick, black coat. Closing my eyes at the throbbing pain.

“Shh no more talking,” She scolds, folding the material over her arm, “Go have a seat, I’ll make some tea.”

“But-” The look she shoots my way has my mouth snapping shut. I quietly take a seat at the table closest to a window and the counter as she hangs the coat up and strides to the backroom.

“If you weren’t feeling unwell, I’d give you an earful,” Her voice drifts from the little window; the telltale signs of a pot boiling water adding life to the quiet building.

Tiredly resting my cheek on my palm, I gaze out the window; eyes drooping every now and then. They are sliding shut for the third time when something catches my eye—something white. Something distinctly familiar.

My eyes snap open in realization and I practically slam my face against the glass, watching with a heavy heart as a figure with two lone white braids gets lost in the crowd.

Gulping down the lump in my throat, I grip onto the edge of the table. I’ve forgotten about that damn thing while cooped up in my stuffy apartment. There’s hardly any time to think of the outside world when you’re in the midst of dying from a strong virus and having to deal with your heater going out—speaking of which, I won’t hear from my landlord until the first of January…

Cleaning my jaw, I lean back against the cushioned chair with a hand covering my burning eyes. Looks like I’ll have to take some late night drives for awhile. It’s not like anyone will be out to stop me—

A chime brings me back to the present; my eyes flicking up in alarm at the blurry white blob. My heart lodging itself in my throat.

Quickly wiping my sore eyes, I blink at the random stranger flipping off their white hoodie attached to their fleece coat; their own eyes menacing glaring at my staring form.

Averting my eyes, I graciously take the steaming cup of herbal tea from Mrs. Lee. Softly giving her thanks before she hurries back behind the counter to serve the impatient customer. I look down into the misty mug with a little sigh.

“First a murderer and now…”

An unpleasant screech makes me jump in my seat, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. Carefully pushing the cup away, I turn my attention back to the window; watching with wide eyes at the shine of a familiar fucking saber reflecting off the concrete and onto my window. The vivid sound of manic laughter echoing in my pounding ears as the man dressed in all black walks out of sight before I can catch a glimpse of his face. A sight that isn’t even needed given the all too telling stance of the casually strolling, white haired being.

“...fencing king is back in town.”

♦•—•♦•—•♦•—•♦•—•♦

Shoving the last stubborn bag of food into the freezer, I press my back to the refrigerator with a tired sigh; tossing my car keys on to the table. Rolling my stiff shoulders before an out of place noise reaches my ears. A barely audible squeak…. and the screech of the brand new window in my bedroom being pushed open—one that I always keep locked. And as if clockwork, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

The vital…

Eyeing the purple pill idly sitting by my keys on the tabletop, I fling it into the trashcan seconds before my room door is thrown open. The pained squeaks of a struggling rat silenced by a single, lewd squelch.

Steadying my breath, I face the glowing individual standing in the doorway. It stares right back at me with those blood-red pupils; licking red covered fingertips as its manic grin turns into a boxy, sinister smile.

“Hï lïttlë lamb.”

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔�� •

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 ✓ |

Late asf update BECAUSE of my sudden writer's block at the end of last year. Hopefully I can get plenty more chapters of this story posted before it happens again! I'm slowly but surely figuring out how I want the story to go so it's helping the whole writing process <3

Thank you for sticking around during this 2 month dry spell and all the support!

Happy Valentine's ^-^ ♡♡

#baekhyun angst

53 notes · View notes

a-burning-tale · 3 years

Text

1st Writing Competition

Hello everyone! Welcome to the first writing competition between us, Kat and Tay! We will be basing our short stories off of the prompt above which we got from this blog: https://writingwithus.blogspot.com/

We are both starting our short stories at 18:30 our time, and will stop at 20:30. Hope you enjoy!

Kat’s entry 🌑 1.5k words:

“Of course I’ll be safe, Annie… Yes, yes, I know, I have you on speed dial… We clicked really well and-”

Three knocks sounded at the front door, alerting Rose to her company for the night.

“Hey, I’ll have to let you go, he’s here… Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, bye.” Rose closes her phone and does one last sweep of her look, smoothing down her midnight blue dress and fluffing her brown hair just enough for some extra volume. Exiting her room with a flourish, Rose sped walked to her front door, taking just a moment to calm her racing heart, and opened it.

Standing at the door, her date gave a shining smile and held out a bouquet of blue tulips. His black hair framed his face in natural layers, and his button up shirt and slacks matched her dress perfectly. He held out an arm in invitation.

Rose accepted the bouquet, and gave Colin an equally bright smile. She wrapped her arm around his after locking her door, and walked to his car. He opened her door, got into the driver’s seat, and drove them to the known high-end restaurant across town.

The two lovebirds entered and were given a window seat, courtesy of Colin’s extra tip for the seater. Once they had settled, small talk ensued, which then led into a deeper, more interesting talk.

“I personally love star gazing, the pitch black universe dotted with glowing orbs just fascinates me.” Colin’s deep and clear voice seemed to reverberate through Rose, causing her to relax.

“I love the stars too, there’s something peaceful to looking up into oblivion.” Rose responded with a lilt to her voice, utterly enamored.

This is going so well, it seems he already knows me and we’ve only been here for 20 minutes.

“Did you know that I’ll actually try to count the stars sometimes? I don’t know why, I’ve been doing it ever since I was a child. If I was ever bored at night, I would climb onto the roof and try to count.” Colin let out a deep chuckle from the fond memory, looking up to Rose’s hickory colored eyes to find them shimmering with delight.

“It’s kind of pointless to count the stars, you know?” A giggle escaped her mouth at that as she reached with her left hand for her glass of water, her right hand resting on her lap beneath the table.

“It’s also pointless to count freckles, but I know you have 24 on the edge of your right hand.” A smile plastered on his face, he turned after his comment and spoke to the waiter.

Rose stopped, confused, and stomach dropping. As he was talking, she did a quick count of her freckles, not even knowing the amount.

There were indeed 24, but she couldn’t let her fear show, just in case she was over thinking the comment. She looked back up as he was turning back towards her, and forced a pleasant smile on her face.

“What else do you know about me?” Her voice was still normal, thank goodness.

“Well, I believe you told me your favorite color was green, right?” His smile never faltered, and she let out a light chuckle to make a mask of lightheartedness.

“Right you are!” But we had never talked about our favorite colors. “Can you guess my favorite animal?”

“Hm… a lion!” Another smile from him.

“Right again!” Oh my god, what do I do?

“I also would bet that your favorite season is winter! Did I get that right?”

“You did! Are you like, psychic or something?” What do I do, what do I do?

“I know right? It’s like we’re meant for each other!” His smile seemed to broaden more if possible. Rose tried to broaden her smile, but failed.

“I have to use the restroom real quick, I’ll be right back.” She gives him a quick, tight lipped grin, and walks away, phone in hand.

As soon as Rose entered the bathroom, she was calling Annie.

“You were right, he’s not normal. I mean, he knew my favorite color, my favorite season, my favorite animal. He knew how many freckles I had on the outside of my right hand, Annie. How does anyone know that? I didn’t know that!” Rose’s voice became hoarse, her breathing ragged.

Annie’s smooth voice came through the phone. “Okay, slow down, what do you need me to do?”

“I don’t know, call the cops, come pick me up, something. I don’t want to be alone with this guy again.” Tears threatened to spill, fear starting to overcome her.

“Okay, okay, I’ll call the cops and let them know, where are you right now?”

“I’m at the fancy restaurant across town, you know, the expensive one.”

“The Collar?”

“Yes! Yes, The Collar!” Rose practically screamed.

“Okay, Rose, listen to me, you have to go back out there and pretend everything’s okay. Right after I get off the phone with you, I’ll call the police and have them bring you home. I’ll be waiting there, okay? Just stay calm, and don’t let him know you’re onto him, got it?”

“Yeah, okay, I can do that.” Rose took a few deep breaths, preparing to go out again. “I’ll see you later.” And the call disconnected.

Rose looked in the mirror, touched up her makeup, and went back to the table.

“Sorry that took so long! I guess something I ate yesterday didn’t settle too well.”

Colin’s face turned into one of confusion.

“I didn’t think you ate anything harsh yesterday, just some light pasta and garlic bread?” Colin’s emerald eyes bore into hers, a genuine question, waiting for an answer.

“Something could’ve been bad in the ingredients…” How? He couldn’t have known that. I didn’t send any pictures. I didn’t talk about what I ate. How?

“Oh well, at least you had a good night with your book and all. I know how much you enjoy relaxing after a long day with a few chapters from your favorite book, To Kill a Mockingbird. Harper Lee is a stunning author.”

Rose could feel the color draining from her face, and apparently Colin noticed too. He started stammering.

“I- I know because your friends told me!” Liar. “You know- Annie! She told me!”

Rose heard the sirens first, and noticed red and blue lights out the window.

“Annie doesn’t know you, doesn’t have your number, or have you on any social media. I’ve also never mentioned Annie to you. How do you know all of this?” Rose’s voice turned cold and sharp, and her hickory eyes dull.

“No-no, that’s not at all how it is. You’re taking this the wrong way. I’m just that good at guessing!” Colin looks at Rose, desperation in his eyes.

Rose keeps her stare dull.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Colin’s voice becomes unnervingly calm, dark even.

Rose glances down out the window, checking on the status of the policemen. She sees them parking, and decides to make her escape.

Quickly getting up, she grabs her belongings and moves to get away from the table. Colin’s fast however, and grabs her left wrist in a death grip, trying to pull her back to him.

Rose swivels over her left shoulder, and slams her flattened hand into Colin’s throat, causing him to release her wrist and go into a coughing fit. She hurries off out the door, and finds the officers just outside the restaurant entrance. She immediately introduces herself.

“I’m Rose, my friend Annie called you because of the guy I was on a date with. He’s right over there. Please, get him away from me. He’s crazy. I’m pretty sure he’s been stalking me. He knows my nightly routine, what I ate yesterday, stuff he shouldn’t know. I don’t know how he knows-”

“Ma’am, it’s alright, we’ll take care of it. Do you have a way home?” The policeman spoke to her while his partner went to confront Colin. His gentle face helped her calm her racing thoughts.

“No, he drove me here.”

“That’s alright, we’ll have another officer drive you home. Your friend told me that she’d drive to your house and wait for you there.”

“Yeah, that’s what she told me.”

“Good. Now let’s get you outside and away from him.”

Colin’s screaming echoed in the hallway, and slowly faded the farther away Rose and the policeman went.

When the two reached the police cars, Rose was greeted by another two officers, a man and a woman. She was ushered into the car before Colin came out, in hopes that he wouldn’t see her.

He didn’t notice in his frenzy.

The police officers entered the car, and drove her home, exactly to where Annie said was waiting. Rose hopped out of the car, thanking the two for getting her home safely, and ran to Annie, desperate for the touch of a trusted person.

Annie held her until she let go, looking her over for any injuries. When she was satisfied that Rose had received none, the two walked into the house, Annie speaking to her.

“Let’s give you a proper date now. I’ll make you some pasta, I already brought over some wine - red moscato, your favorite - and we can get some garlic bread going. Sound good?”

Rose looked at Annie with a smile.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tay’s entry ❤ 1.3k words:

It was the perfect night to finally take the most beautiful girl in 12th grade, Heather Farley, out on a proper date. She has a perfect frame, which she complimented with a cute sunflower dress and sandals. Also, her eyes are the deepest shade of blue that almost make her irises disappear. She is a new student, and seems to have every class with me. In fact, that is how I first noticed her. She became my lab partner for Chemistry and saved me from mixing the wrong substances that would have had the school smelling like gym socks for weeks.

I found this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that I have been hiding from even my close friends, in fear they would just turn it into another ‘hot spot’ for making out and talking about that season’s team making it to State. It has an open terrace in the back, lit up with stringed lights and lanterns at each table as soon as the sun goes down. They mostly serve finger foods, but what I go for is my favorite milkshake. I have it down to a science really; you have the chocolate ice cream of course, with two shots of espresso, chocolate chips, whipped cream and two cherries (that I let sink to the bottom to soak up the flavors).

As Heather and I are walking from the bus station to the restaurant, she gingerly slides her hand into mine, and she visibly seems content. She casually leans her head on my shoulder as the restaurant comes into view.

“Wonderful night, don’t you think Alex?”

I smile and answer. “It sure is Heather. Are you ready to eat at the best place on earth?”

“‘Best place on earth, huh? You seem pretty confident that I will like this place.” She softy laughs and suddenly lets go of my hand. “Race you to the front door.” No sooner did those words escape her mouth that she already had a huge gap on me. Being the fastest runner in our school’s division, it was effortless for me to catch up to her.

As we both tried to catch our breath, she squints at me and says, “You could have at least let me win, Mr. Track Star.” We both laugh and I apologize. We calm down and smooth out our clothing and walk to the door. Before I can open it, my phone starts to go off. I quickly scramble through my pockets but realize that it was just my friend calling and not my mother.

“Is everything okay, Alex?” Heather asks me.

“Oh! Ya, it’s just my friend, Tyrone. He probably forgot to do his homework again. Would you mind going in and getting us a table, I don’t get service in there.” She looks a bit upset but then her expression quickly changes, and she happily nods her head and walks in. I walk to the side of the building and answer my phone.

“What do you want, Tyrone? I don’t know if you remember, but I am on a date.” I say with a little bit of edge in my tone.

“Awe, come on man! I was just checking in on you, you never know with these girls. Besides, you never told me which hottie you were going with, just wanted to make sure I didn’t call my man’s date for a night cap.” You could hear him pause for a moment before he completely busted out laughing. “As if I have any girls’ number. But, no, for real, who is the lucky girl?”

“Really funny man. And I did tell you, but you were too busy looking at yourself in the mirror after practice. It’s Heather Farley, the new girl in our grade.”

There was a pause and then, “Wait, there are two Heather’s? The only Heather I know is the one who seemed to have some work done or finally knew what make-up and shampoo were over the summer. Same Heather who hasn’t shown up for her classes all semester.”

Confused I start in again, “That Heather? I haven’t seen her yet this year. I thought she had glasses, this Heather doesn’t have glasses.”

Tyrone scoffs, “Dude, I don’t know. I guess just see what her deal is. She might be trying to be someone new, re-inventing herself. Hey, the guys just got here. Don’t have too much fun!” With that, my phone goes black, and I roll my eyes. I smooth out my hair one last time and smell my breath before going into the restaurant.

As I walk in I see the hostess playing a game on her phone, so I look around for Heather and immediately see her sitting in the terrace area. I waved at her and gestured to the hostess, who had finally looked up, that I was headed outside. She nodded her head and gave me a menu. Once I walked back outside to the terrace, I noticed that Heather was actually sitting in the exact spot that I always sit at when I come here by myself.

“I thought this would be a good place to sit at. Perfect for our first date, don’t you think?” I simply just nod and sit down.

The waiter comes out and instantly recognizes me, “I assume the usual, sir?” As if I was going to order anything else.

“Yes, please! Thank you.” I hand him my menu, and then he looks at my date.

“And for you, young lady?” I look at Heather, and it doesn’t even look like she has looked at her menu.

I quietly whisper to her, “It’s okay if you need more time.” She smiles and shakes her head.

“No, I am ready. I will have the rye turkey sandwich with mustard instead of mayonnaise. The pickles and tomato slices on the side. And for my drink I would like a chocolate milkshake.” The waiter looks at me with what I assume is the same look of confusion that I must have, seeing how that is exactly what and how I order my meal. Then she continues, “Actually, I would like to modify that milkshake. I would like two shots of espresso, chocolate chips, whipped cream, and two cherries please.” Then the waiter smiles and looks at me as if I was a master-mind.

“Really cute you two, but you could have saved me some time by just asking for double. Your milkshakes will be out soon.” Then he walks off, as I continue to sit in confusion.

I look over at Heather, and she is looking up at the night sky. “How do you know what I order here?”

She smiles and doesn’t answer my question.

I ask again, “How do you know what I order here, Heather? I always come here by myself. So how do you know?”

Again, she does not answer my question. She slowly looks at me and says, “You know, I love watching things, watching people. I even like counting the stars.”

I am completely dumbfounded at this. “It’s pointless to count stars.”

She quickly looks at me with a serious expression. “It’s also pointless to count freckles, but I know you have 24 on the edge of your right hand."

Thinking she is just messing with me, I scoff. “Good one, Heather.” She laughs and looks back up at the stars, staring at them a little too intently.

Thinking nothing of it, I casually look at my right hand and somehow end up counting the freckles I have never counted before. . .

22...

23...

24.

I freeze. I look over my hand as if it is hiding more freckles from me. It feels like someone turned on the A/C outside because my body is littered with goosebumps.

I look at Heather again, and see her staring straight at me.

“I told you.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let us know in the comments who won this time! We appreciate those of you who have supported us thus far, and we hope to see more of you within the coming weeks. Stay safe! Don’t die! And make sure you know how many freckles you have!

-Tay ❤

-Kat 🌑

1 note · View note