#lol have a mermay twist

[happybird16]

•Chapter One•

Naga!Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader

Summary: Growing up, the forest's edge always darkened the far corner of your small village. The giant, twisted branches overhead rendered the forest floor a terrifying, pitch black. You shouldn't be here. There's creatures here, dangerous ones.

Overall warnings: Past references to child abuse, blood, scars, gore, mystery, eventual sex, inhuman genitalia (Levi is a snake man), horror vibes.

Chapter warnings: Horror vibes, mystery

Chapter length: 3.7k

Ao3 Link

The most special of shoutouts to my beloved friend and beta @theferricfox!!!! Also, credit to @the-milk-anon for the snake banner!!

Note: Welcome to my spin on Mermay! I have roughly 7/12 chapters done-ish for this! Comments and reblogs are always welcome!! I could use the inspo to continue lol!

Next chapter

You shouldn't be here.

Giant, ancient trees tower above, their twisted and gnarled branches interwoven to create a dense, impenetrable canopy that blankets the ground in an engulfing darkness. These colossal trees are so massive that even ten people, hand in hand, would struggle to encircle their trunks. In the face of such enormity, you feel minuscule, like a tiny mouse in a vast expanse, overshadowed by the towering branches that stretch higher than anything you've ever witnessed.

In your childhood, the edge of this forest marked the distant boundary of your small village. As young children, you and your friends would engage in daring games, cautiously venturing beneath the green canopy one foot at a time. Each step toward the darkness held a thrill, with adrenaline surging in your ears and laughter bubbling in your throat. You remember playfully nudging each other to go deeper, whispering tales of monsters until the alarmed cries of someone's parents would bring the game to an abrupt halt. It was all innocent play, a group of children tempting danger and challenging one another to venture further into the ominous jaws of the forest.

The Maw.

Now, every step forward fills you with an overwhelming sense of dread. The childlike wonder that once fueled your adventures has vanished, replaced by a pounding heart lodged in your throat. The once enticing forest now instills a deep sense of apprehension and unease.

You're in The Maw.

It's named such because it is a place that devours all who dare to venture into its depths. It teems with perilous creatures, their forms etched in your mind with vivid clarity—claws that rend, teeth that tear, and the sight of crimson blood staining the ground. The inhabitants of this forsaken realm include both savage beasts and eerie abominations, a chilling blend of half-human hybrids, demons, and towering giants. While rare for these creatures to stray beyond the forest's edge into your humble farming village, the disappearances of unsuspecting villagers were all too frequent. Vanished without a trace, they would be snatched from their beds in the dead of night or plucked from the fields in broad daylight. Some incidents left behind gruesome remnants of carnage, while others left nothing but an eerie absence. The Maw's hunger was insatiable, claiming lives and leaving a haunting sense of dread in its wake.

“F-ffuck,” you stutter, fighting against a stiff breeze to keep the hood of your cloak tight to your ears. It's cold. Fucking freezing actually. With each labored step, your body fights against the biting cold that gnaws at your skin. The hood of your cloak strains against the relentless wind, desperate to shield your ears from its icy grip. The weather has turned unforgiving since you entered the forest.

What began as a serene sunrise, painting the sky with hues of pink and yellow, has given way to a harsh reality. The gentle dusting of snow beneath your feet has transformed into a thick, heavy flurry. The temperature has plummeted, sending shards of icy pain with every breath you take. The bone-chilling cold seeps into your very core, inflicting aches that reverberate through your entire being. Each step is an agonizing struggle, your weary knees protesting with every creak. It feels as though you've never walked this far before, the physical toll becoming increasingly demanding with each passing moment.

Can't go back. Can't go back.

In the relentless darkness, your sense of time has become distorted, making it impossible to gauge how long you've been journeying through this treacherous forest. It feels like hours, perhaps even most of a day, has passed since you first set foot on this path. The initial signs of caution marked your entry into this perilous realm, with wooden boards warning of the impending danger, are long behind you. The words "Turn Back" and "Danger" were hastily scrawled in bright red, urging you to reconsider your course. The last sign you recall, which feels like an eternity ago, ominously proclaimed "Death Ahead."

The biting cold has taken its toll, numbing your body and rendering your toes distant and fuzzy within the confines of your leather boots. The wind howls in your ears, drowning out all other sounds, but occasionally you catch the panicked shuffling of small creatures seeking refuge from the tempest. Every noise, no matter how faint, puts you on edge, heightening your anxiety with each passing moment. Progress becomes increasingly arduous as you press forward, battling against the biting cold and the relentless forces of nature.

The oppressive darkness seems to intensify the longer the day drags on, engulfing your surroundings and adding to your growing fatigue. You struggle to maintain your balance, feeling the weight of exhaustion in every step. The biting cold cuts through your clothing, seeping into your bones, and you tightly wrap your coat around yourself in a feeble attempt to shield against the frigid air.

With determination in your voice, you mutter to yourself, "Can't go back. Can't go back." Despite the numbing cold and the seemingly endless journey, turning back is not an option. You press on, summoning whatever strength remains within you.

As you trudge forward, a brief break in the dense canopy allows a glimpse of the sky above. However, there is no welcoming sight of an evening sky with its fading hues. Instead, a tumultuous scene unfolds with dark and furious clouds obscuring any sense of time. In the distance, the white-capped peaks of The Spine stand resolute, yet seemingly no closer than when you first embarked on this arduous trek. Doubt begins to creep in, and you repeat to yourself, "I can't. I can't."

But you have to. Of course there'd be a storm. Just your luck.

The bitter cold continues to gnaw at your body, its icy grip sapping your strength and resolve. Hopefully the weather convinced any hungry mouths to stay home. The storm raging around you adds to the foreboding atmosphere, amplifying your sense of vulnerability. You can’t help but feel a sense of grim irony that the weather itself might be the cause of your demise before any of the lurking dangers within The Maw.

Navigating through the labyrinthine depths of The Maw is no easy feat, especially without a clear destination in mind. The absence of a guide or a map leaves you relying solely on your instincts and determination. The path ahead remains shrouded in darkness, and uncertainty tugs at your thoughts. You don't even know where the fuck you're going.

Despite the doubts and the physical strain, you carry on, propelled by a mix of resilience and desperation. The legacy of fear and caution instilled by your village only adds to the weight on your shoulders, reminding you of the countless tales of those who ventured deeper into this forbidden territory and never returned.

The heavy snow has engulfed your legs, reaching up past your shins and creeping closer to your knees. Each step is an arduous struggle, accompanied by a resounding crunch and leaving behind a trail of deep boot prints in the snow.

The words escape your lips in a desperate whisper, “Shelter. Need to find shelter.” Your teeth chatter uncontrollably, and you hunch your shoulders in a futile attempt to shield yourself from the biting wind that threatens to knock you off balance. The hood of your cloak is pulled down as far as it can go, obscuring your vision, and you strain to see the path ahead. Forward is the only option. Forward is the only way to endure.

The Spine dominates your thoughts, an unwavering destination that holds the key to your quest. It is the mountain range at the heart of The Maw, and you must reach its base. There is no turning back, no retreat, not unless you find them.

The weight of the task ahead feels insurmountable, overwhelming you with a crushing sense of impossibility. The magnitude of the journey, coupled with the harsh realities of The Maw, fuels a nagging belief that survival is unattainable. The specter of death looms ominously, casting its dark shadow over your thoughts.

You're going to die out here.

An abrupt sound shatters the eerie silence, reverberating through the desolate expanse of The Maw. It resonates with a weight that sends shivers down your spine, amplifying your sense of unease. Instinctively, your hand reaches for the knife attached to your belt loop, its familiar weight grounding you in this perilous moment. It was your fathers hunting knife, the only thing you have left besides the clothes on your back and a small bit of supplies in your bag.

As your fingers clasp around the knife’s handle, a surge of adrenaline courses through your veins, mingling with the cold that permeates the air. The tremor in your hand betrays a mix of fear and the biting chill that surrounds you. Your grip tightens, seeking solace in the solid presence of the blade as you brace yourself for whatever lurks in the darkness.

Someone -something- curses in the distance. The distant swear cuts through the air, resonating with a chilling familiarity that freezes your very core. It echoes with a human quality, evoking haunting memories of voices that once whispered from the edge of The Maw during your childhood summers. Those beguiling voices, whether belonging to silver-tongued demons or ravenous wendigos, possessed a deceptive innocence, luring the unwary towards their perilous embrace. They wore the guise of familiarity, mimicking loved ones and casting their sinister spell.

But this time, the sound does not persist. It does not morph into the soothing tones of your mother's voice or the mischievous giggles of your younger brother. Instead, an unsettling silence descends upon the forest, amplifying the eerie stillness that pervades the surroundings. The once-constant symphony of rustling leaves and distant whispers is replaced by an oppressive hush, broken only by the howling wind that pierces your ears.

The skeletal branches of the ancient trees loom ahead, their gnarled forms resembling bony fingers reaching out in a macabre invitation. The forest, now stripped of its foliage, feels even more sinister, as if the very essence of its secrets and lurking dangers is concentrated in this barren landscape. Your instincts scream at you to tread cautiously, to be alert to the unseen perils that may lie in wait within the shadows.

Prey.

You have the sudden, panicky realization that you’re prey. The thought builds a solid, uncomfortable itch between your shoulder blades. Every fiber of your being trembles with the realization that you are nothing more than some predator's next quarry in this treacherous domain. The weight of vulnerability settles upon you like a suffocating shroud, your senses heightened to the point of hypersensitivity. There could be something hungry watching you in the distance, just waiting for you to tire yourself out. The notion of unseen eyes fixated upon your weary form fuels a primal panic, evoking a primal fight-or-flight response deep within your core.

Your fingers, numbed by the biting cold, clench around the knife, its presence offering a meager reassurance in this harrowing moment. With determined resolve, you steady your breathing, allowing each inhalation to calm your racing heart. One deliberate step at a time, you advance through the snow-laden terrain, your movements slow and measured, as if treading upon fragile ice.

Every crunch of snow beneath your boots feels deafening, resonating through the wintry silence. The haunting stillness amplifies the tension, heightening the suspense as you inch closer to the source of the disturbance.

It's a man, slumped against the trunk of a massive tree, his body partly concealed by the swiftly accumulating snow. As you cautiously draw nearer, you observe his disheveled state, lying motionless on his side. Your attention is immediately drawn to his coat, a patchwork of furs and skins stitched together from different animals. The garment stands out as peculiar, though it appears to provide warmth in this frigid environment.

There's someone else out here? The presence of another person this far into The Maw surprises you. Something along the back of your mind flares red in warning, reminding you of the possibility that this could be a trap. With this warning at the back of your thoughts, you proceed with caution, prepared for any untoward situation that may arise.

Knife held steady, you kneel next to his form. The snow immediately soaks through the material of your pants, burning cold against your skin.

With your knife still in hand, you carefully lower yourself beside the man, the icy snow seeping through your pants and chilling your skin. “Hey,” you call quietly, eyes assessing the stranger's face.

The thought crosses your mind: What if he's in a situation similar to yours? Lost and vulnerable in this treacherous wilderness, in desperate need of assistance?

Despite being unconscious, the man continues to shiver uncontrollably. His trembling is so intense that it causes the snow around him to tremble as well. The exposed patches of skin beneath his peculiar coat are inflamed, their bright pink hue indicative of discomfort. His features appear slack, his hair splayed out against the snowy ground, forming a stark contrast of black against white. You observe that his lips have taken on a slight bluish tint. Worry grips your heart as you implore, "Hey, you need to wake up. We have to get you up."

With mounting urgency, you observe the man's lack of response as his head remains nestled in the snow, becoming adorned with a delicate layer of white flakes. The sound of the knife slipping back into its sheath echoes softly, as your hands instinctively reach out to press against the stranger's shoulders in a desperate attempt to rouse him. "Hey, come on!" you plead.

Although his chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath, indicating that he is indeed alive, you still place a finger on his neck to feel for a pulse. It's slow, alarmingly sluggish compared to your own racing heartbeat. "Fuck! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" you chant urgently, slapping his cheeks with your gloved fingers. His skin feels unnaturally cold, even through the protective layer of your gloves.

As the man's eyes flutter open, his brow furrows with confusion, and he mumbles something barely audible. His head lolls back into the snow, and he shifts, his elbow digging into the snowy ground.

"Hey, hi. That's it. Look at me," you urge, your voice filled with a mix of concern and determination. You grasp his shoulders and gently tug, trying to encourage him to sit up. "Come on, you can't stay here. You need to get up. Is there somewhere warm nearby?"

His eyes finally open fully, revealing a glimpse of gray irises before they quickly close again. "No, no, no, come on!" you implore, cupping the base of his skull with one hand and using your other hand to deliver a firm but gentle slap to his cheek, attempting to bring him back to consciousness.

If he's here, there must be some sort of human settlement nearby. Somewhere warm and safe.

As you contemplate the possibility, your attention is abruptly drawn to your left by a movement in the snow. Panic grips you as you witness something massive and black emerging from beneath a thick layer of white.

"F-Fuck!" you scream, unable to contain your shock and fear. Your eyes widen as you realize it's a colossal snake tail, stretching out straight and partially buried in the snow. The unexpected sight causes you to lose your balance, and you fall back onto the cold ground, landing on your backside. "What the fuck!" you exclaim, your voice filled with a mix of terror and disbelief.

He's a Naga. An actual Naga, half snake half man. You've only heard of them in legends, tales whispered back and forth among the children of your village. Even in the darkness of the forest, his black scales glitter up at you like diamonds.

Stuck in your awe, now waist deep in the snow, you're suddenly reminded just how cold it is. Even with excited adrenaline making your limbs all jittery and sweaty, it's still freezing. The snow is falling more rapidly now, wind whistling through the trees to twist and warp their smaller branches.

Surging forward onto your knees, you move to cup his face yet again, intending to continue your prodding. If only you could get him up, he could save you both.

“Hsssssssh,” he hisses at you, teeth bared. His head doesn't rise, resting heavy in the snow, but a jaw full of sharp fangs widens in full aggressive display right next to your hand. Silvery eyes suddenly wide and alert, he glares up at you with a vicious heat, flaring a pointed tongue out to taste the air. “Hhhuman,” his nose curls up at the word.

The sight of his long, white incisors strikes cold fear into your heart. It brings you pause, fingers trembling against his pale cheek. “H-hey,” you start shakily, struggling to meet his gaze. His pupils are sharp, the thin pin prick lines of a predator. When he blinks, a thin translucent membrane precedes the eyelid, startlingly inhuman. You pause for a moment, your fingers still trembling against his pale cheek. Despite the fear coursing through you, you muster the courage to speak, your voice quivering. Meeting his gaze, you try to convey empathy and urgency.

“Hey,” you stutter, your voice barely audible as you try again. “I understand you’re wary, but we can’t stay here. It’s dangerously cold. We need to find shelter. Please, let’s get up and find somewhere warm.”

“Cold,” he repeats with a hiss. Claws dig into the snow by your knee. He blinks heavily, struggling, “Why…”

He’s clearly disoriented, prompting you to speak slowly and gently, trying to guide him to sit up.

“Come on! We need to find somewhere nearby, somewhere warm,” you encourage, tugging at his shoulders in an attempt to rouse him from his daze.

“Warm,” he mutters, eyes fluttering with a vague sense of recognition. Slowly, he rises, causing his magnificent, 20-foot-long tail to shake off the snowy coating. Its pitch-black scales glisten in the dim light, an awe-inspiring sight. “Nest.”

“Do you live somewhere nearby?” you inquire, keeping a close eye on his movements. Once he manages to prop himself up on the bend of his tail, he leans heavily against your side, almost toppling you over. With one hand on his back for support, you guide him forward, urging him to lead the way.

“Where is your nest?” you ask, hoping he can direct you to a warm and safe place nearby.

"Cave," he slurs, his voice muffled against your neck. As he stands upright, you realize he's slightly shorter than you. His heavy eyes close and open, struggling to stay alert. He trembles against your side, his senses keen as he tastes the air once more. "Human. Don't need your help."

The mention of a cave ignites a spark of hope within you. If there's a cave, it must be located on the edge of The Spine, nestled among the rocks on the mountainside. With renewed determination, you wrap your arm around his back, fingers pressing gently into the small of his waist. "Come on. Can you guide me there?" you implore, relying on his knowledge to find the refuge you both desperately need.

“Mhmmm,” he mutters nonsensically as his face burrows into the warmth of your neck, his cold nose pressing against your collarbone. He doesn’t respond to your question, instead leaning heavily against your side. “Warm.”

“Hey hey,” you pat his hip, trying to pull him forward as you take a step forward. “Don't fall asleep again. Come on, move with me.” He does, tail sliding back and forth through the snow behind your huddled forms.

The progress is slow and arduous, each step a struggle as you practically drag him forward through the snow. The falling snow obscures your vision, but you spot a faint path ahead, partially covered by fresh snowfall. The wide trail left by his tail serves as a guide, leading you deeper into the wintry landscape.

"Come on, almost there," you urge, your voice strained. The weight of his body feels overwhelming, causing your bones to protest with each movement. The biting cold sears your face and ears, and the wetness on your pants becomes a painful reminder of the freezing temperatures. You can only imagine the suffering the man at your side endures. His fur coat, now soaked through, adds to his misery, and you feel his trembling against your side. How long has he been out here, exposed to the elements?

Throughout the entire journey, the Naga’s delirious muttering continues against your neck. His words are incoherent, mixed with occasional hisses and the repeated mention of warmth. You even feel the wet brush of his forked tongue against your skin at one point. He clings to you, one arm draped across your back, fingers digging into your far hip.

“There we go,” you gasp, the strain evident in your heaving chest as you continue pulling him forward. The physical exertion keeps you warm, though having sweat-soaked clothes in the midst of the storm is far from ideal. As you near the base of The Spine, the path grows more treacherous. The rugged terrain, with its sharp rocks and hidden crevices beneath the thick snow, demands careful navigation. Each step becomes a deliberate effort, further slowing your progress.

The winds howl fiercely, swirling the snow around you in a blinding flurry. It’s difficult to keep your bearings, but you know you can’t afford to stop. The cave must be near, offering the possibility of respite from the harsh elements. You cling to that thought, pushing through the exhaustion and pain.

After what feels like an eternity, you catch sight of a dark opening nestled among the rocks. It's the cave you've been searching for. Relief floods through you, pushing you forward with renewed determination. With every ounce of energy you can muster, you guide the Naga towards the entrance. It's camouflaged amidst the snow-covered rocks, barely noticeable. The opening is a narrow crack in the cliff side, just wide enough for you to squeeze through.

You pull him in behind you, tugging at his arm. He manages to squeeze himself inside, and the moment he fully enters the warm cavern, he succumbs to unconsciousness.

[idril-la-wiccan]

Mermay 2023 - 1st Week

Day 1 - Self Portrait

I don't think this needs much explanation, it's exacly what it says on the tin. It's me as a mermaid. An octopus mermaid since I have a big affinity for octpi.

Day 2 - Upside Down

Because of another prompt later down the line, I had a word assiciation with it that lead me to "Oooh ! Tarot cards !".

The card of the "Hanged Man" was perfect for this prompt here since it's typically depicted by a man hanging upside down.

Day 3 - Twisted // feat. Azul Ashengrotto ?

This one was hard to get an idea for. I immediately thought of "Twisted Wonderland" and maybe drawing Azul and/or the Leech twins but I had no concrete idea.

Then I remembered I had that old drawing I never finished of a very, VERY, monstrous form of overblot Azul.

So you could say I twisted him even further like that. =)

Day 4 - Star Wars // feat. the Slime Girls

I haven't seen Star Wars in forever. Like, I only was a kid when I saw the first two trilogies, and I never saw the new trilogy either.

But having characters discussing of it seemed like a fun idea !

Marina is VERY enthusiastic at the idea of watching the movies. Like, really ! WARS ! IN SPACE !!! Sounds fun, no ?

Molly is criticising the concept of the lightsabers because those look like some kind of lasers, but lasers don't work like that !

Medusa is just unsure if she'd like any of it...

Day 5 - Cinco de Mayo

I don't know much about Mexican history, and even after looking up what it is about, inspiration didn't really strike.

But you know what did ? The colourful dresses Mexican dancers wear during festivities ! So I made a mermaid inspired by these. I must say I'm proud of the result !

Day 6 - Mushroom

I though the idea of a mushroom mermaid was fun, that's really all there is to it, lol.

Day 7 - Merfairy // feat. Sea Fairy Cookie

Look, she fits the theme, you can't say she doesn't, right ? She may not have wings, but she's still a fairy. A fairy of the sea.

Besides, I'm happy with the result ! I think it might be the first time I've drawn her ? Or at least, it's the first time I made a coloured digital rendering of her !

In fact, oddly enough, I don't think I had realised how beautiful she is until I finished that drawing...

*****

|| Second week ~*

Buy me a coffee ?

[loki-n-thedoctor]

🏴‍☠️

(For your ocs, because the prompt asked for specification lol)

AYYYY HI HI I did have a pirate/mermaid au but it's so old I don't remember its plot now anymore lmao but I think in one version of it Ryland was a sailor (and a merman??) and Tim was a merman who saved him and he was also hunted by pirates(cue Howard as a pirate captain but that would make him look way too cool so ig he could be some kraken yeah he can be a kraken,, or maybe bot h for a plot twist hmm), so it was just a tim/ryland based au but I would definitely love to make it abt other characters too thinking emoji

I definitely need to reboot it or just make a new one completely and I haven't really drawn anything for mermay this year rip

[solangelover]

AUctober: Day 2 - Pirates

Mermaid/Pirate AU

For @solangeloweek AUctober and to continue my AU!

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | --

Read on AO3 or FF.Net

A/N: You all loved this fic so much (and tbh I read it back and impressed myself lol), so I’ve been wanting to continue for a while! I had like half of this in MerMay, so I finally finished lol. I have a rough chaptered plan buuuut we’ll see!

Will could practically feel the nervous energy of his fellow shipmates right outside the infirmary door. They all tried looking casual, but he saw many people try to peek in through the tiny door window to get a glimpse of what was going on inside.

After all, no one ever thought they’d meet a mermaid.

Well, merman was the proper term (merboy?), but still. Merpeople existed. They’d seen a lot of crazy things out at sea, but they never actively sought out mythical creatures—those things usually came to them anyway. So, no one was surprised, per say, but everyone was definitely curious.

“Grover, Will,” Captain Percy began as he entered the room. “Talk to me.”

Will was finishing his preliminary check of the merboy—Nico, Will reminded himself—though his limited knowledge of merpeople anatomy and physiology was not enough to fully assess Nico’s condition. Grover had come to help at the captain’s request. He had a way with all kinds of creatures, animal or mythical, though usually the non-humanoid kind. He had not done much so far besides smile, but Nico seemed to be more at ease with significantly less people crowding around him.

“Captain,” Will began, still looking at his clipboard as he finished writing notes down. “I’ve just completed assessing Nico’s condition. I don’t know much about his kind, but Nico agreed to receiving more assistance and that he could help fill in knowledge gaps.”

“Oh!” Percy was pleasantly surprised at the merboy’s cooperation. He looked past Will toward the boy on the cot, no longer cooped up in a cage. He smiled at him, earning him a scowl in return.

Nothing fazed the fearless captain, however, as he addressed the merboy. “That’s great news! I hope our doctor here can heal most of your wounds. He’s pretty good at it.” Percy smirked as he cast his eyes toward his best friend. “I also hope Grover did something helpful. He’s probably the nicest person aboard this ship.”

Grover sputtered at the compliment, spitting out, “I didn’t do anything! I mean—I just—I’m just, here to help.” He rubbed his neck, slightly embarrassed as he smiled bashfully at Nico.

Nico nodded at the human. He did seem kind, in a different way from the golden-haired boy that was helping him. The first boy had darker-colored eyes, though not as dark as Nico’s own. But the second boy, the “doctor,” apparently, had bright eyes—the color of the ocean as light filtered in from above. They seemed to sparkle in the same way, too. That actually comforted Nico the most. Before, he would have lashed out and quickly made his escape back into the sea, just as he’d imagined doing on the other ship. But here, the boy with ocean-blue eyes made him feel… not safe, not yet, but safer than he’s felt in a while.

And, now that Nico was looking at the captain of this new ship, he noticed that his eyes were similar. If the doctor, Will, had eyes blue like the deeper parts of the ocean, the captain’s eyes were the color of shallower areas, with green hues mixed in with the blue. Again, it made him feel safe in a way that the cruel, pale blue eyes of his captor had not.

Still, Nico didn’t plan on staying for long. He believed these humans had good intentions, at least as far as healing him went. But beyond that… Nico wouldn’t stick around to find out what they planned to do with him.

Will was going on to say some things about Nico’s condition that Nico himself didn’t fully understand. While he had always been curious about the human language and hung around ships to understand some things, his vocabulary was limited.

“… Anyway, I think I should keep him here for a few days to be sure he heals up okay.” Nico’s head whipped up to stare at the back of Will’s head. A few days was… more than he had anticipated.

Percy nodded, glancing up when he saw Nico move. The bandages on Will’s arm were noticeable, especially considering that Will himself didn’t get hurt very often. Percy was wary of leaving him alone with the merboy. Though the scumbag they rescued him from was vile and cowardly, he might have had the creature locked up for a reason. But after his initial strike, Nico hadn’t moved to hurt anyone outside of scowling and glaring viciously. Plus, he trusted Will’s judgement.

Percy took a step toward the cot, not venturing too close but showing that he wasn’t afraid of the kid. “Nico, right?” The merboy nodded once. “Nico, I’m truly sorry that you were captured and hurt on that other ship, but on my ship, we’re all friendly. I’m sure you don’t trust us yet, and that’s totally fine and understandable. But please know that we will do whatever we can to help you out. After Will gives the ‘okay’ on your health, we’ll take you where you need to go. Got me?” Percy had no idea if Nico was fluent in their language or not, but he hoped his message got across properly.

Nico sat there for a moment, both surprised and suspicious at the man’s words. He stared into those sea-green eyes, coming to the conclusion that, at least for now, his words were genuine. Nico nodded once more, then cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he sounded out carefully, hoping that was the proper usage.

Percy smiled immediately, big and bright. “Okay!” He turned and clapped Grover and Will on the shoulder. “Will, I’m trusting you to fix up our friend, alright?”

“Aye, captain.”

“Grover, I could use your help relaying our situation to the rest of the crew. Tell Kayla and Austin to come in and give Will a hand as needed.”

“Aye Aye, captain.”

“And Nico,” Percy glanced back over his shoulder before heading out, locking eyes with the merboy once more. “Please be nice to the good doctor. He’s the best we’ve got.” And with that, the two friends stepped out and shut the door behind them.

Will swallowed nervously, glancing at Nico, who was still staring at the closed door. Though Grover had not done much, his presence did ease Will’s nerves and allowed him to focus on assessing Nico’s condition. Now that they were alone, however, Will really had time to process the fact that he was here, with a mermaid, acting as his healer. He just shook his head. What a life I have, is all he could think.

He cleared his throat, effectively gaining Nico’s attention as he whipped back towards him, dark eyes boring into Will’s own. “Um, so, your condition is… not great,” he began oh so eloquently. Nico nodded seriously anyway. “You appear to be malnourished, physically injured though not critically, and sleep-deprived. Um,” he glanced nervously at the merboy’s tail. “I also think you’re probably dehydrated if merpeople need more water than humans to survive. The overall condition of your tail doesn’t seem good, though obviously I don’t exactly have a frame of reference for that.”

Will waited as Nico processed his words. His understanding of English was pretty amazing since it obviously was not his native language, but he probably didn’t get to practice it much.

Nico spoke up, voice a bit rough due to disuse and dehydration. “I understand,” he said. “You are correct. My tail should be… lighter? Less… dark.” His face twisted in confusion, and maybe a bit of frustration, at his limited vocabulary.

The doctor hummed as he tried to understand what Nico meant. “Do you mean shiny? Like,” he tapped his chin in thought. “Kind of how the ocean looks when sunlight hits it?”

“Yes!” Nico exclaimed. He wasn’t quite smiling yet, but his eyes lit up at learning a new word. “Shiny,” he said experimentally, tasting the word on his tongue. Will did his best to tamp down his own grin at how pleased Nico looked in this moment.

“Okay,” Will said, making a note on his clipboard. “So, with all of that, I think it’s best if you stay with us for at least three days. There’s a lot of healing that needs to be done for me to feel comfortable sending you home. Octavian really did a number on you.” He frowned down at his notes, upset at how awfully his cousin treated this poor merboy. It was almost amazing that he could become even more disgraceful in Will’s eyes than he already was.

Nico took note of the way Will looked angry when discussing his treatment on the other ship. He did not think the anger was directed at him since Will had been nothing but helpful the entire time he had been here. But he couldn’t quite grasp why Will seemed so upset on Nico’s behalf. They didn’t even know each other—they weren’t even of the same species! Yet, somehow, the way that both the captain and doctor of this ship seemed to care for Nico’s wellbeing brought him a bit of comfort. Not that he trusted them—yet—but he knew genuine actions when he saw them.

Even with all of that, though…

“Three days?” Will’s head snapped up at Nico’s voice, like he had been lost in thought previously. “Is that needed? I can heal on my own.”

The blonde took in the stubborn pout that graced his patient’s face. On the other crew members, Will would have been annoyed. But with Nico… well, he couldn’t help but think it was kind of cute. “Three days is the minimum.” Cute or no, Will always drew the line at someone’s health. “Really, I’d rather keep you for longer, just in terms of your wellbeing. However,” his eyes softened, “I also want to be able to get you home as soon as possible. I’m not sure how long you’ve been away, but I’m sure you must at least miss being in the water.”

Nico glanced away from the kind eyes of the healer. He had not been home in some time, not just due to his capture. But that wasn’t for this human to know.

The merboy didn’t know what to say, but luckily, Will continued on. “So, if it’s okay with you, I would like to keep watch over you for three days to monitor your health so that you can make a full recovery. Is this acceptable?” He desperately hoped that Nico could trust him enough for that to happen. Honestly, the fact that Nico hadn’t put up much of a fight aside from the very beginning shocked Will completely. Perhaps Nico had had good experiences with humans prior to Octavian. That would explain his knowledge of the English language.

Will was also bursting with questions about Nico’s species, which he hoped to get answered over the course of the three days. Because how could he not?

After what felt like an hour of silence, Nico finally seemed to find what he was looking for in Will’s eyes. He nodded, more to himself than the doctor, and said, “Okay, I agree. One condition.” Nico pointed to the door without taking his eyes off Will. “Keep this door locked.”

“What?” Will cocked his head to the side in confusion. That’s probably the opposite of what he would have expected the merboy to want.

“Locked,” he said again, like Will didn’t understand. “I do not think you will harm me. But I do not know the other humans.”

Ah, that makes sense and is actually pretty smart thinking, Will thought as he nodded in understanding. “Understood. I’ll clear that with Percy and make sure it is always locked. I can leave a key in here as well, if that makes you more comfortable. I don’t want you to feel,” caged, he nearly said, “held against your will.”

This earned Will a tiny smile and a nod, which he counted as a major win for the day. “Okay then. That’s settled, so let’s continue on…”

 A/N: I’m going to cut this here. Next chapter will be the next day, or day one of the three days. (Who knows when that’ll be up—)

[vannahfanfics]

The Wonder of Small Things

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Momo Yaoyaorozu, Yosetsu Awase

Additional Tags: Mermaid AU

Hey guys, I’m still riding my MomoWase train LOL… This one is in accordance with @bnhabookclub‘s MerMay event, inspired by the prompt “It’s all right. Come here.” Happy reading, and thanks again to @bnhabookclub for hosting this event and accepting me into the server ^.^ I’m having so much fun already!

The early morning air was cool on Yosetsu’s skin as he tromped down the worn dirt path leading to the rocky shore, his cast nets slung over his shoulder. The clinking of the attached metal weights was the only sound in these pre-dawn hours; the sea birds were just beginning to blink sleep away from their beady black eyes and ruffle their feathers to shake away the dew that clung to them like diamond beads. There was that, and the scraping of his worn soles on the even more worn dirt of the path carrying him down to the sloshing sea.

Soon the earthen incline gave way to slick, salty rocks against which the frothing white waves continuously crashed in an endless melody. A wooden dock jutted out into the dark waters, secured to the last bit of earth before the rocky shore. The path Yosetsu traveled suddenly veered level to snake alongside the collection of smooth rocks, but rather than following it just yet, he carefully picked his way a few feet down the precarious shoreline. Mouth drawn into a taut line of concentration, he poked each rock firmly with the toe of his boot to ensure it would not dislodge before setting his full weight against it. In doing so, he gradually approached the thick brown mud barely visible at the base of the rocky slope. Just above the rolling waves, he stopped, setting a hand on his hip and gazing intently at the horizon. A smile crept up his lips as the first tinge of red began to bleed into the indigo sky, slowly following by the burning yellow sun.

Yosetsu always watched the sunrise before setting out to sea. He viewed it almost as a good-luck ritual at this point, a prayer for a plentiful catch. Besides, the sunrises off the rocky shore downhill from his solitary, modest cabin were more beautiful than that you could see from the grandest mansion, at least in his eyes. He loved the way the red, orange, and yellow spilled forth into the sparkling waves like paint poured over a canvas, bleeding together in colorful harmony. At the same time, it spread upwards into the black ink of the sky, like a battalion of soldiers forcing back the terrible demons of the night from whence they came to return light to the world. The golden-white sun bloomed on the horizon like a trembling bubble, ready to burst at any moment with energy but never doing so. Yosetsu’s smile grew with every inch the sun traveled up the blanket of night, marveling black turning into brilliant blue. As soon as the sun detached itself from the horizon with one final flicker, he then turned to pick his way back up the slope and tromp down the remainder of the path to the dock where his humble fishing vessel was moored. The sunset was beautiful, but a young man had a job to do, after all.

The little boat moaned and groaned as the waves playfully tossed it about. The white canvas sail flapped languidly in greeting at him. Yosetsu tossed his casting net into the boat before grabbing the mooring rope to untie it. Once he removed it from the post, he tossed it into the ship as well and carefully eased one leg into the boat. It rocked precariously with the addition of his weight, drifting closer to the dock; after taking a moment to ensure his balance was sufficient, he swiftly pushed off from the pier and drew his other leg into the small vessel. The force pushed the boat away from the wooden structure and out into the waves. Yosetsu grabbed a little paddle and stuck it into the water, then began to row out to sea.

His boat was little more than a dinghy fit for two, so he did not row far- only to where the water was about fifteen feet deep or so, with the land still clearly in view. He hefted up his anchor and tossed it into the water; in plunked into the waves with a tremendous splash before plummeting the short distance down to the seafloor, where it sunk into the thick mud and probably startled some scuttling crabs or perhaps disgruntling a flounder. Yosetsu picked up his casting net and spread it out with both his arms, hooking some of the salty thin rope with his teeth. With practiced movements, he then flung the net about a yard into the water. The heavy weights sewn into the rope caused the thin and light material to sink rapidly down into the depths and hopefully trap a collection of nice fish and crustaceans within the spiderweb-like netting. Once the tension slacked in the string in his hand, he swiftly reeled it in.

Water cascaded from the net as he hauled it over the side and splashed around as the trapped fish fearfully flapped about. Yosetsu grabbed one of the metal ten-gallon-buckets that stocked the boat and scooped some seawater into it before loading the acceptable fish from his haul into it. It seemed his daily ritual had again borne fruit; the net contained several sizeable crabs and a nice, fat trout, perfect for roasting over a crackling fire. He had only just begun, but he still grinned to himself at the possibility of a haul so good he could take a day off.

Yosetsu continued fishing until the sun had reached its highest point. By this time, he had stripped off his loose cotton shirt; the hot rays made the thin sheen of sweat glimmer on his tanned skin not unlike the light playing over the water. He had five ten-gallon buckets filled to their brims with a various assortment of fish and other sea creatures. He grinned as his eyes swept over the impressive haul, his mind whirling of the various ways he could salt and season and grill them over the next few days. Two-thirds of his catch he was going to take into town to sell to the local fish merchant and earn himself a pretty penny. Could probably get myself some new boots, he thought as he wiggled his big toe, watching the pink flesh and dirty toenail poke through the frayed leather.

There was a little more room in the last bucket, so Yosetsu decided to try his luck with one more cast. He flung the net out into the water and waited for it to sink to the muddy bottom, holding the string tight in his hand. His eyebrow quirked when he the thin rope lurched some in his grip. He grinned, thinking he had caught himself a nice fat monster fish. However, the string then lurched violently in his grasp, making him cry out and stumble over to the edge of the boat. He planted the sole of his boot on the edge and leaned back at a forty-five-degree angle, gritting his teeth as he gripped the rope tight with both hands.

“Nuh-uh. You’re not getting away from me, dinner!” he grunted through clenched teeth. The rope dug into the calloused flesh of his palms to tear away the roughened skin and bite the soft, vulnerable layer underneath. It began to burn terribly, and smears of red blood began to appear on every inch of the gray-white nylon he tugged back, but he refused to let go. His eyes went as wide as saucers as a massive, glittering red tail began to thrash at the surface of the water. He began to whoop and holler with glee. “Well dammit if that ain’t the biggest redfish I’ve ever seen!” he howled. The crimson scales gleamed in the white sunlight, sparkling like millions of fine-cut rubies. The shade was a bit vermillion to be a redfish, and he couldn’t spot the signature brown circular mark that identified the species, but if it wasn’t a redfish, then what the hell was it?

As it turned out, it was not a redfish.

Yosetsu went slack-jawed as the gigantic tail disappeared under the water, only to be replaced with the upper half of a human woman. She tugged aggressively at the white nylon netting twisted snug around her body, but her fine fingernails had no chance of rending the thickly woven rope. She had thick black hair that was voluminous even with the water streaming from the strands in rivulets, and pretty black eyes that shone like onyx pearls in her pale white face. He gawked at her shamelessly, the rope loosening in his hands from the shock. “A mermaid,” he breathed when his tongue finally decided it wanted to work, “I caught a fucking mermaid.”

Her head snapped to him once he spoke. Her gaze dropped to the thread of rope connecting the net proper to himself, and he hastily tightened his grip again lest she decide to try and spring away. Her eyes slowly trailed back up to his face; they were hard, calculating, distrusting… but gleaming with the tiniest bit of curiosity. Yosetsu flushed a little under her unyielding stare and bit down hard on his lip as he contemplated what exactly he should do.

Mermaids were urban legends, fairy tales, the subject of raucous sea shanties- yet here he was with one tangled in his cast net! If he hauled her in and showed her off in the nearby town, he was almost guaranteed to skyrocket into the highest tax bracket. He could sell her off to a zoo or a scientist or even the government for millions, and boom! No more hovel on the seaside, no more slaving in a dinghy to drag in fish all day- he’d be lounging in a hammock sipping piña coladas out of coconuts surrounded by pretty girls in bikinis! He giggled languorously at the colorful fantasy. Yet, when he looked back at the beautiful mermaid staring silently at him, the dream bubble burst over his head.

Guilt began to burn like acid in the back of his throat. What was he thinking? She was a living creature, no different than he. With her tail suspended below the water, it was like he was looking at a human girl. How dare he fantasize about profiting off her misery? He tried to ignore the whispers of dollar signs in his ears as he slowly crouched down, beckoning her over with a hand. “It’s all right. Come here.”

She tilted her head to the side as she eyed him warily. He couldn’t blame her; mermaid horror stories probably consisted of terrible tales of what humans would do if she were ever caught. Smiling gently like he would at a stray dog, he beckoned her again. “I promise I won’t hurt you. That netting must hurt, right? Lemme untangle you.” The mermaid hesitated for a moment, then slowly swam up to the edge of the boat. The waves had calmed down since early morning, so now he could see her vermillion tail gliding just underneath the surface; wispy pinkish-red fins adorned the scaly body. It seemed she even had a flair for fashion, as she had strings of colorful glass bits and dark green kelp wrapped around her midriff like a belt with lines of them trailing down around her like a shredded skirt. He was so busy staring at the interesting garment that he hadn’t noticed she had leaned up to rest her arms on the edge of the boat- that is, until she coughed politely right in his ear.

He scrambled back too fast and landed on his rump, rocking the boat tremendously. She giggled cutely at him, bobbing up and down with the boat’s movement. With pink cheeks, he straightened his headband and crawled back to the other side of the vessel to sit on his knees in front of her. When he procured his pocketknife, her dark eyes flickered to the chipped blade before looking at him nervously. “It’s all right. I’ll be careful not to cut you. I just don’t think I can untangle you with how much you thrashed around,” he explained softly. He waited until she nodded slowly in acknowledgment before getting to work.

He started with the netting around her chest. Due to her whipping and flapping around, most of the net had wound itself around her middle. It was drawn painfully tight, digging into her supple white skin, and there was a faint wheeze in her breaths as she struggled to breathe with the tightness. Yosetsu wormed the tip of his index finger beneath the thin rope to pull it up enough to slip the blade under, careful not to nick her, and slice through the nylon. He tried not to think about how expensive that net had been and how he would probably have to forgo new boots in favor of purchasing a new one. At least I got a good haul today, he lamented with a wry smile.

Once he had cut through a good portion of the netting around her middle, the mermaid released a long sigh of relief. Her body sagged down into the water a little and she drank in a few heavy breaths; Yosetsu waited patiently for her to recover from the strain, as he was sure it had been uncomfortable for her, then began to work at the netting around her neck. That was the most painstaking part, as he had to be exceptionally careful not to cut the artery or vein there. She craned her chin up as he diligently worked, but her black eyes remained fixed on him the entire time. It was quite daunting, actually, and a faint blush remained on his cheeks throughout the entire ordeal.

“Here we go,” he smiled as he pulled the loose netting over her head. For a second, he thought of the way a groom removed a veil from the face of his bride, and his blush darkened to a plum color. The mermaid seemed not to notice, for she was smiling giddily and shaking her cascades of black hair away from the clinging strands of the net. The afternoon sun had dried her hair out considerably, making it shine like threads of obsidian. Transfixed, Yosetsu could not help but reach out to touch it; it was incredibly soft against his fingertips, despite the incredible amount of salt it came into contact with daily. The mermaid didn’t shy away, only watched him with a blank expression. “Sorry,” he stuttered when he realized what he was doing and snatched his hand away. “It’s just, um, really pretty.” His heart thumped in his chest at the happy smile she gave him. She hadn’t said a word yet, so who knew if she even knew what he was saying? She was probably just reacting for his benefit.

He motioned for her to roll onto her side, and she did so, exposing that giant vermillion tail to his awaiting eyes. Rubies, he thought again as he beheld the magnificent appendage. He leaned over the edge of the boat to begin cutting at the netting. It was much less careful work due to the healthy hardness of her scale, so he finished quickly. With a small sigh, he dragged the last of the ruined netting from her body and deposited it in the small fishing boat. With his back turned, he fully expected her to disappear beneath the water and swim away into the depths, never to return. He frown when he heard no splashing, however, and turned back to see her still there. She had her chin propped up on her arms and was just gazing at him with a tiny smile.

“Um… I’m done now. You can go now if you want to,” he told her awkwardly. Her smile widened, and for the first time, she spoke.

“What’s your name?” The question threw him for a loop; really, at this point he thought her to be mute, or at least incapable of human language.

“Y-yosetsu Awase,” he stammered quickly. “What about you?” he asked and edged a little closer to her. “Do you have a name?” She made a series of clicking and chirping sounds that he supposed was merfolk language. He had no idea of how even to begin replicating it, so he just gave her a crooked smile. “Uh, that’s, uh, a pretty name.” She giggled airily and pulled herself up so that they were now eye-level. Her face was only a few inches from his. He could kiss her if he wanted to. Stop that, he scolded his shameless unconscious.

“You didn’t understand that, did you?”

“No. Absolutely not. Not a word.” She giggled again. He found himself smiling at how beautiful her laugh was. It reminded him of the bells ringing in the docks of the city harbor as they signaled the morning sail of the shrimp and charter boats. Her body bobbed up and down with the waves, occasionally bringing her face a few centimeters closer to his. Her black eyes continuously searched his expression, but he knew not what she was searching for.

“Well, then… Why don’t you give me a human name?”

One hears thousands of names in their lifetime, but as he gaped at her, he could not even think of one. Subconsciously, he glanced down and spied the peachy-pink color of her wispy fins.

“How about… Momo?”  

“Mo-mo?” she echoed inquisitively. He flushed, thinking she found it ridiculous, but then she flashed him a toothy grin. “I like it. You may call me Momo, Yosetsu Awase.”

“You can just call me Yosetsu,” he corrected her quickly. When she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, he quickly explained, “Humans have two names, a first and a last. Humans usually only call each other by one, so… You can call me Yosetsu.” He figured it would be too much trouble to explain the intricacies and manners of given and surnames, so he just elected to keep things simple. She smiled cutely at him.

“All right, then… Yosetsu.” The conversation died, but not uncomfortably so. Yosetsu very much liked just looking at her. She really was a magnificently splendorous creature, and he couldn’t believe that thirty minutes ago, he was considering selling her off to the highest bidder.

She poked around his boat a little, inquiring about the various tools and such he carried with him. He found her delight and curiosity to be more refreshing than the briskest sea breeze and smiled all the while. She was like a charmed young child, entranced by even the most mundane of human artifacts. He gave her a cowrie shell that he had fished in with his net, and she reclined back in the water to watch the light play over its brown-striped surface with the purest look of rapture he had ever seen. It reminded him of how much he really took for granted in day-to-day life. How had the wonder of all the small things in the world just dissolved away? Although, he thought wryly, I do have my sunrises.

“Momo.” She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Will you… come back tomorrow morning? Before the sun rises?”

~~~~~~~~~~

The early morning air was cool on Yosetsu’s skin as he tromped down the worn dirt path leading to the rocky shore, but he didn’t have his cast net with him this time. The scraping of his worn soles on the even more worn dirt was the only sound in these pre-dawn hours; the sea birds were just beginning to blink sleep away from their beady black eyes and ruffle their feathers to shake away the dew that clung to them like diamond beads. There was that, and Momo’s greeting floating on the sea breeze from the shoreline.

Like every morning, Yosetsu ignored the veer in the dirt path to instead pick his way down the slick collection of rocks to stop just short of the splashing waves. Momo lay with her upper half sprawled over a large, flat stone with her black hair gathered over her shoulder, and the milk-white skin of her mostly bare back gleamed like limestone in the moonlight. Her crimson tail floated on the surface of the water behind her, those delicate pink fins rippling like fine silk in the swilling waves. “Good morning,” he smiled as he came to a stop beside her.

“Hello. What is it you wanted me to see?”

“Just be patient,” he instructed her breathily as he eased himself into a sitting position on the flat but slimy-wet rock. He eased off his boots and socks and set them aside so he could dip his bare feet into the cool water. He dug his toes into the goopy brown mud with a contented sigh, then looked over as Momo swam a little closer to him. She was eyeing him curiously, like he was going to bring out something at any moment. “Just look at the horizon,” he ordered, punctuating it with a point of his index finger. She blinked but obediently did as he asked, reclining against the rocks and staring out at the point where sky met sea. A smile crept up his lips as the first tinge of red began to bleed into the indigo sky, slowly following by the burning yellow sun, and he looked at her to see her eyes gradually widening.

The red, orange, and yellow spilled forth into the sparkling waves like paint poured over a canvas, bleeding together in colorful harmony. At the same time, it spread upwards into the black ink of the sky, like a battalion of soldiers forcing back the terrible demons of the night from whence they came to return light to the world. The golden-white sun bloomed on the horizon like a trembling bubble, ready to burst at any moment with energy but never doing so. Yosetsu had seen this image countless mornings; it had been burned into his mind like a brand, so he did not need to look at it that morning to marvel. No, instead, he marveled at the gorgeous mermaid beside him as she beheld her first sunrise. Her pink lips parted with an awed gasp while her black eyes shone gold as they caught the first rays of the morning sun. So enraptured was she that she didn’t even smile; she just stared at the sun as it inched up the sky, until with one final flicker it detached itself from the horizon to rise into the brilliant expanse of blue.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispered. He raised an eyebrow as a tear leaked out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. He wondered if he had been so moved the first time that he saw the sunrise. Probably not, because unlike Momo, he took the wonder of the small things for granted. She turned to him with a beaming, grateful smile so big it made her eyes scrunch up a little. “Thank you, Yosetsu. I’ll never forget this moment, never.” He blushed at the solemnness of her vow and scratched at the back of his head bashfully.

“Well… If you want to… You can see it every morning. The sunrise, I mean. I do it every day before I go out to sea.”

“Then I’ll be here every morning waiting for you,” she promised. He gave her a lopsided grin. She pulled herself up onto the rocks so that they were eye-level. Her face was only a few inches from his. He could kiss her, if he wanted to- and oh, how he wanted to. Her eyes flickered down to his lips as he experimentally leaned in a little closer. She did not retreat from his advance, only gazed invitingly at him with those eyes like black pearls.

“You know somethin’, Momo?” His breath ghosted over her face, and his lips hovered mere millimeters from hers.

“What?” The word was but a whisper, a flitter of wind against his mouth.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as he closed the minuscule distance and gently pressed his mouth to hers. His hands found her waist, just above the junction of ruby scales to skin covered by strings of glass shards and kelp wrappings, and tenderly caressed the soft flesh still gleaming with seawater. He only held the kiss for a mere moment, as fleeting as the crash of a wave against the shore. When he pulled back, her onyx eyes glittered as she smiled sheepishly and cupped his wind-roughened cheek in her hand. There, in the space where sky met sea met land, Yosetsu again marveled the wonder of all the small things in the world and was thankful.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @mhafandomman

[mira--mira]

N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share? V: Are there certain comments you’ve received on your stories that have stuck with you? Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories?  Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories? ~~~~~~~

A. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic. AD. Do you accept prompts?

Wanted to say a big Thank you for all your amazing work, honestly just reading fics have made my day many many times.

Thank you so much!

N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share?

I joked that Twisting Fate was the fic that completely derailed my non-OoT writing schedule, but that honor actually goes to two fics, the other which is still a WIP and an Out of Time snippet: "Summer Solstice".

I lovingly refer to it as my "lore-dump" snippet because it focuses on Madara celebrating the titular summer solstice. More details about the Uchiha's beliefs and religious practices are brought up, what it was like before he was made into a ghost (and finally ties back into Sasuke's early line in OoT that Amaterasu 'looked away' from the Uchiha after the fact) as well as contrasting it to the Senju beliefs, of which Hashirama is not as devout as Madara is to his own, and Yamato and Sai who are both atheists. Yamato wants Madara to have his celebration because he thinks it'll be good for him but Sai is opposed, though he doesn't try to forcibly stop it, because he's worried that if Madara saw there was no Amaterasu, he'd be more crushed than if he didn't celebrate the holiday at all. There's also a scene with Neko-baa 😉. (It's 5K and nowhere near finished 😅😬)

V: Are there certain comments you’ve received on your stories that have stuck with you?

A lot of the early ones, tbh. I first started writing in BNHA (and really want to get back to that fic) and there was an awesome little group of regular commenters that really helped me feel confident about my writing (Shiryu @shiryusamarkanda, captainofmyfleet, beccaaahhhh) I find it hard to articulate how much those early comments meant to me, especially as they took an interest in the fic and engaged when I asked questions in my author's notes about what they thought. Even now those are still my favorite kinds, the comments that are basically "I love x" "I can't believe xyz happened" "is this setting up something about a?" etc. I worked through a lot of my imposter syndrome when I started posting and I know how to get myself out of it now, but those types of comments really mean the world.

A lot of time writing to me feels like I'm in a box, and I'm just typing away at my keyboard. I like being in the box, I go in there willingly but sometimes it's nice to cut open a hole and ask a question and get a response instead of constantly wondering 'I think that's a good line...it's a good line to me but I've read this 50+ times, would someone who's not me think it's a good line too?' or 'oh I love this plot point, I'm so excited to see how it fits into the whole...wait, does it fit right? does it keep up the same pace and energy or does it deviate too much?' I'm thankful for all comments, but readers who engage, ask questions, and take the time to copy and paste their favorite lines in their comments are just absolutely amazing. I've never deleted a single comment, I doubt most authors do, just mark them as read in my inbox and whenever I'm feeling down or unmotivated I go start rereading or just look at the number of total comments and tear up a little that I've come as far as I have. 💖

Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories?  Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?

I do tend to be satisfied with my most popular stories! Mostly because I write when I'm engaged with an idea and that usually turns into a multi-chapter work which, statistically, is more likely to be popular just based on exposure and repeated updates. My top three popular stories all follow this outline, and I would rank them according to personal satisfaction as of now: Out of Time, The Diverging Path, and Birds of a Feather and they fall neatly into how much time/how long I've spent actively writing. For one-shots it's a bit mixed. "Fireproof" did insanely well for a fic that's just over 600 words and was tagged as a genfic. My MerMay series "Anchored" and "Oasis" kind of bombed and I was really surprised neither broke the 100 kudos mark, though I did notice a dip in activity in my feed for kudos/comments/views in general between April and May of this year so...idk what's up with that lol.

~

A. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Out of Time. No joke. There's a reason it turned into the monster it did and that reason is I think it literally ticks off everything I want to write about. I like fix-it fics but I realized after BNHA that I like to take apart a complete work. I have all the canon information (not counting Boruto) and I can rework it as I see fit, like it's a giant puzzle. Time travel would let me do it in a new, interesting way (esp time travel forward) and I have a secure enough grasp on characters that I can imagine all the new interactions within the familiar framework without it feeling overdone to me. Add in my love of kiddo!hashimada specifically, established relationships, found family, and a chock ton of worldbuilding and...that's OoT 😂.

AD. Do you accept prompts?

Sure! I can't promise I'll write them, especially with the mess my schedule currently is...but I plan to do more reader-submitted prompts like I did in May for my hashimada anniversary, and you're always welcome to try your luck and submit one now and see if my brain latches onto it like a feral opossum clinging to its precious bowl of catfood. (Trust me, this is the best simile for my brain. No opossums were hurt in writing this.)