#once again banging pots and pans in the character tag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zhongrin · 2 years

Text

cruel

◇ characters ◇ albedo

◇ tags ◇ ⚠️ torture, gore, violence, major character death, dark themes, mindbreak(?), angst ⚠️ ⬙ just... don't tell me i didn't warn you haha

◇ a/n ◇ *AGGRESSIVELY BANGS POTS AND PANS* ALBEDO KISSERS WAKE UP I MADE FOOD *serves you a plate of stir-fried bitter gourd with jueyun chilis*

one day, everything will return to the soil of teyvat.

humans, animals, plants, chalks - it matters not who or what you are, when celestia calls for your soul, you have to depart. it doesn't matter how hard you wish to stay. it matters not how determined the others are for you to stay. they say your death is sealed from the day you were born, and just like him who will one day turn into dust, he understands that you will do the same.

all he ever wished for was for the moment leading to your eternal rest to be a peaceful one.

....

why can't the cruel monsters gods at least grant him that single wish?

he's never hated alchemy in his life, but he's starting to think he does, now.

now, when bruises and cuts are blooming across your body, like some sort of a sick painting that constantly changes when touched. your eyes are unfocused, and you've long since abandoned the efforts to keep quiet, yet your screams have long since settled into silent hisses and breathless whimpers.

"feel like talking yet, chief alchemist?! now tell us where you're keeping rhinedottir's potion of wisdom!!"

"i-i don't have- there are no-" he gasps, voice thin and desperate and weak, "please-"

albedo rarely stutters - his words are always calculated and precise, and he's always been able to articulate himself perfectly, always able to unknowingly flaunt his intelligence without any conscious effort on his part. but it's like something in his brain has switched off completely.

he doesn't even know if you're conscious anymore. if you're even still alive at this point, because your blood is everywhere: the cold stone floor, the fatui mages' clothes, his tied-up hands (they had allowed him to hold you at first but they took you away out of his arms' reach when he kept denying their accusations), his clothes (they've all dried up and they clung to his skin and he felt sick from how cold they felt), and his cheek (how long has it been since you two were taken? how long until the knights of favonius arrive? how long until you decide to give up? how long until his sanity breaks?)

he thinks he hears a sickening crack when the battle boots slammed onto your palm. one of your legs twitches, but no sounds escape your throat, and there was no indication that the action has hurt you, but he knows it has to be - your pain tolerance might be high but anyone would at least respond when their bones are smashed to bits. instead, as if it was albedo's own hand that received the brutal treatment, he's the one who yelled in pain.

"i don't have it!! i don't have it i don't have it i don't have it please-"

"hmph.... hey, maybe we should've picked the kid instead."

cold blue eyes widen. teeth gritting, albedo trashes against the shackles, feeling his eyes sting even more after all the prolonged raw crying and lack of sleep for who knows how long.

yet once again, his movements halt when the female cryo mage who had just spoken shrieked in shock as your other hand suddenly grabbed her ankle. relief flooded his chest - you're alive. you're alive and conscious and there's still hope left-

an ice shard

materializes on top of you

and plunges straight onto your back.

....

......

.........?

"ugh, gross! i thought you broke their arm!!"

"i'm pretty sure i did-"

radio static fills his ears, muting the conversations between the agents as his gaze falls towards your eyes. your eyes, where the stardusts should be sparkling and shimmering under even the dimmest light, are empty. devoid of everything, a dark pool of the color it used to be. like charred fishes floating on top of lakewater. the dead rats ransacking his 'supplies' laced with poison. the bird carcass he dissected for anatomical research.

meaningless. insignificant. fragile.

so many hours,

days,

months,

seasons,

he has spent with you.

and yet your death was so quick.

the whisper of your name is soft and tender against his lips. fresh tears fill his eyes, even though he's qute sure he's already far too dehydrated at this point. he weakly tries to scoot over, just to get closer to you, just a little closer-

the agent beside him moves to kick your body away from him, and gloved fingers dig onto his scalp, pulling on the disheveled strands, his usual braids long since gone, his- no, your hair tie already missing since a long time ago. he realizes you were the one who helped him tie it last, and he's lost that, too.

albedo realizes that he misses your touch already. your voice your smile your laugh i miss you i miss you i miss you-

he doesn't even hear the fatui talking to him. doesn't feel the sting on his cheek and his busted lip when they slap him for being unresponsive.

doesn't realize who just came into the cell and causes everyone to tense up and bow respectfully.

"so the puppet still refuses to talk even after their fixer perishes? how amusing."

his throat constricts when this new person flips you over with his polished shoes, scrutinizing your body from behind his odd-shaped mask. he's seen the reports of this very person, though he doesn't exactly look the same as the old photo attached to the papers, but this has to be him.

he's struggling to breathe and all he manages to say is a short plea, "don't-"

one of the man's arms reaches down to hoist your limp form slightly upwards, and the way your head lolls lifelessly like a broken doll makes him choke back a sob. the doctor turns your face this way and that, as if he's inspecting a new specimen to experiment on. his stomach churns when he realizes that... that's all you're reduced to, right now, in this madman's eyes.

"acceptable, i suppose."

"don't you dare!" the guttural and low growl scratches his throat painfully. he thinks he can taste blood - oh, wait, he did injure the inside of his mouth long before while watching your battered body accumulate more and more wounds - "LEAVE THEM ALONE!" please please please don't desecrate them any further don't hurt them even more don't no no no no no no n o please-

"don't worry, kreideprinz."

dottore chuckles as he drags your lifeless body by your hair towards the door, further and further from him, only leaving a heavy trail of blood in its wake, the doctor's last sentence ringing in his ears as he feels the last bit of his sanity leave with you.

is he not even permitted to hold you and kiss you goodbye? can't he just look at you properly just one last time?

"even if they wake up, they won't remember your weak, pathetic self anymore."

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #albedo #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x reader #READ THE TAGS BEFORE PROCEEDING TQ #rin writes

502 notes · View notes

drawlfoy · 4 years

Text

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd.

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it

word count: 4k

music recs:

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson.

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope.

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before.

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty.

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?”

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence.

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt.

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?”

“Draco!”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place.

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table.

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set.

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly.

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself.

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

His hand, warm and soft, reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone.

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted.

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in.

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest.

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her.

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears.

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat.

“As friends,” she said.

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.”

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts.

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything.

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.”

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him.

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.”

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

“Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again.

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin.

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.”

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.”

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her.

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job.

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said.

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco #draco malfoy #draco fic #draco fanfiction #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

110 notes · View notes

shadow--writer · 3 years

Text

Requests are Open!

*banging pots and pans but it’s to the tune of happy birthday* guess what bitches it’s my birthday. Fuck n*x h*dra and all that jazz, requests are open again

If you didn’t see yours answered from the last round it’s just because it’s been sitting in my inbox due to no motivation lmao. I promise I’m getting to them, at a snail's pace but getting to them.

Now, I’m gonna expand on my rules a little bit. Of course these are subjected to change and I will reblog the changes when I make them.

PLEASE BE SPECIFIC. There was this one headcanon thing I really wanted to do (about the MC’s family) but it wasn’t specific enough and it was too much work for me to do to make it fit with everyone. If you want a headcanon specific to you and your MC (no names, will be gender neutral unless asked for) then ask it! I am totally okay with doing that

Look I’ll reiterate but smaller: if you have stuff you want written about something specific with your MC I will do that

I take forever to write so please keep in mind I write as I have inspiration and motivation. Be patient with me lol

Being passive aggressive will lead to me deleting the ask. I had this happen once and now they are all gone, so do not be that person

I am LIMITING it to THREE CHARACTERS MAX. I am so sorry but doing all the main six + other characters is super time consuming and really hard for me since I tend to write long stuff. If you see a headcanon you like with three characters and want another three, feel free to ask!

Aka if you say main six i’ll pick my top three favs. All of the main six is grating since I write like I’m running outta air

OH YEAH.

I will do headcanons for Fictif’s LAST LEGACY (more fantasy and I adore the characters. It’s written well and fun!)

If you want a fic be specific with what you want. Can you see a pattern here? If you aren’t specific then I will not do it because I don’t like reaching in the dark. Not fun for me or the asker if I didn’t really do what they wanted

I will write:

Main six + familiars

Headcanons and fics with Sage, Anisa, and Felix

Platonic headcanons/fics

Romanic headcanons/fics

Gore and violence (major character death as well and they will be tagged as such as well as under cuts.)

Will write in game ships (i.e. Nadia x Portia, Asra x Muriel, Julian x Asra, etc etc etc)

Mild jealousy. Nothing overboard, but something like a character’s reaction to their partner being flirted with or somethin

I will write stuff for Valerius now! He’s a bitch but lowkey really fun character. They might be a bit shorter as I’m still working on him. Courtier content won’t make itself

COUTRIER REQUESTS OPEN AS WELL! Romantic or platonic (I feel like I can tackle some of em!)

Platonic stuff for other side characters (i.e. Nadia’s sisters)

I WILL WRITE AU’s. Western? I’m all over that. Specific modern au you want to see? Heck yeah, send em over!

I will do Poly stuff now! I’m sorry I couldn’t do it before, I am not poly and I don’t want to write something I am not familiar with. I asked around and did research into it. Don’t want to get it wrong ya feel? But now I will write it. Just be specific with who!

Won’t write:

Sexual nsfw (haaaaa a beast I am not ready to even think about trying just yet lmao)

Possessive jealousy/yandere type stuff. It makes me personally uncomfortable.

Most side characters for romantic headcanons. I will do platonic stuff (depending on the character, still need a handle on some of them)

Rape, underage, cheating. Anything like that. Those WILL get deleted.

(please note that I will delete asks that I do not want to answer without telling anyone to save myself the headache. My reasoning behind not answering asks is mine alone and I’ve learned I don’t have to defend myself if I am not personally able to answer some because of what the ask wants from me or if it makes me uncomfortable. Follow my rules please and thanks)

(I also take asks for my OC Maeve but I doubt people will ask so here’s a tiny notice)

Ask away! I prolly will close these and reopening them here or there to clear out inbox. Just check my little notices and posts to see if they’re open or not. I won’t close or open them without warning.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #requests be open #fictif last legacy #last legacy #fictif headcanons #my rules!

39 notes · View notes

heartfeltheart · 5 years

Text

Alchemy: Magic Vs. Science

Chapters: 20/25 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Series: Part 1 of 9. Summary: Magic and Science, are they the same or are they completely different? It just takes one person to point out all up and downs. Along with breaking the stereotypes that come up with being a wizard, alchemist and most of all being human. Thank you, @amynchan! D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ

“English and Edward’s accented voice.” “Amestrian or another foreign language.” “Written notes.” ‘Thoughts.’ First Name: Informal Last Name: Formal (Or used to annoy others)

If it weren't for the fact Mrs. Izumi Curtis had not to beat the Elric Brothers to a bloody pulp, tea time would not be such an awkward affair. One moment the woman is beating the Elric Brothers with little to no trouble and said brothers were not even pulling any punches either. She destroyed them. Now she is drinking tea and eating apple pie like as if the two-talking mummy's sitting on either side of her are not even there.

"Do any of them know Amestrian?" Izumi asked, after taking a sip of her drink.

A heavily bandaged Edward, who was sitting on her right, replied with a groan and moan.

"Typical. I'm not surprised. How did you end up with them? You did not explain everything in your letter."

Groan. Moan. Louder groan and groan of pain.

"I understand that part, magic, and alchemy are different yet there is an element that is scarily similar."

Goooooan.

"Different and similar."

Moan?

"You are teaching them the obvious difference right...?"

Squeak!

"You better! No student of mine is going to be a pathetic teacher!"

Edward attempted to scoot away from Izumi's harsh glare, weeping from the dangerous aura that irradiated from her. Oh, how that woman could put the fear into him like nothing else. Now that feeling of fear was replaced by annoyance when the Emperor of Xing sat on the armrest of the couch.

Ling was grinned down at Edward, not even moving or saying anything as he and Edward stared at each other.

"Why is the Emperor of Xing here? Not trying to be rude or anything...sir..."

Ling smiled widely at the question, he swung an arm around Edward's shoulders and completely ignored the squeak of pain from the Golden Blonde. "Edward and I are the best of friends. He once fed me a soup made out of his leather boot!"

"Leather boot...?"

"Best of friends?"

"Right...Friends."

"Once Alphonse marries my sister, we will be in-laws!"

Everyone turned their attention to a girl that looked to be a third or fourth year tending to the younger Elric brother. Mei and Alphonse blush under the attention and it only got worse as they began to whisper about them. Oh, the whispers, it appeared they can't escape them even here at a supposed haven.

"Nooooooooo..." Edward managed to groan out in despair. It wasn't so much for he did not want Alphonse to be with someone that he truly cares for, it was the fact he would be somehow related, Ling. That would be pure torture.

-.-

"And this goes...here." Edward demonstrated how to set up a tent to his students. He was still covered up in bandages and had an obvious limp to his step. That, however, did not deter him from continuing his work of being a teacher. There is a schedule that needs to be kept up with and so far, everything is on track. "Each of you is provided tents, work in groups of two. If you need help, ask for your fellow classmates."

"Yes, Mr. Elric."

Edward stood up, cringing when he felt something pull out of place. He turned around to walk back into the Rockbell home. It was decided that his students were to camp out in the Rockbell's home backyard, while all other guests are to head to the Elric's place for their stay. Rolanda and Quirinus are staying in the two guest rooms. The Alchemy Teacher had decided to camp out with his students and unfortunately for him... so are his teacher and her husband.

Looking over at the back door of the home, Edward saw Sid staring at him with calculating eyes.

Sweat began to form on the back of Edward's neck at the continuous stare. "Sid?"

"Did you buy your suit already?"

"I just did..."

"Rings?"

"Bought that too."

"..."

"You wouldn't happen to uh... still know Mr. Kay is still living?"

"The owner of the flower shop? Yeah."

"...Flowers?"

"Flowers." Sig nodded to himself and turned to get back inside the chatter-filled home.

"Flowers..." Edward sighed under his breath, he sat on the bottom step of the porch. He turned his attention to his student to see them putting up their tents. Some had more trouble putting up their tents while others had already put their ups and were helping the struggling ones with their own. "Red or gold flowers."

The soft creak signifying that someone was opening the back door and soft steps walked towards Edward's left. Edward glanced over his left to see his Teacher lean against the railing of the patio, her focus on his own students.

"How bad is it? Their thoughts on Magic and Alchemy?"

"...To put it bluntly... they believe Alchemy to be a form of lost magic. Complete and utter bullshit. Alchemy does have a magical sense to it, but not to what they believe it to be. For us, that magical sense is Truth. They have no Truth and don't even get me started on their government."

"On a scale of one to ten? How bad?"

"...Amestris without the Government wanting to turn the country into a Philosopher Stone and everyone that is in said Government are filled with dumb assess."

"Ah...Just like the Military here."

"Pretty much."

-.-

Day 6:

"WAKE UP! GET UP! MORNING TIME!"

Rang throughout the entire backyard of the Rockbell residence. Edward is banging pots and pans together to create enough ruckus to wake up his students. Izumi is helping him by using a shaking the tents and yelling for them to wake up. They were enjoying this far too much for anyone's amusement. Except for Winry, Pinako, Sig, and Rolanda. They were sipping on hot tea or coffee as they watch the scene before them.

"I'm going to get breakfast started." Pinako stated before she hopped off the railing and headed back inside along with Winry. Sid did not comment as he followed the women into the home to help them with the breakfast. They were going to have to make a huge breakfast for a large group of people, and several of them could out eat a small army on their own.

"We have a long day ahead of us!"

-.-

"Edward sure mellowed out, I guess being a teacher did him some good." Ling stated while he stared out a window watching Edward teach his students out in the backyard. The Alchemy teacher is teaching them how to properly start a fire and other survival skills they could do without magic.

"You think so? What makes you say that?" Winry asked, glancing out the window. She sweats dropped at what she was seeing outside. Edward is running around the yard partially on fire, his students chasing him around with a water hose and Izumi laughing at the scene before her. "Uh... mellow?"

"Yeah, he would have beat up the kid that set him on fire instead of running off to who knows what!" Ling laughed, keeping his entire attention on what was happening. As if watching his favorite television show or movie. "Now he's... How did he manage to...?"

"Shh! My favorite show is on!"

"MY PANTS ARE ON FIRE!"

"STAY STILL, MR. ELRIC!"

-.-

While Edward got treated for his burns by Mei as his students are working on their homework. It was easier to work together than on their own. All they need to do now is wait for their teacher for further instruction for the last two pages. Even if they are working diligently, every now and then they glance over to see what Mei is doing. By the looks of it, it is alchemy but that is just a theory. From their time learning under Mr. Elric, not once he mentioned anything about healing through alchemy.

"It is called Alkahestry, Purification Arts." Alphonse said to the students, he was leaning against a wall and kept his gaze over at his brother and teacher in said arts. "It is slightly different than alchemy, primarily used in Xing. Primarily used for medical purposes. Mei is a prodigy in Alkahestry as Edward i... wa... a prodigy in Alchemy."

"They're both prodigies?" One student asks, ignoring Alphonse stumble over his words.

"Yes, the best in their fields."

"I can't feel my butt..."

"Oh hush, I'm almost done."

-.-

Day Seven:

"Nature walk?"

"It was this or leaving all of you on an island by yourselves for the rest of the break."

"...Nature walk it is."

-.-

Day Eight:

"Pie..."

"I want more pie."

"Yummy."

"OI! THAT IS MY PIE! Al! LING!"

"I regret nothing."

"...This is my pie."

-.-

Day Nine:

"WHY THE HELL IS THERE A DAMN BEAR HERE IN RESEMBOOL!" Edward screamed as he and his class ran away from a bear. "KEEP RUNNING!"

None of his students responded as they kept running from the bear. It appeared to be hopeless when they suddenly saw Mrs. Curtis pop out of seemingly from nowhere and wrestle the bear to complete submission before killing it. They all watched with shock filled eyes as the woman lifted the bear over her shoulder and walked back to the Rockbell's residence. All the while whistling a random tune.

They did not look away until they heard someone crying, turning around to see Mr. Elric curled up into a ball crying. "She promised she wouldn't do that again..."

-.-

Day Ten:

"Xerxes! Give that back to me!"

Xerxes flew around Edward's head with a small red velvet box in her claws. The tiny owl hooted happily at her human's dismay. This continued until Winry walked out of her home when the owl flew down and dropped the box in her hands.

"Wha...?" Winry glanced at the box with cautious eyes. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Edward giving her a deer caught in the headlights look, or more precisely... at the tiny velvet box. When she went to open it, she ignored the sharp breath Edward took in and she repeated his own actions as she saw in the box. "Edward..."

"Surprise...?"

"Hoot!"

"Shut up!"

"HOOT!"

"...Thanks."

"Hoot."

"Smug owl."

-.-

There were many more ups and downs for the eight Alchemy students. The ups are having the opportunity of talking to other people on the subject on alchemy. Well, it was more like talking to Mr. Alphonse as he translates for Miss. Chang and Mrs. Curtis. It gave them more various opinions, thoughts and new doors to alchemy.

When they were not studying, or asking questions, they would play pranks with the Emperor of Xing, bake with Miss. Rockbell, watch said Emperor bicker or mock fight with Mr. Elric, and many other things. It was a stupendous vacation, that's for sure. The further along they got into the break, they began to wander onto the last two pages of their homework. Mr. Elric had yet to explain what they needed to do.

The last two pages were blank and tomorrow they are leaving to go back to Hogwarts. Their time in this country has come to an end and they know those last two pages need to be done.

"What do you think he wants us to write?"

"Solving alchemy formula?"

"Maybe something else entirely than that?"

"We have to figure it out soon."

"All of you realize there are instructions on the previous page right? Bottom of the paper? Does anyone read the fine print?"

"...Summary of our winter break?"

"...."

"..."

"How in bloody hell did we miss that?"

"Details, details."

"Should we mention the bear?"

"Do you want our parents to get Mr. Elric fired?"

"No."

"There's your answer."

-.-

Edward held Winry's face close to his own, admiring her new earrings wistfully. Luminous steal cuffed earrings with a seemingly random design etched onto it making it seem like a deliberate pattern. The design is actually the words he used when he proposed to Winry in Latin separated on each earing. Etched in the insides of the earrings is Winry's own response. "There's a spring break, but it is a week long."

"You'll be back in the summer?"

Edward snorted. "Of course, I always come back one way or another. Have an apple pie ready for me?"

"Of course..."

"KISS HER ALREADY, MR. ELRIC!"

"KIMBAL! YOU JUST RUINED THE MOMENT!"

"GUAH! That doesn't me you have to maim me, woman!"

"Kimbal! McWilliams!"

"Sorry, Madam Hooch..."

"Continue on, Mr. Elric." Rolanda called out from her spot in the train.

"...No privacy whatsoever."

"KISS!"

A kiss to end a seamless vacation.

Tag List Below:

Permanent Tag List: @runestarchild @princesskitomi @fanfictionpromptsblog @souleateralicestein @vixen-uchiha @okami-knight @legendaryneckjudgestudent @weird-homosapien @justafanwarrior @vivilakitty @ravennightingaleandavatempus @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie @moonwatcher04 @darkshadowguardian @two-faced-biatch @kris-pines04 @mewwitch @edwardhatori @kuroko26 @tall-and-angry @bloody-no-kissu @crazylittlemunchkin @tbehartoo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @melicmusicmagic

#Alchemy Series #Magic vs Science #HP #FMA #HP/FMA #Fanfic #AU #Crossover #Chapter 21

2 notes · View notes

imyourliquor-youremypoison · 5 years

Text

Big Spook (Peter Parker x Reader - Part 4)

Synopsis: Aged Up!Peter thinks he’s done well with leading a double life. He’s studying what he likes, he has his own place, he’s dating the girl he loves… but that doesn’t mean life is easy all the time. Even superheroes have bad days - and sometimes worse days.

Tags: Aged Up!Character, College AU, Established relationship, Whump, Angst. Does not take FFH into account. SPOILER FREE.

Word count: 1.9k

Part 3 <<< >>> Part 5

MASTERLIST

(Y/N) and Peter were good neighbors. They were quiet neighbors. They didn't listen to loud music into the early hours, they didn't get into shouting matches, they didn't bang pots and pans together at all hours of the day.

For the first time since they moved into their apartment, (Y/N) startled their neighbors. She had spent the entire trip back biting down on her lower lip until she drew blood and spacing out. She had climbed the stairs of their building without a word, and gently closed the door and locked it behind her once she was inside.

Then, she screamed. She screamed at the top of her lungs, covering her ears with her hands and squatting on the floor, curled up in a ball – she screamed. She screamed because it was the only way she knew to finally let out all the pain that built up inside her. All the rage and pent-up frustration. She was so useless! Peter spent his time saving the world and she was useless! She couldn't even save him when he needed her the most.

All she could do was make phone calls. She called to let everyone know of the situation and not to expect neither Peter nor her until he was better. She had called his boss to let him know what was going on, and he had been sorry to hear the news, he wished him the best and a soon recovery. And she had called her own boss, much less sympathetic than Peter's, and told him not to expect her because she was going to stay with him until he woke up.

He dared to tell her that it wasn't a family emergency, and (Y/N) had lost it. She had screamed in her phone, telling him that her fiancé was on the brink of death and that she would not set foot outside the hospital before she knew he was out of danger.

She didn't think about, she just said it. It was a white lie, one her boss couldn't question or verify. But May was there.

“I'm so happy for you two.”

Her words echoed in (Y/N)'s head, bouncing off the walls of her skull.

“I know he was waiting for the right time to ask you, I'm glad you said yes.”

Yes? Yes to what?

“Peter finally proposed.”

No, no he hadn't. May couldn't know he hadn't, and (Y/N) shouldn't know he wanted to. She would have rather not heard that at all. How much more tears could she cry? How long until she finally ran dry and could rest?

All she wanted was to rest... she wanted to go to their room, find Peter's sprawled on their bed,shirtless as usual, and lay her head on his chest, making him chuckle. She would close her eyes, and Peter, thinking she was asleep, would trace patterns on her naked shoulders, and whisper that he loved her.

(Y/N) wanted the hollowness in her chest to be gone. She wanted Peter to wake up so they could go back to their life. She wanted him to have a chance to propose for real.

When she found the strength to stand up, she thought their apartment had never looked so bleak, not even before they moved in and cleaned it. Everything was just like she had left it, except for one thing. She didn't need to check to know the blood was gone. Happy must have taken care of it first thing after Peter came out of surgery.

As expect, the bathroom looked pristine – even more than before. (Y/N) slowly stripped of her dirty sweats and threw them in the laundry basket. It was brimming with clothes, she would need to go to the laundry room so that Peter had something to wear when he would come back.

She didn't know how, but (Y/N) somehow ended up in the shower, and then in the kitchen, where she managed to cook a quick meal with whatever hadn't spoiled during her absence. She would also need to go grocery shopping, they would need eggs. She would make Peter scrambled eggs with bacon. It was his favorite breakfast.

Without really thinking about it, (Y/N) slipped into autopilot and did exactly what May asked her to do. She took care of herself, brushed her teeth after eating, washed the dishes, tidied up a bit because she couldn't stand disorder, and when she felt she was going to pass out, she huddled on the couch, refusing to sleep in their bed without Peter.

(Y/N) and Peter had moved into their place on the 1st of August a year and a half ago, and she remembered it like yesterday. Finding a decent apartment within one's price-range in New York city was as arduous as one would expect. Therefore, they didn't think too long about whether or not to sign the papers, they simply did.

The place was not decent in any way, and they would have to put some serious work into it if they wanted to live there. And that's what they had done. The first week, they still crashed at May's place, sleeping in Peter's narrow one-person bed. They didn't have anything, least of all money, because they poured everything into cleaning supplies and fresh paint. The placed needed it more than they needed a flat screen TV or a subway card. A makeover was required before they could even think about bringing in furniture.

For one week, they spent all of their free time there, sweating in the Summer heat, scrubbing this place clean of mold, and stains, and other things they didn't want to know the nature of. They repainted the whole place wearing old sweat shorts and a sports' bra for (Y/N) because it was too hot to wear anything more than that.

May had bought them a fan because she took pity on them, and Peter had draped a wet towel over it so it blew cold air. Every five minutes he caught (Y/N) standing in front of the device, arms wide open, letting out a contented sigh.

“Get to work, will you?” he had told her with a little smack on the ass, making her jump and yelp in surprise. Every day until nightfall, they worked together to make this place their new home, then they grabbed two beers and sat on the roof to enjoy some cool air.

Once the paint was dry, they started moving in. They still had nothing, but they made do. During their first night, they had slept on a mattress they got from a friend who just moved. May had given them old bed sheets she didn't use anymore. They had bought a fridge on Craig's list and hoped it would last until they could afford a brand new one. In the living room was a coffee table they found in the street, and it was surrounded by mismatched garden chair pillows so they had something to sit on with their friends when they had their house-warming party.

They had slept like babies and woken up with the morning sun since the blinds were broken and needed changing. The rays hit Peter's back, and (Y/N), who had woken up early, let her hand rest on his back muscles, feeling his warm, sun-kissed skin under her palm.

She remembered the process of making this their home; of slowly bringing life to this place, filling it up with their belonging and with memories. They had struggled at first – neither of them was particularly good at handiwork, but they had had to learn, and fast too.

There were three shelves on the wall across their bed, and (Y/N) still cringed at how much time it took them to put these into place.

“Stand back, will you?” she had asked Peter. She just measured – again – and drew line son the wall – again – and was now holding the shelves in place for Peter to see if they were horizontal.

If they fucked up once more, they would have to repaint that wall what with all the pencil marks they had drawn on it.

Peter stood on the bed and took his chin between his fingers, squinting his eyes as he evaluated their work. (Y/N)'s arms were tiring real quick.

“So?” she urged him. “Can we drill them in or what?”

Another moment passed.

“Well, at least they are parallel,” Peter concluded in a most unhelpful manner.

“For goodness's sake!” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Come here and hold these, I want to see for myself.”

They switched places and after determining that they were good, (Y/N) came back with the drilling machine and secured the shelves in place while Peter held them up – of course his arms didn't tire as quickly as hers from holding a few pieces of wood against a wall. With that done, they began to take their various belongings out of their boxes to set them on their new shelves.

“What's that?” Peter had asked, pointing at a wooden box sitting on the highest of them.

(Y/N) looked up from her laptop and over her glasses, following his finger.

“Oh, that just decoration. It's a birthday gift my dad brought from his trip to the Caribbean, you know how much I love handmade stuff,” she told him offhandedly.

“What's in it?”

“Nothing.” (Y/N) shrugged. “I just like having it here, it looks like a treasure chest.”

“You'd only put gold and gems inside?” Peter teased her, encircling her with his arms and sneakily taking away her laptop, kissing her to distract her from her work.

“Exactly,” (Y/N) laughed, unable to resist his neck kisses. “It's gonna stay empty for a while I think.”

Waking up with a start, sweat on her brow, (Y/N) shot up, panting. It was bright outside, what time was it? She had slept through half the day, most definitely. But she didn't lose time checking her phone, she stood up, nearly tripping over her own feet and burst into their bedroom, grabbing the little stool in the corner and using it to get her treasure chest.

When the little wooden chest was in her hands, she could already tell something was inside: it was slightly heavier than normal. She had never put anything in that chest, ever. She had a hard time swallowing, afraid that she was right. She knew she was right though, she simply knew.

That dream came out of nowhere but her subconscious must have sent it to her for a reason, and now she knew with absolute certainty what she would find inside. When she opened it, there it was.

The small velvet box.

She dropped it and her hand flew to her mouth, muffling a heart-wrenching sob. The wooden box clattered on the floor, closing itself. It was true. May had said the truth, Peter really meant to propose. He wanted to marry her, and now he was in a fucking coma! (Y/N) shook her head, refusing to let her thoughts wander on this slippery slope leading to self loathing. She fumbled in the dark and picked up the chest with the box inside, placing it back on its shelf without opening it. Whatever it contained, she would wait for Peter to give it to her. She owed him that.

Suddenly, her phone rang from the other room, the volume of the ringtone nearly sending her into cardiac arrest. It was the alarm clock she set. It was only ten after all.

With a sigh, she left the room, and locked herself in the bathroom to get ready. It was time to go see Peter again.

TAGLIST: @palindrome-teddy @complete-trash-101 @keeperofhopesanddreams @i-love-whumperflies @golden-guide @marauderette130 @lowkeykatie888

Comment if you wanna be tagged in part 5 :)

REBLOG TO SAVE A WRITER

18 notes · View notes

asoftervirge · 5 years

Text

between the salt water and the sea strands

RATING: PG, may increase as the story goes on PAIRINGS: R. Sanders/P. Sanders (main); T. Sanders/OMC (mentioned)

FIC WARNINGS/KINKS: mentions of Minor Character Death, mentions of Drowning, Cultural Taboos, different forms of Manipulation, unwanted touches (do I tag it as sexual harrasment or assault?) FIC SUMMARY: Roman discovers the possibility of mermaids existing and Patton is going to make a huge decision.

TAGLIST: @backatthebein, @levy-the-b00kw0rm, @ierindoodles, @rosesandstuff, @notveryglittery, @patchworkofstars (if anybody else wishes to be tagged, please let me know!)

CLICK HERE IF YOU READ IT ON AO3 INSTEAD!

<< Chapter 2 >> Chapter 4 coming soon!

Thomas stood in the kitchen, and you could say that he was cleaning any leftover dirty dishes, when in actually, he just stood in front of the sink and allowed his hands to get burned due to the scalding hot water that was running. The steam from said water rose up and gently hit him on the face. Numbly, he turns the water off (finally), shakes his hands of excess water, and wipes them down clean with a nearby kitchen rag.

He gazes out the window, seeing and hearing the rain pouring down harshly against the glass and the cobbled streets of the port village. The skies above were an ombre of dark blues, blacks, and purple with white lighting the sky when the thunder struck down; the seas were crashing against the strongholds as the waves roared alongside the winds, water crashed over and soaked the cobblestone, making it darker to match the weather outside.

As he watched the storm rage on, he decided to make himself a steaming mug of tea. Various sounds brought noise to the dreadfully silent kitchen: the whistling of the kettle, the soft clank of the mug hitting the counter, and the tea being poured into the mug. Thomas brings the mug to his face, warm steam once again hitting his face as the spices and lemon of the tea filled his nose, warming his senses. He took a long sip of his tea, he feels even more warmth spreading itself throughout his body.

Thunder rumbles and lightning flashes across the sky, causing him to turn his gaze back to the window. Not tearing his gaze away from Mother Nature’s harshness, he shuffles towards the table that was located just outside of the kitchen. He sits down in a old and worn mahogany wood chair, watching the terrifying beauty happening outside his home.

Setting the mug of tea down on the table with a soft clank, he pulls his thick, white wool shawl tightly around his shoulders. He sighed quietly, almost sadly as he played with the necklaces that dangled from his neck: one of them being a cross of the Church of Novis, the other being a glass heart that has a wave painted on it and attached to that is a sterling silver anchor. (The latter is a necklace that was given to him by his late husband before he was killed).

He feels his heart growing painfully tight with worry. Roman and Logan haven’t come home yet and he can’t help but believe the worst has happened, as it was the sea that took his husband from him…he didn’t want the same to happen to his baby boy. He made Roman swear that he would come back when the weather starts to get back or when the nightfall hits the sky, and Roman promised that he would. He does it every time Roman sails off and his son would always honor that promise…however, tonight seemed to be the opposite.

Squeezing his necklaces tighter, he gives a silent prayer to St. Nova and any sea deity that he learned from his late husband to guide his son home safely. After Alejandro died, he wanted to forbid Roman from following in his Papa’s footsteps, but he knew he couldn’t do that…he was his Papa in every way, and that included having a strong love for the sea. So when his son bought a ship from a retiring young captain, all he could do was give him his blessings to sail the seven seas.

Normally, come rain or shine, day or night, dusk or dawn, Thomas would always be standing outside of the house, waiting for Roman to come home with a lantern. The very lantern that was on Alejandro’s ship that was found in the wreckage in the aftermath. It made his heart happy to know that a piece of his husband was still on this Earth, guiding their son as he embarks on the same adventures as he once did. But due to how harsh the storm is tonight, Thomas was forced to sit here and wait.

He reclines back and snuggles himself in his wool shawl. The combination of the kitchen’s calming silence and the storms erratic noise was enough the have Thomas close his eyes and drift off into a miniature slumber.

...

It was the sound of birds chirping and the high sun hitting his face that made Thomas finally wake up. He stretched out a bit, his neck a little stiff and sore from sleeping on the wooden chair and rubbed his eyes with his shawl, the rough crotched fabric dragged itself across his face.

He looks around the room and sees that nothing has changed. He still hears silence, none of Roman’s boisterous laugher or Logan’s intelligent voice; none of his son’s beautiful singing of tunes that he’s learned of him or shanties he hums under his breath; none of the soft flipping of pages from his Papa’s sea journals or marine books; none of the sounds of pots and pans clanking in the kitchen or the smells of Roman and Logan trying to cook.

Silence was all that greets him.

Thomas quickly got up and ran to the coat rack, about ready to put on his jacket and personally search for his son and Logan, when he hears the door open. He feels his breath hitch in his throat and he quickly turns around to see Logan walking in with Roman wrapped around him.

“Logan…Roman…” he finally breaths out, a relieved smile on his face as he quickly rushes over to pull them in a tight embrace. “Oh my goodness, boys I was so worried about you two!— Roman, what happened to you?! Why are you soaking wet?!” Thomas quickly moved back when he saw the state of his son. Roman was covered head to toe in water, beads of it was dripping down his hair, and his shirt was clinging onto his small yet muscular body.

“We got caught in the heart of the storm on the way back to port.” Logan explains, panting softly. The walk from the cove to Alexandria was a long one, longer still with the main destination being Roman’s house. “Some of our crew fell overboard due to the harshness of it, Roman was one of them.”

Thomas made a gentle, sad noise as he looked up and down his son in concern. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt are you?” He breathed out another sigh of relief when Roman shook his head. “…Roman…what happened to your ship?”

He saw tears welling up in his sons eyes, tears that mixed themselves in with the salt water of the sea as Roman looks up at him. Thomas’ heart breaks when he the emotions in his son’s eyes, distraught and loss all mixed into one.

“She…She’s gone, Daddy,” Roman whispers hoarsely and that makes Thomas’ heart shatter (as Roman hasn’t called him Daddy since he was a young boy). “She was struck by lighting and caught on fire and I— I lost her…”

Thomas pulled his son into another fierce hug, pressing comforting kisses to his cheeks and hair, rubbing his back soothingly (as best he could with a wet shirt). He knew how much Roman loved The Crimson Prince, he always called it the next Pride of the Seven Seas. He remembers how much time and dedication Roman put into her, making sure that she was fit as a fiddle before she went out on her first voyage, all the research he put in to learning about commanding a ship and learning about the ins and outs of her anatomy (he put in as much research as Logan did when it came to learning about sea navigation).

(If Thomas were to be honest, he doesn’t blame Roman at all for being devastated about the loss of his ship. He remembers Roman wailing hot tears when he was forced to tell him about his Papa’s death, and how his ship, La Corona del Mar, was destroyed in a wreck.)

(He remembers gathering Roman in his arms as he felt his own tears building up and falling from his eyes. His husband was taken from him, and the gift that he was going to present Roman when he was of age, was lost to the ocean.)

“Come, boys. Go run yourselves a hot bath and I’ll make you something warm to eat.” Thomas tells them gently, guiding them both to the bathroom before going back to the kitchen and turning the stovetop on.

As he cooked, he heard the sound of the bath water running and hears the boys sighing happily as they got into the tub. He smiles as he then heard Logan making an indignant noises, the sounds of water sloshing and splashing, and Roman’s hearty laughter. His smile grew more as he continued to make food for the boys, his heart swelling with happiness as he felt his house becoming normal again in some capacity.

Soon he hears the bathroom door open and scampering to Roman’s room to put on clean pajamas. They came back and sat down at the table just as Thomas finished cooking. He came over and set down two steaming bowls of seafood stew with rice, a plate of fresh bread with a dish of oil, and two steaming mugs of tea.

Both Roman and Logan smiled happily at the sight of the delicious food, thanking Thomas before digging in. Now the room was filled with the sounds of slurping and sipping, the clanking of silverware, the sink running, and Thomas’ quiet humming.

Roman took a break from eating to look over at his father. “…Daddy?”

Thomas stopped cleaning and looked back at his son, making a small questioning noise. Roman noticed how his father looked: he was wearing his Papa’s nightshirt that was a little too big on him, a pastel pink skirt that was ruffled and layer at the end, and a white wool shawl that his Nini Talyn crotched for him. His bangs were feathered over his face, slight bags were under his tired eyes (despite his calm expression), and the slight hunch of his shoulders.

“…I’m sorry I disobeyed you. And I’m so sorry for making you worry…”

Thomas blinked in surprise but smiled warmly as he padded over to Roman, pressing a delicate kiss to his son’s hair. “It’s okay, Roman. As long as you’re home safe and now, that’s all that matters to me.” He hugged him tightly before going back to washing the dishes. “Let me ask a question, though. How did you managed to survive a ship wreck like that? I saw how strong the currents were.”

His question made Roman perk up and caused Logan to mutter something (“Here we go again…”).

“I don’t know who it was…but someone had saved my life. And Father, you should have heard their voice! They were singing the most beautiful song my ears have had the pleasure of hearing— not that your songs aren’t like that or anything, but—”

“—When I found him on the cove, there was nobody there. Not a clue as to help reveal their identities or anything.” Logan quickly interrupted, causing Roman to glare at him.

As they argued with each other (Roman’s side of the debate clearly being passion-filled), Thomas took notes on what they were saying: someone who was able to swim those harsh currents, had a beautiful singing voice, and left without a trace to be found.

“Are you boys sure it wasn’t a mermaid?” he asked suddenly, causing the boys to look up at him in shock and wonder.

“What?”

“You can’t be serious, Thomas.”

“Why not?” Thomas shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head curiously. “Roman’s story sounds oddly similar to a couple pages of Alejandro’s journals and textbooks.”

“But Thomas—” Logan’s protests were disregarded as Roman shot up from his chair (knocking it down to the ground) and ran to his Papa’s old study.

It still looked the same as it did all those years ago. The cherrywood desk and matching chair still sat in front of a circular window that looked down onto the sea. The large bookshelf was still to the left of that, and across from the fireplace that was on the right side of the room. Above the fireplace, and decorating most of the walls, were sketches and paintings; sketches of various sea animals and folkloric beings (starfish, sea turtles, jellyfish, sea urchins, mermaid, sirens, etc.), and the paintings were storm and rough water seascapes.

Roman took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of the room, quickly closing the door so none of it would escape into the rest of the house. He hadn’t been in this room in so many years, as it brought back so many wonderful yet pain-filled memories of his Papa. His feet sounded on the oak wood flooring as he made his way to the bookshelf, his fingers dances across the hardbound spines of each text as his eyes skimmed around.

Not finding what he was looking for there, he walked over to the desk. It was completely covered, no traces of a wooden surface to be found; even more books were made into multiple stacks, various logs and journals were also scattered about, papers were sticking out of some of the texts, vats of different colored inks were lined up in a neat row at the top, and behind them were three pictures. The first being of Alejandro and his crew when they first purchased La Corona del Mar, the second being of him and Thomas aboard the ship, and, judging from how they were dressed (with Papa in a more fanciful jacket and Father in something akin to a dress) it was on their wedding day, and finally, the third picture was of the three of them in front of the ship. Little Roman, probably age 3, was nestled comfortably in the arms of both of his parents as they all smiled for the picture.

Roman looked at the last picture fondly, tracing it gently with his finger. He chuckled at the little outfit he wore, and the little steering wheel necklace that was around his young neck. His gaze shifted from himself to his Papa, a small frown on his face. He bought The Crimson Prince so La Corona del Mar and his Papa would live on for years to come, so that the legacy of sea that ran in his veins wouldn’t fade away.

And yet, all that changed due to a single thunderstorm.

Quickly shaking his head, he went back to looking through the desk. He let out a cheerful noise when he finally found what he came in here for. He closed the door behind him as he ran back to the kitchen where Logan and his father still were. He slammed the journal down on the table in front of Logan, who immediately began to read it:

“MERFOLK  Species include: Mermaids, Sirens, Undines, Nymphs, Naiads, and Selkies

* Many civilizations of old view mermaids as nothing more than enticing sirens of the deep— these beautiful creatures who had the upper-half of a human and the lower-half of a fish or any aquatic life. Oceanic Gods and Goddesses governed the oceans, seas, lakes, and rivers of the world. Stories of these deities have been handed down to us through the ages via oral tradition, paintings, and music. (Yes, they are more than just tales told by drunken men at alehouses.)

* Merfolk quite likely derived from ancient divinities; The first recorded story of a mermaid came to us from Assyria circa 1000 B.C.E.; early Babylonians crediting Ea, a man-fish god, with teaching humankind agriculture, architecture, and much more; the Phoenicians worshiped a half-fish half-man God named Dagon; and, of course, the ancient Greeks and Romans depicted many sea deities including Triton, Neptune, Poseidon, and Amphitrite. However, in today’s tale, they are less formidable than these ancient deities of old. Mermaids and mermen possessed their own powers— from bestowing good luck on humans to brewing up ferocious storms at sea. Merfolk could be compassionate or malevolent and might just as well destroy people as rescue them.”

Alongside the big blocks of texts were sketches of what mermaids and mermen supposedly looked like. Some looked like how Roman depicted them: with beautiful glimmering tails, gorgeous and lithe bodies, long flowing hair, and piercing eyes. While others looked like how Logan depicted them: elongated features, sharp claws and teeth, bioluminescence, pitch-black eyes, multiple limbs and other elements of body horror.

“Roman,” Logan began carefully. “Are you seriously considering that you might have been saved by a member of the merfolk?”

“Who else could it have been, Logan?!” Roman looks at him with a big smile. Logan recognizes this look, for it’s the one the sea captain has before they set off on an adventure. “Imagine it, the possibility of knowing an actual mermaid or merman!”

“Listen to yourself for a minute, Roman.” Logan begins again. “Even if merfolk existed, there would be no way of us actually discovering where they lived and how they would interact with us humans. For all we know, they could possibly declare us dangerous to their environment and ecosystem.”

The sea captain took his friend’s words to heart and nodded. “That maybe true, but we won’t actually know until we try.” He clapped his hands excitedly. “So, starting tomorrow, or whenever the weather properly clears up, we’re going to look for mermaids!”

Slowly, Patton entered the long and fanciful throne room. A few days had passed since Patton had saved Roman and for those few days, he had hoped that his trip would go unnoticed. However, luck wasn’t on his side today, because after those few days had passed, he had been summoned to the Royal Throne Room, and it was an official summon too. Knowing the Sea Queen, and how she had commanded Virgil to tell her of any misdoings her eldest had done: it meant that she knew about his trip to the World Above.

As he swam closer to the throne, he looked around, seeing how the Royal Mer Court wasn’t in session, so he was a bit relieved to know that he wasn’t going to get a public punishment from his mom, but it was still a punishment regardless.

Long. stone marble columns lined the hall from the ceiling down to the floor. In between each column were intricately detailed statues of the Kings and Queens of Altanna’s past. On the floor was a long pathway made of white Carrara marble and aquamarine tiling, and on the aquamarine were designs of scallop shells. On the ceiling were large and beautiful chandeliers made from sea glass that sparkled in the sunlight.

Finally, Patton reached the throne. It was a large and beautiful chair made up of various seashells and pearls. On the sides were large, intricately detailed seahorses with another scallop shell at the base to support the throne. The throne sat in between more detailed statues, this time of the Old God and Goddess of the Sea; the Old God held a trident in hand, hoisting it proudly in the air. His hair was decorated with a crown of miniature tridents and his beard had sea flowers intertwined in it. The Old Goddess had a crown of beautiful shells and pearls and draped around her were strings of even more shells and pearls. A gentle and serene, yet strong and proud look was on her face and a smile graced her lips.

To the right side of the throne was Patton’s brother, Emile, who was looking at him with a gentle expression. Emile looked identical to him (they were twins after all), yet the coloring on him was unique compared to Patton. While Patton was all baby blues with opaque, rainbow webbing on his spine, fins, and tail, Emile was magenta but still had the opaque, rainbow webbing as his brother. Magenta was in his hair, eyes, and even the scales on the upper half of his face. A small smile was on his brother’s face, his fangs not was long and sharp just yet.

To the left of the throne was Virgil, who was looking at everything but Patton. The eldest mer-prince’s heart broke at that, but he understood why. His best friend thought that he was mad at him for going to his mom to confess what he had done…but he wasn’t. He knew that Virgil was just doing his job, there was no animosity between the two and he hoped that his friend would see that.

And finally, sitting on the throne, was the great Sea Queen Y’Mera. She was a beautiful looking mermaid, with her long fiery orange hair, bright green eyes, and lips painted in a salmon pink color. Starting from her shoulders down to her wrists were spots of various colors, mainly ranging in browns, blacks, and oranges. Her tail was thin and white with even more brown, black, and orange spots decorating it. Her dorsal fin looked like a butterfly wing with it’s white coloring, yet the ends of the webbing looked like it was dipped in orange. An identical pair curved out from the side of her tail, which tapers off into a thick pair of fins that also looked like wings. Decorating her neck and wrists were strings of pearls and on her head was the crown of the Old Goddess.

Patton could feel the disappointment radiating off of her, even if he wasn’t looking at her directly in the eyes. He stopped in front of his mom and held his hands behind his back, twiddling his fingers nervously as he waited for the monarch to start talking.

“Virgil has stated to me that you went to the World Above, is this true?” she prompted immediately, her voice held a regal tone to it, almost like she was talking to a regular subject of court instead of her son. It wasn’t the shouting Patton had expected, but it still made him feel bad. He took a few deep breaths and nodded. “You saved the life of a Human?”

“He would’ve died, Mom,” the eldest prince protested weakly, focusing on the movement of his fins, which were flickering with nervousness. “I-I couldn’t let that happen to him!”

“You have disobeyed the laws of Atlanna and committed a cultural taboo.” she stated. “This is unacceptable, my son. We have had this discussion one time too much.”

“Mommy, please!” Patton finally looked up, silently begging for his mom to let it slide. “I couldn’t let him drown, you have to understand where I’m coming from!”

“If it was a regular mer, then yes, I would understand. However, this was a Human, someone who could possibly expose us to the World Above and our kingdom could be ruined.” Y’Mera’s voice was laced it anger, but there was something else to it. It sounded…tired. Like she had enough of trying to discuss the reasons why Humans and the World Above were dangerous to him (which is completely understandable from a parent’s perspective). However, Patton couldn’t. Why wasn’t his mother prepared to overlook this issue once? “Please, understand, my son, I do not say these things because I wish to be angry at you. Quite the opposite, I say them because I am afraid. Afraid that I will lose one of my pride and joys to the Humans.”

“But—”

“Enough, Patton,” the Queen said. Her face now holding resignation and defeat, which made him feel worse than before. “Please…I do not wish to speak of this anymore.”

“Mommy—”

“That is an order.” Y’Mera interrupts coldly. “Leave. Now.”

Patton looked at the monarch pleadingly, opening his mouth to utter a final protest, but changed his mind very quickly. He closed his mouth and turned around. He swam away from Atlanna quietly, keeping his head down low and didn’t speak to anyone. He ignored all the hushed whispers that were spoken about him, ignored the reassuring words from his brother Emile, and he even ignored the pleas and apologies of Virgil. All it did was make him swim faster and faster until he was far away from the sea kingdom.

(Unfortunately for him, in his hastened swimming, he didn’t realize that he was swimming to close to the Deep Ocean, which meant that he was an easy target for the evil, eldritch-like creatures that lurked there.)

He finally stopped when he found an isolated cave and sat down on a small layer of rocks that served as a makeshift seat. He let himself enjoy the dark, almost eerie silence before sighing quietly to himself, rubbing at his eyes which were stinging with sadness and guilt, the softness of his knuckles brushed against the callousness of his baby blue scales.

He knew what he did was right. If he hadn’t rescued Roman that night, he surely would’ve died from the water that had filled his lungs, like all of the other sailors that didn’t reach shore. His heart broke at the thought of Roman not being alive and well in the World Above. He knew he made the right decision…but, even if he proudly told Virgil that he didn’t care of them, he hated the consequences it brought him.

It made his Mom upset with him, and she was upset with him in a way she’s never been before, not even when he was a small guppy. It may have caused a potential rift between him and his younger twin Emile; even if he didn’t want to have the throne, he would still have a very close relationship with Emile, but if he was banished from the court (keyword: if), there would be a strain between the two mer-brothers. And not only that, he possibly lost his one and only friend in Virgil, who, because he was assigned to him by his mother, had no choice but to tell her that he saved a Human. The last thing that he wanted was to lose all three of these people he loved and care for so deeply, all because of his rash decision of rescuing a Human.

A Human that he was in love with.

Patton buried his head in his hands and began emitting soft, sad noises which echoed around the walls of the cave. As he cried (if mermaids can cry that is), he didn’t notice a small group of silhouettes surrounding him, a neon green/chartreuse glow gave the bleak and grey cave some color, but not in a positive way.

Seeing the sickly colored light through his hands, Patton removed them and gasped quietly when he saw six eels encircling him. All of them had sinister looks on their faces as their big, circular and long, serpent-like tails glowed with the bioluminescent light. Then, a bell-like laugh sounded and a snarky and sarcastic voice called out to him, sending a chill down Patton’s spine.

“Well, well~! Look at who the Kingdom of Atlanna brought to us~!”

The prince tilted his head upward and saw two deep sea merfolk, one male and one female, swimming towards him. As they swam closer to him, the glowing eels swam away, but they still remained in the cave, still giving it a creepy, devilish lighting.

The merman was tan skinned with had chestnut brown hair and emerald green eyes. He had matching scars on either side of his neck (much like other mermen), but he had grayish-black patches covering the upper half of his face and his forearms, with fins protruding off his elbows. Underneath of the scales, like Virgil, there is an ombre of dark gray and black going down his arms to his fingertips, which were decorated with sharp claws. The tail is sleek and elegant, jet black with light grey-white, ring-shaped patches that were glowing in the cave. There are shark-like fins jutting out from his spine, another pair curving out from the side. The tail tapers and spits off into a broad pair of fins.

The mermaid looked eerily similar to his mom…and yet she wasn’t her. Her hair was more of a scarlet red than it was flaming orange, and her skin was more on the tanner side (very much like the merman’s) as opposed to his mom’s more paler skin. Her eyes were maroon and her lips were ruby red. Also like the merman, she had matching scars on either side of her neck, but Patton noticed that her neck was painted with dark red and white stripes that was glowing in the darkness. Stripes also decorated her collarbone, arms, and slim hourglass-like hips. Her tail is thick and broad, silvery-white with even more dark red stripes that glowed. Instead of fins, her back was decorated with 7 dorsal spines with 3 more jutting out from the sides, the tips of every spine glowed a fiery red.

Both of them had wicked smiles on their faces and evil glints in their glowing eyes. It made Patton very scared but he tried not to show it, lest they want to attack him (the mermaid’s spines look deadly).

“Now what’s a precious guppy like you doing in the deep ocean~?” the merman cooed, voice dripping with mockery as he swam even closer to Patton. The prince could see the details of him more closely; like how his scales had a unique shine to them amidst the bioluminescence, how most of his hair was flipped to the left side and there were minute traces of violet in it, and how he was wearing things that looked to be Human accessories (like little black, rounded things that pierced his earlobes). “Surely you of all people know how ‘dangerous’ and ‘threatening’ it is~?”

The mermaid circles around the two of them, her spines bolting upward occasionally and it made Patton flinch a little. Every time he did so, he heard the merman make a soft noise, like he was having fun watching the prince be scared. It all made Patton sick to his stomach.

“It looks like Miss Regally Perfect had the audacity to throw her own precious boy out of the kingdom.” the mermaid observed before making soft clicks (. “Oh, you poor, sweet child…It was only a matter of time before she threw you away, just like she throws everyone else away.”

“Aww look at him, Milly-Billy~!” A clawed finger slowly traced Patton’s cheek and jawline, making him shiver. “He looks so lost, so innocent…ooh I could just eat him up right now~!” The merman’s grin grew wider, very sharp fangs lined his mouth.

Finally, Patton found his voice. “W-Who…Just who are you?” He winced internally when his voice cracked. His eyes shifting nervously to each of the deep sea merfolk, whose wicked looks only grew devilish by the second.

“Oh just where are our manners~?” the merman gasped, placing a hand to his chest in mock offense. “How could we forget to introduce ourselves to royalty of all the folk in the seas?!”

The mermaid swam closer, a smirk danced on her ruby lips. “My name is Millicent and this is Remy. We are proud to make your acquaintances, Your Highness.” She gestured to both herself and the merman, known as Remy, before bowing slightly, whether it was out of genuine formality or mockery, Patton didn’t know and frankly didn’t care.

“What— What do you want from me?”

“Don’t be scared, pumpkin~.” Remy cooed in a sickly sweet voice as he swam behind Patton and wrapped his arms around him. Patton shivered, disgusted at the unwanted touches as Remy (falsely) reassured, “We promise we ain’t going to hurt you~.”

“Quite the contrary, in fact.” Millicent tells him, her rich voice oozed with a powerful and almost mothering tone, which made Patton think of his own. “We actually wish to help you, little prince.” One of her claws twisted around a curl of Patton’s hair, he squirmed and moved away from their hands. “We represent someone who can make all your dreams come true.”

“Someone…who can make my dreams come true?” Patton echoed, his heart beginning to fill up with hope at the possibility of seeing Roman once more.

Millicent and Remy nodded as they now swam to look the prince in the eye, their looks of treachery turned to that of (false) honesty and nodded. “Just imagine it. You and your little sea captain—”

“—Together forever. Without any taboos holding you back.”

Patton’s eyes danced with curiosity and caution as he looked between the deep sea merfolk. “I…I’m afraid I don’t understand…who could possibly make that real for me?”

Both the merfolk began to swim away from Patton, before stopping at the entrance of the cave, turning their bodies slightly so they were semi-facing him again. Remy bared his fangs into a villainous smile while Millicent’s lips curled up into a smirk.

“Why, it’s simple; all you have to do, is follow us.” she tells him.

“We promise we won’t lead you astray~” Remy nods, his tail swishing in abnormal delight.

The prince contemplated this for a moment. On the one hand, he wanted to meet the person who could have the solution to his problem. But on the other, he might possibly be walking into a trap and knew his family and friends wouldn’t like the choice he was making.

But it was his choice to make, no matter how stupid it was. And his heart always guided him in the right direction, much more so than his brain did. So, he began to swim away with them.

As they swam, Millicent and Remy grinned at each other, their fangs bared in sinister glee that they got what they, or their boss, got what they wanted. “Just follow us…”

#Sanders Sides #Sanders Sides AU #Thomas Sanders #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Dr Emile Picani #Remy Sanders #The Dragon Witch #platonic Logince #platonic Moxiety #Royality #between the salt water and the sea strands

7 notes · View notes