#quarantine has been entertaining

[hdawg1995]

man someone laughs at your niche hobby 1 time and you really do just don't care enough about it anymore to indulge in it, huh?

[ikiprian]

Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.

Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.

Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.

User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.

(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)

She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.

FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically

BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?

FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?

FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once

FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it

BG: […]

FT: … barbara?

BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”

Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.

[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]

[selkiechild4998]

Ghoul Care within the Ministry!

Back with more ghoul headcannons! So we know how I’ve been posting about mu headcannons concerning the different elements of ghouls and with all these different types of ghouls, some need specialized care!

So the basic care that go for all ghouls regardless of element was the basics. There are medical check ups, dietary studies, and enrichment other than a select few being chosen to play for the Ghost Projects.

Medical check ups are hell. Dew is the biggest baby and will make sure everyone knows. Medical checkups are often preformed when new kits are born to the Ministry or new ghouls are summoned. While there are protection wards up for summoning only healthy ghouls, check ups are still needed. Newly summoned ghouls are also quarantined for the first two weeks of their summoning. This is to monitor their health, behaviors, and to make sure no sick ghouls already in the Ministry accidentally get them sick during cuddle time.

Trusted Siblings of Sin are often chosen to make sure the ghouls have the proper diet. The Pit has foods that are important for ghouls to eat to remain healthy they this team are put in charge of finding the best substitutes for those foods. They also help with some medical check ups when a ghouls eats something they shouldn’t. (ie a freshly summoned Swiss eating handfuls of moss when Mountain was trying to show him around the Ministry’s forest)

Enrichment varies from each element.

Fire ghouls like tucked away corners with lots of heat, so to discourage digging and destructive behaviors, in the Ghoul Den, a network of secret, Victorian Era style tunnels and cubbies with heating systems built in are made for Fire ghouls.

Water ghouls are pretty much set with the Ministry’s massive lake, so they just make sure the pond is stocked with plenty of fish and the occasional pool toy.

Air ghouls like to be up high, so plenty of high up shelves and cubbies are made for them. Even a couple of suspended hammocks!

Earth ghouls are low maintenance, they’re happy just being outside but the Ministry still provides some enrichment outside like tire swings, stock deer to hunt, and planting favorite plants around the Ghoul Den to ensure they don’t wander too far.

Quintessence ghouls are tricky. Each one is different. Omega would often follow Terzo around when he was alive, being entertained by his Papa alone and how dramatic he can be. Aether enjoys trying to hunker down with Dew in the fire ghoul’s claimed cubby. Phantom is the wild card. Growing up topside, he hardly has any instincts like the ghouls from the Pit so it is often to see Phantom either cuddled up to Dew and Swiss in the heated tunnels, held hostage by the ghoulettes up in their suspended hammocks, or sunning with Rain and Mountain outside by the lake. Phantom’s favorite though is dragging Copia into cuddle piles, their Papa being one of the very few humans in the Ministry they trust enough to invite to cuddle piles.

Some of the older quintessence ghouls, mainly Sister’s and Nihil’s quintessence ghouls keep to dark places in the Ghouls den, often snuggled together while hanging upside down from support beams.

[honeytama]

Nocturne

Merman!Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you love Merman!Noah as much as I do. If you knew me on here during quarantine, guess what? I'm back to writing about men with two dicks! ...sigh

Summary: Okinawa Island is just south of mainland Japan and it's where you're spending the few days of your vacation away from reality. You're on the search for fun, excitement, newness, and love. It so happens that someone else is, too.

Content and Warnings: Fluff, comfort, alcohol/intoxication, injury/blood, smut 18+, merman!noah has two phalluses, oral (receiving), raw pnv

Word Count: 12k

Tags: @somebodyels3 @yarasdead @raspberrywatermelon @gh0stfacegf @shilohrosechicken

@thefallennightmare @lma1986

Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka were beautiful places you spent the past week in, but Okinawa, an island just south of the mainland of Japan, will be your home for the next few days as your one-woman vacation is nearly to its end. Okinawa’s horizon is gorgeous; all the eye can see of crisp, blue waters and green cliff sides. Excitement buzzes through you as you approach the beachside condo in the driver's seat of the rental car from the Naha Airport. 

Last week, you spent all your time in different hotels while traveling to different parts of the country, only staying a day or two at a time in a new bed, but this time, you splurged to stay in an Airbnb on the island's coast. You figured that after spending a lot of time being a tourist on the mainland and being safe with your decisions, you could have a chance to be more relaxed before you had to return home— and return to work. You feel more confident after spending a week in the larger cities; you’re able to speak the little Japanese you know and English, you have found all the foods you like and how to order them, and navigating yourself was becoming easier. This place could become a second home, you think.

Walking through the front door of the condo, you’re able to see right through past the kitchen and living room to the back of the house’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Your backyard is the ocean. However, the building was built on a cliff, so you would have to find a more safe way to reach the soft sands that call you below.

It’s morning, so you figure it’s time to find your favorite Japanese breakfast items and spend the day exploring. On the itinerary, especially, is to figure out how to get down to the beach. 

—

You spent the day eating a few meals around town. You decided not to take the car out, so you walked for the majority of the day finding things to do.

Looking for entertainment for the beach, you found a comfortable bookstore and walked around for an hour scouring for something to read. They had everything you could need in different Japanese writing systems and also plenty of options in English. You found a couple of romance novels, both spicy and sweet love stories, that would help amuse you as you lie on the sands tomorrow. 

Love was the reason you were in Japan, to begin with. Besides always wanting to be in the country, you desperately needed time off from reality. You felt stuck while at home, but you have found, and hope to find more of, fun, excitement, and newness. However, love is something you’re still reaching for—in more ways than one. Before arriving in Japan, you had hoped that some beautiful man would come to sweep you off your feet and take you away from everything you’re hiding from. This just hasn't come true just yet.

While you were perusing at the bookstore earlier in the day, another tourist was speaking to the cashier about some rumors while you peeked at them from behind a shelf. Their conversation made your ears perk up.

“Ningyo,” the woman cashier repeated.

“Ningyo? What did you say that was?” The tourist opened Google on their phone looking for more information, intrigued.

“A mermaid— well ours is a merman,” the cashier corrects herself. “The word directly translates to ‘fish-person’. It’s what me and my sisters have been talking about around town with others for the past few years,” she explained. “We think he’s out there still; we can hear him sing at night. Can’t you?”

“Wow, uhm, I’m staying at a hotel further away from the coast, so no, I haven't heard anything. But, that’s amazing!” The tourist exclaimed. “Do you know what a siren is? Do you think he’s dangerous?”

The cashier giggled and gave the tourist their receipt. “There have not been any reports of people going missing or being injured, so I assume our mystery merman is safe,” she shrugs. “I’ve never seen him, to be frank, all of this is just rumors— a legend. But, you should go out to the beach at night to hear his voice. You won't be disappointed.”

You laugh to yourself about their conversation on your hike back to the condo during this late afternoon. A mermaid? Merman? Please. There is probably some wannabe boyband guy in the neighborhood who likes to practice his music on the beach at night. 

You are surprised that it has been going on for so long though. Wouldn't this guy want others to know that it’s him? That he’s the guy with the amazing voice everyone in town is talking about? You think to yourself.

On your way back to your temporary home, you stumble across a part of the town that’s less busy than the rest. You imagine you had taken the wrong way back, but you swear you’re great at navigating yourself now. There’s no way you could have made a mistake while you're holding Google Maps open on your phone watching every step and counting the minutes it takes before you get back to the door of the Airbnb.

Nevertheless, you’re not lost, just somewhere you didn't expect. With no one around to help, you take a step off of the road to walk over to the railed cliff’s edge to regain your surroundings and reroute toward the correct direction.

Looking over the railing, you admire the teal waters crashing against a group of large slate rocks along the beach that form seafoam that sizzles along the sand. You notice the cliff is quite steep and wraps around a small portion of the beach below you. The edges of it are lined with moss and fern-covered rock walls and green, lively trees for shade. It’s a cove; a private one. The sands look so smooth and on a perfect, warm, sunny day like this, you were sure it should have been packed. You spot a trail that leads down to it when you look up to your right. You found your way down to the beach, you think.

—

The next morning you awake and walk around your apartment eating onigiri. You pack up all your favorite beach essentials, excluding an umbrella, because you hoped the tall trees you spotted at the cove would be enough to protect you. While packing, you hum a tune to yourself, and taking a slow bite from your food you realize you have never heard the song before. You must have made it up in your sleep, you think.

You had pinned the location of the cove in your phone and followed directions back to where you were yesterday afternoon, hoping not to get lost again. 

Once on the familiar cliff again, you take the trail and snake yourself down to the bottom, carefully, which leads you out into your own, personal paradise. A private cove for you to spend the next few days relaxing in.

You make haste to set up everything and to start enjoying your books. A wide beach towel is laid out onto the soft, pale sands. You feel the sand between your toes and fingers; it’s perfect. You set up your Bluetooth speaker and roll up an extra beach towel to use as a pillow. Lying back with your sunglasses on and in your favorite swimsuit, the trees cover just enough to where the sun can leak through and tan your body, but not enough to where you are blinded as you open your first book.

You relax for a couple of hours reading your story and listening to music. You’re relieved you brought water and snacks, too, unbelieving you would get this comfortable. As you turn your music down to change it over to a podcast while you eat, you hear a loud splash come from the water before you. 

Looking up quickly, having been startled by the noise, you spot a large, dark tailfin ducking back under the water behind one of the large, pointed rocks.

“Oh, shit,” the sight makes you sit up on your towel. You pull your sunglasses off hoping to catch a good look at the fin if the animal were to return to the surface. “That thing was huge,” you whisper to yourself. Although you have become familiar with a lot while on your vacation, this was the first time you have been close to Japanese waters, so you have no clue about the types of fish or other things that could be lurking in the shallows. 

On your way out of the cove, you take one last peak at the water. It’s almost still with just the tide coming in to layer over the sand, but you could have sworn you could feel someone’s eyes watching you the entire time and not from the top of the cliff. You feel it coming from the direction of the ocean.

—

“I need to hear it, too,” you thought drunkenly as your feet dragged you back to the cove’s entrance.

Earlier in the night, you thought to indulge yourself in a night of drinks, mingling, and dancing. You went out to a couple of bars in town in a white, frilled spaghetti strap dress that hits you mid-thigh and a pair of platform, strappy sandals. You danced freely with some sweet groups of women you found at each bar; your hands caressed your own curves and you moved your hips to the beat around you. Your spirit caught the eye of many different men, from all backgrounds, who were hitting on you throughout the night and feeding you drinks constantly.

It felt good. Their attention is what you wanted, and you flirted with them back; making small conversations and touching their biceps and shoulders to show you’re interested. Maybe one of them could be the one? You thought. I can find love here. However, too many drinks being pushed your way eventually turned you off to them and they were turned off by how you stumbled out of the bar to walk home.

Walking back to the condo, you come across the same road you were lost on. You look over the railing above your private cove and the waters are dark; they crash against the sands and boulders off to the side of the beach.

“I wanna swim,” you speak aloud. “No, that’s dangerous,” you shake your head. “I’ll just— stand in the water. Feel nice,” you mumble.

You think about the woman who you overheard speak at the bookstore. The ningyo. His alluring voice that sings through the night.

“That’s not real,” you giggle to yourself. “Well, I could prove it her wrong. I just need to see if I can hear him. Need to hear him,” you repeat as your sandals pull you away from the rail.

You stumble over to the cove’s trail entrance and carefully make your way down to the sands, just as you did this morning.

Once below, you undo your sandals from your feet and take your purse to throw them all into a pile of sand. You make your way to the edge of the water and step in the deep blue inch by inch until you can no longer see your ankles. 

“Sing, please,” you wave your arms at the water like it will talk back to you. You start to hum the song that riddled your brain when you awoke in the morning while kicking the water up with your feet. “Ningyo, if you dont start singing right now then I’m leaving,” you yell out to the obscured horizon. 

The ocean stays silent. 

“Fine.”

You take a few steps back toward the shore, but the high tide is so heavy on your legs that it’s difficult to move in the direction you would like. You end up moving at a diagonal towards the jagged rocks that you feared; salt water splashes against them violently. You stick your hands out to brace yourself, but a large tidal wave knocks you off your feet and your head finds the rocks first.

You yelp before falling into the water. Your face is fully submerged as you look up at the moon through the salt water in your eyes. Watching your eyelids close slowly, everything fades to black.

NOAH’S POV

Where’d she go? I think to myself with heavy concern.

I’ve been looking after this girl for the past day and never once did I expect her to be injured while on my watch. I was amused at how she called out to me and I feel ashamed for watching her stumble into the rocks after leaving because I wouldn’t sing. I should have just indulged her instead of teasing her. If I did, then maybe she wouldn’t be lost under the waves. 

I swim towards the rocks with purpose and see her floating there face up. She looks limp.

“Please be alive,” I whisper as I take her body into my arms. I hold my ear to her chest for the sound of her heartbeat and it thumps in my head. Relieved, I allow myself to take a deep breath of air and allow my own heart rate to die down. I swim the best I can through the shallow water with her in my arms until we reach the shore.

I lay her down on the sand and fix her dress so that she’s fully covered. The huge gash in her forehead makes me wince and deep, red blood seeps out of it unhindered.

As her lips begin to turn blue, I realize I need to work faster. I raise my right hand over her lips and twist my fingers as if I’m going to pull a rope from between them. Instead, a stream of saltwater is pulled from out of her lungs and through her open mouth until it forms a sphere above her head. I flick my hand to the side and the water bubble splashes into the sand around us. The tingle from my magic use covers my arms and shoulders in goosebumps.

I need to see her chest rise and fall again. She needs air, I think. Raising myself over her, I pinch her nose with my fingers and bring my mouth to hers. I push the thoughts about her soft lips pressing to mine and blow air into her chest. It rises against mine as her lungs fill up, so I continue to suck in air and blow into her mouth and when she begins to cough, I know to pull back. 

The girl lies there still, unconscious. My hand brings itself to cover the gash on her head in full and I put in energy to allow my magic to flow into her, to heal her. The stream of her blood stops, and I can feel her skin closing under my palm.

My head falls in relief that she’ll be okay and my wet bangs tickle her cheek.

Uncovering her head, there’s just a faint scar above her eye that will fade even more, over time. I roll over to the side and lie on my back next to her. I can’t help but think she’s the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen, even with her hair tousled, clothes soaked, and eyes softly closed. Well, maybe those things make her even more appealing.

I’ve been close to very few humans in my life, but I swear she’s the only one that has ever truly intrigued me like this. 

I have wanted to know her since she stepped foot into my cove this morning. I think she’s already seen my tail, but I want her to know all of me, too.

“I’ll meet you in the morning,” I whisper.

—

READER

You sit up with a gasp.

“Ah, shit,” you mumble and shade your eyes from the sun rising over the horizon. 

While adjusting your eyes to the brightening blue sky and reflective teal waters, you notice an array of colors lying on the sand in your peripheral. Artwork? Your eyes fully adjust and the sight of a Japanese traditionally tattooed arm moves next to your thighs. 

“Oh, my God!” You yelp and push yourself further back on the sand with your hands and feet. You look down and see the same white dress you wore out to the bars last night. What happened? You think.

Looking up slowly, you see that there wasn't just a severed, tattooed arm mere inches from your body, but a whole man. A man with a tail.

The ningyo, you think. The merman is on the beach with me.

You cover your mouth with the thought that it will muffle your quick, anxious breathing; you didn't want him to know you were awake for many reasons, but mainly you were curious about him and needed time to examine his form.

Crawling on your knees toward him, you notice not just his arm is tattooed, but his entire human-like skin. His neck, torso, arms, and you assume his back, too are covered in Japanese traditional tattoos. The artwork of koi fish, waves, scales, and clouds all meld together in black, gray, and vibrant accent colors throughout his body. How does he have tattoos? You wonder.

It’s saddening that you can see his face; he has his forearm thrown over it. You assume it’s to shield from the sun’s rays as he sleeps soundly. The outside of his forearms have dark, feather-like fins. They look so soft; you want to reach out and touch them. His hair is short with bangs that shape his temples from what you can see. His wrist and neck are adorned with jewelry made from stringed, tiny pearlescent shells. Looking around his chest and sides, you see no gills.

Trailing your eyes further down, his tail begins a few inches under his navel and it’s the most brilliant thing you’ve ever seen. His tail is long and it's halfway in the saltwater; you assume if he were standing he would be over six feet tall. The majority of his scales are slate, almost black, and would probably look like obsidian underwater. They have a shimmering shift under the light of the sun that makes them look wet, even when dry. These same scales go all the way down to his tailfin and the ends of his tailfin feather out just like his forearm fins. However, along his hip, he has a strip of pearl-colored scales that run down the length of his tail. You assume he has the same strip on his other hip, as well.

Overall, you are aware of your heart pounding in your chest. The cashier from the bookstore was right… There is a merman living in the waters of Okinawa. He’s gorgeous, too.

“Ah,” you hiss as you sit on your heels next to him. You feel a raging, throbbing pain in your head. Feeling over your forehead, there’s a light ridge under your fingertips in the form of a scar. Looking down at the man, you think that he must know why you’re at the cove this early in the morning in the clothes you wore the night before. Taking a deep breath, you tap his shoulder, curiously, hoping to wake him. “Ningyo.”

He stirs awake and removes his arm from his eyes. You watch him slowly sitting up on his elbows. “Hmm,” he groans while squinting to adjust his eyes to the morning.

“H—Hi,” you speak up and wave at him to get his attention. 

The merman twists his head towards your direction and your eyes meet. Beautiful maple eyes widen at yours. “Oh,” he says, blinking as if to check if you’re real. “Hi… You're awake.”

“Mhm,” you hum and fiddle with the end of your dress. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Y/N.”

“I’m Noah,” he extends his hand for you to shake. You reach out to him and his hand engulfs yours. He brings it to his lips and presses a soft kiss into the back of your hand. Must be a tradition for him, you think, blushing.

He smiles at you in awe with his teeth. You notice one of his lower canines is covered with a shiny, pearlized coating and it gleams at you sultrily. 

“Could you tell me why I’m here, please?” You feel comfortable, but your voice speaks nervously. Your fingers come back to your head as the pain pulses beneath your skin.

He looks out onto the horizon and his tail moves under the water as he thinks. “You came here by yourself last night. I think you might have been intoxicated,” he explains. You feel heat rush over your cheeks in embarrassment. “I watched you fall into the rocks over there,” he nods across the beach to your right. “You got a bad head wound and you drowned.”

“I drowned?” You ask incredulously while holding your chest.

“It’s ok. I pulled you out of the water and brought you here,” he motions his hand from the rocks to where you are now and his forearm fins fan out. “I hope you don’t mind— I had to use some magic on you or I might have lost you,” he says. “I spent the night looking after you to make sure you were okay.”

“Thank you,” you nod at him with a grateful smile. He does nothing to hide himself, and you realize he must have stayed overnight with you to see you in the morning. The thought of him watching over you makes you flush.

“Also—,” Noah’s face turns pink and he looks away from you with a smile. “I had to resuscitate you. It’s called mouth-to-mouth, right?” 

Oh. You feel your hands turn clammy, so you rub them on the front of your dress. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry, by the way.”

Noah flips over to his side and rests his cheek in his hand. His tail follows suit and his movement flows the water toward you in a small wave that pools at your knees. He looks at you concerned with furrowed brows. “Why would you say you’re sorry?”

“Well, for one, you shouldn’t have had to go through so much trouble to save my life last night. I was being stupid. I don’t know why I came here,” you talk towards the blue horizon. “Second, you were right. I was drinking. I’m sorry that you might have tasted it on…” you bring a hand to motion towards your lips. “Or that you had to put your mouth on mine, at all,” you turn and laugh at him half-heartedly, but his face looks even more confused than before.

“Don’t apologize,” Noah says assertively. “I needed to save your life. You needed help and I was here to do that. Also, don’t be embarrassed about your actions… You looked cute yelling at me to sing to you.”

Yelling at him to sing to you? What was I thinking? You think. “I don’t know how to thank you,” you smile and shrug your shoulders.

Almost immediately, he replies, “Spend the day with me.”

“What? You don’t even know me,” you giggle. “Also, what do you mean? You want me to sit here on the beach with you until the evening comes around again?”

“Well, that’s the thing. I want to know you,” Noah says matter-of-factly. “We could do that, but I don’t like staying on land for more than half the day. I was thinking we could hang out in the water?” He nods towards the ocean.

“Ok, yeah, we can go swimming,” you nod. “I don't think I’ll be able to go too far though.”

“I have something in mind that can help,” he says with a smirk. “If you would feel more comfortable, then go home and change into your swimming gear and meet back here in an hour… It’s a date.”

A date? You’re going on a date with a merman after just meeting him? Out of all of the men you have met on your trip, he’s the only one who’s made the move for something romantic. And, your swimming gear? Ha! More like one of the skimpy swimsuits you had brought on your trip, you think.

“Okay,” you stand up to your feet and Noah looks up at you with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “I’ll be back soon,” you begin to walk towards the sand pile you threw your things onto the night before, before turning back to him. “Don’t you dare disappear on me, Noah.”

He laughs and pushes himself further into the water; his biceps flex under the weight of himself, “I wouldn't dream of it.”

You pick up your bag and sandals and watch Noah dive further into the water. The splash of his dark tail leaves a spray of sparking droplets in the dawn sun.

—

It’s still morning time, but you have returned to the cove having eaten breakfast with your beach bag sitting in the sand. You changed into your favorite swimsuit, which in your opinion seems just fine for a date and swim session with a merman. No big deal. 

While at the condo, you quickly paced around trying to change your clothes and locate everything you needed while simultaneously forming a hundred questions about Noah. All the while, having to deal with a racing heart and jitters as the merman you met less than two hours ago asked you out on a date— rather he declared it a date. That’s so much hotter, you think. Calming yourself, you thought that today would be the best opportunity to ask him everything that you wanted to know. 

How does he have so many tattoos? Did tattoo guns work underwater?

The most pressing question on your mind is asking him about his song. It must be the one you keep hearing in your dreams.

You see Noah’s head rise over the water in front of you and he stops ten feet away from the shore. “You came!”

“Noah!” Leaving your things behind, you walk into the water and slowly adjust to the new temperature. You make your way to him, having to step off of the coast’s shelf. You swim in place in front of Noah while the seafloor is probably over twelve feet beneath you at this point. “I’m not that confident that I’ll be able to keep up with you,” you admit.

“I told you I had a trick to help you out, didn’t I?” Noah reaches out towards your neck and caresses the soft skin. It tingles underneath his touch. He then brings his hand to the side of your face and his thumb pad rubs over your bottom lip.

Is he about to kiss—? Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a tight sensation in your throat. “Noah, what are you—,” you croak.

“Shh,” Noah soothingly hushes you as he passes his thumbs over your eyes. “It’s okay. Come under the water with me. I’ve got you.”

You plug your nose and close your eyes as you shove yourself under the surface of the water. A foot under the surface Noah makes sure his presence is known by keeping a soothing hand on your hip. His voice speaks out to you through the water, startling you.

“What you’re feeling is your body coming to balance with the new abilities I’ve given you. Whenever you’re ready open your eyes and breathe. It’ll feel just like it does when you're on land… I promise you,” his fingers graze lightly over your skin, calming you.

His confidence in you gives you enough bravery to open one eye. He’s holding you so close and a grin grows on his face when he sees you slowly open up. You open your other eye after realizing you dont get the usual sting from the saltwater from having them open underwater for too long. It feels normal. Your eyes widen at Noah when your chest starts to burn from the absence of air. Feeling anxious, you lose the ability to control the wading of your arms and legs and begin to sink.

“Take one breath. It’ll be okay,” Noah pulls you against his chest by wrapping his arms around your waist. “Remember if you drown, I’m right here. I’ll save your life every day if I need to,” he whispers. 

Nodding vigorously at his words, you quickly suck in and blow out. A burst of bubbles spews from your mouth, but you feel fine— better now that you’re letting oxygen into your lungs.

“I can breathe under—,” You stop mid-sentence realizing you can hear yourself, too. 

Noah throws his head back and laughs; his hair flows through the water with his movement, “I just need to give you better swimming ability and we’ll be ready to go.” He lets go of your waist and dives towards your bare legs. He places his hands around your ankles and they feel the same tingly sensation as before. “Alright, let’s go,” Noah holds out a hand for you to take.

“Where are we going?” You ask while hesitantly taking his hand in yours. Noah begins to swim with you by his side and you’re able to kick your legs fast enough to meet his pace. 

“I’m going to show you around,” he smiles.

—

After a few hours of talking and swimming through Okinawa’s waters, you’ve gotten to do things you never imagined. Noah took you through the colorful reefs that are home to sea turtles and colorful fish, coral, and sea anemones, he brought you to meet a family of dolphins and you both held onto their dorsal fins swimming through the water, and you talked about where he lived and he promised he would show you soon. 

Right now, you follow closely behind him as he leads you along the sandy floor through a forest of seaweed that are as tall as trees back home. The sun glows through the ripples of the surface sending rays of light that adorn Noah’s skin. 

He stops at a wall of seaweed and smiles back at you before using his hands to spread apart the stalks. It opens up to a clearing in the forest with golden sands that sparkle under the high sun. In the middle of the clearing is a large, deep green blanket and as you swim closer to it you see it's woven from fibers of seaweed and other plants.

“I have nothing for you to eat, but I did set up this blanket for us while you were getting ready this morning,” he gives a sheepish smile as if he’s sorry he couldn’t give you more. “Kind of like a picnic.”

Taking a seat on the woven blanket, you run your fingers through the material. While it’s made of seaweed, its fibers feel satisfying to the touch and you can poke your fingers through each stitch. 

Noah rests beside you, lying back and supporting himself with his hands. He closes his eyes and basks in the midday sun that rains on you two.

“Can I ask you some questions?” You ask him curiously. “Like, about you being ningyo?”

“I was wondering when I was going to be interviewed,” he nods. “Ask me anything.” He still rests with his eyes closed, but his ears are open.

“Ok, so—,” you stop, realizing there’s an overwhelming number of things you could ask first. “You like to sing?”

He smiles, amused by your question. “Mhm,” he hums and opens his eyes to meet yours. “When I saved you last night, it seems like you know one of my songs.”

“So it is your song! It’s been stuck in my head. I think the place I’m staying is just close enough to your cove that I can hear you while I sleep,” you explain. “And it’s your song? Noah, does every ningyo sing?”

“My friends and I, that’s what we do. We make music, and I’ll usually write the lyrics. Not every ningyo sings, but we all have our own special talents,” he explains. Whenever he touches on the topics most close to him, you can feel his pride radiate off of him.

You start to hum the notes you’ve had in your head, by the time his voice reaches your condo you can’t hear words, just a mumbled tune. “Hmm, what are the lyrics to the one you’ve been practicing the past couple of nights?”

“The song is called ‘The Grey’. The part you’ve heard…,” he hums to himself and tilts his head back and forth trying to find the words. 

“Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call

Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.”

“You should sing it,” you lean and nudge his shoulder.

“I don’t usually have a problem when it comes to practicing around my friends, and we do live performances too, but something about you makes me shy,” he admits. A tinge of a blush dances in his cheeks and nose. “You’re just gonna have to listen to the ningyo like everyone else.”

“Or, you can bring me to one of your live shows?” You ask excitedly.

Noah giggles and shakes his head, amused by your excitement. “You’re invited any time.”

Too bad I’ll only be here one more day, you think to yourself. “How much do you know about humans?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Oh, well, my best friend is human,” he shrugs his shoulders as if it’s not the most surprising thing you’ve heard him say all day. “So, I know a lot… Maybe, too much.”

A tinge of jealousy strikes your chest. Another human in his life that isn’t you. Someone found him before you did, you think. 

As if Noah is reading your mind, he smirks. “I met Nicholas when we were kids… He stumbled across my cove the same way you did and I was more brave with him than you because I introduced myself immediately. He’s my family,” he smiles and then gestures, holding up his wrist, “He’s also my tattoo artist. He has a portable machine and setup that he brings to the beach for when we have sessions.”

“You beat me to ask you about those next,” you smile with relief. “He’s been keeping your secret all these years?”

“Yeah,” he laughs but it sounds like a scoff. “Well, he was, but in the last few years since I’ve started to sing more he was the one that started a rumor about the ‘ningyo’. He says his neighbors love it. A lady who runs a bookstore and her sisters?” Noah breaks out into a fit of laughter and it tickles you to join him. 

“She’s the reason I knew about you,” you giggle pleasantly. 

“I’m glad my existence is entertaining,” he calms himself and reaches out to rest a hand on your thigh.

You gaze into his eyes for a beat before braving to ask, “So, do you have any other human friends I should know about?”

He smiles. “I don’t. My other friends are all like me,” he assures. “I would love for you to meet them, but for right now I just want to keep you all to myself. I hope that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect,” you scooch closer towards him until your knees are against the smooth scales of this tail. Noah is cold-blooded, but he still gives you goosebumps of warmth whenever he’s so close to touching you. “I have one more question to ask.”

“Go ahead,” he caresses up and down your thigh softly.

“Am I the first human girl you’ve taken on one of these dates?” You ask cautiously.

“You are the first girl I’ve brought into the ocean in general,” he admits. “Besides the cove and where I live, this is my sanctuary. It means a lot for me to share it with you.”

While you want to seem relaxed about his response, you still let out a relieved breath. He chuckles and leans into your shoulder.

“To be honest, you’re the only girl I’ve been intrigued with in a long time. When I first saw you come down the cliff and relax on the sand with a book in your hand, I knew you might be the one for me,” he smiles. “This clearing is where I read all of my books.”

“You have books in the ocean?” Your eyes widen at him and you tug on his bicep excitedly.

“Mhm,” his face glows each time you’re enamored by every new piece of information he shares about life below the surface. “I have a library at home. We have shelves, too,” he teases.

“Now, you have to show me,” you whine. “Please.”

“I’ll bring you home before you have to leave Japan,” his lips graze your shoulder with a kiss. “I’ve always wanted to find someone like you.”

Your heart flutters at his words. “I think you’re exactly who I was meant to find, too.”

His dark eyes match yours and a grin grows on his lips. These words are the only ones he’s wanted to hear come out of your mouth since the moment he laid eyes on you. 

“Noah, I’m not just in Japan to relax,” you begin to explain. “Home isn’t perfect as what I’ve found here. I’ve been searching for something new… Someone to love,” your gaze pulls away from him and you stare at the glistening sands of the clearing. “I want someone who will want me,” you pause but don’t dare look up to see his reaction. “I feel so stuck and ignored where I’m from. In my family, at work, every place that I should feel recognized and appreciated… It feels like I’m nothing.” you admit. A ghost of a hand tightens over your heart and squeezes. It hurts to talk about, but even with him, a stranger, it feels right.

“I’m not perfect,” he furrows his brow and runs a hand through his hair. “But, I can give you all of me if you let me.” Noah’s chest tightens too; he can’t bear the sight of your glossy eyes staring back at him so lonely. “I think I’ve felt similarly to you… I’ve been so bored of life. While I love to perform, I’ve felt so burnt out and in need of something new. It’s why I’ve been singing on my own at night; I’m trying to find what makes me feel excited again. I think you’re exactly who I need,” he explains. “I’m so sorry you feel that way about home. I would never make you feel inadequate,” Noah brushes a piece of hair being your hair. “I wish you could stay here with me.”

In Noah’s mind, he recounts the rumors under the sea of how you could stay. He’s been wanting to grant Ruffilo the same privileges, so everyone he loves can be with him at the same time. Noah chooses not to mention it, knowing that it could get both of your hopes up.

“I hate that I have to catch a flight soon,” you say softly. Allowing your feelings to come out as your next words, you whisper, “I don't want to fly away from you.”

You find yourself leaning into him while anticipating if he’ll reciprocate your movements. Your eyes switch between watching his own and his lips; his tongue darts out to lick his before leaning into you slowly.

He leans into you fully, but merely presses his forehead into yours. With his eyes shut tight, he huffs defeatedly, “I want to kiss you so badly, but you need to know that if I do… Something in me won't be able to let go of you.”

You pull away and attach your lips to his neck. He hums under the heat of your mouth and teeth on his jugular. Speaking into his ear you urge him to go forward, “I want it. Whatever it is. I need someone to hold onto me… Like I told you, it’s why I’m here.”

He leans back to meet your gaze. “Are you sure? No matter how I feel…I can’t just take you away from where you’re really from. You need to go home soon.”

Heat builds up in your cheeks and your eyes begin to well up, you bite your lip but allow your heavy emotions to come through your voice, “I would rather be with you, even for a few days more, than to have to return to the life I already know.” His eyes watch you intently, looking for confirmation that you’re telling your whole truth. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I want to know that I tried. I want to love again, Noah.”

His eyes widen in surprise. You would give up everything you knew for him, and he’s starting to realize that. “C’mere,” he brings his hands to your cheeks.

You eagerly pull yourself to your knees. “Please, kiss me,” you whisper while leaning into him once more. Noah pulls you into him and your lips meet him under the afternoon sunlight. “Mmm,” you hum under the soft press of his lips. You feel a pull from your chest towards him growing, almost supernaturally. It feels as if a string is reaching from your chest towards his heart to tie you two together. The golden glow you feel under your skin entices you to pull Noah in closer by tangling your fingers in the back of his hair and holding him by his cheek.

Noah hums and his hands leave your face to roam freely over your exposed skin. Through his passionate kiss, you feel his fingers grazing over your neck, shoulders, and lower towards your thighs. He doesn’t fight you when your tongue presses against his supple lips for entrance. He melds into you comfortably and allows his tongue to explore your mouth, as well.

You believe you’ll never get used to the tingly sensation he brings to you when he touches your skin, whether using magic or not. Being in this secluded clearing and having access to his cove, he has made you feel like the only girl in the world. With him, you sit in the eye of a hurricane and get to watch the world spin by without care if everything will be okay because you know it will be. Noah makes you feel safe and needed; he makes you know that your existence is important and he wants to be a part of it.

As you pull away from his kiss, the smile on his face and his pearled tooth make you melt in his arms.

Giddy in his grasp, you bite your lip, “Why do I feel like something is pulling me into you?” Pointing to the center spot between your breasts, “I feel like I could never lose you.”

“You won’t,” Noah assures. “Come to my place tomorrow night,” he pulls you to lie down on his chest on his blanket. You plan to spend the day away in his arms looking up a the rays of light dripping through the waves above you. “I’ll tell you then.”

—

After going home from your day with Noah, sleeping, and spending the majority of the next day away from him and the sea, you could still feel the same pull on him that you felt when you first kissed him. It felt as if the invisible string that grew from your chest was tethered to him even miles away at your Airbnb. Even when you close your eyes, you know the exact cardinal direction he is at any time. To your surprise, it didn't bother you one bit, because for once you didn't feel alone, and knowing he had the same tie to you, he was looking after where you were, as well.

It’s evening time and Noah planned for you to meet him on the shore of his cove; so you’re currently headed down the cove’s cliff to him. You’re wearing another bikini you packed with a pair of sandals.

He wanted to show you exactly where he lived and to explain the tether you felt towards him; you secretly hoped that he would do more than that, too. To feel pride in having kissed a merman is something you would never thought would be a truth in your life. Noah’s physically different to say the least, but damn does he make your knees weak.

Noah beams waiting for you with his head and shoulders above the dark water. Throwing your sandals to the side and walking towards the edge of the water, you admire his glazed skin under the bright moon. Under the moonlight, his tattoos are riddled with water droplets that shine. His hair is soaking wet as always, falling into into eyes and shaping his temples.

“My place is nearby,” he smirks and nods his head over your shoulder. “We have to dive underneath the island.”

“Dive?” You shift weight on your feet before swimming off into deeper water towards him. Noah is confident in you, but he sees the hesitance on your face.

“You’ve been a great swimmer so far keeping up with me. I know you can do this,” he holds out his hand for you to take, “Just hold onto me and you’ll be safe.”

You take his hand and interlock his fingers with his. “I trust you.”

“Right this way, beautiful,” he pulls you underneath the water and you start swimming over the side of the cove. Even with your tether, you watch the pearlescent strip on his tail closely to not lose him. It’s the brightest part of the entire ocean at this point of the evening. The sun was out when you were here last and Noah probably failed to mention that he has night vision.

Following closely behind him, you squeeze his hand as you two approach a deep cavern that’s carved into the base of the island. 

“Hold on tight to me,” Noah faces you and holds your chin. “We’re going to dive and then swim right back up. I live in an underwater cave, so you’ll be able to walk around and breathe normally once we’re inside, okay?”

“Okay, I got this,” you breathe out steadily and give him an assured smile.

“Hell yeah, you do,” he kisses your knuckles in his hand. “C’mon.”

The strength of Noah’s tail pushes you both deep through the cavern and it’s the first time you feel real pressure on your limbs— and the first time you feel you need to hold your breath. Noah watches over you, and his presence helps you calm your nervous heart and lungs. When he points upwards, you know to swim with him toward the surface and you do so eagerly.

You gasp for air as you reach the surface even knowing you don’t need to. However, the sight around you could make you gasp, too.

Noah comes up to the surface after you and shakes out his wet hair. His gaze falls onto your bewildered expression. “Y/N, are you alright?” Noah asks with worry in his voice. 

“Yeah—,” you answer, truthfully, but you can’t fully focus on his voice as you’re wading through the water of his cave looking around at his home. The room is sizeable with the pool of saltwater you’re in the center of. Noah’s shelves are carved out of the side of the cave and stuffed with books thick and thin. There’s enough room to walk around the pool, but also layers of rock that surround it. Either it’s the material of the rock or the deep teal waters reflecting off of them, but it seems as though the cave’s walls are glowing blue-green. Moonlight seeps in through an opening in the ceiling, but you see he’s set up groups of white pillar candles around the edge of the cave. 

“I borrowed a lighter and candles from Nick,” he chuckles watching your lips turn into an “o”. “It was a pain in the ass to dry them all out and it took all day, but I wanted it to feel more romantic than our picnic yesterday.”

Your neck snaps to Noah, “I loved our date. Thank you though, your place is gorgeous.” You wrap your hand around his bicep and kiss his shoulder for reassurance. 

He melts under your touch. “I did too. Go ahead and rest on the ledge,” he motions towards the side of the pool. “I’ll help you up.”

You swim over to the edge of the pool and turn to face him. You feel his arms wrap around under your butt and begin to lift up. 

“Oh,” a surprised noise falls from your lips as he picks you up with ease and lifts you onto the smooth, rock edge. He also failed to mention his super strength, you think. You cross your legs and rest against the smooth stone behind you admiring the way the flicker of the lit candles reflect off the dark pool of water your calves dangle in.

“There you go,” he smiles up at you and rests his hands on your knees.

Looking around some more, you realize his place is pretty empty. There are two instruments that are reminiscent of guitars leaning on the opposite wall. Other shelves along the walls have wooden boxes and trinkets displayed, but he doesn’t have a bedroom, bathroom, or a kitchen. “Where do you sleep, Noah?” You ask, looking down at him. 

“You’re wondering if I have a bed?” He shoots you a smooth wink and raises his eyebrows.

“Yes, but not like that,” you fluster. He was right though, the thought about how he sleeps and has sex does cross your mind. “It just seems like you don’t have a lot of things.”

“Everything you see is what I have,” he shrugs and water splashes over his shoulders. “I don’t need much.”

“What do you eat, then?” You tilt your head to the side, curious. Unknowing to you, you have just uncrossed your legs at the same time as asking this question.

Noah’s gaze darts from your face to in between your legs, which are at his eye level. He nearly chokes and you watch him try to control a cough. “Uhm, I eat a lot of different things. I just don’t have the need to cook anything.”

Shying away from whatever that reaction was, you move on to talk about what has been on your mind all day, “So, you said you would tell me about what’s going on here?” You tap on your chest with your pointer finger.

His eyes widen as if you’ve just given him permission to look at your breasts sitting nicely in your bikini top. Noah forces his primal thoughts away and blinks to refocus on your question. It’s important he tells you quickly or you won’t know what’s coming to you.

Noah caresses your skin around your thighs with his thumbs. Clearing his throat he begins to explain everything, “When I told you that if I kissed you that I wouldn't be able to let you go, I was being literal.” Noah’s eyes pass back and forth searching for any bit of negative reaction, but you give none. You just nod him on to continue. “Beings like me, when we reach a certain time in our life that we feel we need a companion, something within our DNA begins an instinctual ritual to find…,” he pauses again looking for your eyes to dart to the water wanting to leave or for you to fidget out of your seat, “a mate.” He wants to shut his eyes and disappear from your curious gaze, but luckily to him, a small smile paints itself on your face. “I think my time began a couple months ago— when I began to start feeling bored and burnt out with my normal life. My body and mind pushed me to find someone to make me feel belonging and excitement again, and I didn’t see anyone fitting my ideal mate— until I saw you on the sands of my cove.”

His head falls and you look down at him concernedly. He continues, “I need you to understand that being my mate would make you mine for life. I would be the one you must love; you wouldn’t have a choice.” You want to interrupt him, but all you do is lean and place a soothing hand on his cheek. Noah tilts his head toward your touch, “Right now, we have formed a tether from our kiss that binds our two hearts together.” Noah looks up at you finally, but your heart caves in on itself when you see his eyes, red and glossy. “The tether is permanent. Throughout our lifetimes, neither of us will ever forget where the other is as we’ll be able to feel each other’s presence, even across the world. However, Y/N, if you don’t want any more than that, I understand.”

Grabbing both sides of his face, you lean down to lock on his eyes with furrowed brows, “Noah, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.” The words seem crazy to you as you thought them over as he explained his culture, but hearing them come out of your mouth was a different story. You wanted to leave home and start anew; this is your chance to begin a life with someone that cared for all of you… Wanted you. “I think— I think your power over love is beautiful. Please know that I'm grateful for the gifts you’ve given me, including our tether. I want to be your mate.”

His hands come to the sides of your hips and his muscles flex when he pushes himself out of the water to meet his lips with yours. It’s a quick, soft, reassuring touch, nevertheless you feel your heart glow golden.

Back in the water, Noah uses his thumbs to rub away the redness and deep emotion in his eyes, but they still are slightly puffy. 

“I know I should believe you, but I need to ask if you’re sure? This isn’t a decision you can take back,” he reiterates.

“I’m sure,” you smile at him confidently. “So, do I marry you now? Say I do?” You chuckle under your breath and kick your feet in the water in front of him.

He laughs along with you and you notice the water behind him splashing. You imagine he’s kicking his tail in excitement, like a dog, at your answer. “We can get married and have a wedding,” he smiles up at you proudly, “If that is what you dream of. However, there’s a— different ritual that ningyo do in order to make a life mate relationship official.”

“What is it?” You tilt your head curiously.

Noah wants so badly to say the next word under his breath, but he has to be truthful to you, his soon to be mate. His wife. “Consummation,” he says assuredly.

Oh, okay! You think. You would’ve swam through a sunken ship to retrieve a ring or even fought a shark for him, but this ritual sounds much better. You never thought that you’d be mentally celebrating the opportunity to have sex with a merman, but it feels like fireworks are shooting off in your brain. 

Before you can react, he continues, “Y/N, since kissing you my body and mind have not been able to forget the way your skin feels on mine. I can’t get over the way you say my name. I just want— need you, primally. I’ve been acting strangely all day thinking about whether you would say yes to being my mate, and every time I imagined the words coming out of your mouth I— I needed to relieve myself,” he admits. A faint shade of pink blankets his cheeks. “So again, if you say no to this, I’ll under—,”

You interrupt him, “I want to have sex with you.” Very smooth. “I understand what I’m getting into and forever is okay with me. I want you.” The thought of Noah spilling into his fist several times today just because you kissed him makes your heart pound.

His eyes widen at your confidence. “I trust you, Y/N. I’ll make you mine,” he smiles proudly. “You should know that I’ve never had sex with a human before, though. All I know about female human anatomy is from what Nick has shown me in,” he catches your amused, hopeful expression, “— uhm, nevermind.”

You throw your head back and laugh, but realize he might feel insecure about his knowledge of your body, so you cover your mouth and chuckle to yourself silently. “Noah, have you watched human porn?” You whisper through your hand.

He scoffs and grabs underneath your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the pool. “Get over here,” his voice is assertive, but the warmth of his face hiding itself between your thighs tells you he feels otherwise.

“Mhm,” you hum teasingly. “What did you learn? I assume you watched it on something you borrowed from your friend?” You try to push him further. The sight of the big, strong ningyo crumbling between your legs fuels the aching fire in your core. 

“Put your legs over my shoulders and I’ll show you?” He asks while looking up at you with dark irises. His fingers come to the sides of your bikini bottoms and you lift yourself so he can pull them down off your legs. “I’m confident that I can please you in other ways, but I want to use my mouth— which is something I’ve never done before. Let me know if I’m making you feel good?” 

You nod and bite your lip while spreading your thighs and hooking your calves over each of his freckled shoulders. You didn’t expect to feel shy spreading yourself open for him, but Noah’s eyes are studying your form and his fingers are caressing your folds curiously.

The soft touch of his fingerpads explores the area around your entrance makes you shutter. Noah’s thumb finds your clit and begins kneading your bud intently. “Right there,” you praise him urging him on. One of his digits gathers your arousal from your entrance before pressing into you slowly. Little by little, you take on the length of his forefinger as he stretches you out for him while his thumbs continue circling your clit. “Noah, can I have more?”

“Of course,” he agrees adding his middle finger into you. He pumps into you purposefully; he curls his fingers upward and listens for the sweet sounds to come from you that help him make sure he’s hitting the spots you like best. Noah takes your chin in his empty hand and gives you a look of permission to move his mouth to where he wants it most. 

“Just don’t stop what you’re doing okay?” You nod and nibble your lip. Bringing your hands to your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples over your bikini top, you’re eager to get off on his fingers. “Feels so good.”

Noah takes a second to ogle you, pleasing yourself, but since you’ve allowed him to duck his head between your thighs he’s there right afterward. He removes his thumb from your clit and replaces it with the suck of his lips. Like he’s been starving himself all day, his mouth and tongue move hungrily against your clit while he thrusts his fingers into your cunt in a focused rhythm. The sound of his lapping and the squelch of you on his fingers reverberates against the walls of the empty cave.

“Noah,” your hands reach for his hair and interlace with his dark, damp strands. “Fuck, you’re doing so well, baby.”

He groans between your legs and squeezes the outside of your thigh around his head with his empty hand.

When Noah described his primal urges, you had not understood the gravity of which it affects him. He needs this. He needs you. You believe that getting you off is an instinctual goal driving him to devour you with vigor. Squeezing your breast harshly, you anticipate how he’ll behave once he gets to thrust into you with his dick.

“I’m so close, Noah,” you choke out, “but I want to cum with you. Let me cum on your cock.” You plead to him, but he continues on with his movements; your announcement almost encourages him to continue moving his tongue and fingers in tandem. “Noah, please, I’m gonna— fuck, you’re so good at this.”

“Mmm,” he hums on your clit before pulling away. “Cum on my fingers. I’ll make you cum on my cocks, too, I promise,” he claims before returning to your clit encouraging your orgasm.

Before, your eyes sat half lidded as he fucks you up to his knuckles, but now they’re wide open. Cocks? Like, with an “s”?

“Shit,” the thought of your pussy stretched around all of him makes you come undone. Gripping the back of his head, you pull him in and hump his mouth eagerly.

“Good girl, use me,” he praises you against your skin. He allows you to squirm on his hand as you ride out your high. Your chest heaves under your hand as you lie back against the stone behind you. “Ready to come down?” Noah asks while pressing nurturing kisses along the insides of your thighs down to your knees. He softly unhooks your legs from his shoulders and places them over the ledge.

“Mhm,” is what you can muster as a response as you sit up slowly. While your brain is dazed, you still yearn to give all of yourself to him. Putting on a show for your soon-to-be mate, you undo the tie of your bikini top and drop each strap to the sides sensually. The top falls to your lap and you throw it over your shoulder into the slate cave wall. 

“H— Hold onto me,” Noah says distractedly. You take his shoulders under your palms and brace yourself for him to lift you off the stone ledge back into the pool. 

You expect to hiss at the cool temperature change, however, the heat of your arousal warms you and there’s no need to adjust to the Okinawan waters. Your skin, between your legs, your hands… Everywhere is hot with need for him. 

Holding onto Noah’s shoulder for support, you brush his damp hair back with your fingers. He melts into your touch and almost purrs with pleasure. Taking his chin between your fingers, you praise him again seeing how he wanes to your words. While being a powerful, fantastical being, he’s also reminded you how he is all yours. “Thank you for trying something new for me,” you tell him before pressing a passionate kiss to his lips.

He returns your kiss and wraps his arms around your torso snugly, pulling you into his. “You get to have everything you want,” he pulls away to kiss along your collarbone and up your neck, “now that you’re with me.”

As he kisses your neck, you feel the firm press of his pelvis against your upper thigh. You look down, but can’t see much through the obscured water, just the reflection of the moon through the ceiling and candlelight.

“Can I touch you?” You ask hesitantly while trailing your fingers along the velvety scales on his hip.

Noah takes your hand in his from his hip and guides into to about where a human man’s groin would be. His breath hitches as he helps wrap your smaller fingers around one of his members. “I know humans only have one. I don’t expect you to…” Noah pauses questioning his vocabulary, “Use both of them tonight.”

Excitedly and inquisitively, you explore his parts while watching his face twist and eyes roll back into his skull. Just from feeling, his cocks are stacked on top each other, vertically, with the lower one being larger than the human average size while the upper one is about one inch shorter. They seem to be prehensile having the ability to move freely in your palm, seeking your warmth. Twisting your hand up and down larger shaft, he’s wider at the base than the tip and much smoother than a human, besides the shallow, chevron ridges that line the bottom of the shafts. He feels so slick in your hand… His water-resistant precum coated himself as he went down on you.

He must have really enjoyed himself, you think. 

As you rub your thumb over his larger tip, you realize you’ve distracted yourself from the merman attached to it. He hisses under your touch before wrapping his arms underneath your ass and hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his hips.

“I need to be inside of you, so badly, it hurts,” he proclaims. “No more teasing.”

“I’m giving myself to you,” you whisper. “Please fuck me.” 

Noah bites his lip focusing on moving slowly regardless of his impulsions to buck up into you with force. With his large hands supporting you, he guides you down on his larger member. You feel it prod against your entrance moving itself up and down your slit.

“Fuck—”

“—yes,”

You two moan together as your pussy stretches around his cock while he lowers you. As he bottoms out on his flared base, you feel his other, smaller phallus rubs lazy figure-eights on your aching clit.

“That feels perfect,” you compliment. “Keep going.”

He leans in to attach his lips to yours and starts to bounce you on his cock. The saltwater moves around you in soft waves in response to your movements. With your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, he pulls you into his hips.

Noah continues to thrusts into you rhythmically while the sounds of your combined moans fill the empty cavern. “Look at you,” he smiles, his pearl tooth twinkling at your sultrily. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you mumble as your eyes roll back. You wanted to say how you’ve never experienced sex like this before, but you’re head is so foggy you can’t get the words out. The way you feel is euphoric. You mentally wonder if there’s some magical element to his precum to make you feel like every thrust feels better than the last, but maybe you’re stereotyping him now. No way that could be the case, right? You think.

Setting you to bottom out on his cock, he stills his hands to start thrusting his hips normally. Every sensation he brings to your body drags you closer and closer to your end. The circling of his phallus on your clit, the needy humping of his hips into yours, and his soft lips on your neck and shoulders all exhilarate you at once.

“I’m gonna cum again,” you cry out in a whine. Your forehead meets his and you shut your eyes to focus on his touch. Your pussy pulses around his dick to take him for all he’s worth as you reach your climax.

“Fuck, me too,” Noah announces before shutting his eyes and groaning through his orgasm. You feel his cum glaze your walls and it feels different than you would expect… thick, cooling, and sticky.

You hold Noah close and come down from your second orgasm with him. He matches his breathing with yours. Looking between the both of your chests, a soft golden light shines for the first time through your skin before it dissipates to nothing.

Noah looks up from your chest with a grin. “You’re mine now. I— I love you already,” he proclaims with a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, too,” you reply. Usually you would feel crazy for saying such words less than a week of knowing someone, but right now it feels so right. Resting your head on his shoulder, exhausted, Noah holds you close to his body. “Can I stay here for a while before we swim back up?”

“Of course, my love,” he nods and rubs soothing circles on your shoulder blades. “If you need to take a nap or anything… It’s okay. You can even pick out a book from my library, so I can read to you.” Even without looking up, you can feel the beam of his smile shining next to you.

—

NOAH’S POV

Y/N spent the majority of the night with me that night as we enjoyed having completed our mating ritual; I read to her as she rested on the edge of the pool and we chatted about our future together. 

She left the next morning needing to catch her flight to return home and she’s been away from me for two months. I can still feel all of her, though. I know exactly where she is, and my chest feels like it glowing when she happens to look in my direction.

Even with her gone, the past couple months I haven't spent alone, not just because of our tether, but because I’ve reconnected with my friends and with my love of music. I’ve been singing every day and writing new songs… Some of which are about her.

Besides music, only one other goal has been driving me to wake up every morning: finding a way that I can have my family, Nicholas and Y/N, to be here in the ocean with me whenever they like.

Following the rumors and pursuing every lead, I think I’ve finally found the magic I need and I can’t wait until she’s back in Japan for me to show her.

[shitouttabuck]

oh my god nina!!! 8 for the bedsharing prompts if it takes your fancy <33

thank you sweet peach this scratched an itch !!!

bed-sharing prompts: whispering “Oh, you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up.”

Eddie’s not old—he’s not even 30, despite the near-constant jokes about his senior citizen-isms he seems incapable of shaking. And he wouldn’t even say he’s a man of creature comforts. He just likes familiarity, and routine, and his own goddamn bed.

Quarantine has brought a lot of change: being away from Chris, living in a single-occupancy apartment with three other people, and sharing a bed with all six-foot-two of Evan Buckley.

Currently, this means waking up at some wretched hour and squinting in the moonlight filtering in through half-open blinds, because the aforementioned best friend has stolen Eddie’s pillow from right under his head yet again.

Eddie groans quietly, easing his neck out of the crick it’s cramped in. He glares at the enormous lump snoring serenely beside him and pats the mattress blindly for his pillow. Eyes adjusting to the dark, he’s greeted by the same sight he’s woken to at ungodly hours thrice this month already: Buck with his gigantic thieving arms wrapped happily around Eddie’s goddamn pillow as he clutches it to his chest, dead to the world.

“Fuck’s sake,” Eddie mutters, reaching out and tugging the end of the pillowcase to no avail. Buck’s vice-grip doesn’t falter even in sleep. Eddie’s usually able to coax it out of his grasp without waking him, but it takes a minute, and their last shift had been a full-body workout from hell, and Eddie just wants to go the fuck back to sleep with a single measly pillow supporting his exhausted head. Surely that’s not too decadent a luxury to expect.

He tugs again, harder and meaner than he normally would. The pillow inches out of Buck’s hold, and Eddie grabs a firmer handful to yank it away, grunting triumphantly when it pops free.

“Hrmmph,” Buck grumbles, crease appearing between his eyebrows. Eddie stills, holding his breath as he gauges Buck’s proximity to consciousness. He thinks he’s in the clear, but then Buck murmurs unhappily and rolls ever-so-slightly towards Eddie.

“S’your turn to be th’ li’l spoon,” he slurs, and Eddie freezes even further. “’M th’ big spoon t’night.” He pats half-heartedly at the mattress between him and Eddie, jaw going slack again after a few seconds.

Eddie grins, just barely containing the snort that bubbles up at Buck’s sleep-talking. There’s enough distance from Ali and even Abby, post-train debacle, that means he can wring weeks’ worth of teasing out of this. Whichever one of them it is Buck’s dreaming of, Eddie thinks multiple nights of interrupted sleep allow him a little good-natured—if merciless—ribbing.

He shifts onto his back, shoving the pillow under his head and shutting his eyes with a sigh, but the movement has Buck mumbling again. His face is mashed into his own pillow, words barely intelligible when he says, “Y’re littler than me. C’mon, lemme be big spoon.”

The snort sneaks out of Eddie then, just a bit. He barely knew either woman, but he can’t quite picture them indulging Buck in this line of conversation. It’s—sweet, if deeply mortifying for Buck himself to know anyone else has heard it.

Buck snuffles discontentedly, forehead scrunching as he reaches out in search of the pillow, still asleep.

“Oh, you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up,” Eddie whispers, wondering if there’s more entertainment about to be provided and if it’s worth getting up to unplug his phone and catch the tail end of this on video.

“Urgh,” asleep-Buck responds, patting the bed a little more insistently when he’s unsuccessful in his pillow-retrieval endeavours. “Wh’re—c’mere. Eddie. Y’re li’l spoon.”

This time when Eddie freezes, it’s such a sudden locking of every joint in his body that his neck cricks in the opposite direction. He barely feels it, singularly focused on Buck’s latest garbled complaint, because—is Buck awake? Is Buck dreaming about him?

He’s frozen so still he doesn’t realise Buck’s questing hand is now well in range of Eddie himself, and he jolts back into his body when Buck’s strong, calloused fingers wrap around his wrist.

“C’me back,” he whines, tugging at Eddie while shuffling closer at the same time. Eddie holds himself carefully still, hardly daring to breathe as Buck slowly but surely plasters his long, long body along Eddie’s side, hitching one leg over Eddie’s thigh before flinging an arm across his torso and dragging him nearer.

“Mm,” he hums, brow smoothing out. His cheek rests on Eddie’s shoulder, face smushed but seemingly satisfied. Eddie’s arm is trapped between his own side and Buck’s stomach, and he worms it under Buck’s body almost on autopilot, more to get comfortable than anything else. This leaves him basically cradling Buck to him, and Buck gives one final happy grunt before burrowing his face into Eddie’s neck and going limp, a dead weight over Eddie’s right side.

Eddie makes his fingers relax where they’re clutching the back of Buck’s t-shirt. This is—fine. Normal and fine. So Buck isn’t dreaming about cuddling an ex-girlfriend, he’s dreaming about holding Eddie. They’ve been living out of each other’s pockets more than usual recently, leaning on each other a little heavier through a global pandemic and missing Christopher. Eddie’s told himself it’s because of constant proximity, and maybe it is, but whatever the reason, if Buck’s subconscious is embracing that vulnerability in this way, that’s fine. He’s an affectionate guy, and while it’s relatively new for Eddie to be on the receiving end of that from another man, he’s not one to shy away because of someone else’s archaic ideas of masculinity.

And—hold on. Y’re littler than me? Was that what Buck said? Eddie huffs indignantly, and then huffs again for different reasons, feeling his cheeks heat. He doesn’t know why, but he pulls Buck a little closer.

It’s still normal and fine, he finds, turning his head to press his nose into Buck’s curls. That surprises him a little, that there’s no freak-out of any kind accompanying—whatever this is. Buck smells like vanilla, because he used Chim’s fancy shampoo that’s actually Maddie’s fancy shampoo because both of them are missing her something fierce, and he’s definitely drooling onto Eddie’s neck, and now that he’s not sleep-talking he’s back to snoring like a motorcycle, and Eddie’s slipping under before he can marvel any more at just how normal and fine it all is.

When the moonlight is swapped for sunlight, Eddie stirs to Chim singing along to radio in the kitchen downstairs. Buck blinks awake right alongside him, cheek imprinted with creases from Eddie’s collar and turning pink as he hastily peels himself away.

“Oh, um, sorry,” he says, voice rough with sleep. He contorts his body in surprise trying to roll off Eddie’s arm. “Did I—sorry, Eds.”

Eddie works his arm back under Buck, easy and deliberate. “S’fine,” he yawns. “It was my turn to be the little spoon.”

In his peripheral vision, Buck turns a brilliant red, and Eddie gives him a reassuring squeeze before taking great joy in telling him just how embarrassed he should be about the contents of his dreams.

(Buck’s mortification is blessedly short-lived, since the contents of Eddie’s dreams are equally embarrassing in the very exact same way, as it turns out.)

[quinnred]

Halo 4 Reimagining - Perdition Visual concept for the Perditions, a reimagining of the Prometheans of Halo 4 based me and my brother's thought exercises.

The artificial Forerunner world of Requiem was a paradise to be enjoyed at leisure, an entirely modular geography and biosphere allowing it's three managerial AIs to please it's creators. Upon the true horrors of the Flood coming to light, Requiem's purpose was changed to one of experimentation. The managerial AIs were given the goal of discovering and exploring strategies that may make their creators immune or unappealing to the parasitic scourge. They were given near complete reign over any and all Forerunner's within Requiem and were locked within their shield world until their masters returned. The boldest and potentially successful operation was Perdition, a project involving a hybrid of sentinel robotics and engineer nanotechnology to create replacement bodies for subject Forerunners. Volunteers were not even considered, with random selection of the civilian populous for conversion. The process involved gradual cell-by-cell replacement of subject body matter with engineer materials, the sentinel mechanics acting as the exo and endoskeleton of the body and protected vital parts. Perdition subjects would be homed in the pleasure facility Idyll Halja, where the Trinity supplied them a glut of stimuli to occupy these immortals for millennia under observation. This only entertained a few hundred years, their technological processing information far faster than their original human bodies. What followed was an eternity of boredom and eventual madness, with suicide in these regenerating forms and true reproduction being impossible. The Perditions would devolve and shift culturally as they tore each other apart and remade themselves, bastardizing their forms into ghostly gravity manipulating monstrosities. Unable to develop into the Meta-Stability stage of their rampancy due to their confines, the Perditions had been tunneling into and hacking Idyll Halja in attempts to breakout into the rest of Requiem. The Trinity AIs were forced to quarantine Idyll Halja deep into the bowels of Requiem and have been in constant digital warfare with their experiments. The Perdition's aggression has been so overwhelming that many other managerial duties of the Trinity have been shunned. Lord help any who may find their way into the Perdition's den.

[bomberqueen17]

liveblogging the aubreyad 1: Master & Commander

ok so. i'm going to liveblog my reread of the Patrick O'Brian Jack Aubrey series of books, in potentially more or less detail, because it's something to do and it's funny. Starting with book 1, Master & Commander, copyright date 1969, which I definitely first read in like 1991 when I was waaaaay too young to understand approximately half the references. There will be spoilers. There may or may not be an accurate representation of the entire contents of the series. We'll see how long I keep this up. I wish I could write it in the entertaining style of my Wee Precious Flower Prince Geralt Witcher 3 playthroughs of yore but those were written under 1) quarantine confinement, 2) incredible amounts of gin, 3) after collaborative sessions, and I just can't make that happen solo.

But I will do my poor, reduced, older and more sedate best. I promise that while these books are not quite as dramatically crack-addled as Witcher 3, they are weirder than you think, which is critical.

OK so. We start off swinging with the meet-ugly. In fair Port Mahon we lay our scene, in the year 1800 (or 1801?? we also start off swinging with never quite having the tiny details quite laid down), we meet our fair hero Jack Aubrey, a six-foot, well-built, yellow-haired lieutenant in the Royal Navy, a cheerful high-spirited cove who immediately pisses off the unpleasant little man sitting next to him at this chamber music concert by singing along to the music. Relatable reaction by the unpleasant little man, to be sure. Aubrey is having a bad time, though— he has not been promoted and he doesn’t have a ship so he has nothing to do but get in trouble, and his spirits are too low to get into a fight with the unpleasant little man, though he briefly considers it. We soon find out that the sole bright spot in Jack's life is that he's fucking his boss’s wife, which seems like a bad idea but who are we to judge. But lo! He gets back to the inn where he’s staying only to find a letter informing him that he has been promoted! He is now the master and commander of his very own ship, which we are informed is a sloop. Also throwing us into the deep end of Listen Baby It’s Just Vibes. The nautical language and technical shit comes fast and thick and if you just sort of roll with it you figure it out. Don’t Worry About It. There Will Be Context Clues.

Now that Jack is professionally fulfilled he is happy, and so the next morning when he happens to see his unpleasant little man from the previous night, he shows his true colors: he immediately bounds across the street and wholeheartedly, unreservedly apologizes for being a dipshit, like the golden retriever he really is at heart. The unpleasant little man is so shocked by this that he loses all his unpleasantness, has a really nice conversation with Jack, and immediately gets distracted by the sighting of a rare bird. Stephen Maturin is now successfully introduced, exactly as he means to go on as well. He is a physician, but his patient died and he's stuck without money to get home, literally sleeping rough because no one will answer his letters and he's out of cash. Jack meanwhile has a ship with no surgeon on it, and a vacancy, and they like one another, so it seems a simple solution. And so Stephen shall go to sea.

I suppose, really, that’s the genius of this series. The characters are round, complicated creatures, with obvious and consistent surface qualities but also equally consistent, apparently-contradictory, deeper qualities. Even minor characters sometimes possess this level of depth. Even the cartoony-awful little shit Harte (sometime captain, then admiral, the boss whose wife Jack has been fucking but in Jack's defense so is everybody else) has depths. Unpleasant depths, but he's got reasons and motivations and you do really believe in him; this pays off in book 8 in particular.

We meet Jack's first command, the Sophie, the loveliest tiniest little ship ever, staffed by a pack of utter weirdos. TOM PULLINGS makes his first appearance (he is my favorite supporting character throughout the series, so he will be capitalized henceforth) along with his delightful henchman (the other senior midshipman) Mowett who is James in his first and last appearances and most of the others but for some reason becomes William for a while in the middle, most notably in book 8, and has thus passed into the movie as William. Those are our master's mates, or senior midshipmen. In O'Brian's typical fashion we don't get really concrete physical descriptions of them in the normal sense, but instead get really evocative but nonspecific ones. TOM PULLINGS is "a big shy master's mate", elsewhere specified to be sort of gangly, long and thin, young, with a country accent and foremast-jack antecedents (i.e. started out as a regular sailor and was promoted, instead of the more normal approach where a family of means sends a son to sea as a midshipman), who absolutely blossoms under Jack Aubrey's leadership-by-enthusiastic-example, and we will see him through most of the rest of the series continuing on this trajectory with great competence and charming humbleness.

James Mowett gets a great introduction. He's had a few lines prior to this, mostly repetitively described as (and shown to be) cheerful and generally enthusiastic about things, running around and getting to be the one to fetch Stephen from the shore, and later we find out that he is a prolific writer of somewhat-terrible poetry, which we'll get plenty of excerpts of over the course of the series. But his first real description is:

“James Mowett was a tubular young man, getting on for twenty; he was dressed in old sailcoth trousers and a striped Guernsey shirt, a knitted garment that gave him very much the look of a caterpillar."

There are also the youngsters. Meet my beloved son William Babbington, a miniature midshipman of between eleven and thirteen who has every venereal disease and gets drunk a lot. He also cries and swears a whole lot, mostly while sober. I love him immoderately and we will see him in several more of the books. He never gets much taller or less obsessed with womanizing. Adolescence was hard in the Georgian era. (Yes, this is the Georgian era; the Victorian era does not begin for another thirty years.)

“'I suppose you grow used to living here,' [Stephen] observed, rising cautiously to his feet. 'At first it must seem a little confined.' 'Oh, sir,' said Mowett, 'think not meanly of this humble seat, Whence spring the guardians 'of the British fleet! Revere the sacred spot, however low, Which formed to martial acts an Hawke! An Howe !' 'Pay no attention to him, sir,' cried Babbington, anxiously. 'He means no disrespect, I do assure you, sir. It is only his disgusting way.”

Throughout this series, O'Brian so so so vividly shows and describes the many phases of awkwardness that young men go through especially in military settings. It's incredibly vivid; the breaking voices, the smells, the idiotic capers, the weeping, the complete lack of foresight, the incredible cruelty and also loyalty and bravery, the sheer adolescent enthusiasm coupled with shocking laziness.

We also get some insight into contemporary social mores through the introduction of Marshall, the sailing master (a warrant officer)-- 1) he's gay and 2) Jack Aubrey is extremely his type. Different people's different attitudes toward this unspool throughout various points of the book, but the critical point is that Jack Aubrey himself has absolutely zero gaydar and while he has heard the rumor about Marshall's tendencies, he doesn't care about that stuff, studiously avoids enforcing any of the regulations against it, and he absolutely never at any point relates this to himself, and never ever realizes why the man is so driven to excel at his job. Not even when an injury to his head and face gives Jack a horrible haircut and worse appearance, and Marshall is horrified and dispirited about it; Jack never twigs just what's amiss.

To be fair to Jack, many many many of the men aboard also respond to him in a similar, though crucially different, way. This is a common thing in this kind of cooped-up little setting; you have a guy who's in charge and gives you positive feedback and like, immediately you'll die for that guy, which is kind of how the military works because you may in fact have to literally die for that guy and it's easier if you're intrinsically motivated in some way. And Jack is very, very good at this in most cases, at taking the measure of the people under his command and getting them to respond to him.

(We can return to Mowett for an explicit example: “'You may light up the sloop, Mr Mowett, and show her our force: I don't want her to do anything foolish, such as firing a gun - perhaps hurting some of our people. Let me know when you have laid her aboard.' With this [Jack] retired, calling for a light and something hot to drink; and from his cabin he heard Mowett's voice, cracked and squeaking with the excitement of this prodigious command (he would happily have died for Jack), as under his orders the Sophie bore up and spread her wings.”)

Anyway so back to the plot summary: a very good side plot throughout is that the ship's first lieutenant, James Dillon, is an Irishman, and he and Stephen Maturin were both involved in the Irish rebellion in 1798. When they meet, James recognizes Stephen, and cautiously sounds him out about having met before, and Stephen very coolly replies we've never met but you must be thinking of my cousin who looks just like me but uglier, *so* ugly, he has the face of an informer, and everyone hates an informer and james is like Ah. You Are Absolutely Correct Sir We Have Never Met. This subplot develops into a delicious meditation on divided loyalties and the agony of staying true to oneself while doing what one must do. Highly recommended, A++. Begins to give us some insight into the various depths of Stephen, who doesn't understand tides or wind and hasn't the sense to come in out of the rain but has a deep and complicated history and identity and above all an incredible capacity for ruthlessness, absolutely none of which Jack understands.

Stephen and James in dialogue when they're finally in privacy enough to discuss it (Stephen is the first speaker, James the second):

“I speak only for myself, mind - it is my own truth alone - but man as part of a movement or a crowd is indifferent to me. He is inhuman. And I have nothing to do with nations, or nationalism. The only feelings I have -for what they are - are for men as individuals; my loyalties, such as they may be, are to private persons alone.'' "Patriotism will not do?'' "My dear creature, I have done with all debate. But you know as well as I, patriotism is a word; and one that generally comes to mean either my country, right or wrong, which is infamous, or my country is always right, which is imbecile." ''Yet you stopped Captain Aubrey playing Croppies Lie Down the other day.” "Oh, I am not consistent, of course; particularly in little things. Who is? He did not know the meaning of the tune, you know. He has never been in Ireland at all, and he was in the West Indies at the time of the rising. [...] But as for that song, I acted as I did partly because it is disagreeable to me to listen to it and partly because there were several Irish sailors within hearing, and not one of them an Orangeman; and it would be a pity to have them hate him when nothing in the manner of insult was within his mind's reach.”

uhhhhhhh but meanwhile: Jack Aubrey and the Sophies wreak havoc in the Mediterranean and make a lot of money and enemies, to the point that the local merchants band together to commission a fairly serious ship expressly to fuck them up. They meet this ship unsuspectingly, manage just in time to disguise themselves, and Stephen hails the ship and asks them in bad Spanish if they know anything about treating the plague, could they send a doctor over, could they spare any medicine. This scares them off and they go away. But now the Sophies know what this ship looks like and what armament it has. So the next time they meet it, they fight it, and so the tiny 14-gun Sophie with 82 men and boys aboard manages to capture the 32-gun Cacafuego with 319 men aboard, and it's very gallant and dashing and probably should not have worked, but it does.

And a little later, the Sophie accidentally meets a pair of very powerful French ships and gets taken in return despite doing some really heroic evasive manoevers.

The French are super nice to them, and we meet a French ship captain named Christy-Palliere who becomes a recurring character, who has English cousins and speaks great English and is both charming and nice, saying things like gather ye rose pods while ye may and being generally gallant. Until some even more powerful English ships heave into view, and the tables turn, but even then Christy-Palliere remains gallant and well-behaved.

We end the book with the court-martial. Any officer who loses his ship for any reason has to go before a court of sea captains to ascertain whether he did everything in his power to avoid losing his ship. So all the officers of the Sophie, including the midshipmen, including the surgeon, have to testify about this. (I feel like the other warrant officers should also have had to testify? but they weren't there and i'm not sure why. TOM PULLINGS is also not mentioned in the scene which he absolutely should be present for, so it's possible that they were just omitted for time.)

“They had each received an official notification the day before, and for some reason each had brought it with him, folded or rolled. After a while Babbington and Ricketts took to changing all the words they could into obscenities, secretly in a corner, while Mowett wrote and scratched out on the back of his, counting syllables on his fingers and silently mouthing. Lucock stared straight ahead of him into vacancy.”

Spoiler: the jury decides that there's not really anything more a 14-gun sloop could have done against two French ships of the line, so they exonerate Captain Aubrey for the loss of his sloop, and thus ends the book.

[twst-drabbles]

Floyd and Grim 1

Summary: One of Floyd’s favorite words beyond your name was ‘Seal.’ Whenever you hear it, it’s not because he’s seeing the actual animal, it’s because he saw Grim and is chasing him around the yard.

(Floyd being a little shit is always fun.)

“Seal!” A high squeaky voice almost pierced your ear as you fumbled with your newspaper, “Seal seal seal! Oomph… Seal!”

A wet flop, almost like a small body fell into mud before the yelling started up. Uh-oh.

You place your paper down on the table and got up. Seems you were sitting for too long because some of the bones in your spine popped. You ignored the slight pain. There are more important things to focus on. “Alright, what’s Floyd up to now?”

Seal was... an odd choice of a word for that cat. Why seal? Because he's gray and round? Probably. You don't really know any other cat that his specific shade of gray. Or has fire on the ears.

The stray cat that’s comes around, Grim you named him, has been hanging out more often in the garden. Probably because he’s figured out the little pet door you installed in the back. You’re pretty sure he comes inside to sleep in the corner, since there’s some scorch on the kitchen tiles and little bits of gray fur.

You haven’t put anything in his corner yet, not out of apathy but out of knowing the sensibilities of cats. The minute you put in something new in their territory, they either never approach again or they pee all over it. You don’t like either choices, so you just don’t.

You open the door and were not shocked by what you saw.

“Floyd!” You yelled out, knowing it was vain now that Floyd was up and chasing the yowling Grim around the yard. “Oh boy…”

From one side of the yard to the other, Floyd chased after the flame-eared cat with no regard for his distress. His ears flared brightly while sharp teeth and too-strong jaws opened wide and clipped just an inch away from Grim’s tail. No matter how fast Grim ran, Floyd was just an inch away from chomping on him.

In fact, Floyd was keeping up so well that Grim basically has his butt scooting against the floor. A weird little crab run, almost. A furry ball.

Floyd was clearly dinged up with bumps, bruises and cuts. Completely slathered in mud from the neck down but he didn’t care. Not when he’s running on the high of the chase.

How the cat hasn’t started a wild fire in your backyard is beyond you. Well, probably can’t on the account of what happened last time he did that. You can tell that thistle-like collar was not comfortable.

“Alright!” You stepped in just as they were in front of you and captured them both, Floyd by the tail and Grim by the scruff, “Stop.”

Floyd, upside down, swung himself back and forth violently, swiping his little claws right at Grim to try and grab him. “Seal! Seal seal!”

Grim practically retracted further into your hand, hissing. Seems he fears the little eel more than he hated you. Huh.

You walked to the tallest boulder and plopped Grim on top of it. And, of course, the minute you let go, the cat showed you his attitude by sniffing the air and raising his nose high in the air, as if none of you were worth his time.

You ignored him with a turn of your back. “So, Floyd.”

Grim, behind you, started a meow but choked on his saliva.

Floyd went limp now that his entertainment was gone. He stuck out his tongue at you and gave you a raspberry.

“You’re going in quarantine.” All those scraps and cuts along with the mud is a great recipe for infection.

Floyd whined at you, sticking out his grabby hands, demanding for cuddles like that’ll somehow make you forgive him.

“You don’t get cuddles Floyd. You get a bath.”

He sputtered angrily at you as you walked back into the kitchen.

“Hate you.”

“I know.”

Oh, he learned some new words. Interesting. You can’t help but wonder who taught him those.

[sadie-bug345]

greasers when they’re sick

i myself have been deathly ill for the past week so whilst i am bedridden i’m writing this🤡🙆‍♀️🤩 ANYWAYS LETS GO

ponyboy:

hates missing school solely cause my guy despises talking to teachers abt what he missed

also cause he thinks he gets super behind when guy just skipped one day of school😭

probably holes himself up in his and sodas room and when soda comes in to check on him after work it’s like PITCH black and pony is just sitting in a pile of tissues

”what do YOU want?” says pony with a voice similar to kermit the frog cause bros nose is SO stuffed up

and soda just assumes pony is in one of his moody, poetry reciting moods again and slowly exits the room, leaving only a baloney sandwich in his wake💀🤡😭

johnny:

def the type to not accept help

like he would go to school sick and the second someone brings up how his voice is screwed up he’s like 😐”what’re you sayin bout me?”

if the gang does quarantine him to a room he’d def just be able to entertain himself and prob come up with his own secret language and fictional multiverse or smth

idk he just gives the type to be fully okay with being alone for a bit but the meds he’s on make him all wacky too so it’s an interesting mix for sure

sodapop:

i’m sorry this guy has the most nastiest cough 😭

idc if he doesn’t smoke a lot he just got those mucusy coughs

other than that everyone’s having a good time, making jokes and feeling good and then soda pauses his laughter and unleashes the most rattley cough and then everyone just goes quiet and he just looks like 😃

definitely unfazed by sickness in general

until one day my guy just has the worst time and breaks downnnn🥰

we’ve all been there too esp when you’re sick and shit just goes downhill and everything sucks and you hate everything and everyone

darry:

now johnny doesn’t accept help but that’s NOTHING compared to darry

he has peak older-sibling syndrome and is just used to only helping other people

so when those people that he takes care of flip the script, my guy is just weirded outtt

like he def appreciates two trying to make him soup but he just doesn’t know how to react

goes lowk crazy with not being able to work or straighten up the house just cause he always feels like he’s gotta do SOMETHING productive with his time

dally:

i’m sorry but guy is def the type to go to school FULLY sick and either not say a word about it or complain like a lil bitch the whole time

also he totally smokes while he has a cough like soda which is so unhealthy i can’t even😭

just overall his habits and life doesn’t get upended by “some fuckass cold” (his words, not mine)

like bro please you just gotta rest sometimes😭

the gang is able to get him to stay at the curtis’ couch one day and bro just WIPES OUT

istg he’s out for like 15 hours straight in the full daytime and everyone is scared to walk past in case they wake him up

but dally is a crazy heavy sleeper so he actually gets a lot better after calming down for once🥰

two-bit:

honestly stays home from school like a normal person

except bro gets one cold and then just doesn’t show up to school for like two weeks😭

and it’s not cause he’s a wimp it’s just cause guy finds an excuse to skip out for a so called “vacation” and he rolls with it

and then he’ll just spawn back in on campus like a month later like nothing happened and everyone just expected two to take a dare too far and end up in the hospital🤡

steve:

CANT STOP WONT STOP

bro just pushes thru the pain😭

he probably takes way too much of the recommended dose of general meds (don’t do this please🧍‍♀️)

and then goes all loopy for hours straight

and people are kinda sus about it but honestly it’s steve so who is really all that surprised

LMAO THAT SOUNDS MEAN SORRY STEVE

ANYWAYSSSS i think imma post a romantic kinda sick reader x greaser thing so that’ll hopefully come out soon while im still coughing my lungs out🫶

[extrashotodepresso]

Bakugo X Reader

*Found Out*

This is an excerpt from a ridiculously long fic I made purely for my own entertainment. If you enjoy it let me know, if you don’t… *shrugs* reblogs are welcome , please do not share on other sites 💕

The title of the entire fic is actually “Quarantine with Benefits” but this is a stand alone snippet so I named it differently.

NSFW - DNI if under 18 - yes bish it has smuuut you’ve been warned.

Warnings: some violence, cringy as hell, unprotected sex (if I miss any let me know I guess)

Category: BakugoXFem!Reader , smut , angst , dumb feelings , KirishimaXFem!Reader mentioned but was never an actual thing , Kirishima is a pervert and a little crazy

When Kirishima got home that day and heard the primal moans coming from his roommates bedroom, he had smirked and even chuckled a little. His best friend Bakugo had been in a terrible mood for months, maybe he would lighten up a little after this. It was hardly an inconvenience to Kirishima in any case—Bakugo never brought girls back home and it was such a rare occurrence he was more curious than irritated at the explosive sounds of passion echoing through the apartment.

He had planned on just putting away the groceries he had brought home and then leaving for a few hours to go to the gym so Bakugo and his... visitor would have plenty of privacy. That plan quickly went to shit.

As he walked down the hall to sneak into his bedroom and grab his gym bag he halted when he heard what seemed like a very familiar female voice ringing out in pure euphoria. His earlier curiosity at who this visitor could possibly be began to overwhelm him. Was it a mutual friend? Or maybe some pro hero he knew?

“Right there- Katsu- mmhmmm!” He couldn’t deny the twitch he felt in his shorts at the luscious sounds - gods, he could hear everything so clearly - and despite himself, he turned from his own doorway to look toward Bakugo’s room.

The door was open ever so slightly, as if whoever had entered had attempted to close it but was too distracted. Kirishima was ashamed at the heat he could feel building in his core, almost disgusted by the increasing arousal he was feeling. He knew- knew - that he should just leave right then, but something in him couldn’t bear the thought.

“That’s right— agh, fuck — tell me what you want (Y/N)—“ Bakugo’s voice was strained, broken. Kirishima’s heart stopped.

Surely he heard wrong.

There was no way.

Bakugo knew how Kirishima felt about you. It would be completely against the bro code to go after you after Kirishima had pined over you for years. He wouldn’t just take you for himself, right? He wouldn’t betray him like this... would he?

His feet moved without him really registering what was happening. Years of hero work had provided him with stealthily quiet steps- even if you weren’t so...distracted you wouldn’t have noticed his presence. Kirishima peered through the crack in the door, at war with himself. His brain was screaming for him to look away, just leave... but his falling heart won and continued to urge him forward almost against his own will. He peered through the crack in the door, holding his breath as best as he could.

For a moment, he couldn’t see just who his friend was hooking up with; all he could see was the muscular expanse of Bakugo’s back, two long, shapely legs wrapped around his waist while he pounded into the woman’s soft, bruising flesh. He watched as Bakugo lowered his head, heard the demented gasps and pants and then the wet sounds of what seemed to be an incredibly passionate kiss.

Feminine arms wrapped up and around his neck, pulling him closer, dainty hands clawing down his back when he complied.

“(Y/N)—“ Bakugo moaned your name again, and Kirishima could practically hear his own heart shattering.

Having been best friends since high school, Kirishima had heard (and unfortunately walked in on) his friend in a few lewd situations before, but he knew immediately this was different. He noticed the way Bakugo caressed your thigh gently as he slowed his pace, melting into your chest and swallowing your moans with his mouth like they were honey.

This wasn’t just a hook up. Not to Bakugo.

Kirishima was becoming overwhelmed with emotion as he flipped around, unable to watch anymore. He slumped into the wall, though this was unbearable he had apparently become a glutton for punishment and couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Katsuki— please, faster... I’m— mmmph! I’m so c-close!”

“No. Not until you admit it.” Bakugo growled like some sort of feral beast, but Kiri could hear the undertone of need in his voice. He was begging you for something. What? What more could he possibly want from you?

“Katsu— you know I can’t- I - I can’t.”

“Then maybe I should just stop.”

“God, no! Don’t stop- please, please don’t stop!”

“Then say it.” Bakugo paused. “Say it, damn it!” His voice rang out almost violently- the pathetic whimper from you almost sprung Kirishima into action. If Bakugo was hurting you he swore he would—

“Y-you’re the only one for me Katsuki...” The words were yours. Quiet, but definitely yours.

“Louder.” The slapping sound of sweaty flesh increased in pace suddenly.

“You’re the only one!” You yelled out, voice raw with desire.

“Fuck— again.” Bakugo’s thrusts sounded even more desperate now, like he was trying with everything he had not to come undone.

“Fu- I —- hah—- I’m yours, Katsuki Bakugo— I’m all y-your-fuuuuck— God I fucking love you!”

The two of you moaned as you came together and Kirishima remained standing outside of the door , simply empty and stunned. He knew he needed to leave. His legs felt like lead, he felt the sting of tears threatening to leave his eyes.

He was completely destroyed.

A long silence lapsed as Kirishima tried to collect enough air in his lungs- had it always been this hard to breathe?

“Did you mean it?” He heard a muffled Bakugo, speaking to you. His tone was softer and sweeter than Kirishima had ever heard, fragile, like his entire world’s existence depended on your answer to his question.

There was a long pause from you, then what sounded like a kiss.

“Katsu... I... it’s complicated. You know we can’t-“

“I didn’t ask if we can, idiot. I asked if you love me.” Another pause, another sweet kiss.

“Yes.” You replied this time without restraint. “Yes, I love you.”

That was it. The last straw. Kirishima’s body moved before he could even think, heading to the front door and slamming it as hard as he could behind him.

***

“What the fuck was that?” You asked, shooting up from your place underneath Bakugo. He reflexively rolled off of you, also alarmed by the sudden slamming sound.

“It’s probably Kirishima.” His face blanched, his voice thick with what sounded like dread.

“Fuck do you think he-“ You began but couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence.

“I don’t know. Hold on.” Bakugo stood and shuffled on his discarded sweatpants before leaving the room. He was trying to look casual, you could tell, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes. You sat there for a moment, covering yourself in his sheets protectively, waiting for him obediently. Finally he returned.

“He’s gone now. But he was definitely here.”

“Do you think-“

“He heard us? Fuck yeah I do. You weren’t exactly quiet, princess.” Bakugo spoke with a mild smirk, but his tone made his concern evident.

“Shit.” You collapsed onto the bed for a moment, silence filling the room at your declaration.

How had you gone from insanely happy to pure panic in a manner of moments? The maelstrom of emotion began to overtake you. You needed to leave.

Rolling out of the bed clumsily you searched for your jeans- pulling them on quickly before beginning your search for your other clothes.

“What are you doing?” Bakugo asked, gruffly. You didn’t answer, your heart racing as guilt began to flood through you. Finding your shirt you yanked it on. “Yo. Brat. I asked you a question.”

You still didn’t want to answer, at any possible moment the dam could burst and you didn’t want to cry in front of Bakugo. Not now, not ever. As you began storming towards the door he grabbed your arm.

“(Y/N). Talk to me.” His voice was strained.

“I can’t right now Bakugo.” You shoved his arm off. “This is all... it’s just too much. I can’t do this.” Without looking at him you stormed out as quickly as you could.

For months now you had denied your feelings for Bakugo because you knew it was wrong on so many levels. He was best friends with Kirishima. Your Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being such a fickle woman. Not long ago you thought you wanted Kiri. Then you go and fuck his best friend. Worse than that; you had fallen in love with Bakugo even though your feelings for Kirishima remained unresolved.

You felt weak. Cruel. Dirty.

You hated yourself.

***

What the hell?

Bakugo was dumbstruck. Finally, you had admitted what he had known for a while— you had finally told him you loved him too. He was the happiest man in the world for exactly ten seconds.

And then fucking Kirishima happened.

Did you still have feelings for that asshole? Was that the problem? And what about Kirishima? How much did he know now?

Bakugo tried to take his mind off of it, going through a few beers while he zoned out to whatever was on the TV. He couldn’t pay attention, his mind was racing. Should he have chased after you? No, whatever you were going through right now would probably be better figured out without him. But what if he lost you and his best friend in the same day? He didn’t think he would ever be able to recover.

He cursed himself for being so goddamn weak. He knew the first time he had ever touched you it wouldn’t end well. Fuck, he knew the first day he saw you that you would destroy him.

Before you, he would have resolved this emptiness he was feeling by punching something, by going out and beating some poor asshole half to death. Old Bakugo would be flipping his shit now, but he reminded himself old Bakugo wouldn’t deserve you.

He needed to keep it the fuck together. Or he would definitely lose you.

He frowned into his beer, pretending to watch whatever was on. By the time Kirishima got back, he wouldn’t have been able to tell anything was wrong. Bakugo was completely casual, strung over the couch lazily and barely looking up when the front door opened.

“Hey bro!” Kirishima sounded as chipper as ever.

“Sup.” Bakugo returned the greeting. “You’re home late.”

“Gym.”

“Ah.”

“So—“ Bakugo looked over his shoulder, watching Kiri reach into the fridge and grab his own beer before walking back to the couch. “Had some company today, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically. Bakugo raised a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on— I came home for a bit earlier.” Kirishima smirked into his beer, but there was a glint in his eye that was making Bakugo uneasy.

“So?”

“Sheesh. I thought you might be in a better mood after what I heard.” He laughed, almost menacingly. “Guess she wasn’t that good, huh?” Bakugo clenched his jaw, feeling the anger bubbling inside but he tried to ignore it. He thought he could sense something in his friends tone, but if he was wrong... well he owed it to you to try not to start a fight over nothing.

“Oof, that bad, huh?” Kirishima snickered again.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo stood up and walked away, chugging the remainder of his beer before aggressively throwing the emptied bottle into the recycling bin. He was just going to head back to his room but Kirishima had already blocked his path by the time he turned around.

“Oh, did I strike a nerve? So what, is she like, your girlfriend or something?”

“None of your fucking business.” Bakugo scoffed, trying again to walk around Kirishima. The stubborn redhead wouldn’t quit, moving to block him off again.

“Now that definitely hit a nerve. Come on, Bakubro, let’s have a chat.” Okay. Bakugo definitely wasn’t imagining it. Kirishima was acting strange. “Answer the question. She your girlfriend?” Bakugo simply scowled, searching his friend’s eyes for clues on what the fuck he was thinking. “I’m guessing not based off of that reaction... so what, huh? She’s just some easy fuck?”

That was it. Bakugo lunged towards Kirishima, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him into a wall.

“Don’t ever fucking talk about her like that or I will fucking end you.” He growled through his teeth, his free palm already crackling in suspense.

“I know.” Kirishima spat. “I know it was (Y/N). You fucking asshole!” Kirishima had used his quirk to harden his arm, landing an immediate uppercut to Bakugo which he hadn’t anticipated. Bakugo stumbled back, adjusting quickly into his fighting stance.

“Don’t make me kick your ass, shitty hair.”

“I can’t fucking believe you!” Kirishima ignored him, swinging again and trying to land another hit onto Bakugo’s face. Bakugo quickly dodged and Kirishima’s fist collided into the kitchen island instead, blowing a chunk of marble off, broken pieces littering the floor. “You fucking know how I feel about her! You asshole!” He tried to swing again with his opposite arm but Bakugo dodged again.

Kirishima was in a blind rage, desperate to land just one more blow. Despite beginning this fight, Bakugo focused on defense, reminding himself that you wouldn’t be happy to know he fucked up your precious ‘Kiri’.

“How could you do this to me, man?” Kirishima was panting heavily, hunched over, fists clenched like he still wanted to fight but his anger had turned into something softer. Something sadder.

“I-“ Bakugo struggled to speak. He had deliberately stepped aside the very first night he saw you and Kirishima meet. It was to this day his biggest regret. He wanted to explain everything— he wanted to convince Kirishima that he had made the only reasonable choice, that the first day he had seen you, a piece of him had been stitched into that moment— he had never been quite as whole as when he was with you. He wanted to explain that you were everything he didn’t know he needed but now he couldn’t live without, no matter the cost. Kirishima would understand if he could just feel what Bakugo felt. This wasn’t some crush, you were his weakness. His soul.

Of course, despite the recent influence you’d had on him, at the end of the day he was still Bakugo so he couldn’t actually bring himself to say any of that.

“Just… shut the fuck up, man.” Was all he could manage to say.

Even still, there must have been something in his voice or face that caused Kirishima to freeze. They stood for a moment, simply staring at each other. Neither could bring themselves to speak for a while.

“Fuck, dude. You have to be kidding me.” Kirishima uttered and stepped back for a minute, betrayal and shock written on his face. “Does she know?”

Bakugo’s heart sunk.

“You know what? I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you.” Bakugo’s sadness had turned back into his cool cover of resentment. “Fuck you. I’m leaving.” He stormed out, leaving Kirishima standing amongst a pile of rubble.

What a mess you all had created.

***

Your apartment buzzer went off, you moved to the door and checked the camera to see Bakugo standing there, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Go away Bakugo. I don’t want to see you.”

“Let me the fuck up, (Y/N). He knows.”

Your heart sank and with moderate hesitation you buzzed him up. You paced in front of your door, ripping it open as soon as you heard his footsteps in the hallway.

His eyes widened in surprise. He had lifted his hand to knock, apparently not expecting you to be so eager to talk. You grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into your apartment before checking the hall in front of your door in a very paranoid fashion.

“Jesus, 007, calm the fuck down.” Bakugo snickered, despite himself.

“Shut up. Sit down. Tell me everything.”

“You’re pretty sexy when you’re being bossy, have I ever told you that?” He was leaning on the back of your couch, arms crossed as he admired you with an amused expression. You simply glared.

He exhaled sharply, walking around the couch before sinking into it.

“He was there. He knew it was you. He confronted me about it. Was pissed.”

“Oh god I hoped this wouldn’t happen.” You groaned.

“Embarrassed that someone knows you’re fucking me?”

“Yes, Bakugo. Because everything is always about you.” You rolled your eyes as you paced back and forth, chewing on your fingernail.

“What does it even fucking matter anyway, huh?” He said after a few moments of your anxious silence. At this you brought your head up to face him. “If he came here, right now. Said he wanted to be with you, what would you do? Huh? What the fuck would you do? Hours ago you’re creaming all over my cock saying you love me. You came to me, (Y/N). Not him. Me. You begged me to let you in, to make it all better. And I did. Because when it comes to you I do really stupid shit because I -“ It all came out in a tumble of words, the closest thing to confessing his tormented feelings he had ever gotten and would likely ever get but he couldn’t quite continue the last sentence. Your eyes widened, your throat dry and head spinning at the barrage of questions and lewd language.

“You still waiting for him to come around?” He kept going when you made no move to say anything and he could collect himself. “If he showed up right here, right fucking now, would I not be good enough? Is that fucking it?”

“Katsuki- no- I-“

“Well then I need to fucking know what the fuck I mean to you. It’s time, (Y/N).” He stood up, now. “I-“ another deep breath as he walked over to you. “Despite the fact that you’re a complete fucking idiot I love you more than I ever thought I could love another person. I want you. In every way. If that’s not for you, or you want him, this ends here. Now. I’m not-“ he swallowed, now unable to look at you at all. “I’m not coming after you anymore. You decide. I’m done.”

He walked to the door, closing it softly behind him while you were left to stand staring at the empty space he had occupied, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks in the silence.

[frostytherobot]

Alright. Because I’m thinking about Creep as a film series because they just announced more Creep in the form of THE CREEP TAPES (I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG… it’s not a movie but a TV SHOW!!!) I’m just gonna ramble a little bit about why those movies are so important to me.

First, though:

^ That’s my Creep tattoo. I got it over a year ago and show it off whenever I can.

So, onward.

I watched the first Creep movie for the first time during quarantine lockdown. It was like March of 2021? (Hold on, let me link the episode of my podcast for that.) (Yup. Don’t mind my pre-T voice.) That was like one of the loneliest times of my life. You know how it was, you were there, too. Fucking. Awful. I felt like there was just this bubble of sadness around me and nobody could get through to me. Sure, I had friends I could talk to over the internet, but that can only get you so far. Especially when they have their own lives and you can’t see them face to face.

One night, my two best college buddies and I decided we should watch it for our podcast. That was the one thing we could do that we could talk to each other consistently with, so we went for it. And, fuck. You can hear in that episode how freaked out that movie made us! We talk about human behaviors and the compulsion to kill and where that stems from, the relationship between politeness and gender roles, and lot of other related topics in that episode. It’s a smart film that knows how to suck you into the reality; you see these two men up close and personal, their odd behaviors, and the found footage formatting and intimate setting make you feel as though you are there witnessing all of this with them. As them. Those awkward moments make you cringe; watching Josef admit to stalking Aaron, catching Josef on the lies, tubby time. Oh, god, tubby time.

And then there was the ending. The moment where the camera is left in the car, you’re left in the car, and you just have to watch as Josef puts on the Peachfuzz wolf mask, flourishes his jacket, and buries that axe into Aaron’s head. The shot is static. It’s matter-of-fact, and that’s why it’s so horrifying. He’s dead. You followed this shy, awkward guy on his journey getting to know an oddball all the way to the lake, and he’s dead now. And then, the murderous oddball looks directly into the camera, and while he says Aaron’s name, he’s looking at you as he says, “That is why I love you. And that is why you will always be my favorite. Of them all.” Like he was thanking you for witnessing this event.

I felt like there was someone behind me for hours afterward. Josef had somehow gotten into my home. And that’s how it started.

Months later, we watched the second one. (Episode link here.) Of course we loved it. I loved it. It wasn’t as scary as the first one, but the intimacy and emotional connection was still there. That feeling of watching two people through their own eyes was still there. Only this time, they were trying to out-weird each other, or at least come together on a level they could both understand. The thing is, they were still misunderstanding each other. Sara is only comfortable with Josef’s Aaron’s freakiness because she thought he was lying to her when he wasn’t. The moment she starts to take it seriously is when she decides to leave, and that’s when Josef Aaron pulls out the lies and the deceit to bring her back in. And when she comes back in, that’s when she starts being genuine, letting her guard down, and that’s when she gets into trouble. She starts to believe in the watered-down version of Josef Aaron, seeing the front of softness as a vulnerability in him, and to a point, it is. But she totally disregards everything else that has happened during this day as some kind of ruse, when she should have kept those moments in mind. He’s still a killer, and dangerous, even if he plays it like he isn’t.

Sara ultimately pays the price for entertaining his whims. I guess Aaron did, too, but in a different way. While Aaron died and became a part of Josef, Sara now cannot get rid of him. He tries to kill her, and she runs, refusing his gift of death and absorption into himself, but now he follows her. She’s literally moved on, but like a ghost or a bad dog with attachment issues, he still follows her. He gave her his heart, after all.

And then I got to putting two and two together on why exactly all of this was appallingly appealing to me. I was alone. I was drifting further into this state of paradoxical nothing-pain. And suddenly, I was being welcomed into a dynamic in which I was wanted. It was an obsessive want, but I was wanted. He got me. They all did. Josef, Aaron, Sara. Suddenly I’m seeing aspects of my loneliness on screen. The slow reveal of the odd personality traits, the waiting to see the reaction. Pulling those traits back in when they’re not met with the tolerance I wish was there. The staying when I feel so uncomfortable because I want to understand. Upping the ante in an act of bonding. Feeling like I’ve found someone who’s on my wavelength, only to find they weren’t as okay with the whole me as I thought. The sudden urge to end it all. To kill the relationships. Move on, knowing they were dead, but I could still have the memories. They were getting distant. I could do it, you know. Just end it all right then.

Of course, I didn’t do that. But I felt it. I felt it a lot during that time.

I’ve not been super mentally healthy over my time being alive. I’ve been hospitalized for it. Not a fun experience, by the way. But that was another aspect that just drew me closer to Peachfuzz. He’s funny, and weird, and unstable. Always lying to appeal to the people around him because he wants them to stay, for sincere and sinister reasons. He’s terrible and lonely. I was terrible and lonely.

And there it was. Crystal clear. Los aguas milagros de corazón. I was taking comfort in a manifestation of something dark that I saw in myself. A mischievous, funny, isolated, totally fucked-in-the-head, murderous darkness. I wasn’t alone in that room anymore, and yeah, perhaps my company should’ve been something not so, well, creepy, but I thanked him for being there. I could put a face with the feeling, and the nothing-pain started going away.

He’s a friend of mine now. And I love him a lot.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Author's note: this is the next part of the bully(ing) Cato Sicarius fic. First Previous.

Next.

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: none

Summary: Cato escorts you out of quarantine.

Cato stepped into the room you’d been quarantining in for… You weren’t sure how long. They hadn’t given you a chronometer to track the time, and had given you nothing to do, other than fret and pray. You weren’t allowed to go through the endless stacks of paperwork that you knew awaited you. Not until they were certain that you were free of Chaos Corruption. You look up from where you’d been folding and unfolding the thin blanket that you’d been given in a desperate attempt to entertain yourself.

He was in one of his casual togas, the draping fabric accenting his handsome features and showing off a good amount of his well-muscled chest and both of his strong arms. He smiles down at you and murmurs “Brother-Librarian Alexius has checked your mind and soul for chaos corruption, finding you free of such taint. Not that I am surprised to find this. You are free to go, and I thought to collect you myself.” He offers you one large hand.

You take his offered hand, standing up and rushing over to him, hugging him tightly. “I had hoped that was true, and I have been so very bored while waiting for the quarantine to end. I understand why these procedures are in place, it’s just…”

“Grueling and annoying to go through them? I know how you feel. It’s standard procedure for Brothers to be checked over after a prolonged battle against the dreadful forces of Chaos. Not that those cowards could withstand the might of the Ultramarines.” Cato hummed, a viciously pleased smirk appearing on his face as he gently squeezed your hand, bringing it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

You walked alongside Cato, silently grateful for the fact that he was moving slow enough that you didn’t have to half-jog to keep up with his much-longer strides. From the way he was moving and glancing at you… You hid a small grin before asking “Would you like to tell me about your exploits on this latest battlefield, captain? From what I saw of you dueling against what the world we were visiting had brought against you as a challenge… I imagine that only sheer numbers kept you away from Maccrage’s Honor for however long it took to purge the foul forces of The Archenemy.”

“There were many of them. Nothing that I and my brothers couldn’t handle of course, but they kept coming in wave after wave after wave of foolish idiots.” Cato rumbled, still smiling crookedly down at you.

You smile up at him, going up on your tiptoes and giving him a kiss on the shoulder, as that was the highest point that you could reach on one of your much-taller lovers. “I’m sure you fought well, my love.”

Cato preened at your praise and turned to look at you directly. He swept you up off of your feet, one arm supporting your back, the other supporting your knees as he kisses you on the lips until you are breathless, pulling back just far enough to purr “That I did.”

You giggle a little, leaning into his chest as you press kisses to his face and lips, murmuring “MY handsome, strong, brave beloved… I am lucky to have you protecting me.”

Cato’s grin widens further and he kisses you enthusiastically “That you are… and I am glad to have met you.”

You kiss him again, and are about to ask Cato if he'd like to escort you all the way to your room when his vox started buzzing.

The smirk slid off Cato's face and he sighed before answering in his typically gruff manner “Sicarius here. What is it?”

There was a several second long pause as whoever was on the other end of the line talked. You did your best not to listen to the other marine talk, though his voice sounded oddly familiar… And not in a good way.

Cato huffed unhappily and slowly set you down, stealing a distracted kiss as he folded his arms over his chest. The frown on his face became more pronounced “And this needed to be reported to me immediately because…?”

More talking followed from the other marine. You finally recognized his voice. It was that Sargeant who had brought you His concerns about you dating Demetrian. L-something… Leonidas? No. Leandros. From his markings, he is also a member of the second company, under both Cato and Demitri.

“... Fine. I'll come and deal with it. I'll be there in five minutes. Just… avoid pissing off the Inquisitor. Father has already been informed, yes? Good. Try not to fuck over another Brother before I get there. Hmm? Wouldn't want what happened the last time you spoke with an Inquisitor to happen again. You know what father thinks of them as an organization.” Cato's voice went low and rumbling. Almost threateNing.

If Titus hadn't told you why and how he lost Captaincy of the second company, you would be very confused. As it was, worry churned through your body as Cato ended the vox-call and you ask “Anything I can do to hell?”

Cato looks at you for a moment or two before shaking his head “Try not to let the visiting Inquisitor or their retinue to get you alone. They… Really have not taken well to Father curtailing the power that they have wielded for so long, and…” he pulls you closer to him, bending over and pressing his forehead to yours “I would not put it past them to attempt petty sabotage of your diplomatic efforts. I need to sort out a minor issue.”

“Good luck, my love.” You murmur, gently squeezing one of his hands, kissing his fingertips. “I'm going to head to my office, try and deal with the mountain of paperwork awaiting me.”

Cato nods, giving you a brief kiss before rushing off. You sigh a little before returning to your own duties.

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Twice now I have tried to make a reblog reply about Walter and twice now Tumblr has eaten it. So let's try it this way @chaos-bringer-13

Allow me to take you back to the ✨QUARANTINE DAYS✨ and tell you the tale of a pumpkin that may or may not have housed a god

So back in good old 2020/21 we are in the thrall of the COVID-19 pandemic. My state in particular had super heavy quarantine restrictions, and as someone with lung issues, my mom and myself were not taking any chances. I haven't left my house in maybe 5 months. Nor have I seen any of my friends outside of video calls. Senior year of High School so far has sucked.

I'm talking to my friend, we'll call her Marie, and I mention off hand "Yeah I'm starting to feel a bit lonely." Now Marie has known me for a solid 8 years at this point. She knows my type of humor and attachment to what we would now and days call "skrungly" objects. She decides "hmm. I can fix this!"

Marie's mom (who was... certainly a human being) for some god forsaken reason decided to buy a white pumpkin and give it to Marie with the idea that she would harvest the seeds from it and plant them in the garden (why she did this instead of just buying pumpkin seeds I will never know). Instead of doing this, Marie takes this pumpkin and draws a realistic face on it that can only be described as similar to the handsome squidward meme. She drives to my house, sets the pumpkin on my doorstep with a note, and then FUCKING BOOKS IT.

I open the door to see this pumpkin with a note that reads "Hello Momther, I am Walter."

(Not the best photo but this is in fact Walter sitting in the dark in my front yard while Marie (not pictured) stands on my driveway holding a single candle and chanting).

Anyway immediately I take him inside completely smitten and unknowing as to what this pumpkin will create.

At this point of quarantine, we have gone back to classes but they are completely online. I decide that the best thing I could possibly do with Walter is set him on a stack of notebooks behind me so that when I turn my camera on he would be there... watching. Notably, one guy who never unmuted himself did so just long enough to ask "Void... what the fuck is that."

Needless to say I got endless entertainment from the reactions, but all good things have to come to an end. Unfortunately, I live in a desert and pumpkins simply don't survive. They typically would rot within a few days where I was living at the time, so my Mom told me to move it outside at least. I decide to put him by the front door. This front door has a little half wall that leads up to it. I put him on top of it facing the walkway so whenever a package is delivered the mailman would be faced with Walter and have to make eye contact before leaving the mail. I figure I'll probably get a couple more days out of him before he rots.

This is where it starts to get weird

Another week passes. Two. Unlike every single pumpkin I've ever had for Halloween, Walter shows no signs of rotting despite being exposed to the elements. The pumpkin is at this point about a month and a half old and still perfectly fine. Marie, our friends, and I all kind of laugh it off as a random one time thing and expect it to rot within another week.

IT. FUCKING. DOESN'T.

4 months into having Walter and he is still as good as new. Around this time the vaccines for covid started rolling out, so my friends and I get to see each other again. They are just as baffled as me about Walter. Of course, us being us, we have been referring to Walter like an actual person this whole time because that's just our humor. We give him little head pats and forehead rubs as we enter or leave my house and say hello/goodbye to him.

Also around this time, my mom and myself are beginning to prep for moving to another state. We have also started doing some in person classes again. I had been cleaning out my room one morning, and just so happened to leave a piece of sea glass in front of Walter as I left for school. I had a strangely good day. Managed to get an A on a test if I remember right. I come home, see the glass in front of the pumpkin, and start thinking. The next day I leave him something else. Another good luck day! I try this again and every single time I leave him an offering something good happens! I tell my friends about it and they start doing it too and experiencing the same results. We decide that he must be some god of luck inhabiting this pumpkin vessel and rewinding time on it to keep it from rotting.

At some point someone gave him an orange and I swear to god the pumpkin started getting orange marks on its forehead. He still wasn't rotting though! We decided that he obviously has been absorbing the power from the offerings.

Around this time I realise the I have somehow created a partially serious cult and decide I might as well lean into it. I actually enlisted the help of the neighbor kids to take this photo.

Time passes. Walter is about 10 months old now and still going strong. We have graduated highschool and I'm going to be moving in a week. I can't take Walter with me, so Marie decides she will take him. But first, she is going to help us move. It's a 6 hour drive. We put Walter in the passenger seat window so that all the cars passing us can see him.

After she helps us, Marie and Walter continue on to yet another state where Marie will be attending university. Walter is almost if not a year old when he finally starts to rot. Marie, in her dorm room mind you, makes a plaster cast of his head and redraws his face on it. To this day Walter hangs in his new, more durable vessel, guarding her spice cabinet.

By the end of Walter's reign, he had reached his 1st birthday, scared who knows how many mailmen, met 3 of my teachers in person, visited 3 USA states, and briefly had an instagram account.

[dragon-communion]

Okay so here's my wild speculation on the DLC.

The major fault in the current Golden Order, and what caused it to fall to shit, is the separation of life from death. Marika tries to hold the land in a ceaseless golden age, a ceaseless citrinitas, that is entirely unsustainable, though she supports it well with bread and circuses. That's the point of coliseums- turning conflict into entertainment, and her early reign was very characterized by war. Hence marrying Hoarah Loux, and then civilizing him into Godfrey to maintain her preferred image.

I digress.

Elden Ring has a constant theme of twins and duality. Malenia and Miquella. To a certain extent, Ranni and Godwyn. Marika and Radagon. But we know that there's something false and unnatural about Marika/Radagon, or else their children wouldn't have been cursed.

Here's my opinion on the childhood curses:

I think omen children come from making babies the "primal" way. I think Marika literally banged Godfrey, and the result was omen children. It's said that omens could happen in any family, and I really think that's because it's unnatural to have babies come from tree amber or flowers or whatever, so people would do it the animal way sometimes, and then omens would happen. Sex has just been... phased out of the Lands Between entirely by the time we get there, to the point that hugging Fia is "vulgar".

Marika and Radagon, no matter what the real origin of their duality, are incomplete somehow. They don't count as two people anymore. Children born of a singular god leave room for a second influence to attach to them regardless. We don't know what attached itself to Miquella. Based on the trailer, his "fate" involved St. Trina somehow, but we really don't know enough about what she is to him or what her real goals were. Malenia, obviously, had the metaphorical gap in her filled by Scarlet Rot.

However.

Each of Marika's children has expressed a variation of Death. She excised Death from her Order- now Malenia presents with Rot, Miquella has some affinity for Sleep, Godwyn is the Prince of Death (yes it was Ranni's fault, but still), Melina has something to do with Destined Death and has that strange eye.

I don't think that's an accident.

I think the seduction/betrayal mentioned in the trailer involves Marika's own duality. Separating light from shadow, life from death. She's the light. The Lands Between are bathed in light. She tried to peel out the pips in Yin and Yang and deny that each exists within the other. And following Fromsoft's theme of endless light and endless life probably being a horrible idea, it's all breaking down now.

The Numen are stated to have come from a different land, possibly a different world. Marika's people. What if the Land of Shadow is where the Numen came from? What if it's only called the Land of Shadow because she tried to quarantine everything that would obstruct her light there, and then she left her most fanatic son there to play Satan and burn the unworthy forever in a hell away from her and her Order?

I'm not sure what Miquella is looking for there, though he obviously is searching, but I think it would make sense if he's looking for the Gloam Eyed Queen. Yes, he probably feels pity for everyone subjected to Messmer, and I think he would support the idea of helping the people there, but his chief motivation has always been his sister and their curse, and I think it would be a wild departure of character for him to abandon Malenia. His flesh, sure. His power, sure. But unless we're wildly mistaken about who and what he is, Miquella's interests involve defying the gods and fate so that he can cure his sister. And who would be more diametrically opposed to Marika than the Gloam Eyed Queen, the woman who specialized in killing gods?

She obviously might be dead, but death doesn't really seem to be stopping anyone from being present or causing problems.

I think Miquella is investigating the nature of Death and Shadow, because the existence of these things proves an existence outside of the Order and Light, and therefore something removed from the influence of an outer god. Hell, he has to make us his own sites of grace, from what it looks like.

What do you think?

[caffeinated-eccentric-polymorph]

Here's an old short story I wrote around 2020 during quarantine because I'm trying to get back into writing fiction and coming back to this will hopefully motivate me (also I still really like it) 🩵✨

Remy Tintenfisch, scientist

Word count: 1925

“Wow, look at that one!” The kid’s friend rushed at his side to look at the tiny shark in the aquarium, gaping at it until their teacher, Miss Katelyn, ushered them along with the rest of the group. The trip was going fairly well considering it had only been planned a few days prior. A friend of hers, Marceline, had called her a few days prior to offer her class a trip to the aquarium where she worked. Katelyn, of course, had accepted: it would do the kids wonders to get out of school for a while, and they tended to learn better when things were presented in a lighter, funnier way. The trip, however, had been a hassle to plan, what with only a few days ahead. But they had pulled it off, and the kids were having fun, so Katelyn could only assume it was worth it. When she’d asked Marceline what the occasion was, she’d said one of her newest colleges wanted to give some kids a visit to interest them in marine science. Both women agreed it was a good idea, and there they were. The said colleague, Remy, was supposed to meet them in the hall, which is where she was trying to get her twenty-two kids at the moment.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok Remy?” asked Marc. He nodded, his notes in hand already, a nervous smile plastered on his sweaty face. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see,” said Marceline. Remy only nodded again before getting out into the hall just in time to spot the flock of children circling the big central aquarium. The only adult of the group quickly approached, ushering the small kids along with her. Her shoulder slumped as soon as they reached him. “Remy, is it? I’m Katelyn,” she said, shaking his hand. Her touch didn’t linger on his moist skin, and she lowered her voice, shooting him a sympathetic look. “Nervous?” He stiffly nodded. “It’s ok, they’re not too hard to entertain,” she assured, gesturing to the kids, most of which were already flocking against the aquarium’s cold glass. Remy’s legs were shaking and he stumbled a bit on his way to the kids, smiling weakly. If one was really honest too, they’d say he wasn’t walking very straight, though it was probably the stress.

“This is a first,” Marceline had said. “Is it? Does the aquarium never do those kinds of visits?” “Oh no, they do, I meant for Remy. See, he’s a foreigner, so his English isn’t always very good, and he has never been able to work up the courage to make a visit himself. He’s really easily understandable, mind you, he’s just a bit self-conscious.” “Oh, of course, don’t worry, I’ll give the kids a word about it, make sure they won’t make rude comments.” Marceline had smiled.

“Hello, small human children!” Remy cheerily greeted. At once, most of the little heads turned to him, some lingering, some returning to their observation of the octopus lazily resting on a rock not far from the glass. “I am Remy, the scientist in octopus science,” he continued. “Do you want to hear some fun octopus facts?” “Like what?” asked one of the kids still staring at him. “Like octopus can squeeze through one-inch holes!” A boy next to him made an approximation of an inch with his fingers and turned back to Remy: “No way, that's too little!” Before Remy even had time to open his mouth, a small girl staring at the octopus made a small circle with her fingers and held it between her eye and the animal, closing the other to see through it. “I think I can imagine it,” she said. Remy smiled, wriggling his hands. “Do you know anything else?” asked another child. Remy grinned. “Of course! I know lot about octopus, me! Is there anything you special want know about?” The kid hummed. “Where are the others? I thought there'd be more than one.” “Plenty octopus here! You just can not see !” “How come?” “Octopus can change color and shape for disguise like predator or rock or scientist in octopus science laboratory!” A kid farther back squinted at Remy, though he was too busy listening to the excited children babbling excitedly and trying to spot the disguised octopi to notice. The kid, Marcus, turned to his friend and whispered: “He’s very weird, isn’t he?” “Miss Katelyne told us about that,” his friend Luke whispered back. “It’s because english isn’t his language.” “Not only that, he’s just plain weird.” Luke shrugged, closing the conversation, as Marcus continued observing the scientist.

The group was now walking leisurely around the central aquarium, allowing the children to observe more octopi. “Tell us another thing about octopus Mister Remy please!” Remy stifled a laugh. “Ok, did you know octopus has three hearts?” The children gasped. “No way,” some whispered. “Also, octopus blood is blue!” “Is it?” Remy nodded. “Say, how many octopus do you have here?” Katelyn asked. “Well, we have seventeen here in octopus science laboratory.” “I can’t see the seventeenth though…” said one of the kids after counting. “Maybe that’s because we couldn’t spot him in his disguise,” tried her teacher. “Oh no no,” said Remy, “you have seen all of them.” “Then how come I counted sixteen?” “Ah, that is because science octopus is missing, no one knows where is,” answered Remy, laughing. “Why is it so funny to you,” asked Marcus as some of his classmates giggled. “Isn’t it your job to make sure they're all there?” “Of course it is human child! But some time, even scientist in octopus science laboratory has slip ups! And should not worry because octopus will be found eventually! Is not like octopus could overthrow human leader!” The kids giggled at his little joke, even Marcus cracked a smile, though he still wasn’t sure about the guy.

The following day, as per usual, Remy was the first on the premises. He was preparing the laboratory for a very important guest. The place was spotless. As the man leading (and paying for) the research arrived at the meeting room, Remy set out to look after his assistant, a tiny robot, which would not be needed during the meeting. As Remy was new, he did not partake in it either. He sat on the floor, his back against the aquarium, the robot at his side. They stayed in companionable silence for a while before Remy asked: “Want hear some fun octopus facts?” The robot was silent for so long the robot didn’t seem like it was going to answer, but at last it did. “Why not?” “Octopus can squeeze through one-inch holes. They also change color and shape for disguise like predator or rock or scientist in octopus science laboratory. Octopus has blue blood and three hearts too.” The robot made a low beeping noise. “Now is your turn for tell me some human facts,” Remy said to the robot. “For example: how many arm does human leader have?” The robot started to beep out an answer but was interrupted as its owner came out of the meeting room. “And good luck with finding that missing one! It can’t have gotten too far.” He waved to Remy, who waved back, and the robot took off after him, leaving Remy alone besides the aquarium. He tilted his head back to look at the octopus swimming behind him. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it as his colleague Marceline got out of the meeting room too. She came to sit beside him. "Sorry you couldn't assist. It's the procedure and all you know, it's a security thing." "It is quite ok, I don't mind. I think I understand too. Wouldn't want important information to go to bad person." She smiled. "Quite right, though I don't think you're a bad person Remy." He laughed lightly. "You don't know that." She laughed with him. "Well no, but I've been told I'm skilled at reading people." His laugh quieted out as he turned to look at her. She followed suit. "What?" "Nothing," he answered. "You are not bad person either." She grinned.

The monitors were beeping calmly before him as he nursed a coffee pitcher in his hands. "Remy, there you are!" Remy jumped. The pitcher slipped from his hands and fell to the floor, sharp pieces flying around. He turned to face the source of the sound, which was no other than Marceline. "I'm so sorry! Wait, let me help you!" "No need, no need, I am fine!" "No really, let me help, it's my fault." "No matter no matter, I will handle it." After a bit more pushing, she hung back silently as Remy picked up the shards. He threw some of them away, painfully aware of Marceline's gaze on his back. His hand too was painful and he looked around for something to cover the dripping wound with. He grabbed a cloth besides the cup holder and tied it around his wound, biting back a gasp as pain shot through his arm. "Are you ok? You got cut didn't you?" Marceline took a step forward. "At least let me help with that." Remy turned back around, holding his injured hand. "No need, look! It is fine!" "Are you sure?" He nodded as he bent down once more, picking up the last glass shards littering the floor. "Is there anything I can do?" He mulled it over as he looked up at her. "We should vacuum. So we are sure no glass is left." She nodded, scurrying to the janitor's closet to retrieve a vacuum.

At closure, Remy was the last to pack up. After he closed the lab, he rolled the legs of his pants and climbed the stairs to the aquarium. Before that, he had set his stuff in the vent closest to them. He took off his bandage to let the wound breathe and settled on the edge, his feet dangling in the water. Multiple octopi were swarming around him. One of them looked worriedly at the blue dripping slowly into the water as he recalled his day to them.

Bonus

The president climbed on stage under the people’s applause. His sweat glistened under the spots. “Hello fellow humans. I would like to thank all you for support during elections. As newly appointed human leader, I would like remind you all of the new regulation concerning sea-life. As you know, I previously was scientist in octopus science laboratory. Hence, this subject is very dear to my hearts.” As he was finally getting some water backstage, the applause still ringing in the air, a woman made his way to the president, escorted by two guards. “Mr Tintenfisch, your wife wanted to see you.” He motioned for them to take their leave, and she spoke as they did, embracing him. “You did it love!” Remy smiled, relaxing in her arms. “I would not have been able without you, Marceline.” After basking in Marceline’s warm hug for another moment, he asked: “Do you think they have suspicions?” She took her time to answer, weighing her words. “Maybe. Even if they do, I’m sure they won’t mind my sweet octopus.”

[xx-disco-inferno-xx]

new sonic au lol

it's kinda long so i'll put it under the cut (shadows design is under there too)

(copy-pasted from an ask i sent) everything is basically the same, except now shadow is a toon character created in the sonic equivalent of the 30s instead of the 50s. maria's disease kicked in a little later in life, and all gerald really knew to do was quarantine her in her room, so the only sources of entertainment she really had was stuff that was already in her room and a small tv that gerald introduced into the environment for her.

as per canon event, gerald was contacted by GUN to create a bioweapon for them, and conveniently being a decent artist, he drew up a lot of possible designs. because maria took a liking to the cartoons that played on tv, gerald ended up doodling some more cartoony designs to make maria happy. black doom (basically a god) found out about the bioweapon project and came to gerald, offering help in exchange for an explanation of the project. that's all, really. he pinkie swears. as gerald was yapping, black doom started viewing his art gallery and really liked one of a cartoon mobian hedgehog, bringing it to life with chaos energy, giving him toon abilities (which is also like a roundabout chaos control kind of). he was also immune to all sickness, and couldnt host bactieria or viruses (because technically hes not real), so he was able to come and go from marias room as he pleased, letting them become best friends. once gerald noticed, he started to wonder is shadow could maybe lead to a cure, so he took some of the ink shadow was made of to do personal experimentation with, lowkey abandoning the bioweapon project. GUN found out about this theft of government property and it led to gerald and maria getting shot, as well as geralds entire team (all of whom conveniently never noticed the missing ink), and shadow getting locked in an ink jar to go in GUNs archives.

in this au, all the events of sa2 happen, but instead of destroying the earth with the ark (which doesnt exist), shadow threatens to turn off the sun. the moon, eggman gets him to break in half, simply to show off his power and back up his threats, and the only reason his redemption happens is because he has a theatric streak a mile wide, so he has to be all dramatic about it, which gives sonic and co the time to turn him back to good. black doom, who had actually been the one to change up shadows memories, was not happy about his plans getting foiled, so he came back with the black comet to destroy earth himself, leading to super sonic and super shadow beating back him and the black comet in place of final hazard. shadow falls through the atmosphere and literally burns into ashes. this fall actually kills him, and he turns into ink again, but eggman finds the ink, commissions an artist for a design (hes a villain, not a monster), and gets a badnik to draw it with shadows ink, bringing him back to life

shadows abilities include minor shapeshifting, turning himself into an ink blob, and general toon physics stuff

might finish later