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eveningepiphany · 10 months

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welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.

warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!

a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.

also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig

———

There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.

That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.

You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.

You’d waited years just to get here in general.

When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.

But you’re here. At the front.

You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.

A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.

Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.

But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.

Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.

You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.

Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.

“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.

You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.

“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.

Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”

Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.

“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.

“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.

You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”

You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.

“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.

“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.

You could stay in this moment forever.

As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.

You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.

Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.

Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.

Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.

And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”

“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.

Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.

The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.

You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.

You were enamoured by him.

Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.

His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.

“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.

“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.

He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”

You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.

But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.

From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.

But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.

This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.

And then he reads the sign.

‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’

His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.

You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.

“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.

As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.

However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.

He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.

“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”

“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.

Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.

‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.

A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.

“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.

He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.

“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.

“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”

A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”

Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.

You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.

“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.

He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”

You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.

The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.

Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.

“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.

“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.

“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”

And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.

You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.

And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.

But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.

You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.

It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.

To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.

Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”

You blow a kiss back.

And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.

Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.

You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.

Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.

———

Post love on tour depression is a real thing.

There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.

But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.

The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.

And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.

The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.

You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.

You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.

It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”

It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.

That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.

Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.

“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.

He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.

He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.

“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.

You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.

But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.

You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.

“Hi…” You flush profusely.

“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.

Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.

The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.

That are very intensely locked onto yours…

“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”

He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.

“Y/N.” He tuts gently.

“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.

“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.

“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.

Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?

You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.

“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”

“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.

“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.

You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.

He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.

Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.

You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.

Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.

Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.

You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.

You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.

You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”

He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.

“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.

“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.

“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,

“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”

Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”

He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.

In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.

“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.

The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.

“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.

“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.

“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”

He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”

“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.

“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.

“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.

“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”

“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.

“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.

“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”

He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.

You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.

Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.

The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.

He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.

Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.

You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.

But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.

You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”

He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”

A friend of his?

“Alright, bye, I love you.”

And just like that the phone hung up.

“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.

“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.

You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.

“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.

It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.

“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”

“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”

As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.

Your brain stalls at his comment.

“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.

“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”

“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.

“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.

You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”

He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”

“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”

You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”

He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.

You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.

“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”

You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”

He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.

You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.

“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.

He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.

“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.

Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.

You check your phone to see the time.

1:53pm

1 new notification

Unknown Number | :)

So that actually did just happen.

———

To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,

so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?

And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.

———

part two!!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #fanfic #harry styles smut #famous harry #fan! y/n #fangirl! y/n #italyrry #he’s so cute

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ikayblythe · 11 months

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on the nature of void fluid . . .

We are back with another nerd post this time with speculative planetary science :0

Here, we have a cross section of the planet's crust. Ill go into more detail on each layer below ⬇️

The Surface

The "earth" in rain world was historically an ice world, with a weak sun and sheets of glaciers covering the surface. The only form of heat being from the earth itself. It doesn't take long to find large cave systems eroded by millenia of ice melt.

The erosion of the land from the great ice sheets created a jagged landscape of underground tunnels and pockets, shaped by the flow of the melting ice over time. The planet's crust is very hollow and thin thanks to this.

The Void Sea

As the water tunneled down into the earth, it collected in large underground pockets, kept as liquid by geothermal heat. These formed the planet's first true oceans, with life originating from communities around hydrothermal vents.

The Void Seas [yes, several!] are an ancient chemosynthetic ecosystem of extremophiles. The microbiome here has adapted to metabolize with as many different materials as available in this harsh environment, including inorganic substances, leading to the Void Sea's large appetite for the surface world and anything in it.

Of course, we know that microbes aren't the only denizens of the Void. The Void Worms are filter feeders supported by this microbial ecosystem! It may take tens of thousands of years for a Void Worm to reach the sizes seen—they don't stop growing.

Void Fluid Technology

As the Ancients expanded more and more into biotechnology, they discovered they could utilize many of the microbial cultures native to the Void Sea. Filtration facilities sought to isolate these species from one another, sorting for their individual uses and properties.

For example, iterators are the largest consumers of void fluid, using both domesticated and wild strains of microorganisms. The domesticated strains were repurposed into symbiotes to act as "cells," and so the blood of an iterator, or hemolymph, is a special mixture of these symbiotic void cultures.

And as living things, iterators do need to eat! In this case, nutrition comes from the underground bacterial soup. Yummy.

They have large-scale equivalents for almost every biological process, including digestion. The "stomachs" are vats of unrefined void fluid filled with symbiotic cultures that act as enzymes to prey upon native microbes and organic detritus. Or any unfortunate maintenance worker . . .

"Ascension"

The Void Sea is the origin of life, but also highly toxic to its children on the surface, eager to eat them alive. The activities of the microbiome as well as the output of the hydrothermal vents fill the caverns closest to the Seas with noxious fumes, causing hallucinations, delirium, and eventually death.

But ultimately, the Void Sea leaves no bodies. Whatever delusional creature makes it in, never returns. After all, those microorganisms evolved to consume whatever they could get.

#rain world #rainworld #rain world fanart #rw #rain world art #rain world lore #anyway it might sound far fetched but boy do real life organisms do funky things!#some bacteria can eat trash and make electricity #like you can power a light bulb with dirt #its called microbial fuel cells and theyre fascinating #sunshower lore

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saekkas · 11 months

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄

summary: rin's becoming more human the longer he's with you. he doesn't mind at all.

tags: f!reader, merfolk au, shark mermaid hybrid rin, human reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, falling in love, cultural differences, kissing.

wc: 2k

notes: i'm honestly very proud of this. i hope i did rinnie justice!

rin normally doesn't care about anything else but hunting, it's a given with how quickly he's growing. only months before his eleventh birthday, rin's already outgrown the other merchildren in his pod.

his tail is getting bigger, stronger, and he's starting to catch up to the wild orcas roaming the big blue seas which he calls home. it's a pretty thing, sleek and smooth but scaly.

black as the hair on his head with coralline blue and teal swirling up the limb, he looks like the fearsome predator he is. not only that, but his skin is also becoming thicker even his sharp nails can't scratch through them like they used to.

what he most prides in himself though, are his teeth. shark teeth are unique in the way they shred, falling out every year to signify their age. rin collects his, keeping every single one on his neck, wrapped around a long piece of netting he found near the shore.

he has ten wrapped around his neck, proudly showing off their sharpness and glimmer to anyone who passes.

the coral reefs are beautiful this time of year, they're teeming with life and growing into their colors. rin's laying among one, absentmindedly running his finger through an anemone, watching as the clown fish scatter at his motions.

the sun is bright ahead, casting a light that shines directly on him. he loves the feeling. basking under the sun yet not burning because of his skin.

minutes or even hours go by. rin can never seem to tell the time, not when the current flows through his gills. he almost falls asleep right where he is when a shadow passes up head. rin's eyes flutter open and it only takes him a moment to propel himself to the surface, his hands tightly gripping at what he assumes to be a seal.

he flinches when your scream pierces his ears. even though the sound is cloudy under water, rin moves back, letting his hands fall to his sides. his dorsal fin breaches the water as he circles you, keeping his distance before swimming closer.

only to receive a kick to the face.

rin grunts, feeling the telltale signs of a tooth shredding. he keeps it in one hand, letting his tail push him out of the water. his head pops out, bright teal eyes and messy flock of dark hair surrounding his visage. he's surprised you don't react as dramatically as you did.

rin isn't as interested with humans as the rest of his pod but he's followed enough fishing boats around to understand and speak their language.

he eyes you, stiff as a plank on your surfing board. you're a small thing, weak looking, and pruned. he wonders what you're doing out in the middle of the ocean all alone.

at first, all that comes out of his mouth are hums and growls. he's trying to communicate the best he can but when you start to lift a leg again, which rin thinks is meant to be a threat, he stops.

"are you a merman?" your voice is shaky at best, as is your entire body. your hands clench around the shells you've been collecting, ready to throw it at the unfamiliar creature. "my grandparents used to tell me about you. i didn't think you were real."

fascination replaces the fear in your eyes, and rin feels himself stiffen. you look to be the same age he is, and you have nothing to protect yourself with. he sighs internally, letting out a low chirp that you seem to perk at.

"can you talk?" you use your legs, kicking against the calm waters to bring yourself closer to him. rin leans back, cautiously flicking water at your face with his tail. you giggle at his action. "i won't hurt you. in fact, you're the one who could hurt me if you wanted to."

he calms a little at that. rin has always been the cautious one, especially with the way humans use their machines to trap his kind for amusement. he nods, pointing at you and then at himself, speaking lowly, "i thought you were a seal. please don't swim alone like this."

he dives back into the depths, only looking back at your form one last time when he hears you yell something at him. your name. rin smiles, clenching the tooth wrapped around his palm, and swims back home.

the seasons pass, the necklace around rin's neck becoming heavier as he grows. he's recently turned twenty-one yet there are only twenty pieces of his teeth dangling around his neck.

he doesn't wear the eleventh one because of you.

through the years, rin's become verily acquainted with your presence. friendship, you had called it. at first it was another accidental meeting between the two of you when he was out hunting near the shore. one thing led to another and rin finds himself too used to your laughter, the little quirks that you possess, and the differences between your worlds.

he's a full-grown shark now. his shoulders have broadened, his tail a sight to behold. he has the ability to roam the oceans, swim across the world, yet the waters feel empty without you beside him. rin has to shake the thought out of his head when he hears your voice calling out.

the waters of the open ocean ripple when you kick and slam your feet, and it has rin shaking his head. he launches himself at your board, hearing your maniacal laughter when he breaches the surface. he tips your surfboard, effectively sending you right into the water.

"that's no fair!" you push the wet hair out of your face, splashing rin when his head pops out of the water. "i never get to surprise you."

rin flicks his tail, sending a wave of water right at your face. he chuckles lowly when you splutter. humans and their need for air never seem to not amuse him.

"my brother can probably hear you at the bottom of the ocean with how loud you were being."

you snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. "i'm sure sae is comfortably unaware of my presence in his secret cave."

rin only chuckles at that, swimming closer to wrap a hand around your waist, pushing you up against his chest.

that's another thing rin has become acquainted with ever since meeting you. skin ship. the act of touching itself is uncommon among shark folk. gentle caresses and acts of service are reserved only for family or mates. with strangers and even friends, aggression is usually what he uses; play fights, hunting, preying.

and here he is, letting you touch him and take away all his time as if it were a normality.

the worst part about it? rin feels as if he wants it, needs it. he can barely spend an entire day without you, your smile and gentle touches soothe him in ways he can't understand. he hates to admit it, but sae was right. he's been too blind all this time, like a guppy threading through murky waters.

he just needs to own up to it.

"hello? earth to rin?"

his eyes come back into focus, solely fixed on you. there's a smile on your face, your feet softly kicking against the water. the sun is setting behind you, and rin feels his heart beat out of his chest at the sight.

he hums, a mere flick of his tail sending you both forward. he wraps his arms around your waist tighter, careful with his nails, and helps you stay afloat against the water.

he wonders if you can feel the thrumming in his chest against yours.

"someone's distracted today," you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck.

moments of intimacy between you are sparce but they're special, especially on days where you both want nothing but to float away in the sea. his nails, pointed and sharp, trail up your waist and settle on your lower back.

he's not sure what's making you shiver. the cold temperature or his touch.

"something special happen?"

rin nuzzles his nose against your neck, right where your gills are supposed to be if you were like him. a low rumble sounds deep in his chest, one you recognize to be a greeting. one he never forgets to gift you.

"i have something for you." his voice by your neck is low, deep as the ocean you swim in. you feel his hands roam down to your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his waist. when they do, you hear him sigh, his dorsal fin slumping in content.

you watch with amusement, lifting a finger to caress the limb. it makes him groan, wrapping his hands around you tighter, before suddenly diving down into the depths, bringing you with him.

his movement are fast, and you try to keep your eyes open, even when the salt stings. rin does this often. most times when he's flustered or something's bothering him. today, you assume, it's a combination of both.

when he breaches the surface, you inhale as much oxygen as you can. looking around, you see that he's brought you onto a small stack of land that's covered in sand, surrounded by miles of water.

"i have something for you," he repeats, his eyes unblinking as he stares at you. "i want you to have it."

you let him open your palm, watch as he drops a necklace decorated with pearls and a single tooth in the middle.

"is this," you gasp, looking at the necklace around his neck and back to, what is now, yours. "rin. you didn't have to."

"i didn't." he nods as he says his words, now shyly avoiding your gaze. his dorsal fin stands rigid against his back, his tail anxiously wrapping around one of your legs. he's so different yet so similar to you, in so many ways. "i wanted to."

"thank you," you whisper softly, leaning over to where he sits by the edge of the water. "i want to give you something too."

"what is it?" his tail flicks against your thigh, the texture smooth and scaly, hefty above the skin. it's a weight you're used to. a weight that grounds you. "i'd like anything you give me."

there's the beginnings of a blush on rin's cheek and you silently giggle, wondering whether shark folk are always so brash and obvious with their words.

"well, i'll hold you to it."

rin hesitates, freezing when you lift a hand to his neck, gently caressing the gills on the area. he blinks, as if in a daze as your hand moves to his face, lingering on his cheek.

he's never let anyone come this close before. you've never come this close before. it feels foreign yet so much like home. he sighs, closing his eyes and slumping most of his weight on you, nuzzling his face into your hold.

he feels you lean down and blinks his eyes open when there's a gentle pressure on his lips. it leaves him tingling and he looks at you with wide eyes. "what did you do? what was that?"

"it's called a kiss." you swipe the hair that's covering his eyes away, still keeping a hand on his cheek. "it's what humans do to express their affection."

rin tilts his head, his tail coiling around your leg tighter. "you have affections for me?"

"i do," you say before laughing when he coos suddenly. he dives into the water right after, hiding his blush as only half of his head pops out.

"i have affections for you too." the sound of his voice is muffled by the water, but his excitement is clear with the way he's shaking. almost like a fish out of sea. a rin out of his element. "i liked that.. kiss too. can we do it again?"

"we can do it as many times as you want," you answer with a grin, tapping your thigh with a hand. "i can't kiss you when you're all the way there, though."

rin waddles closer to you, pulling himself onto the sand. letting his tail curl around your body, he smiles with sharp teeth as you pull him into another kiss. he can definitely get used to this.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin imagines #rin x reader #rin imagines #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #bllk x y/n #bllk x female reader #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x female reader #blue lock headcanons #rin fluff

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readtilyoudie · 5 months

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Almost every system we exist in is cruel, and it is our job to hold ourselves accountable to a moral center separate from the arbitrary ganglion of laws that, so often, get things wrong.

How Far the Light Reaches: A Life in Ten Sea Creatures by Sabrina Imbler

#book quote #how far the light reaches #a life in ten sea creatures #sabrina imbler #nonfiction #memoir #quote #quotes #booklr #bookblr

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blueberrypancakesworld · 3 months

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Hey there! So I’ve just recently gotten into Lost Boys, and was wondering if you could write a short where they meet the reader by saving them from the train during the bridge scene? Poor reader is just hanging onto Dwayne for dear life, begging for him not to drop her. And they’re all tryna be funny and make her laugh so she’s less scared. And then they take her home and she’s left flustered cause four hot guys actually talked to her lol.

Our hearts hold you little bat

warning : fluff&comfort, tiny angst, implied flirting

info : Four hot guys that are also vampires what a dream. Happy that you recently gott into tlb. I was very happy writing this for your dear anon. So I hope you like it and have fun reading, everyone else too ;)

masterlist

In a town like Santa Carla, it felt like there were only three things to do. You walked along the beach and swam in the sea, you went to the funfair and listened to music or you simply walked through the town and nature in the hope that something would happen.

But your choice fell into the third category. In a town like Santa Carla, she had visited the beach thousands of times, sunbathed in the water and enjoyed diving, which had only led to a few small fish that got boring after ten times.

The funfair and the concerts that would take place almost every weekend. Even after hundreds of thousands of visits, they were still entertaining and she liked dancing, eating cotton candy and singing with her friends and family.

But everything becomes too much at some point and she found that the night in this city slightly outside where you could have your peace and quiet was so much better. Peace and quiet is good too she thought as she looked up at the moon in the background as she turned to the beach which was still lit up, she could still hear the music, the saxophone being played could still be heard here.

"Like my own background music," she quipped and continued along the path, still old but still in use, it seemed to fit everything here. It was the height of strange people in the city while she also saw herself among them, but what was normal in this city?

She knew that she could get scared just as well as the other young adults, children and teenagers. ,,Not the murder capital of the world for nothing," she muttered as she walked along the path and saw the old bridge that Hlz and metal had seen for decades and probably years.

A beautiful constuction that stood under the stars, a constuction with history. History of the place she was interested in the place she was interested in. But one look at the party on the beach made her realize again that although she was having fun, she hadn't found a boyfriend or a relationship here yet, it wasn't that there weren't any dates but it had never happened in any way. She didn't really know how and the boys didn't want to.

But she shook off the thought, the wood creaked under her shoes, the metal seemed to tense up, but not because of her, was it? Something she didn't think about because the only thing she could never remember was when the train was coming. Running her hands over the railing, she didn't see the figures below her, the four beings, the handsome creatures in the form of four boys.

Enjoying the view, she looked at the beach, the city lights, the stars in the sky and the moon. It was a beautiful moment in the darkness of the evening. But this beautiful moment was interrupted by a fibrillation that brought her out of her thoughts as she looked beside her. ,,Oh shit!" she exclaimed as she caught the light and started to run.

She knew the bridge was long, the wood was rotten, the metal was rusty and the path wouldn't take her home straight away. It was as if, for the first time in this town, she was feeling terrified in the face of death. The pleading and running she could hear the horn, the light coming closer and the rattling of the wheels rumbling in her chest.

,,Come on fuck please just a little more" she mumbled but something inside her told her that she couldn't outrun a train traveling several hours and miles. A cry of fear escaped her as she closed her eyes and realized that she was not going to be caught by the train for a second when she suddenly felt arms around her.

Arms that were under a leather jacket, a dark leather jacket with a leopard on the sleeve and a bare torso underneath. ,,Wh-What?" she mumbled as she realized she wasn't caught in the train. But she screamed when she saw the ground beneath her and clung to someone. A person in the air? Confused, she looked at the man who looked at her with a slightly amused grin.

,,I've got you," he said calmly and she clawed at the scratching post like a cat, but the stranger didn't seem to mind. ,,Oh, Dwayne, don't be so shy... hey, sweetheart, do you have to scare us like that?" she heard a voice and looked carefully beside her, clawing even more at Dwayne, who was still holding her like she was nothing. A blond man flew next to them, long blond voluminous hair and a smile on his lips as he put his hand on hers.

,,You're flying? What-what are you Superman?" she asked, still not understanding what was going on, it was like a shadow the four of them. She had seen these four before on the solid but always just like a shadow. A damn good-looking shadow.

A laugh came from the four of them which made her squirm and she made a startled sound as one flew headlong towards her. ,,Don't hate, just grin I mean look at the view...besides I'm Marko, volumen hair is Paul and there in front is David" said the one with the curly hair and she saw the last of the four. She saw the light blond spiky hair, the leather coat and the glimpses of the cigarette.

,,Marko's right, sweetheart... enjoy this night view until you're back on the ground, don't want it to be uncomfortable," David said and gave her a grin as he joined his group. She tried to concentrate on the view, even though she kept looking back at the four of them.

Marko grinned at her and tried to tell her stories, Paul made bad jokes, David offered her a cigarette every now and then and talked about something, and Dwayne praised her for how well she was doing. The beauty of the creatures no it wasn't true she had seen the pointy fangs. These four beautiful vampires were really the best part of the night.

At some point it was quite nice to see the city from above and especially Dwayne's hands still holding her. She gave the four of them her address as the morning slowly threatened to come again and they flew there.

Luckily for her, she had left her window open because having to explain to her parents why four punky looking boys were standing outside the house was complicated.

,,Here sweetie," said Dwayne, gently helping her through the window as she finally got her feet back on the ground and the four of them hovered in front of her window. It was only now that she realized what had happened that a grin came to her lips and she could barely contain her excitement.

Four handsome vampires had rescued her and flown through the night. that was incredible i mean the train-you vampires...thank you for everything" she thanked the four of them who smiled at her.

,,Oh sweetie you have no idea how good everything will be tomorrow night at the same time" David mumbled and she knew she would be there, knew she was flying with the four of them again. But most of all she knew that there was now a fourth option. To roam the night with the lost boys.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #tlb david x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #tlb paul x reader #tlb marko x reader #tlb david #tlb marko #tlb dwayne #tlb paul

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dendrochronologies · 4 months

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whale necropsies. excerpted from "how to draw a sperm whale," how far the light reaches: a life in ten sea creatures, by sabrina imbler

#i kept coming back to this i need to scrapbook it somewhere. there was another paragraph i wanted too but i resisted. WHALES :(#sabrina imbler #how far the light reaches #the trouble with wilderness #r*#whales

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a-ramblinrose · 1 year

Quote

Almost every system we exist in is cruel, and it is our job to hold ourselves accountable to a moral center separate from the arbitrary ganglion of laws that, so often, get things wrong. This is the work we inherit as creatures with a complex brain, which comes with inexplicable joys, like love and sex and making out in cars, but also the duty of empathy, of understanding what it means when someone is stumbling.

Sabrina Imbler, How Far the Light Reaches: A Life in Ten Sea Creatures

#quote #Sabrina Imbler #How Far the Light Reaches: A Life in Ten Sea Creatures #How Far the Light Reaches #Current Reading #Current Reading Quotes #Not Out of Void But Out of Chaos #this is from an ARC I won through goodreads #so by the time this posts I won't actually be reading it anymore #but current reading is the tag it belongs in #*shrugs*

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corpsebasil · 1 year

Text

The Pirate Lord 18+

The battle had raged on for days.

You stood at the prow of your ship, staring out at enemy sails as they loomed on the horizon. Your chest tightened. You were exhausted. Every ounce of your Grisha power seemed drained, and you could barely summon a drop of water, let alone the tsunami you could’ve created had the enemy not forced you to waste it on smaller fleets over and over again.

The enemy were chasing after an enchanted sword, one that rightly belonged to Ravka, and it’s prince. You wondered over your captain’s intentions. Sure, you’d heard rumors about the prince Nikolai, but you didn’t imagine that any pompous royal deserved this much dedication to return his stolen treasure.

But if it was important to Sturmhond, it was important to you. And too many Grisha and sailors had already been sacrificed in this battle to back down now.

A ringed hand clasped your shoulder, his thumb rubbing against a knot in your skin. You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh as Sturmhond, your captain and lover, stood beside you.

“Looks like a piece of cake.” He said, tone sarcastic until the end. You glanced up to find him smirking, those blue eyes filled with a forced lightness that hurt you to the core.

“Definitely.” You purred, but still ran a thumb over the seashell amplifier pressed deep in the center of your collarbones, the opal and iridescent hues catching the light of the setting sun.

It had been a gift from a siren, a creature you’d thought mythical, when you’d rescued her from a group of lethal, piggish pirates. The shell had sang the whisper of the deepest parts of the sea when it’d been crafted into your chest, and Sturmhond swore sometimes that your collarbones and skin seemed to shine with the colors of a thousand rare shells when you used your power.

The captain had also sworn that you were the most beautiful thing on the seas, from anywhere, and you rolled your eyes whenever he lavished you with compliments and praises. The only praise that truly hit you in the gut was during the dark hours of the night, when you managed to pull sounds from him that made your blood run burning hot.

“Do you think we—” you stopped, running your fingertips again over the shell. You cleared your throat. “Do we have enough rum? I’m not going into the last night of my life sober.”

Sturmhond’s booming laugh brought a genuine smile to your face when he turned you, pulling you into his arms. He ran a hand down your braid, an intricate style that he still couldn’t comprehend. It contained beads and cuffs of gold, and tiny pearls that sparkled in the moonlight.

“You truly amaze me.” He said, and brought your mouth to his, savoring the feel of you. He’d never admit it, but if he lost you tomorrow… “What do you think? One last sea-shanty?”

“Eggs and pickles?”

“Rum and ale? Lots of rum, less of the ale?”

You grinned fiendishly, looping your arms around his neck.

“Now you’re speaking my language, captain.”

It was his turn to smile, a wicked smirk that make your cheeks flush and heat blossom in your chest. Even more so when he moved a hand to grab your ass, yanking your hips flush against his.

“I love it when you quote me.” He drawled, that devilish gleam in his eyes making your heart drop straight into your stomach. “And maybe,” he murmured, bending his head to nip your earlobe, his voice warm against your neck. “if you’re good, I’ll let you kiss me all over, later.”

“I’m always good.” You lied, and the slap he sent to your ass made you squeak out a laugh. “Bastard.”

“Hellion.”

“Idiot—”

“Are you two done confessing your love for one another? Because we have serious planning to do.” Tolya stood not ten feet away, neither of you having had noticed his approach.

You fought a wince as a mortified blush washed your features, immediately pulling out of Sturmhond’s grasp. You didn’t look at him, instead giving Tolya a cool look that could freeze the coldest ring of the afterlife.

“If you’re done gawking like a pervert,” you cooed, resting a hand casually, too casually, on the hilt of your sword. “then fine. Lead the way.”

Tolya gave Sturmhond a pointed look before walking away, and you didn’t give your blonde captain a second glance as you follow his third in command.

The silence strained as you followed after Tolya, the crashing waves and your boots the only noise against the deck as you walked. You tried to ignore his comment, but.. You and Sturmhond were not in love. No, what you shared was an easy, sometimes vicious banter, a loyalty that crossed every boundary, and some of the best sex you’d ever had in your life. The position you both played in each other’s lives was straightforward.

There’d never been a question of love. You knew he didn’t have those sorts of feelings for you, his second, just like you didn’t feel that way towards him. But sometimes, when he was extra sweet to you, or when he’d sink his hands in your hair as he kissed you, murmuring the most kind of compliments onto your mouth, you felt a painful tug towards him that you couldn’t ignore.

And the idea of losing him, of him dying tomorrow in battle, was unthinkable.

That night, drunk as bandicoots and finished with your planning, you and Sturmhond crashed into his cabins, unable to tear one another’s clothes off fast enough. You gasped as he almost tore your shirt in half, throwing you onto his desk and yanking your legs up around him. You almost collapsed at the first thrust up into you, your voice breaking on a cry you were sure the entire crew most likely heard.

But who cares.

“Y/N,” Sturmhond panted, pulling you flush against his chest as he slammed home over and over. “gods, Y/N.”

“Sturm—” you didn’t manage to get the word out, not when his hand found the place between your legs just as his mouth sucked a dangerously rough bruise against your neck.

Your finish hit you so fast and hard it was almost embarrassing, your face pressed against his shoulder as you choked on a moan. He lifted you and moved the both of you to the bed, slowing his pace to a lazy, almost reverent one as you slowed your breathing. And when you opened your eyes, finding him blinking open his own, the vast blue of them and the softness in his stare made your throat tighten so quickly you had to turn your head away.

“Y/N?” He asked, pausing his movements. You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t get the words out. “Darling, what is it?”

“You—” you swallowed, unable to look him in the eye when you forced a joke, running a hand down the smooth skin of his muscular back. Even the touch of him was beginning to make your eyes water, to your horror. “The orgasm was so good I’m a little emotional about it. Sorry.”

He laughed boyishly and kissed your neck, his rumbling chuckle easing something in your heart. He rolled his hips against your own, so slowly you could feel every inch of him, and you couldn’t stop the pleasure filled sigh that left your parted lips.

“I don’t believe that for a second.” He murmured against your skin, but didn’t argue, not when you flipped him onto his back, taking control of what was your last time bedding the captain.

His face was flushed, blue eyes heavy-lidded, and you kissed him, savoring every single Saints-given second.

The next morning was chaos.

Not only did a storm break over the sky, drenching your hair and clothes, but the enemy had fired their first blast at you, rocking the supposedly impenetrable ship with a force that almost threw you over the side of the ship.

“Get back.” Sturmhond growled, yanking you away from the rail. “Do you want to fall and drown before we start? Because if that’s the case, you might as well do it willingly.”

His anger surprised you into a sudden flash of annoyance, shoving his arm away.

“Now is not the time to be an asshole.” You spat, glaring fiercely as you stormed past him, knocking your shoulder against his as hard as you dared.

And when the first enemy pirate ship came into range, you stepped right back towards the ship’s rail, taking a deep breath. You tunneled deep into your power, as far as it could possibly go. Closer. Closer. Just when you could see the whites of the enemies’s eyes, you threw your hands out, gritting your teeth as a tidal wave so large and overpowering it crested the ship, slammed down with enough force to crack rock.

And when the water settled as much as it could again, the waves still roiling, you wiped the rain out of your eyes and stared out at the spot where the ship was. Was, because now it was sunk.

A battle cry rose behind you from your crew as you swallowed, shoving the sleeves of your wet shirt up to your elbow. Through the darkness of the thunderclouds and the water spearing out of the sky, a faint glow caught your attention. You glanced down, finding that shell, that siren’s gift, glowing faintly. And damn him for being right, but that light seemed to travel along your collarbones, threading throughout your very skin.

More. The ocean whispered to you, a lethal voice inside your own mind. More, child.

You shivered, but didn’t have much time to acknowledge the seas unending hunger before the next ship came, then the next.

“Fire!” Tolya shouted, and tugged his arrow back in its bow, straining up, up, up, until he and the rest of the archers on deck sent a volley of lethal arrows towards the enemy. It must’ve hit the man at the wheel, because a second later the ship turned, crashing directly into the one beside it. “Again!”

The enemy advanced one by one, and while the archers fired, as the few Grisha on board did their best to guide the winds so that ships would collide, they still neared. So you worked. You brought wave after crashing wave, your skin growing tight as you sunk one ship, then another, then another. You felt your chest tightening as the bottom of your power approached, and had to grip the rail momentarily as you heaved for a breath.

One ship left. One. Your crew had taken them out, had survived, thanks to the Grisha, the brave pirates beside you, and Sturmhond’s advanced weaponry. Nothing could have prepared you, though, when a bolt shot out from the other ship. When the crew on that ship began to crank your own vessel towards them.

The cord was too far to reach with your sword, so you slammed the bolt with water, trying over and over again to dislodge the deep-rooted point buried in the ship’s side. No. No, no, no. Men began to throw grappling hooks up onto the rail, you and other crew members dashing forward to yank them out as soon as possible. You tugged on one as hard as you could, the damn thing refusing to give, and your mouth dried out when a burly man below you climbed up with inhumane speed.

You barely had time to jerk away as he swung his blade for you, the edge of it coming within lethal distance of your head, but was stopped by another sword that slammed against the pirate’s own with so much force that the man fell back and plunged into the water.

You whirled to Sturmhond; your eyes were wide, heart beating in your chest, and you wouldn’t be lying if you said his face was the most amazing thing you could’ve seen in that moment.

“You need to hide.” He told you, tugging you away from the edge as your crewmates fought every pirate that attempted to board. “Your power is gone. You cant fight like this.”

“I can fight.” You scoffed, but your limbs were indeed weak. You weren’t sure you could lift your sword if you tried. “Let me help.” You urged, meeting his hardened stare, every inch of lover gone. This was only your captain, and a fighter, telling his subordinate a command. “Let me.”

“No.” He growled, an inch from your face, and you didn’t even have enough energy to rage at him. But then his face softened, a single fraction, as he kissed you, hard enough to bruise. And when he pulled back, eyes scanning your face as if to memorize it, he said, “if we survive this, remind me to marry you.”

Your heart stopped, stopped in your chest, and you clutched his shirt tightly, unable to let him go. You only had seconds, but your eyes were shining with tears as you stared up at him.

“Remind me to say yes.” You whispered, a last, desperate promise to the man you loved, and you could only stand there looking pathetic, feeling floored, as he left your side and threw himself into the fight.

You backed away, glancing around the chaotic deck as if looking for a sign from the Saints. You pressed a hand against your chest, begging the voice that had spoken to you since you’d gotten your amplifier, for aid. Please, you pressed your hand harder against it, looking out at the sky, and the sea, and the battle. Please. Please.

No. Was the silent response, and you almost sobbed aloud. You do not need my help.

“Please.” You whispered, this time out loud, the word a lost attempt for aid slipping away on the wind. And so you looked to the fight, trying to steel yourself. You wouldn’t die like a coward. You would not be afraid.

But your cry of fear was genuine when an arrow flew through the darkness, slamming home into one of your crewmates. And then your vision went white as Sturmhond crashed onto the deck, his head cracking violently against the wood.

You weren’t sure if you were exploding. One second you were you, and then you were screaming. Screaming—maybe that was the sound that filled your ears, your head, your heart, and the fighting paused briefly enough that you knew you had been. You strode forward, eyes on Sturmhond, then on the enemy still attempting to climb.

“Get out of my way.” You snarled at Tolya, death incarnate, and dove low enough back into your power that something in you cracked.

And then the biggest wave of your life, angry and hungry, rose in front of your ship. Enemy were already screaming, running, fleeing as best they could. Some even had the audacity to jump into the water, the damned fools. When you sent the wave plummeting down, the audible crack of the prow of the opposite ship was deafening. Pirates screamed, on both sides, as you raged and raged, forcing the ship down, down, down, shoving every pirate, every scrap of debris, onto the ocean floor.

And you held it there, insuring that there were no survivors, before you fell forward to grasp the rail, but not fast enough for your legs to catch you as you blacked out onto the deck.

Your body hurt. Ached. Your hand moved involuntarily to your chest, resting against the shell. The ocean hadn’t lied. And whether She had aided you or not, pushing alongside that last drop of power, you realized you didn’t care. That She allowed someone to wield Her at all was a blessing in itself.

You peeled your eyes open slowly, glancing around Sturmhond’s cabin. It felt like every inch of you had been wrung out to dry. You noticed, though, that your clothes had been changed. Tamar, most likely. And then you saw the body in the bed beside you, his blonde hair rumpled in sleep, as he slept soundly.

You could’ve sobbed, then. You reached out, running a hand as softly as possible against his forehead. He reached up, waking slowly, and grasped your wrist. His thumb ran along your skin as his eyes opened, that wicked blue finding your own.

“Y/N.” He rasped, shifting slightly, then winced. “My future wife.” You ignored the world ending surge of emotion you felt at those words, attempting to prop yourself up on an elbow.

“You were shot.” You whispered, the terrible words unable to rise any louder. “Shot. I thought I’d—” you swallowed. And then you forced away the urge to joke, to say what you didn’t mean. “I thought I’d lost you. It almost killed me.”

“Literally, I hear.” He murmured, groaning low in his throat as he managed to sit up, brow furrowed in concentration. “Took out the—the whole fleet, huh?”

“Not the whole fleet.” You argued. “I almost couldn’t do anything at the end. But then you—and I—” you squeezed your eyes against the tears that threatened when the blankets fell away from his chest and you saw the bandages, the wound that had cut through his shoulder having had barely missed his heart.

And then, damn you, you did weep. You cried as you covered your face, curling into yourself. You doubted that you’d ever forget that damning sound, that crack of his head against the deck. The fear you had felt was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Because you loved him. Loved Sturmhond. And you would’ve gladly allowed your power to kill you if that’s what would’ve saved him.

“Darling, no.” Sturmhond sighed, reaching out with a strained sound to touch your shoulder. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

You managed to calm yourself as you moved over to him, propping yourself up on your knees as your body adjusted to movement. You reached out, running your hands over his face and neck, surprised to see moisture in his own eyes as well. He looped his arms around you, fighting his grimace.

“Did you mean it?” You asked carefully, avoiding glancing down at his wound. “When you said you’d..” False hope was a terrible fate, so you couldn’t finish the sentence.

He craned his neck up a fraction, silently asking for it, and you gave him the soft kiss he wanted. When he pulled away, a line of moisture running down his cheek, you wiped his skin clean.

“Every word.” He said firmly, eyes fierce. “I want to marry you. I don’t want to just be your lover, Y/N. Nor your captain. Your equal.” His eyes trailed to your amplifier, then up. “I knew the first time you took out a ship with that gift that I loved you. That I was in love with you.” He squeezed his eyes shut again as a stab of pain rocked through his shoulder, and his voice was strained when he spoke again. “You could sail…anywhere. A thousand miles from me. And nowhere on this planet could save me from my ties to you. You’re mine. Always.”

You were crying again, embarrassingly enough, and he cracked a half-hearted smile.

“The prospect too upsetting? If you want we can have separate bedrooms.”

“Shut up.” You scoffed, and kissed him again. The moment that man was healed, you were going to ravish him. Then you pulled back, glancing over to the sword resting against the wall, it’s emerald encrusted hilt glinting in the candlelight. “Now, what the hell is all the fuss over that sword?”

He grinned slyly, that smile that always told you when trouble was on the horizon, and tucked you against his chest the best he could throughout his pain. And as he stroked your hair, kissing the top of your head, he spoke.

“Later,” he said, and you felt his grin against your head. “when I’m healed, I’ll tell you. But I’m not in the condition to be punched right now.”

“What?” You demanded, and he laughed, tugging you back down when you tried to sit up.

“Later.” He insisted, and closed his eyes, slipping off into sleep.

hello helloooooo

#this is very pirates of the Caribbean of me #sturmhond x reader #sturmhond the sassy biotch #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #wattpad #shadow and bone imagine #fluff #smut #nikolai lantsov smut #pirates #sturmhond smut

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 1 month

Text

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Part 18

This chapter breaks our record at 3.3k words :O

comment and reblog!

MASTAPOST

Damian awoke from sleep. He felt his body squish underneath the weight of Danny’s. The older boy had insisted the previous night, citing Damian’s body being unable to regulate temperature in the cold water at night. This had Damian begrudgingly agree to this arrangement, although he had made his displeasure very clear.

He tried to push down the comfort it brought him. Tried to focus on other things.

Like the fact that he was riding a whale. An entire whale. He even had a harness tied to his waist to stop him drifting behind, the rope wrapping gently around the mammal’s fins and around its body snugly.

This moment? This moment right here was the highlight of his young life. Unconsciously, his chest rumbled and purred as his heart pounded with affection for the beautiful creature.

The whale called out to its pod. It seemed the boys had landed on the largest of the pod, a female (he had checked) and likely the mother of the younger members. Damian rubbed the whale’s skin in soothing circles, its blubber smooth to the touch. There, there, big girl. You are doing an exemplary job.

Each stroke of the whale’s body, undulating through the sea send small shockwaves down Damian’s lateral line, a testament to the size and power of the world’s largest animals (although not the largest organism. That title belonged to Pando). After a while, the rhythm settled into Damian’s bones, like a second heartbeat.

He would have to paint this moment when he got home.

Damian looked behind him. Danny was still out cold after the extensive swimming they had done. It was worth it, though. If Damian’s estimates were correct, they were only a week or less away from Panama. Danny’s swimming speed was nothing short of incredible. It was almost like he was intangible, gliding through the waves with barely a hint of water resistance. Damian had feared it would take a month or longer to get to Panama, considering a dolphin’s long-distance swim speed was only around ten miles an hour, but Danny’s celestial navigation suggested they’d covered about seven hundred miles by the time they hitched a ride with the whales.

Panama was so close… From there it would be smooth sailing, or swimming.

Until then?

Damian untied the rope harness. How many of his family could claim to swim alongside a pod of whales? Using his small, streamlined body, Damian launched off the leader’s body, and dashed in front of her. Despite himself, he gave her a small wave. The whale cooed. Despite not understanding her call, Damian could feel a wave of affection, like a caress through the water.

Damian glanced back at Danny, still fast asleep and snoring. Good.

Looking back at the whale, he focused on their deep, bellowing tones. Opening his mouth, Damian repeated the call as best he could, although it sounded much, much higher pitched than the original.

Much to his surprise, the pod leader called back. Damian smiled in a rare unfiltered grin. The whale answered him!

That was it. He needed to learn to speak whale at the soonest possible convenience. This was of the utmost importance. As a regular human, his vocal cords could never hope to reproduce the calls of a whale, but as a siren, a unique opportunity was granted to him. And he would take it, as befitting his bloodline.

As he contemplated how he would proceed with this plan, his fins slackened, and he found himself lagging behind as the leader swam past him. Damian watched in awe as her shadow fell over his body. He trailed underneath her white underbelly, catching the currents cast by her massive fins, and counted the colonies of barnacles occupying them.

He swam back to circle around the other members of her pod. The baby whales (there were babies too!) crooned to him, and he responded in turn, not sure of what it meant, but wholeheartedly delighting in taking part of a world he’d once considered closed off to him.

A mischievous baby, one he christened Dorothy, bumped him with her nose. The force sent him rearing back. He took a moment to rebalance himself, before she came back for more, playfully nudging him. Hah! Two could play that game. Damian bopped her on the nose, then dashed away. Dorothy gave chase, but Damian was smaller and nimbler.

He twirled in the water, diving underneath an older whale’s belly as Dorothy nipped at his tail. He went up and over the elder’s back. Damian dashed underneath the larger whale’s dorsal fin. Peeking stealthily over the edge, he spotted Dorothy in a state of apparent confusion as his seeming disappearance into thin air, or water.

Serves her right for challenging a master of stealth.

Damian’s lateral line spiked. He turned around just in time to spot a second baby coming for him. Damian tutted. What an amateur. He would have to show them how to properly chase a target. Using his vertical mobility, he launched upward and out of the way. Dorothy spotted him again, and continued her pursuit. Now with two pursuers, and more joining in, Damian laughed gleefully as he led them in twists and turns, using the larger adults as obstacle courses, much to their chagrin. At least that was what he assumed the annoyed-sounding squeaks were.

As much of a fast learner as Damian was, however, he was still new to his body. Damian’s fins flexed at the wrong angle, and his arms bend too far forward, causing him to overshoot his left turn. The green and golden siren crashed head first into the pod leader, briefly floating belly up as stars flashed in his vision.

Immediately the babies descended upon him. Dorothea nudged his body with her nose, sending him floating into her friend, who passed him to another baby just as quickly. Soon the babies formed a circle as they passed Damian’s limp body between them like a game of volleyball. Their actions unfortunately only exacerbated his dizziness, and after a few rounds, Damian was about to test whether sirens could vomit underwater.

A striking croon filled the water, causing Damian’s fins to spike up. However, it seemed the call wasn’t for him, as the baby whales scattered and returned to their parents. Dorothea chittered and gave him one last bump before returning to her own mother’s side.

Damian slowly regained his faculties. He shook off the last of the nausea. That could have been dangerous. They were wild animals, and could have seriously injured him. His father would have been furious.

And he wanted to do it again.

“Yo, Damian!” Danny’s voice called out.

Damian flipped his tail and returned to their miniature mobile campsite in a blur. Danny was snacking on some fish from their last raid. Damian frowned. Their food stashes were already running low.

“Breakfast?” Danny offered him a bundle of seaweed, or kelp. It had a pale yellow colour and sported round sacks along its stems, like bladderwrack.

Damian poked warily at the plant matter. They did not pack this in their supplies. “What is this?”

“It’s sargassum. Plant stuff that floats on the surface. Come try it!”

Damian squinted. He found his stomach stronger than it was as a human, capable of eating untreated raw fish (as much as he would rather not) without so much as a stomach ache.

Damian look a strip of sargassum, feeling the texture between webbed fingers. It was slightly slimy, but soft. He poked one of the bladders, causing its air bubble to pop and float to the surface. As he thought.

“If you’re not gonna eat that, I will. I just swam 700 freaking miles and I’m staaaarving.” Danny whined, a childish gesture.

Damian threw it down the hatch. It tasted… salty (but what didn’t taste salty in the ocean?). The texture was tolerable enough. It was no Caesar salad, or Pennyworth’s casserole, but it would do.

“Hand it over.” Damian gestured for the rest of the plant, and his companion obliged.

Damian chewed absentmindedly as he watched Danny unfurl the map they had ‘acquired’ from the Atlanteans. “So we’re somewhere here.” Danny pointed to a spot in the middle of the blue sea, just off the coast of California. “If we keep going south, we’ll be in Mexican waters, and then it’s smooth swimming to Panama.”

A lump of air pushed up his throat. Damian burped. The beginnings of a snicker were on Danny’s face. The smaller boy held his head high, choosing the high road this time, and maintaining dignity.

“As you were saying?”

“AHEM.” Danny coughed. “We’ve got a bit of a food problem.”

He held up the satchels that they had been using to store their provisions. It was worse than Damian had thought. The bags were practically empty, with maybe a snack and a half between all of them.

He chewed on another stalk of sargassum. Its bubbles popped in his mouth and exited through his nose.

“You cannot swim long distances without sustenance.” Energy could not come from nowhere, after all. The same rules applied for many metas, especially the infamous Flash family. They had left their last stop with bundles of supplies, quickly consumed in the matter of hours.

“We need to hunt again.” Danny concluded. “And get some more seaweed.”

Tut. Damian’s fins drooped a fraction of an inch. It was a shame to leave the whales behind already, but they were always going to go off on their separate paths. He just wished they could stay a little longer.

Danny shifted his sitting position. “To be honest, I’m still getting cramps in my tail. 700 miles.” He said breathlessly. “I never knew I had it in me.”

“So our goal is to recuperate, and resupply.” More quality time with the whales! A couple air bubbles slid out from underneath his gills, the ticklish sensation sending him shuddering.

“Yeah pretty much. Now if you don’t mind me, I’m gonna take another nap.” His companion curled up into a large circle, using his tailfin and arms as a pillow, and closed his eyes.

Damian gaped open. “But you just woke up!”

“700 miles, Damian. 700 miles. We can hunt when I wake up.” With that, Danny was out like a light. Even Damian nipping at his sail could not convince the teenager to awaken.

Damian turned around. The baby whales had returned, hovering just out of reach, apparently having been watching the conversation aptly. He supposed this arrangement had its benefits. Damian whistled, and launched off again.

Satellites.

Her parents had fucking satellites.

That answered how they were going to track Danny. Jazz stared wide-eyed at the computer screen on the deck of the SAV, showing a digital rendition of the entire globe. Off the coast California, about a thousand miles south of their current location, a dot blinked black and white. Jazz’s blood went cold. They had her brother’s hydro-signature. They could track him wherever he went. There would be no hiding, except by turning back into a human, but how could she tell him? And how could he accomplish that goal in the middle of the sea?

Jazz could only gape slack-jawed while her father ranted endlessly about their new radar system, a genius innovation created by her mother in just a day. Isn’t she amazing, Brucie? I’ve got the most beautiful, brilliant wife in the world. Just look at the wiring in this baby.

Bruce Wayne nodded dumbly, remaining silent for the most part, occasionally scratching his head and asking a question. He was listening very intently. No one else could hope to endure her father’s rants. She’d seen very strong-willed individuals awkwardly make excuses and shuffle away, only to be roped back in at the last second. No. Bruce Wayne wanted to be here, and he wanted to learn everything he could.

She imagined thousands of drones printed with WE logos scouring the ocean for a scared teenage boy. No Jazz, no catastrophising. She took steady deep breaths, and counted things she could feel with each sensation.

She needed to focus on what she had to power to do right here and right now. The positives: her parents had very wisely chosen not to sell their most useful tech to the GiW. Her mother never trusted them, and her father was still upset at the government organisation for not having recognised them earlier in their career.

That meant no agents in white suits going after her brother, assuming he’d managed to lose them (which was likely).

Her parents also believed she was here to hunt Phantom. That was another positive.

Their new tech had been whipped up in a fever dream-like haze over the course of two days or less.

That meant an easy excuse if any of them malfunctioned.

The bad news? Bruce Wayne could possibly sniff her out, and snitch on her to her parents. That would severely limit her ability to slow them down.

She turned back as her dad began showing off their miniature sonars, eagerly boasting of their range and precision. Bruce Wayne nodded, and asked about their hardware. How they overcame issues with affecting marine life, how they could compact it into such a small case.

That was good news. Arguably. She did not very much like the idea of the world’s richest man funding a crusade against an entire species. But infallible he was not, and all she needed was plausible deniability and a distraction to grant her brother hours. Even days, assuming she even could distract the enigmatic billionaire. There was the very public, very visible himbo dummy persona. What lay underneath the skin was another story entirely.

Then there was the question of how she would even know what to do in the first place. If she just took a wrench and started whacking, it would be made extremely clear who was responsible. If she wasn’t careful, she might even sink the boat. And she refused to put her family in danger. Jazz was going to do this right, and make sure everyone got home safe.

That meant she would need help.

“I’m getting a little dizzy, guys. I’ll head to my room if that’s ok.” She told the conversing men. Their goodbyes floated in the space behind her, distant to her ears.

She entered her little cabin in the SAV. Well, it was her and Danny’s, but for now she was alone. Jazz closed the door shut and locked it. The cabin consisted of a comfortable bunkbed and two desks for the both of them, as well as a (heavily reinforced) window looking out into the vast blue sea. Although not as densely decorated as her room at Fentonworks, it still carried personal affects dotting around its shelves and walls. A picture of Danny’s first beach day here. A photo of them fishing in Hawaii there. An old scented candle sat at the desk, a relic from when she’d tried to get the smell of fish off the SAV when she was ten.

Jazz had no time to waste. Her mother had noted off-handedly that they were already going a hundred miles an hour. That was insane. They’d catch up with Danny within the day.

Jazz calmed her nerves, and collected herself. She swept the room for bugs and listening devices, something her father had taught her once to ward off the feds. Something told her the screaming IRS agent running away from her house did that plenty, but that was neither here nor there. Once done, she threw the sheets off the bunk beds. The mattresses came off and found a new place shoved up against the wall. As sound-proofed as she could make her room, Jazz recited opening lines in her head.

She pulled out her phone, and dialed. It was time to bust the hatch open.

“Hello?”

“Hello Mrs Foley!”

“Jazz! It’s great to hear from you. I’m so sorry about Danny, I-”

Jazz cut her off. “Actually, about that. Can I please speak to Tucker? I’d like to have a word with him.”

A pause. “Sweetie. Tucker’s been grounded until further notice.” Mrs Foley’s voice ground out at the last two words. It didn’t seem pretty for Danny’s friends.

“I know, but this is urgent.” Jazz stressed.

“He supported Phantom, Jazz. My baby boy committed computer crime for that monster. I just- I just don’t know what’s going on. No. Tucker needs to serve his punishment. And then after- after- after that I don’t know.”

“I know you’re in shock, Mrs Foley. So am I. But have you considered that he might be in grief, too?”

The line went quiet.

“Danny isn’t just my little brother. He’s Tucker’s best friend in the whole world. Tucker’s an honorary little brother to me. Doesn’t he deserve to know what’s going on with him?”

Mrs Foley took a moment of silent deliberation, and sighed. “You’ve got a way with words, Jazz. Fine. I’ll call him down.”

“Oh, and Mrs Foley? Can we have a bit of privacy as well? I think Tucker will need some space for this conversation.”

A minute later, Tucker showed up as promised. “Oh sweet technology. How I’ve missed you so…”

He sounded tired. Incredibly tired, despite his open relief about being able to touch a phone. Not only that, but it sounded inauthentic. Almost performative. “Tucker, stop caressing the phone. I have news about Danny.”

Tucker’s breath hitched. “Do you know where he is?”

Jazz took a deep breath, forcing her shoulders to relax. The moment of truth. “I know what happened to him.”

“Jazz I swear Phantom had nothing to do with it, you gotta-,”

“No Tucker. I’m talking about six months ago.” Jazz looked behind her, listening for any footsteps outside her door. “I saw him in the water three months ago. I saw him changing.”

Her brother’s life was at stake. She chose her words very, very carefully, as vague as possible.

Tucker gasped. “W-what do you mean? D-Danny goes swimming all the time. Wait a minute-”

The line went dead. Panic threatened to tilt Jazz off course. Did she just blow her only chance? No. Think rationally. Tucker was a smart kid. A genius with tech. He probably realised anyone could listen in on his house’s landline. That boy went through PDAs like old clothes; he had to have a few burners spare.

Her phone rang again, and Jazz could have cried in relief.

“What are you gonna do with Danny’s secret?” Tucker hissed, accusation plainly audible.

“My parents have a radar to track him across the world. They have a dozen new weapons to fire on him with. They have an engine that can accelerate the SAV to a max speed of 200 miles an hour. I need you to tell me how to sabotage each and every one of them.”

Tucker choked on the line. “You s-serious?” He said, nakedly vulnerable, like she was about to pull the rug out at the last moment.

“Danny’s my little brother. I’d do anything for him. And I’ve always critiqued my parents’ obsessions as unhealthy. Tucker, I don’t know what half of this stuff does. You’re my only hope. You’re Danny’s only hope.”

Her honorary little brother gulped. When he spoke next, it was like his resolve had been dipped in liquid steel. “I’m right on it.”

She heard thunderous clacking through the line. It looked like Mrs Foley’s punishment was not as airtight as the woman thought it was…

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