#The beach and looking for seaglass

[emwheezie]

reblog this with things and imagery that frequently show up in your dreams in the tags 💤

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 14: feed me poison, fill me 'til i drown

Water Inhalation

2493 Words; Pearl & Seaglass AU

TW for drowning

AO3 ver

Raz swam down into the trench. Seemingly endless tunnels dotted the bottom, a deep and endless cave network that could swallow him whole if he got lost.

Raz was here on a mission, though, so he wasn’t going to get lost. Not without a fight.

He swam around the bottom for a bit, searching for a particular cave. He had no idea which one it was—but he was certain that he’d know it when he saw it.

No skulls loomed at him out of the darkness, though. No shiny white bones or carved slabs reading GET OUT. There wasn’t even a ball of sealight to mark one of the caves out from the others.

Just kelp. Lots and lots of kelp, all scattered around and rotting, even though it didn’t even grow here—

Wait.

Raz swam over to a particularly long strand of kelp, knots of varying sizes dotting its length. He couldn’t see where it was tied off—it stretched down into the gloom of the cave mouth it was near. And now that Raz was looking, this particular mouth was absolutely surrounded by kelp strips, all knotted in strange and incomprehensible ways…

“Oh!” His stripes lit up the gloom—Raz glanced around nervously. Nothing came out of the dark to grab him, but he’d have to remember not to talk down here.

Steeling his scales, Raz gathered up every inch of courage he had, and dove in.

+=+=+=+=+

Raz wasn’t sure how long he’d been wandering through these tunnels. A while, for sure. But he kept swimming down twisty tunnels, flashing a stripe every so often in order to keep track of the kelp strands. He should have brought some sealight. His eyes were good in the depths, but these caves had no light at all—only what Raz could provide by flashing his stripes incoherently.

Eventually, though, Raz noticed slivers of light floating up from one of the tunnels. Carefully, slowly, he swam towards the source, hoping it wasn’t some giant mutant anglerfish that lived in caves and ate mer.

Raz peered around the edge of the rock—

Sealight dotted the cavern at distant intervals along a net strung up across it, doing little against the gloom. Yet still, Raz could see that shelves had been carved into the rock, with weird-looking things in glass jars. Ingredients, he presumed. And there, in the center of it all, grabbing a crab from an old trap full of them, was the Sea Witch.

Raz had only seen her once, before, and that was from a distance. He had been following Dion, then, based on Frazie’s hints that his older brother would know where to find a Sea Witch.

Somehow, she looked a lot less deadly up close, sinuous tentacles working around her. Even as she turned to a cauldron—and wow, a human cauldron, Raz had been looking for one of those for his collection for forever—with a crab in one tentacle, there was another pair working a piece of kelp, a third grasping a jar, and the other four were working across the cavern floor, maneuvering her around with little effort. Her hands were occupied with a shell she was holding, claws tracing the edges of its layers.

Raz leaned out a little further. “Did Dion get those for you?” Crabs didn’t seem to be in high supply, down in the trench. Urchins, sure, but Raz hadn’t seen any crabs.

The Sea Witch startled, turning luminous yellow-brown eyes onto Raz. Instead of the sharp beak Raz expected, she had a full row of sharp teeth—moray? They weren’t uniform enough to be a shark’s. She even had facial fins—definitely not all octopus, then.

“Who—” Her stripes flashed a vibrant orange, lighting up dark violet scales.

Raz swam out a little further. “Dion’s my older brother.” He explained, curling his tail inwards in greeting.

All at once, the Sea Witch relaxed. “You must be Queepie then…” She tilted her head, “No—Pooter.”

Raz nodded. “I know, it must be so amazing, finally meeting me.” Raz shrugged his pelvic fins. “But I actually came here with a request.”

“No.” The Sea Witch dunked the crab she was holding into the cauldron. She unscrewed the jar and put whatever was in it into the cauldron, and magic shimmered across the opening. Raz couldn’t see what was happening in there, but she probably knew what she was doing.

“You didn’t even let me ask!” Raz swam further in, stripes flashing angrily. “You can’t just say ‘no’ when you don’t even know what it is!” He’d even brought some of his most valuable items from his collection in his bag, to make sure he could pay for the good stuff.

“I can see your heart’s desires.” The Sea Witch waved a tentacle dismissively, watching the steady shimmer of her cauldron. “I’m not turning you human.” Slowly, the shimmer faded, and she reached a hand in to grab the crab. The scent of boiled crab and saltback roe filled the cavern as she used the seashell to crack the crab shell open.

“But you can,” Raz confirmed. He closed his mouth, covering his teeth. “Pleeeeeeeease?”

“Absolutely not.” The Sea Witch sounded appalled at the very notion. “Your brother would kill me.”

“You don’t wanna stomp on my dreams, do you?” Raz held his fins flat and angled his face upwards a little, a pleading look in his eyes.

The Sea Witch huffed, “Sorry, kid, but it’s not happening.” The glow of her stripes wasn’t apologetic in the least.

Raz crossed his arms. “Well, if stomping dreams is what we’re doing, then I guess I’ll just have to stomp on your dreams of ever seeing my brother again.” He began to swim towards the cave entrance—

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute.” A tentacle grabbed Raz by the tail and yanked him back into the cave. He turned to face the Sea Witch with a toothy grin, his facial fins flared. “Are you blackmailing me?” Incredulity leeched off of her in steady waves, but her facial fins were just as flared as Raz’ were.

“That depends,” Raz flitted his tail. “Is it working?”

She stared at him for a long moment. Her tentacles lashed in place, little eddies forming on the cave floor.

Raz pressed his hands together, and flared his fins a little wider. “I mean, it really would be such a shame if our parents found out that their son was dating the Sea Witch.” Like he’d ever tell them—if his mother found out that Raz had even thought about coming out here, she’d have his head. But he needed that potion, dammit, and Dion’s secret romance with the Sea Witch was the perfect bargaining chip.

“Alright, fine.” The Sea Witch shoved him away, turning towards the shelves she had carved into the cave walls. “Grab whatever you think you’ll need and meet me at the eastern shipwrecks by high moon.”

Raz swam a quick circle. “Yes!” Finally! He swam out of the cavern on a rush of elation, not even caring if he got lost on the way out. He was going to become human!

+=+=+=+=+

Raz darted between old shipwrecks in the gloom, the moonlight unable to reach so deep.

Sneaking out had been hard, but not impossible. His facial fins twitched under his helmet, but he ignored the discomfort—he was about to delve into a world of unknowns, so he needed his helmet! Any good explorer would have one!

Checking that he still had everything in his bag, Raz swam towards the wreck that he was sure was the easternmost one. He passed a shark, and paid it little mind—even at his age, he was more than a match for it. Sharks only messed with mer if they were desperate.

The Sea Witch was already there, sorting through a satchel of her own. Hers was even wrapped in netting, with little shells tied to the threads.

Little shells of a very particular shade of blue…

“What’s your name anyway?” Raz asked. “It can’t be Sea Witch.”

“Gisu.” The Sea Witch—Gisu—replied. She finished sorting through her things, and turned to face westward. “It’s a long swim.” She cautioned. “If you’re having any doubts, turn back now.”

Raz curled his hands into fists. “I’m ready! Lead the way!”

Gisu regarded him for a long moment, then launched off of the deck. “Just don’t get lost.”

Raz hastened to follow, his tail pumping to keep up with her siphon bursts.

+=+=+=+=+

Gisu hadn’t been lying. They’d been swimming for a while, now, closer and closer to the surface as they went. By the time they stopped, the moonlight was already fading, the shallows beginning to feel the very beginnings of sunlight.

Gisu swam upwards, and Raz followed, his head breaching the surface. Unlike Gisu, who was blinking in the air, Raz’s goggles kept water against his eyes, allowing him to see the slowly lightening sky clearly.

He looked around, unsure what exactly he was looking for—

Raz let out a surprised whistle.

Land!

Actual dry land! That stood above the water! Raz had only ever heard of it!

They were kinda close—closer than Raz expected, honestly. He could make out ships at the shore, and even the boxy shapes of human dwellings.

Raz was so lost in his staring that he missed Gisu diving back down—she yanked him down by the tail with one of her tentacles, making his stripes flash in alarm.

“C’mon.” She urged, letting go. “Not much further.”

Raz nodded. He was really tired, swimming the whole night through, but excitement buzzed in his veins. He followed Gisu along, watching as the seafloor rose up below them, closer and closer without them needing to go deeper—

Gisu stopped. Raz bounced off of her, shaking his head reflexively at the impact.

“Right.” Gisu said, pulling out a jar. “Eat this and say the incantation thrice: ‘Shed my scales and cut out my gills, to land I go to escape my ills.’ Think you can remember that?”

Raz reached for the jar. “Of course! C’mon, I’m so excited!” He was so close. He was so agonizingly close that he felt he might burst if he didn’t become human right now. “Shed my scales and cut out my gills, to land I go to escape my ills!” He repeated.

“Alright.” Gisu handed over the jar. Raz wasted no time in unscrewing the cap. “Before you go, there are some things about humans you might want to know. I’ll be coming with you, but it’ll be good to know the basics before—”

Too late. Raz was already eating the contents—he could taste some kind of roe, but he couldn’t identify the rest of it. It kind of reminded him of seal—something mammalian, then? Whatever it was, it was delicious.

Gisu watched as Raz finished off the contents of the jar. “You weren’t supposed to eat all of it…” She mumbled.

Raz froze. “I’m not going to die, am I?” That’d be a stupid way to go.

Gisu clicked, taking back the jar. “No, but the spell will hold for a lot longer. There was enough in there for seven days. Don’t die while I’m gone.” She mumbled something about hard-to-get ingredients and swam off into the depths, but Raz was already pressing his hands together.

“Shed my scales and cut out my gills,” He started, “to land I go to escape my ills!” Warmth exploded in Raz’ chest. “Shed my scales and cut out my gills, to land I go to escape my ills!” The water around him began to bubble, the warmth in his chest spreading out into his arms and tail—

“Shed my scales and cut out my ills, to land I go to escape my ills!”

Raz tumbled tail over head as the magic washed over him, hundreds of tiny bubbles surrounding him as he changed. His scales disappeared with an itchy feeling, his facial fins melting into a shell-shape under his helmet.

Wow, okay, that’s a lot more comfortable. Of course it was more comfortable—his helmet had been made for human use.

There was a kind of distant shlurp sensation as his tail shrunk back into his body, shedding scales that glowed in the water around him before melting away. Raz imagined that it must hurt, the shifting of his bones—but he didn’t feel any pain at all. Just the warm bubbly feeling of Gisu’s magic crawling all over him. His dorsal fin melted down into his back, the webbing between his claws receded, his gills squeezed shut—

His pelvic fins flared out to his sides, fluttering rapidly. A new sensation emerged, stretching out into the water. Raz stared as his emerging legs—legs! He had legs!—grew flat protrusions at the end, as five wriggling toes sprouted from the ends of his new feet.

His neck squeezed, a little, his cervical gill covers melting over the gills underneath. The water was suddenly so much darker. Were human eyes this bad?

Raz opened his new mouth with a gasp—

Water rushed in, and instead of flowing out through his gills it kept going down. Raz choked, flailing in panic. How did he forget that humans breathed air?

Surface. He needed to surface!

His sense of up and down had disappeared, replaced with a growing sense of panic as he flailed unfamiliar human limbs. He needed to surface!

“Hel—arglubblgbg.” Okay, wow. He’d read that humans communicated entirely through sound, but that was weird—Raz flailed, choking on even more water. Not having stripes to flash meant he couldn’t say a thing until he managed to surface—

Raz hit the seafloor, the sand squishy against his back. His human back, scale- and finless—

I’m not going to be human long if I don’t make it to dry land!

Raz planted his hands on the sand and pushed. He launched upwards, feeling the pull of a wave—

Air!

Raz flopped onto damp sand, his body convulsing as his lungs tried to eject the water in them. He coughed, the feeling unlike anything he’d ever felt before—and absolutely awful. No wonder humans didn’t like swimming.

By the time he finished hacking, his throat was raw, the feeling of something still stuck in it lingering. But no amount of coughing would erase that feeling, so Raz settled on breathing deeply while waiting for it to leave.

Raz let himself fall back onto the sand, staring up at the sky through his goggles. The sun had crested the horizon, the last of the darkness lingering at the very west edge in a tiny sliver.

Raz had never imagined that sunlight could be so warm. His bag was cold beside him, even though he was just as soaked as it was.

Exhausted, and with the waves tickling his feet, Raz let his eyes close.

Seven days. He had seven days before he turned back. Seven whole days of exploring. Seven whole days that started now.

He could afford a little nap, first.

[fire-lizard-ro]

More Sunday headcanons:

-His wings flutter sometimes like a bird adjusting its wings

-And sometimes they flutter because he’s happy

-Does the “Guess who?” with you, but you always know who it is because he uses his wings to cover your eyes, chin atop your head.

-This man can purr and coo I don’t make the rules (yes I do- And thank you @pix3lplays for the purring idea your brain is so big-)

-He molts, so his head and wings get very itchy and a bit tender for a bit while shedding his feathers and growing in new ones.

-Help him oil his feathers and preen his wings he loves feeling your fingers gentle running over his wing through the feathers-

-The scritchesssssss-

-Leans into your hand and sometimes falls asleep while you tend to him.

-Please give this boy a smooch on the forehead before taking him to bed or just letting him rest against you.

-Let the man eep.

-Probably likes quality time but is busy a lot, so he tries to spend as much time as possible with you and make up for lost time in other ways.

-HE!!! BRINGS YOU!!! SHINIES!!!

-Pretty necklace he saw that would look good on you or reminded him of you? Brings it.

-You go to the beach (does Penacony have one…?) and he sees seaglass and shells? You are now in possession of seaglass and shells.

-Pretty bracelet with mini stones on it? It’s on your wrist the next day.

-(Probably also has a drawer of shinies- Some of which he decided not to gift you because while it appeals to his instincts, he knows it’s not a typical thing to gift someone. Like shiny, interesting coins and whatnot.)

-(If you ever find this out and tell him you’d like anything he would give you, even odd coins, his heart will melt and he’ll hug you while cuddling into your neck with fluttering wings and purrs and coos.)

[redheadspark]

Azriel chooses Elian over his mate and realizes the mistake he made when he sees her happy with someone else

*cough* Tarquin *cough*

He doesn’t get enough love.

A/N - AHHH! THE ANGST! I hope you like it, it was quite fun to write!

No More

Summary - You were Azriel's biggest regret, and he'll live with it for the rest of his life

Warnings - ANGST ANGST ANGST!

Azriel did not want to be here.

He was standing behind Rhysand and Feyre as they were walking to Tarquin in his study, going over the alliance documents and brushing up on new meetings that were going to be held that year.  The cool ocean breeze was coming through the open windows that were also showing the sunshine twinkling off the ocean water.  Azriel was only half paying attention as he was near the door, his mind was somewhere else.  Usually, he would be listening to every word to debrief with Rhysand when they would all return to Velaris, but this time it wasn't going to happen.

Not when he knew who was there in Summer Court.

"Azriel, why don't you go take a walk and get some air," 

Azriel snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at Feyre, seeing her watch him as she was turned into her chair.  Her Summer Court colors shined in the sunlight that poured in the room, loose along her skin and her hair up in a delicate braided crown with her tiara perched along the top, He was about to deny the request when Tarquin spoke up.

"The private beach is open for any visitors of Summer Court, It's quite enjoyable this year and you can visit the ground if you wish," He suggested to Azriel, folding his hands on the top of the desk and giving Azriel a kind and neutral smile.  Azriel felt his stomach turn, not wishing to seem rude to the High Lord in his very own Court but also not wishing to be passive about it.  Rhysnad was now the one to look at his friend, His purple eyes gazing at Azriel and giving him a silent command with a gentle yet stern gaze.

Go.  Take a breather.

"Thank you, my Lord," Azriel replied to Tarquin with a slight bow.  He saw Feyre out of the corner of his eye giving him a worried look.  But Azriel only gave her a small smile, hoping to give her some reassurance that he would be fine.  He had to be fine, he was the Spymaster of Velaris and Night Court, one of the most intimidating beings that have ever been and knew how to kill so easily and quickly. 

But no, he wasn't fine.  He was a coward.

Walking out of the room and closing the door gently behind himself, he drank in the silence and the deserted hallways of the Adriata Palace.  The tan walls and seaglass chandeliers, seafood colors doors, and flowing fresh water riverbanks along the wide, opening to the vast open sea that showed the busy bay over to the left.  Yet right outside of the large sea form colored doors, there was a small stairway engraved into the cliff rock and sand that led to the private beach for only the High Lord and his Court to enjoy.  Azriel, thinking it was a better idea to clear his head outside the palace, went outside to breathe in the deep ocean air and feel the summer heat along his skin.  Of course, his leathers were a bit too constricting thanks to the heat, but it was not unbearable while he descended the stairs and touched down on the pristine sand.  

It was calmer there amongst the waves than it was in the Palace, at least to Azriel it was.  He had no real problem with Summer Court, up until recently as it was.  It wasn't the High Lord or his dealings that was an issue Tarquin was a great leader and was making Summer Court thrive once again since the Battle of Hybern ensued.  Something else was simmering under the waves there on the back, under Azriel's skin as he was watching the waves and their smooth rolling motion as he was replaying all that happened within the last few months within his mind.  

These last several months were hell for him. 

Movement was seen over to the right along the shoreline, tucked behind a cluster of boulders that were nestled in the deep sand.  Azriel saw a flicker of movement, his eyes ever trained in things that were moving around him, so he knew that he wasn't alone out there on the private beach.  Taking the quiet stealth steps, he walked forward a bit more to get a better view of who it may be, then heard over the rolling waves that were crashing along the shoreline singing.  Mostly humming, but he knew that voice and that tone very well.  It was both thrilling and heartbreaking at the same time.

There you were, perched on top of a boulder in a light blue summer dress reading a book, your light hair flowing into e wind behind you with some braids that had pearls interwoven amongst the hair, and a tiara decorated in both pearl and aquamarine gemstone in your hair.

Azriel felt like he was seeing a ghost, someone who had been haunting his dreams for the last several months and was now in front of him once again to trick his mind and make him believe that all that occurred never did.  He remembered the day you walked out of his life very clearly, and how he knew it was all his doing.  The days following after were miserable and near torture, which was saying something since he knew how to inflict torture.  But the torture he put you through was devastating and something he regretted, inwardly and slowly it ate him up and never gave him rest of peace.  

But you were happy here, which was worse for him.

Where you once sported the colors of Night Court, you changed from black and deep purple to blues and pearls.  You walked away from your business in Velaris when you left, giving the business over to Nesta since she was your best friend and confidant for she could keep it running and thriving, finding a small little cottage in Summer Court to hide away in and restarting your life in.  That was what Azriel heard, and a few months later you were being courted by Tarquin, the High Lord himself, which was another dagger to Azriel's chest when Rhysand broke the news to the Spymaster

"She's happy.  That's all that matters."

"Az—"

"I know what I did was wrong, and I have to live with it, Rhsyand.  What's done is done,"

"You know, it's okay to have feelings about this, you know,"

One stupid mistake, and Azriel has made mistakes before and has had regrets that he wishes he could change.  But those mistakes and regrets seemed like nothing, mere childish things in the one mistake he made with you as he sealed your fates once and for all.  

Azriel rejected your bond, thinking his heart belonged to sweet and gentle Elaine.  Of course, instantly he felt the bond break into a thousand pieces between the pair of you, not to mention the look on your face as you walked away from him briskly with tears in your eyes and your own heart shattering from the rejection.  Nightmares came soon after, backtracking in his mind if what he did was right or what he did was meant to be. 

The fateful morning you left Night Court, leaving behind a detailed document on the desk of High Lord Rhysand at his River House as you told him what you wished to do.  Azriel was not there for the meeting, but Rhsyand told him enough when he was summoned to meet with the High Lord in his home.

"She wished for a clean break, which I granted her," Rhsyand explained while Azriel was scanning over the document you left behind.  His heart was beating out of his eyes, eyes scanning the words rapidly as his brain was trying to catch up to the news that broke, "I told her we'll provide her with some funds for her travels, and I asked High Lord Tarquin to keep an eye on her as she makes roots in Summer Court."

Azriel never knew the true feeling of heartbreak, apart from the loss of his mother.  He felt it, knowing you were out of his life.

"Azriel?"

He saw you now watching him, the book closed in your hands as you were staring at him with no sense of urgency or hate, but of simple curiosity and almost neutral kindness. You did smile, but it was not the same smile you would show him in the past when you two were friends and getting to know one another years ago.  This one was smaller, almost civil, and Azriel wouldn't expect anything more.  Not from how he ended it with you two.  He cleared his throat, giving you a slight bow as you were still gazing at home.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," He replied in a gentle tone, averting his gaze for a long moment before he looked at you again.  You barely changed, though your skin was now being touched by the sun and was giving a tanned glow to highlight your features and brighten your eyes.  Even the sunshine kissed your hair to give it new depth, making you look more radiant to him.

"You're not," you replied gently, your tone showed no once of callace or bitterness as you gestured with a finger up in the direction of the palace, "I forgot Night Court was coming for a meeting today.  I hope it's going well for the High Lord and Lady,"

"It's almost done," Azriel explained, you giving a small smile as you nodded, "Though I know High Lord Rhysand and High Lady Feyre were looking forward to seeing you—"

"Out of my own courtesy and comfort, I felt it was not my place to be there to see them." You gently interrupted him, seeing Azriel instantly snap his mouth shut as you fiddled with the spine of your book, "They are kind to think of me, but it's far too soon to be in their company again,"

Ah, that made sense in his mind.

"Understandable," Azriel agreed, holding his hands behind himself as he shuffled a bit on his feet.

"And I also knew you would come, and I didn't wish to be in your company, given our history," You admitted to him a bit sheepishly as Azriel paused and took in a long breath.  Did he expect you to lie about it?  You would be bitter to him and rightfully so, Azriel expected that from all he did to you and his own rejection of the potential mating bond.  Yet seeing you there, sporting the colors of Summer Court, clearly happy and satisfied with the life that you made here, made him hate himself all the more.  The tender heartache and wound he got over his own heart and ego felt exposed again.  Yet deep down he knew that your heartbreak and wound were massive and far more tender thanks to him.

He was reaping what he sowed.

"I should get back to the Palace," You mumbled, gripping the book in hand and was about to hop off the boulder, "I have a few appointments to get to today,"

Azriel was about to hold out his hand to aid you down from the boulder, but you moved a bit faster and eased off the boulder with both swiftness and agility.  Your dress flowed down to touch the bottom of the and, showing your curves in both a modest and alluring manner, Azriel's eyes couldn't help but do one look over as you walked past him and was about to ascend the stairs, out of his life again.  Azriel knew he had to tell you what was feasting in his heart, ever since the day you left Velars and left the Inner Circle behind he knew what he needed to say to you.  Yet it was now or never.

"I'm sorry," He said, you pausing at the top of the stairs and still facing away from him as he clenched his scarred hands together, "What I did to you, to us, was a mistake.  A mistake I have lived with for the last months and I wish I could take it back.  In all my years in Night Court, I have lived with the mistakes I have made and moved on from them.  But what I did to you is the one that I can never get past, because what I felt for you was real."

He felt so exposed at that moment on that beach, pouring out his heart for you and leaving nothing behind.  But he had to, there might not be a moment to tell her all that he needed to to somewhat fix what he solely broke and damaged.

"I had no right to do what I did to you," Azriel kept explaining as you remained like a statue on the stairwell, "You deserved more than that, much more than I thought of you so highly.  And…and I still do.  There is nothing I can do to fix what I did—"

"How's Elaine?" You said, Azriel's once again going quiet within a millisecond as you turned your heart slightly to him to hear his answer.  

Azriel knew right then and there when you said those two words, you weren't going to forgive him.  He was going to lose his battle as he sighed and looked down at his feet.  Even his wings sagged in defeat.

"She…she's well," He replied, you humming and nodding once, "She and Lucien are a good pair together and are in talks of being married in a few months."

You turned around to face him, not to look shocked or perplexed from the news, but simply drinking in what he said.  Yet he saw the look in your eyes as you were watching him, the look of uneasiness and a hint of sadness.

"They're together?" You asked, your voice sounding almost light and forced.  Azriel took in another breath, knowing this was all going to be exposed sooner or later.

"They're mates, and they made it official last week," 

Being with Elaine for those few months was great, Azriel was not going to deny that part at all.  He enjoyed her company and her beauty, thinking he found his better half with her as he started to court her.  She was all that anyone would want in a partner: kind-hearted, sweet in her gentle nature, a rare beauty and had a massive soul to match.  Azriel had no issue with being with her, and maybe he thought he made the right choice in choosing Elaine. Although they were not mates, it still felt real to him.

But the very moment Elaine confessed to him that Lucien was her mate, Azriel had no choice but to let her go to Lucien since he knew it would mean death if he chose to go against it.  Maybe it was karma that got to him, seeing Elaine and Lucian come together naturally and organically since their mating bond was strong and consistent, but Azriel couldn't do a thing to stop it.  Not just because of the laws of Mates, but even his High Lord Rhysand told him not to interfere and let it happen.  

"You and I know the protocol far too well, Azriel.  I can't let you do anything about it, and even if you try, it won't work in your favor,"

"I'm sorry it didn't work out for you," You replied to him calmly as you finally turned around and faded him, still on the last stair steps and clutching your book tightly in your fingers.  Azriel was waiting for you to scowl at him, or maybe smirk as if you were about to say, "Did you learn your lesson?"  But no, you were still giving yourself a unique kind of gaze and saying nothing for a solid moment or two.

"I wish for us to be civil," Azriel explained to you as you cocked your head at him.

"We'll always be civli, for the sake of Summer and Night Court," You countered back gently, yet he gave you an unconvincing look.

"You know what I mean," He tried, but you shook your head at him and took in a sharp inhale.

"We cannot be civil, you and I. You know why," You stated to him as he was still watching you with any hint of hope slipping away, "Az….you rejected me."

"I know I did—"

"You rejected me, our bond and the last thing I can do in this very moment is go back and relive that pain," You went on, Azriel feeling the wrath go under his skin and wrap around his bones so severely that it was almost like an ache, "Did you expect me to let things go back to what they were between us?"

"No.  No, I supposed I can't," He mumbled, feeling shameful as he looked down again.  He was reaching for some kind of medium, he knew it was a reach, but of course, a reach could go so far before someone would fall and be burned in the end.  First, it was you with him turning his back on you, and now it was your turn to feel that burn of rejection and defeat.

"As much as I wish to wonder why things happened the way they did, it's no good for me to dwell on the past," You explained, seeing him look up at you again as you were staring him down, "I am happy in this life I have.  This Court has been amazing to me, and I have good company to bring me peace and happiness.  Tarquin has been good to me, and I am happy with him, Azriel."

Azriel knew you weren't saying it to be spiteful against him or to rub it in his face, you were far better than that. You were simply telling him how you are happy with someone else, someone who was taking good care of you and making you feel beyond loved and adored.  Azriel couldn't help but picture you and Tarquin together, Tarquin making you laugh during your talking, bringing you flowers and gifts to show his love for you, even walking with you in public and not being ashamed to have you on his arm. You two must know each other inside and out, as two being in love should. Inwardly, Azriel wished he had that with you, wanting to do all of those things to you and with you.  

But he lost his chance, and now he had to watch you be happy with another who loved you wholeheartedly.

"As I said before, we are going to be civil for the sake of Night Court and Summer Court, but nothing past that," you explained to him, seeing him try to contain the pain he was feeling and experiencing with your words, "I wish no ill intent with you and your life, but I don't want any part of it from here on out, Azriel.  Our lives are no longer intertwined, and they never will be,"

Before Azriel could say anything else, anything that could save this conversation from going down in flames as it always is, footsteps are heard coming down the same stairs as a voice breaks the tension between you and Azriel.

"Ah!  I thought you wandered down here, my love!"

Both you and Azriel looked to see Tarquin, Rhysand, and Feyre making their way down the steps.  You moved down to the sand again, just in time for Tarquin to sweep you in his arms and kiss your cheeks lovingly in front of your guests.  You blushed from the gesture, seeing Azriel look away for a split moment as Tarquin pulled away from you with a soft smile, "I was hoping to find you here.  Are you well?"

"Very well, my dear,” You hummed, seeing him smile widely as you saw Rhysand and Feyre look at you with fondness in their eyes, "High Lord Rhsyand, High Lady Feyre, it's good to see you two again."

Rhysand kissed your hand as Feyre gave you a small hug,  Azriel was staying quiet, not wishing to say anything else in that moment.  But Rhysand could see it on his face as Feyre and you were catching up, something was said between the pair of you that was not positive.  

"Well, since we are all here and I wish not to forgo the news any longer," Tarquin said amongst the group, he then looked over at you with love in his bright eyes, “It’s been unbearable to not tell anyone outside my family.  May I break the news to them?  Only with your permission, of course,"

Azriel's eyes went to you through the small group, seeing you grin widely at Tarquin and you nodded your head.  Tarquin smiled widely, almost too giddy himself as he looked at the visitors from High Court.

"We are officially engaged," Tarquin proclaimed.

That was the last blow to Azriel's chest.

Nothing else was set inside of him as the others were giving their congratulations to you and your fiancé, Azriel could feel himself inward spiraling with no signs of slowing down or stopping.  Deep down, he felt as though he could change the course that he made, knowing he was the one who forged this new path because of his rejection.  Yet again, Azriel realized that there was nothing he could do to change what he did.  That path he carved was now permanent, no amount of graveling or pleading would bring you back to what you two once again.  

"This is wonderful news!  We should celebrate," Rhysand said lightly to you and Tarquin, "Let Feyre and I take you two to dinner when you come to Night Court next week, it's the least we can do to contribute to this news."

"That's very kind of you, and we will take you up on that offer," You replied kindly to him, seeing him give you a genuine smile.  But maybe you saw the pinch of hurt in his purple orbs, maybe for Azriel or the last you two were no longer close.  Nonetheless, he hid it with his smile.

"Let's go back to our parlor and have some drinks in celebration!" Tarquin said to the group, taking your hand in his and giving you up the stairs back to the palace.  Rhysand took Feyre's arm in his own, pausing as they both looked over at Azriel to see his reaction.  Yet once they saw his face, how he was hiding so much within himself. They both knew that this was personal and hard for the Spymaster to drink in and endure.  Azriel was never once to show his emotions on his sleeve, he was more stone cold in the face and his personal life.  

Not anymore. He was about to break.

"Az," Feyre said his name softly, almost afraid of spooking him, "Are you—"

"With your permission, I'm going to go back to Velaris and get back to my Spymaster duties," Azriel interrupted immediately, both Feyre and Rhysand looked at him in shock as he was clutching his hands too tight and his wings were ridged against his back while his eyes were trained on the ocean waves, not showing the fact that he wished to shed tears.

"Azriel.." Rhysand said his name softly, sounding just as heartbroken as Azriel was.

"If you don't have anything else for me here, I want to go back to Velaris," Azriel said again, his voice was close to being bitter and cruel.  Rhysand inhaled sharply, knowing deep down that he was hurting and the last thing he wanted to do was push his friend and brother even more.  

"We'll see you back at the House of Wind tonight, then," Feyre replied softly and carefully,  Before either one of them could utter another syllable, Azriel's shadows took over and swallowed him whole, whisking him away from the beach he was on.  The silence was there on the beach as the last of the shadows now evaporated in the air.

As Rhsyand and Feyre reluctantly went back to the palace, giving an excuse for Azriel to go back to Velaris.  Of course you did fee a bit bad that he found out this way, but you were far too happy to let it dread as Tarquin poured out some of his best white wine.  You were happy in this life, the past was behind you and you had your future to look towards. 

Azriel, on the other hand, grabbed some whiskey from the House and Wind and drank himself to tears and rage.  He was feeling that rejection all over again, this time you were the one rejecting him and telling him that you fates who no longer intertwined.  After the bottle became empty, he threw the bottle out into the void and scream out the pain he nestled deep inside of them.  

The roar was loud enough to be heard in all of Velaris, some of the mountains even sook from the insane sound that came from him.  

He would regret turning you away all over again, and as the sun went down on Velaris, his own heart was settling on what he thought he wanted.  His love for you could no longer be evident, and he knew deep down he would have to live with that for the rest of his life.

The End

Tagged - @ethereal-athalia @valeridarkness

[undercoveravenger]

Rising Tides

Pairing: Siren!Finnick Odair x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “Siren finnick odair trying to enchant the reader with his song and beautiful muscles but can’t get it. Take the story whatever direction you want”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month! This is post #2 of my Spooky Month writing event - #3 will be launching on Tuesday, October 17th. Hope you enjoy!

-----

Throughout Finnick’s years he’d seen the other sirens of his pod pick off humans with ease, using their stunning looks and alluring voices to draw their prey below the inky waves of the sea. The human’s mistake dooming them to be torn apart by the pod, sirens ripping and tearing the human apart until the wisps of blood in the water is all that remains of them.

He’d doubted he would have any issues when his turn for the Hunt arose- he’d grown up knowing he was beautiful, with fins and scales the same cool seafoam color as his eyes and hair that shone almost golden. He had learned how to be charming, to play coy, and to use his looks to draw people in. He hadn’t learned how to deal with someone like you.

Finnick had known you would be his prey as soon as he saw you, a sharp pain seizing in his chest when he saw you walking along the seaside edge of your district, picking at bits of seaglass and shells absently as you meandered along the sand. He’d been transfixed by the way the sinking sun made your skin glow, the soft look in your eyes as you looked out over the waves reminding him a bit of himself and his family. 

He hadn’t been quick enough to sing for you that day, too distracted by you to remember how to string notes and words and melodies together before you wandered back up the beach and into town, but he had plenty of other chances. Apparently you were no stranger to the beach, making it a nightly habit to stroll down the sand, watching over the waves and examining the small treasures brought up by the current. Sometimes you were joined by one or two others, but Finnick could never really bring himself to pay them any mind, fixated on you the same way he always was.

He’d tried to sing for you on one of the evenings that you wandered the beach alone, voice echoing quietly over the low rush of the waves coming and going, smooth and soft and sultry just the way he’d been taught. Like he had expected, you perked up at the sound of his song, taking a thoughtless step closer to the waves lapping at the shore before seeming to snap yourself out of his spell, turning swiftly on your heel and making your way home with your hands clasped over your ears to block out his voice. For the first time, Finnick doubted himself. Was his voice not as alluring as he’d been told? What if you didn’t like his song? Was he not perfect enough to draw you in? Would his pod think him a failure?

His doubts gnawed at him further when you continued to flee from him when you heard his voice, and further still when he had laid himself out along a large rock protruding from the water so you could get a good look at the way the light gleamed off his muscles and still turned away from him.

He got lucky one day though, arriving at the shore just in time to see you set off in a small boat - something he’d heard you call a ‘kayak’- with several of your friends paddling off ahead of you in their own small crafts. He smiled a bit to himself as he heard a laugh escape you, slipping soundlessly back into the water and darting swiftly after you, tail propelling him effortlessly through the water in pursuit of his prey.

With your friends’ head start, it was pretty easy for him to separate you from them, waiting until they had rounded the edge of the bay before latching onto the small handle at the front of your kayak and tugging you further out to sea. You had scrambled to try to paddle back toward the bay and to your friends, but Finnick was stronger than you. He was faster. Built to cut through water without faltering. He was an apex predator.

Eventually Finnick deemed that he had you far enough from shore that you could no longer ignore him, releasing his hold on your tow line and moving to circle your boat, watching you curiously from just below the surface of the water. A laugh bubbled out of him at the way you twisted sharply in your boat to keep your eyes fixed on him and then having to scramble to right yourself when the sudden movement threatened to overbalance you.

He surfaced right beside the kayak, clawed hands gripping tight to the edge of the kayak, just beside your own. Finnick does his best not to put too much weight on the plastic vessel, knowing he could tip it easily and not wanting to scare you more than he already had. He wasn’t sure when his fixation on you had shifted from hunger to something so much softer but he didn’t want you to fear him. He didn’t want to hurt you, he just wanted- Well. 

He just wanted you.

He opens his mouth and for a moment he is torn between singing and speaking to you. There is a split second when he thinks about how easy it’d be to tip you out of the boat, to drag you beneath the waves and present you to his family like he was supposed to. He thinks about it for longer than he should’ve, but he knows he can’t. 

“Why do you keep running away?” He finally forces out, words twisted and strange on his tongue without the saccharine sweetness he’d been taught to use. “Why wouldn’t you look at me? Why did you leave when I called for you?”

You are visibly shocked by the way he looks at you and he knows it must seem strange, to see a predator like him begging at your side like a love-struck dolphin. 

“Because you’re going to kill me,” you say simply, edging back in your kayak despite there not being far to go. “I’ve heard the stories about your kind. If I got too close-”

Finnick’s brows furrow as he looks up at you, “Was.” he says, releasing your boat in favor of swimming slow circles around you. “Not anymore.” He tips his head back, studying the way the clouds drifted in front of the sun. 

“So you’re… not trying to kill me?” you ask cautiously, eyes not wavering from Finnick even as he started to preen at the attention.

Finnick laughs, tipping his head to look at you and flicking water at you with the fluke of his tail. “No, not anymore.” He dips under the water, reemerging on the other side of the kayak and propping his head up on the edge of it, studying you intently. “I should, if you listen to what my family says, but I don't want to. You’re… interesting." 

He can tell you're really not sure what to make of that, but his heart jumps in his chest at the hesitant smile you give him in return.

"Swim with me?" The words escape Finnick before he can catch them, coming out breathy and desperate in a way he'd never expected to find himself sounding. He rushes to continue before he can consider the weight of what he'd asked you to do, the way he might brush against you or his tail might curl around your legs and the way he might get a look at you in something less… covering… than your usual clothes if you agreed to swim with him. "Maybe not now," he amends, eyes dropping sharply to where one of his pointed claws taps out a rhythm on the thin plastic of the kayak. "You don't trust me yet and I don't blame you. But maybe meet me tomorrow? Give me a chance?"

Finnick could see the way you jerk up straighter in your seat and your grip on your paddle shifts as you pick up on the sound of your friends calling for you. He's not sure if your answer is just an attempt to shoo him off in time to get back to your friends or to keep them from seeing him or just something you said without thinking, but the second that yes escapes you he's pushing himself up out of the water to press a sea-salty kiss to your cheek and promising to meet you at the beach at sunset the next day. 

He dives then, submerging himself well below the waves and trailing slowly after you until he's sure you and your friends made it back to the beach and then watching for just a bit longer as you disappear out of view before beginning to meander back to the labyrinth of sea caves his pod calls home.

Sure, Finnick isn’t sure if you’ll actually show up, but for the first time in weeks, his confidence has been restored and his charm feels as secure as ever. He’s definitely going against his pod pursuing you like this, but with his luck rising with the tides, he can’t bring himself to care, not with someone like you at stake.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

how i like to describe luxiem's eyes

here's another warmup i did before requests that'll hopefully explain why i write the same description often. just what i always think of whenever i see them

tags: fluff, drabble, gender neutral reader

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 🖋 Ike Eveland

He holds a shattered bottle weathered through time, dulled underwater as sand scratches along the glass, the same color as his hair when the tide ebbs. Bottle-green returns to the sea, droplets along the frosted finish that sparkle like the ocean itself where the sun rises and sets. Seaglass produced from pressure only to become its own unique jewel among others.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦁 Luca Kaneshiro

His cologne is straightforwardly green, but the subtle lavender note is one you realize when he glances at you. Petals bounce through the way he can't hide anything whenever you meet his eye, hinted through with the blades of grass and pitch-purple veins through the flowers as they unravel in small buds.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦊 Mysta Rias

There is liveliness you can't begin to pin down, like cotton candy and parasols and painted beach houses all in a line. He's summer all in one. Sunlight peeks through rain clouds when he bristles, but strawberry fields flood his world when he squints, a smile like pearls under candy-blue raspberry.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino

His gaze is almost alien. When it gets dark it glows blacklight, illuminated by spirit, bright as the soul underneath. Gem tones and the fire between the facets glide through a purple so vast that he's a galaxy himself, planets woven between the fabric and the constellations across.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👹 Vox Akuma

Temptation lurks in those white gold eyes, but how could you resist? It's genuine, pale like jewelry and just as luxurious. Promises of sweetened honey draws you closer and the crisp chains of color lures you in. It's only when he becomes burning coal that you realize you're caught in his trap, and peachened rubies await as he looks down at you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[asteriski]

posting here to hold myself accountable: i am going to make it to the beach today to look for seaglass so i can finish making my candle holder

[angelbaby-fics]

Beach Day with Eddie

As soon as you had the means to, you and Eddie shot out of Hawkins like a flash and headed west

Eddie always knew he wanted to live in LA like all his favorite rockstars, and you were right by his side as always

In between recording sessions and shifts at his part time job to pay for said recording sessions, Eddie spent all his time with you, exploring the new city you lived in

On days when you were trying to save money and it was too hot to wander through parks, Eddie would take you to your favorite place in the world: the beach

You'd always adored trips to the beach, the magic of seeing the ocean expand across the horizon, feeling in touch with the earth while standing in the water

And Eddie was the absolute perfect companion for a beach day

No matter what mood you were in or how you were feeling, Eddie was always able to match that energy perfectly

On happy, energetic days, he would chase you across the sand, diving into oncoming waves with you, splashing each other and dissolving into giggles as his wet hair framed his face like a sea monster

Naturally, Eddie was a whiz at making sandcastles, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he mixed water and sand to the perfect consistency for a strong standing structure

He would teach you his techniques, drizzling wet sand over the castles and towers for a cool effect

And of course, Eddie is absolutely that guy to spend all day digging a massive trench and filling it with buckets of ocean water, just because

If you admired a family running through the sand with fancy kites in hand, he'd surprise you the next day with a pile of paper and strings, and you'd each build kites to race on the beach that afternoon

You'd hold hands and comb the shore for bits of seaglass or special looking shells, some of which he'd be able to repurpose for props in his DnD campaign

On more chill or even sad days when all you want to do is rest, Eddie would dig out a little nest in the sand for you, placing beach towels over it so you wouldn't get all sandy, and just spend all day holding you, whispering or singing, or just sitting in silence as the seagulls called and the waves crashed on the shore

It was always up to you, however, to remind Eddie to put on his sunscreen every time, or else you'd end up with a bright red metalhead the next day!

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector’s Edition: Curated melforbes

Ahhh, the beautifully atmospheric works of @melforbes. When I think of this writer's work, scent comes to my mind, first-- the clear, cold salt of a spring beach, the buzzed and antiseptic smell of the hospital, the bubbling richness of home-cooked meals, the fear-sweat of anticipation and domestic secrets-- followed swiftly by the innumerable fics about Mulder and Scully living something approaching a normal life. What's not to love?

Loose chronological order below~

@melforbes/@claup/everydaymsr (Ao3, WBM)

Christmas: A Symphony of Four Years

S1: ""I got you something,” he said as she donned her coat in the basement-office, as she wondered just how much snow was falling outside.""

Snow, Late February

Cancer Arc: ""Though he’d originally offered to sit with her during her chemotherapy, she’d deflected and asked him to drive her home instead; while she sat in that dreadful ward with all the other dreadful people undergoing the same dreadful treatment as she, she didn’t want him to see her lurch with nausea, didn’t want him to watch as she kept her eyes downcast and away from the women who were far deeper into treatment than she was. Then again, were any of these people worse off than she was?"" 

seaglass blue

Cancer Arc, AU: ""As they leave the church, their hands clasped in a bashful and half-hidden way, aimlessly thanking the overheard congratulations as they walk down the front steps, he asks her, So where to now? And she’s quiet as she slows her pace, and she brings their clasped hands behind themselves, as if hiding from herself, as if almost embarrassed, but when he looks into her eyes, he understands the embarrassment, the strange vulnerability of really caring about something, about someone. She looks at him wide-eyed and grows tense because she knows that he will give her whatever she asks for....

She doesn’t know where he’ll sleep tonight. They’ve kissed exactly once, and in a church no less. She could ask him to take her to the moon, and unfortunately, he would say, Well, I know a guy who….

“The ocean,” she manages, the parish behind her echoing with sentiments that don’t make any sense. This is the most chaste wedding they’ve ever seen, she thinks, then feels as if the exact opposite of that statement is true. “I’d like to go to the ocean.""

anesis

Post Redux II: ""the room was dark as she pulled “new skin for the old ceremony” off of the shelf, and in the kitchen, there was a plate of warm cookies waiting for them, maggie’s little way of convincing mulder that he was welcome here even if bill was still in town, still celebrating his sister’s miraculous recovery, and still questioning how exactly she could have been saved. with the sky turning to an evening red, she took the record out of the sleeve, her hands as graceful and steady as a surgeon’s, and when she brought it onto the aging record player, she seemed practiced in her motions until she set the needle down midway through the first song, skipping the introduction altogether.""

Oponthoud

S5?""He couldn't read the little guidebook to the Van Gogh museum because it was all in Dutch, so he followed her aimlessly through the exhibits. A museum of the world, not just of the country, he knew this was, but unfortunately, the art was wasted on him. Though she fit in here, a well-dressed woman in black pants and a cowl-neck sweater that made her look, in his opinion, like a casual supermodel, he was an outcast, a guy with holes in his coat who was tugged around by the prettiest girl in the room.""

Anonymous said: cold, ocean, phonebook

Drive: ""As dusk settled over the Californian sea beyond her, she flipped through a phonebook, thought of keywords for what she wanted: milkshakes, family-owned, titled as Chuck’s Place or Beverly’s Diner or even The Greasy Spoon. Biting her lip in concentration, she counted the waves beyond her little payphone, measured time with them as she looked over all of the listed restaurants from here to San Francisco. Loleta was an odd combination of seaside and rustic, rich and unpopulated; if she wanted a diner, she would have to drive, and after that day, she didn’t want to be stuck behind a wheel any longer than was absolutely necessary.""

in the woods

S7: ""he sets a steaming mug on the coffee-table beside her, the scent of hot chocolate curling her lips up. last night, he made them rib-eyes with spinach and mashed potatoes, used that ridiculously expensive grass-fed butter and everything; she picks up the mug, takes a creamy sip, and decides that she can summarize this weekend with the word rich.""

DC Cherry Blossoms

S7: ""it was late april in 1999 when padgett - or, rather, whoever was involved with padgett - tried to steal her heart, and as he remembers finding her covered in blood on the floor of his apartment, his heart speeds up anxiously; that night, she asked him to take her home, asked him to walk her up to her apartment, asked if he wouldn’t mind spending the night, so of course, he spent the night.... by six in the morning, she finally spoke.

“mulder?” he could remember her saying, his surname breaking the heavy silence in her home.

he hummed a response, faced her in bed.

“when do the botanical gardens open?""

What happens when mulder tries to wake Scully up? Or vice versa

S7: ""the last time one of these mornings occurred, she left the house in a pajama top by accident and had to drive back to change. after living with her for years, he’s developed a way to cope with mornings like this, so he stands up, sets her tea down on their bureau, and comes back over to the bed. 

“scully, you need to get up,” he says with just a hint of glee; this is his last warning.""

Hesitation

S9, AU: ""though he wants to call out in search of her, he stays quiet, leaves the paper on the kitchen table, heads upstairs to see if will’s asleep. along the upstairs hallway, she hung pictures of him and his sister together along with her family’s various christmas cards of yore; though he thought looking at photographs of the dead would bring a darkness he disliked into their home, he pauses at the pictures, smiles softly at how bright samantha’s eyes had been.""

Unnamed

S9, AU: ""Softly, he grips onto Will, stands up slowly in hope that their son will stay asleep in his arms. “When have we ever been cranky in the morning?”

At that, she gives him a look, but the smile he returns makes her soften. 

“He read the first two pages all by himself,” Mulder beams, walking toward the stairs while Will sleeps against his chest; she follows him closely, trying to keep her footsteps quiet."" 

taking a pregnancy test

Post S9: ""then, she leaves quickly, heads toward the gas station quick-mart in front of them. as she walks away, she tries and fails to keep her gait confident; though she wants him to think she's indifferent, the sheer possibility of this has tears stinging her eyes. the terrible beauty of a second chance makes her feel as though the world isn't so bad anymore, as though they could live in peace together for the rest of their lives. though she knows she should feel empty from all that has been taken from her, the idea alone makes her feel whole. despite how she wishes she didn't, she wants this so badly with him."" 

19 please :)

Pre-IWTB: ""i like it,” he says through a mouthful; she stares up at the ceiling, her eyes softly transfixed on how white and unmoving such a thing can be. while they travelled, she stole and read a copy of american gods, could remember how shadow kept seeing little things that made him remember he was no longer in prison; the house keys, the car she bought in her own name using her own bank card, being able to order a pizza over the phone, the heady silence only known as home, they all came back to her with a frightening familiarity...""

where i live, it's snowing

Pre-IWTB: ""he could at least do the housework, keeping the sheets soft and clean, passing her a fresh towel as she stepped out of a steaming bath, washing the dishes even though he sorely despised the chore. however, no matter how educated he could grow in the ways of living far away from other people, there were some things that required more than just a manual saw and a geezer. 

“don’t call yourself a geezer,” she’d said while they’d watched their neighbors, outfitted with a chainsaw and young men’s naive muscles, chop the fallen tree from an environmental disruption to easily-burned wood.""

in the heat

Pre-IWTB: ""she pretends to stare at her watch, as though she were actually counting the minutes before he came out of the water; taking up a spot by her hips, daggoo sits on her towel, anticipating everything in a mirror-image of mulder himself. finally, she looks away from her watch, sucks her lips in as she says, “time’s up.”

then, his smile grows wider as he reaches down, takes off her sunglasses and leaves them on the towel; in swift motions, he picks her up, then throws her over his shoulder, walks straight for the water. as he starts to wade in, she can’t stop laughing.""

at night

Pre-IWTB: ""around eleven-thirty, something stirs him from sleep; groggily, he looks around for a cause, sees scully sitting up in bed. if it's passed eleven and scully isn't asleep, then there's a definitive reason, so he slowly sits up and joins her.""

having lunch

Pre-IWTB: ""the first thing she finds is a little sticky note, i love you! written on it in mulder’s handwriting."" 

sunday, 3am

Pre-IWTB: ""It’s okay,” he whispered, the bag of ice in his hand hovering before her, his brain buzzing in the overtired way he used to feel accustomed to. If his circadian rhythms were reliable, then he and his body estimated that three in the morning, maybe half past, had come and gone. A long time ago, she’d told him that keeping lights on from the nighttime hours of ten-to-ten harmed the brain’s ability to produce melatonin, but he figured that light would be the least of their worries tonight.""

downpour, early october

Pre-IWTB: ""his phone on speaker and left on the kitchen counter, he'd chopped vegetables for dinner while talking to her, his knife-cuts careful and slow. age had made his hands clumsy, as she so loved to point out when he got a little too cocky with his chopping. after last week's stitches incident, his thumb still intact but just barely, he wouldn't take any chances.""

saying "I love you" without saying anything at all

Pre-IWTB: ""...she’s stuck in stopped bumper-to-bumper traffic on the highway, her eyes closing in annoyance that an accident just had to occur after her bad day at work. thankfully, the guy ahead of her lets his brake-lights off; they’re finally moving. she sighs in thankfulness, but nonetheless, she knows it’s going to be a long drive home.

her purse is on the passenger’s seat, so she figures that reaching into it and taking her phone out so that she can call mulder is a good idea; she could dial his number in her sleep, so she barely has to look at the screen as she starts to make the call.""

at starbucks

Pre-IWTB: ""her drink always comes up first, and as she picks up the cup, she immediately takes off its lid, sighs at the sight of whipped cream on top. though she always makes it clear that she doesn’t want whipped cream, she’s rarely gotten a coffee without the dollop on top.""

Bubbles!

Post IWTB: ""she presses against the water with her hands, moves away from you while you look in between sea-fans and fire corals. though you’re thankful for the change, for the difference, you know these colors could never exist in the states, at least not in the part of the states where you both live, no matter how greatly you wish they would. out there, everything is grassy and earthy, the colors being those of mountains, canyons, freshwater lakes, but here, cold and warm fluorescents light up the strangely-blue water, and though you’re wearing goggles, the world comes through in perfectly clear technicolor. the fish are like pizza shop open signs, the reefs textured and endless, the sand flitted with pink flecks that shine out most when they’re stuck to her hands. after the bout of winter you’ve had in virginia, the warmth and vibrance of the maldives feel life-affirming, the combination acting as a brash awakening to the varying beauties of the world. you’re glad that your first true vacation together was to somewhere that feels like another planet.""

at the beach

Post IWTB: ""he'll call their order in eventually, but for now, he just wants to sit by the ocean and hold her warm hand. with the scent of the sea, the sound of her breathing, and the taste of sweet lemonade on his tongue, he feels relaxation deep in his bones. though he's always searched for life on other planets - and though this planet has recently given him reasons to look elsewhere based on the news - there are some parts of his life on this planet that leave him in joyful wonder, in awe of how beautiful and pure these pleasures feel.""

anabiosis

Post IWTB: ""...he stumbled over his shed pants and leaned too hard against her bedside table. at the time, she huffed a laugh, then ignored the piece of furniture altogether.

they only noticed that i was broken the next morning when she didn’t hear her alarm go off. though scully had remembered to clean out the fridge and take out the trash, she’d forgotten to empty the glass of water she kept on her bedside table, so when she stared down at the table, now a pile splintering and aged wood, she saw unrepairable cracks, a wet spot, and an unsalvageable clock."" 

How about if they try running together? Are they adorably frustrated with the height difference?

Post IWTB: ""though she invests in nice running clothes - most of them are incredibly expensive and from that one brand, something about lemons - he’s all about the cotton tee shirt and basketball shorts. however, this specific pair of basketball shorts has seen better days, probably ones sometime around 1995 or 1996. these shorts don’t stretch much anymore and have quite a bit of trouble staying up; she giggles under her breath whenever he has to pull them up.""

at a motel

Post IWTB: ""when he wakes, her side of the bed is empty, cold, and still a little damp; getting up, he looks through the sliding glass doors of their room, can just make out her red hair in the fog. her back to him, she stands just at the edge of the rocky beach beyond their motel, her gaze focused on the ocean. as pisces as can be, he smiles to himself as he puts on his shirt and shoes, then goes out to meet her.

they’re in new brunswick, but the weather and the surroundings still feel like maine, where they passed through in order to get here.""

beneath the stars

Post IWTB: ""we should install a skylight." 

"we can't install a skylight." 

"why not?" 

"because above us is the attic, not the roof. all we would get is a view of what we have stored up there."" 

coming home

Post IWTB: ""when she arrives home, her raincoat’s hood up to shield her from the unyielding downpour, he’s standing in the kitchen, a little cooking stain on his shirt; he stirs a large pot of soup, what he figures she’ll want after a long, cold day. as she steps out of her shoes - little duck-boots, too short to be worn in snow but the perfect height to wear when she needed to wear dress-slacks in the rain - and sheds her coat, he asks, “how was work?""

at chipotle

Post IWTB: ""he hovers behind her, both a step too far away and a step too close. as she’s complained before, these franchises are so loud, but they’re the healthiest fast-food she’s managed to find.""

at whole foods

Post IWTB: ""but scientists could’ve had their livelihood hinging on it, scully!” he says as she sighs but smiles, for she can’t take him into this store without having him notice something and go on and on about it until they’ve checked out. last time, he scrutinized over the bulk food section and how so many different varieties of the same-colored rice they had."" 

malneirophrenia

Post IWTB: ""she looks to him, then leaps down the porch-steps and races out into the grass.

she’s barefoot. she never goes barefoot.

as he always will, he follows her, his bare feet and aging heart protesting as he tries to catch up with her. though she’s tiny, she’s fast, faster than he can remember her being.""

having coffee

Post IWTB: ""she ducks into the shop, mulder at her heels as she closes the front door behind them; he retracts their umbrella, one that hardly kept them dry given the blustering winds outside. they came out here to damascus with the plan of hiking over the three-day weekend; however, the weather has had other ideas for them, has kept them holed up at an inn and reading in bed while the peak fall foliage rustles about outside.""

at the ballet

Post IWTB: ""he's not one for fine arts, particularly the modern or performance-based ones, but a month beforehand, she mentioned that she would love to take in a ballet, so here they are, him wearing a sport-coat and a tie she'd given him years beforehand, her wearing a little black dress and nude pumps.""

true minds (Ao3)

Post IWTB: ""There's..."

She paused, took a breath.

"I'd like to see something," she gave. "In the city."

"Are you asking me to go with you?"

She paused again.

"Yes," she gave, emphasis on the fricative, "but I'm not sure it's something you'd like to see."

"Is the ballet in town?" he half-joked.

"Meet me at the hospital as soon as you can?""

cioppino

Post IWTB: ""the flourless chocolate cake is settling in the fridge; the homemade gelato from that place she loves in town is milling about in the freezer; he baked fresh bread this morning, iced a bottle of sparkling cider just in case. now, he simply needs the cioppino to cooperate, and then, the night will be set, all of his variables taken care of; after that, all he needs to do is wait for her response.

he got the ring three days ago, claimed he was borrowing her car so that he could help an old lady from the library shovel her driveway.""

in sickness

Post IWTB: ""yesterday, scully came home with a cough, said that she must've picked something up from a kid in the emergency room; after calling in to say that she wouldn't be working the next day - she tended to play it safe when it came to sickness - she retired for the evening, her dinner being warm soup mulder made and served to her in bed; she was too thankful for the gesture than to complain that the vegetables weren't fully cooked. then, she mixed some honey and herbs - it was just a little cough, she swore, and all she needed was something to suppress it so that she could sleep - and went to bed with him alongside her. for hours, he knew she couldn't sleep, couldn't stop coughing long enough to let herself fall asleep. at one in the morning, he propped her up with some extra pillows, let her curl up next to him as she cringed against each cough.""

reazione

Post IWTB: ""for the nine hours they spent on a plane, he never once sought out entertainment. 

“and that’s a redox reaction,” scully explained over a series of inked and torn-up cocktail napkins, each advertising coca cola, deliziosa e rinfrescante in red text on one corner. “it involves a transfer of electrons, thus changing the oxidation number of the molecule.”

“so you lose or gain one?” mulder asked, the lighting above their economy-class - her insistence - seats sparse and dim, making him squint from behind his reading glasses.""  

on a bad day

Post Home Again: ""scully?” he asks, his voice softer than before, more aware. though he knows what day it is, he also knows that she’s best off when he doesn’t talk about it, when he lets her work and get through the day in whichever way she chooses. however, he cares deeply, sometimes to a fault, so now, he seems to see that there’s cause for concern. “are you alright?" 

then, she fully gives in to the sobs, hunches over on her desk, pushes that stupid salad out of the way. he can hear her - she knows that much for sure - but he stays silent nonetheless, waits for her to speak first. in between sobs, she wipes away tears, manages, "i miss my sister."" 

Love your stories! Please post one of your 'Scully is sick and Mulder takes care of her' fics...

Revival: ""doctors make the worst patients, scully told him once during their days working the x-files. there’s something about understanding what is wrong with you, he surmises, that makes enduring something like the flu all the more traumatic; though you may know exactly what is happening in your body, you still can’t stop it from happening.""

on his birthday

Revival: ""what’re you going to wish for?”

the reality is that there is nothing more he wants right now, nothing more he knows he can have. of course, he wishes for things like world peace and…he wishes things were never so dire or dark for either of them, summarizes all of those wishes with just that line. however, of the things he could wish for or want for his future, there is nothing, not when he has their life together. however, that’s all beside the point, so he asks, “don’t people usually sing before you blow out the candles?""

on sunday morning

Revival: ""when she wakes, he’s sitting up in bed, his book in hand, daggoo at his feet.

“good morning,” he says softly as soon as she stirs; while she looks up at him, he looks down, smiles a quiet, warm smile just for her. 

though she has woken up this way for many mornings now, has grown accustomed to sleeping next to him, there nonetheless remains an exquisite sense of peace within her whenever she wakes up next to him.""

Hi! I don't know if you want to do this prompt but MSR In a power outage. It just happened to me and for some reason I thought of your blog lol

Revival: ""how is it that chinese restaurants always have power when we don’t?” he asks as she sets their monopoly box on the kitchen table, nearly knocking over the container of shrimp fried rice in the process.

“must be fate,” she deadpans as she pulls the board out of the box, sets up the cash one the kitchen table; she’s memorized their starting amounts, always acts as banker when they play.""

feeding the dog

Revival: ""all i’m saying is that we’ve seen forbidden planet many, many times, but it’s been a long time since we watched something...”

she trails off as she takes the bag of dog food out of the pantry, takes the chip-clip from off of its rolled-over top. inside, there’s a scoop, and next to her on the counter is daggoo’s little bowl, one mulder bought and painted himself. light blue ceramic, white polka-dots, daggoo written in black print. it matches nothing else in the house.""

paleomnesia

Revival: ""i’ve told you this a million times over,” mulder insists with a lighthearted laugh. “plus, you were there too. no matter how many times i recount those events to you, they aren’t going to change, and your memory of them isn’t going to change.”

“i don’t want them to change,” she says softly....""

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[iambittythings]

A little break from AuGhost for a bit more Smaugust. This is the Pearl Dragon's also recently repaired sibling, the Sea Glass Dragon.

Those are actual pieces of sea glass that were gathered from beaches in Newfoundland. They're both part of their body, in the spines, and the little hoard. And frankly, Seaglass Dragon's glowing features look amazing in the dark. Yes I will toot my own horn for once, lol.

Created the same time as Pearl, both dragons were made during a period of grief, and receiving them back broken was shattering. Being able to repair both to full glory was so healing, and I feel really good about it.

I'm ready to let both Pearl and Sea Glass go forth to new homes, and they'll be up on Bittythings and Beasts before the end of the month. If you'd like a beast in the meantime, please check out Bittythings and Beasts, for spoopy, common, and magical friends.

[kmhnsecretexchange]

Title: How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You

Author: eri, nyastarion (twt)

For: @Lunasea_art_ (twt)

Pairings/Characters: komahina ♥

Rating/Warnings: G

Prompt: kmhn having a picnic date on a secluded beach~

Author’s notes: thank you for the very lovely prompt, and i hope you like what i’ve done with it :)

He is too beautiful to be real, Hinata thought, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

He watched as Komaeda finished rolling up the cuffs of his jeans, mesmerized by his long, pale fingers folding the fabric over and over. A breeze swept down the beach, swirling up eddies of sand onto their picnic blanket, and blowing Komaeda’s hair into his face. Hinata stuffed his hands underneath his thighs to stop himself from reaching out and brushing the strands out of Komaeda’s eyes himself.

“I’ll just be a second,” Komaeda said, glancing over at Hinata, the late afternoon sun limning his silhouette with gold.

“No worries.” Hinata grabbed the picnic basket they had brought along, and flipped the lid open. His hand wrapped around the glass neck of a sparkling cider bottle. “I’ll go ahead and get everything out.” Komaeda stood up, dusting off the fine layer of sand that had settled in the creases of his clothes, and started walking towards the water. Hinata watched him go, slowly pulling the cider bottle from the confines of the basket. It was mid-October, so the water was going to be freezing, but Komaeda had insisted, saying he had promised Sonia that he would bring her back a few pieces of seaglass.

Hinata finally dragged his gaze away from Komaeda, and busied himself with unpacking their basket. The wind seemed to have died down a bit, which he was grateful for; the last thing he wanted was sand blowing into all the food. He pulled out two plastic champagne flutes for the cider, several boxes of Chinese food from one of their favourite local places, and a pretty black-and-white striped box of chocolate eclairs tied shut with a red grosgrain ribbon. At the bottom of the basket were two sets of wooden chopsticks, hastily wrapped together in blue cloth napkins, and a plastic container of watermelon, cut into sticks, which had been extremely difficult to find in the middle of fall.

The basket doubled as small table, and as Hinata started arranging things around the blanket, he realized they had forgotten plates.

“I found some!” Komaeda was back, sand sticking to the sea-dampened skin of his ankles. He sat down on the blanket across from Hinata, and placed the colourful glass on the basket lid.

“Did you tell her that it’s basically just naturally sand-blasted trash?” Hinata asked, after dutifully inspecting each piece: one green, one blue, and one white, with the frosted glass texture that came from being tumbled in the ocean for who knows how long.

“I did,” Komaeda popped the lid off the watermelon container. “She didn’t believe me.” Hinata laughed as Komaeda pulled out a piece of watermelon and bit off the end. “But I don’t mind getting some for her if it makes her happy, you know?”

“I get you.” Hinata picked up the pieces of sea glass—which were still warm from being held in Komaeda’s hands—and placed them on the edge of the blanket. “By the way, I completely forgot to pack plates. I hope you don’t mind just eating straight out of the boxes?”

“I don’t mind,” Komaeda gave him one of his small smiles, the ones that made Hinata feel like someone had zapped him with a cattle-prod, activating every nerve in his body down to his toes. How long could you be with someone before you stopped feeling like you needed professional resuscitation whenever they looked at you? How hard could you love someone before it eventually made your heart give out? He had been with Komaeda for years, loved him for even longer, and yet he was always surprised by the intensity of his own feelings.

Heart hammering so hard he could feel it in his ears, Hinata grabbed two boxes of vegetable lo mein and put them on top of the basket. Komaeda had already unwrapped his own pair of chopsticks before neatly laying the napkin over his lap, which made Hinata start laughing again.

“What?”

“Just…” Hinata gestured to the napkin, which had already been folded in half by the wind, rendering it useless. “You’re covered in sand, but still have to have follow the rules of etiquette.”

“Says the guy who completely ruined his pants with tomato soup last week because he didn’t put a napkin in his lap!” Komaeda shook the napkin out, laying it flat once again. “I’m taking no chances. Sand doesn’t leave stains.”

“Neither does lo mein!” Hinata popped one of the boxes open as he reached for his own chopsticks. “And the soup thing was absolutely not my fault. It was Souda’s.”

“You blame everything on Souda.”

“Because it’s usually his fault!”

Komaeda paused, his chopsticks hovering thoughtfully over his noodles.

“Okay, you might actually be right about that.” Komaeda scooped out a messy bite from his box. “But the soup was absolutely your fault.”

Hinata rolled his eyes, but smiled so that Komaeda knew he wasn’t actually upset. It had taken him a while, at the beginning of their relationship, to realize that he needed to be clear about his feelings. He had what Ibuki told him was “resting bitch face,” and sometimes it was hard to tell when he was joking or legitimately annoyed.

Komaeda flashed him another one of his smiles in return, and Hinata ducked his head down, stabbing his own chopsticks into his own lo mein and shoving a bite into his mouth to distract himself from the flush running up the back of his neck. Komaeda, as usual, didn’t seem to notice the extreme effect he had, and happily took another bite. Hinata watched him as he looked out towards the water, wind ruffling the collar of his jacket. One of the nice things about being with Komaeda was that there was never any rush to fill the silence; he was happy to sit quietly, just enjoying being around other people.

Hinata unscrewed the cap from the cider bottle and filled their glasses, passing one across the basket to Komaeda.

“We should toast something,” Komaeda said, right before the rim of the glass touched Hinata’s lips.

“Like what?” Hinata lowered his glass, watching as bubbles fizzled up the sides.

“I don’t know, us? The beach in October? Laundromats that can get tomato soup out of denim?” Komaeda paused, tapping his fingers on the side of his champagne glass. “Actually, scratch that last one. I don’t know if they exist.”

“You’re just going to keep rubbing that in, aren’t you?” Hinata huffed, and took a sip of his cider despite the lack of toasting. Komaeda sniffed at him, annoyed, but took a sip of his own as well. “And by the way, your napkin is folded over again.” Komaeda glanced down at his lap, and sure enough, the napkin he had placed so carefully was once more folded in half, hanging off of one knee.

“Little bastard,” Komaeda muttered to the napkin under his breath, and Hinata choked back a laugh, watching as Komaeda smoothed the napkin out yet again. It was always the quiet moments like these, where Hinata could tell that Komaeda was being comfortably, unapologetically himself, that made life worth living.

“So before you showed up for us to drive here,” Hinata said, reaching behind himself to where he had stashed the box of eclairs. “I made a stop at Teru’s…”

Komaeda was already leaning to the side, having spotted Hinata’s hand, and was trying to see behind him.

“You got eclairs?” The hopeful, slightly upward tilt of his voice had Hinata smothering another laugh as he pulled the box into view.

“I did. Even though I got there early, these were literally the last ones.”

Komaeda wordlessly held his hands out for the box, and Hinata didn’t bother trying to hide a laugh this time as he passed it over.

“I’m guessing that trying to tell you to eat your food before going for dessert isn’t going to have any effect, is it?”

“I have limited space in my stomach, and I’m not going to waste it on anything else when these are an option.”

It took Komaeda mere seconds to get the ribbon off the box and an eclair into his mouth. There was a smudge of chocolate above his upper lip, and Hinata moved the basket to the side so he could lean forward to wipe it off with his napkin, but Komaeda jerked back, hugging the eclair box to his chest.

“I’m not out to steal your sweets, Komaeda,” Hinata rolled his eyes, reaching forward again. “You’ve just got a little…” He hesitated, immediately overwhelmed by how close he was to Komaeda’s face. Even after all this time, being so close to him, seeing the grey flecks in his green eyes, watching how his nose scrunched up a little as he waited for Hinata to get his shit together… it felt like a chorus of angels was singing in his head, like a tidal wave of love and adoration had swept through and drowned all other thoughts. He is much, much too beautiful to be real.

Hinata forgot about the napkin, and instead impulsively pressed his lips to Komaeda’s, savouring the sweet taste of chocolate that still lingered.

“I thought you weren’t trying to steal my sweets,” Komaeda murmured against Hinata’s mouth.

“Oh! Right.” Hinata quickly sat back, his cheeks red. “You just had smear of chocolate on your face and…”

Komaeda opened the box and pulled out another eclair, dabbing some of the chocolate icing at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh look, another smudge.”

“Wow.” Hinata leaned forward again and pushed Komaeda backwards onto the blanket, leaning on his elbows as he hovered over him. “So I guess if you had to choose between me and the eclairs, it would be me then, huh?”

Komaeda’s expression switched suddenly from joking to serious as he gazed up at Hinata.

“Every time.” Komaeda whispered, as he reached up and cupped Hinata’s face in his hands. “It will always be you. Every single time.” Then he pulled him down and kissed him, sweeter than any eclair could ever be.

[pomegrnteseed]

wanderlust

He watched her drag her feet through the frothy waves, giggling as seaweed tickled her ankles, hunting for perfectly preserved seashells to fill her mason jar.

She did this everywhere they travelled - filled a jar with sand, shells, seaglass, driftwood - and dedicated a shelf back home on her bookcase to the trinkets from farflung places.

Sirius finished his cigarette and strolled down the sand towards her, delighting in the image of her sunkissed and backlit by the golden hour. Hermione looked every part the mermaid on two legs from the tale she'd read to him the night prior. It was a dark and twisted fairytale, but here he could only see the magic, the wonder of this water nymph of his.

His.

He could still hardly believe it had been four years of exploring the world together. Figuring out life together. Growing into their relationship together.

It had been the best decision they'd ever made, leaving England two years ago. Sending those mason jars back from every beach their feet hit in carefully packaged boxes with extensive padding to protect the glass. Tucking a messily scrawled postcard locating and dating each jar. To give them stories to reminisce over when they finally returned home. Whenever that may be. They were in no hurry, content to wander, to explore, to learn, to rest.

She heard him then, footsteps heavy on the compact sand, and turned to him with a smile brighter than the stars, no inkling of the ghosts that haunted her, carefree and brimming with a childlike wonder as she proffered her cupped hands to him, filled with treasures of the sea.

What a lucky bastard he was.

Thanks @siriusmiones for the image prompt, sorry it took me weeks to write a couple words about it

[loonarmuunar]

“Here’s 50 low fat low carb low calorie sugar for the summer 🤪” uhhhh no <3 I’m gonna go eat frecnh fries with my friends at the beach and look for seaglass. Maybe get pelted with rocks again by the waves and bleed profusely that’s always fun. More fun then ur bullshit

[just-art5]

New additions to the shop!

It's been a while since I added anything new to the shop (for obvious reasons) but I felt like making a few pretty things so I did!

This is a lovely flower made out of seaglass that I have collected during one of my walks at the beach. Beach glass or seaglass is technically not supposed to be in oceans or seas or beaches so alongside trash, I pick it up and repurpose it as pictures! It's really fun to look at, especially under the sunlight.

This next one includes seaglass and seashells, which I collected after making sure that nothing lived in them or on them. It's just a nice fun bouquet of flowers.

These and more are available to purchase in my Etsy shop! I ship almost all over the world!

I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone that has already made a purchase from my small shop, even throughout these last few months that was not able to make anything new. You guys gave me the boost that I needed!

Thank you so so so much!!

[everlarkficquestions]

Hey! I'm looking for a fic that I believe I may have read in 2014? 2015 and Katniss and Peeta were on the victory tour and the train stopped in district 4 or had issues and needed to stop; So they ended up going to the beach and spending the day there and Peeta found seaglass that he gave Katniss as a gift and that evening when they were about to go to sleep there was some talk about Peeta's prosthetics leg and the sand maybe being itchy and that he wanted to take it off. I think it was the first time Katniss saw it off too. It was a work in program back then and that's how I lost track of it!🥺 I'd love to find it again

FOUND!

Either Way - bellissimaanima (Thank you, @hodgepodgebrie!)

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

Seaglass and Gold

Seaglass and Gold by KitKatWrite

When Inko Midoriya starts to find strange little glittering gifts on the deck of her small house boat she initially assumes that they are treasures that her young son has brought to her from the beach, but as rarer and more beautiful trinkets starts to appear – and as Izuku denies all the more fervently that he's one leaving them there – she begins looking for the source of the beautiful but puzzling gifts.

From the water, Merman Toshinori watches his prospective mate take his gifts with a wide smile. She seems to like the things that he is leaving for her, the signs that he can be a good and caring mate. All that's left to do is to work up the courage to introduce himself to her properly.

Words: 4363, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 10 of MyHeroMerMay2023

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Midoriya Inko, Midoriya Izuku

Relationships: Midoriya Inko/Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Meet-Cute, First Meetings, Merman Toshinori, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, courting, courting gifts, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Love at First Sight, Good Parent Midoriya Inko, They live on a boat, Alternate Universe - Quirkless, There's like the smallest moment of angst but it resolves very quickly, Happy Ending

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47275264