#sat on a pebble beach dreaming of soft sand

[seagull-scribbles]

I have to commit to bad decisions some times lmao

[mythicamagic]

Childhood: a Kohrin oneshot

Summary: Two teenagers sneak off one night to the beach, reflecting on their pasts. Despite the grim subject, Rin somehow always manages to make him smile. Kohaku x Rin oneshot

3,000 words

Childhood

Laughing, racing, tumbling, grinning. Gaped teeth, freckles, dirt between toes, teasing brothers, sunbathing, cool creaks, bare feet and squawking kappas. The scatter of petals and grass kicked into the air, the scent of campfires, sunflowers, crispy fish and cooking fungi. Assuring golden eyes keeping vigilance over her sleep, along with the steady rhythmic breathing of a two-headed dragon keeping her warm. These are all the things Rin chose to remember about childhood.

She remembered and kept them close, especially at night, gliding through memories masquerading as dreams.

In the years after travelling with the stoic lord and staying with Kaede at her village, her limbs had changed- becoming gangly, form lean and growing with burgeoning maturity. She'd adapted to her environment, forming strong friendships with her mentor and the Inutachi. However, despite her days being spent in quiet happiness, she couldn't help but notice a few things. A perpetual absence. A certain searching look in Sango's eyes whenever she glanced up from monitoring her three children to stare off into the trees.

Tossing and turning beneath the covers, Rin frowned in her sleep.

One person who remained elusive in both her dreams and the waking world was-

A crooning noise startled her upright, brown eyes flying wide. Stumbling from her futon and hurrying from Kaede's hut, she peered out into the night inquisitively.

From within the forest, she could see a faint orange glow peeking out between the trees. Tightening her sleeping yukata around her, Rin's lips pursed. She then stubbornly sought out the glow, bare feet padding over cool dirt.

She found him, as predicted, watching Sango's hut.

Kohaku stood, a little further along into his maturity than her. Even the dense shadows couldn't quite hide the changes in his height and features. Rin stopped the second he caught notice of her- a telltale wariness gripping him a moment before recognition painted his face.

"Rin," he said with relief, tone soon slipping into a resigned reprimand. "What're you doing out so late? You should be asleep."

"So should you," she smiled easily, rocking on her heels. She gave a wave to Kirara, who hopped onto Kohaku's shoulder after transforming into a small version of herself and mewling. "It's a strange hour for you to come back. Sango won't be able to greet you with a lively smile-" lively chatter broke off the second she noticed the older boy direct his gaze to his feet. "Oh… unless… you don't plan on staying long?" Rin murmured. Again.

For some reason, it was always the same with him. Lord Sesshoumaru's brief visits didn't bother her in the least. He barely had a connection to the village. But Kohaku? He should've been there, stayed there. She knew Sango missed him terribly but he barely made time to visit.

However, she didn't voice any of this. She'd done so before, and Sango's assurances never seemed to help him. Guilt continued to gnaw like an infected wound at her friend.

Rin observed his freckled face in the torch light, seeing the emotions swimming within vibrant brown eyes.

"You know I would if I could. But…" the silence of the forest swallowed up the remainder of what he wanted to say. Rin shifted her bare feet, drawing closer and taking his coarse, demon-slaying hand.

"Let's go somewhere."

"Huh?"

"I want to go to the beach," she said decisively, as though he had no say in the matter. Kohaku supposed he didn't when she got like this. "Come on, Kaede says the ocean air is good for you. Hurry, before everyone wakes up," Rin tugged on his hand.

Kohaku smiled slightly, giving in far too easily.

---

Kirara touched down on sandy shores an hour later, allowing them to slide off her back. Rin stretched and sucked in a long breath of salty sea air.

"Ahh! Now isn't that better?" she grinned.

Kohaku snorted and smiled good-naturedly, looking out at the black sea with a quiet, observing look. "I haven't been to the beach in a long time."

"Why not?"

Kohaku wandered out, boots crunching on pebbles until they were cushioned by sand, leaving moonlit footprints. "I want to say I haven't had time, but that's not true," he chuckled. "It just hasn't occurred to me to go. That I'd enjoy it."

At 16, Rin still didn't feel old enough nor wise enough to understand everything. She wasn't a firecracker like Kagome had been around her age, and she didn't see herself as a warrior like Sango. However, there were some things Rin knew how to do.

Following, Rin took his hand in passing, tugging to ensure he'd stumble after her. She walked right up to the shoreline, drinking in the dark, hushed atmosphere only broken by the sound of waves crashing against rocks.

"Take off your boots."

Kohaku blinked, raising a brow. His lips quirked, "you sure are bossy today."

Giggling, she wriggled bare toes into the sand- squealing when the cool tide rushed in and splashed about her ankles before drawing back. "You used to walk around barefoot all the time, just like me."

"When I was a kid," he reminded her.

"Are you implying something?" Rin huffed. "I'll tell Uncle Inuyasha you said that."

"No, I wasn't trying to say-" his hasty words cut off, noting her mischievous expression. Kohaku smiled and leaned down as though to take off his boots- suddenly thrusting his hands into the surf and splashing her.

Shrieking and gasping, Rin gaped with surprise- soon grinning viciously wide and leaping towards him. Kohaku quickly dodged. He began running, hotly pursued by the petite young woman. An unexpected noise rang out into the night. Boyish, happy laughter.

Earthy brown eyes widened and even as Rin sprinted, panting, she drank in the sound of Kohaku laughing. How strange, rare and wonderful it was.

Running fast and putting all her energy into her legs, Rin leapt at his back. Catching him around the middle, she collided hard against him.

With an undignified yelp from a demon slayer, Kohaku lost his footing, toppling gracelessly to the ground, kicking up sand. Giggling breathlessly, Rin spat some from her mouth and lifted her head.

"You went down easy. Are you sure you slay demons?" she teased, nestling against the warmth of his back.

Kohaku shifted, shaking sand from his ponytail and adjusting their positions so that they were facing each other, laying on their sides. He wiped his face, expression clearly trying to remain unaffected and firm- but breaking into a tender smile.

"You always do this," he mused quietly.

"Hm? I don't think I've ever tackled you into the sand before," Rin felt fairly confident about that.

"That's not what I mean, it's just that you always make me feel... something different. Something good."

"But we had that argument about how best to stew nettles the other day," she pointed out.

A chuckle escaped him, soulful gaze sober. "Even that felt good to me."

Tilting her head against the dry, soft dune, both fell silent. Despite being a chatter-box, Rin also knew when to be quiet and let him talk. Her hand inched out naturally for his, and Kohaku accepted it, grasping her palm in a way that made her feel secure and safe. They'd known each other for many years so some things came as easy as breathing. Other things, like talking about it, came slowly, painfully.

"Why won't they go away?" Kohaku murmured in a hushed tone for only her to hear. "The nightmares. The memories," his gaze shook. "I just want to stop seeing it every time I look at Sango, but its there, in the back of my mind. I don't... feel right being around my nieces and nephew."

"You're still scared you'll hurt them?" there was no judgment in her tone. Assuring him that Naraku was dead and gone didn't help. Kohaku was perfectly aware of that.

The young man ducked his head, lips thin. His larger, rougher hand in hers trembled. "What if it's still there?" he whispered. "The compulsion to hurt people. I could be living my life- I could marry-" his eyes avoided hers. "Have children, but then one day I hear his voice again and the memory is too strong to resist. I could do something awful."

Dark brows pulled together, heart-squeezing in her ribcage. She wanted to help so badly. However, there was nothing she could do but keep trying to assure him and listen. "Even if you hear him, I believe in you, Kohaku," Rin stroked a thumb over his scarred knuckles. "You'd fight it. You're getting stronger all the time."

He looked exhausted, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "I'm so tired of being scared," he mumbled, glancing wearily at her. "You're still scared too, aren't you?"

Her face lost its girlish innocence, becoming firm as she sat up. "I've told you before- I'm not afraid of you, Kohaku!" she insisted hotly. "I haven't been since I was 8!"

Kohaku shifted his muscular body, and it was times like those she noticed how much larger and different he'd become. She blushed slightly but kept her expression serious.

"I wasn't talking about that," he chuckled, gaze becoming gentle. Careful fingers minded some dark hair from her face. "Your nightmares. You still have nightmares about your childhood too, right?"

Rin blinked, feeling cold and releasing his hand to wrap both arms around herself. The brush of cool night air gliding over her skin suddenly felt a little too chilly.

A soft croon rumbled out seconds before Kirara's large form settled down behind them. Lustrous buttercup coloured fur bumped against Rin's back, and she nestled against the nekomata's side gratefully.

"We don't have to discuss it if you don't want to," Kohaku said with concern, leaning back against the demon as well.

Forcing a cheery smile, Rin shook her head. "I'm fine- I've actually come up with something that helps me sleep most nights now, and I thought it might help you too."

"What is it?"

Tilting her head back to gaze at the stars above, she smiled a little more naturally. "I think of all the good things in my childhood. Laughing, racing, tumbling, grinning. Gaped teeth, freckles, dirt between toes, teasing brothers, sunbathing, cool creaks, bare feet and squawking kappas. The scatter of petals and grass kicked into the air, the scent of campfires, sunflowers, crispy fish and cooking fungi. Assuring golden eyes keeping vigilance over my sleep, along with the steady rhythmic breathing of a two-headed dragon keeping me warm."

Kohaku stared at her with no short amount of amazement. He swallowed and looked down at the sand.

"You're strong," he breathed. "To be able to separate all the good things from the bad."

"You can do it too," grabbing his hand again, Rin inched closer with an encouraging nod. "Tell me some things you remember. Happy things."

Kohaku blushed a little at her proximity and cleared his throat, thinking. "Sango. She was always there for me."

"What else?"

His eyes seemed to haze slightly, "Father…"

"Push through it, Kohaku," she murmured. "There was a time before all the bad stuff. Was he kind?"

Kohaku blinked, firm fingers squeezing hers as he came back to himself, exhaling. He chuckled shyly, "he was a little strict, but he meant well."

Rin shifted closer, resting beside him shoulder to shoulder, knee bumping his. Kohaku rested his head back against Kirara's soft fur and began recounting things long since buried. Things he hadn't thought he could remember or appreciate anymore. The guilt was there, it always would be, but it felt further away, replaced with a bitter-sweet tang.

"Practicing, running, training, laughing, chasing yellow nekomatas," he scratched Kirara's ear. "Butterflies, bare-feet, hunting- freeing rabbits from traps because I didn't want to see them get killed. Father yelling. Father's hand gently resting on my h-head," the words stumbled. "Playing, flower gathering, flying on Kirara. The smell of the blacksmiths. Sweat. Forging weapons. Sango snoring."

Rin gasped and giggled, watching as his fingers slid through the gaps between her own.

"Warming my hands on the brazier. Talking. Listening. Stories around the campfire. Demon slayers, family," Kohaku murmured, voice thick with memories. He closed his eyes, falling silent.

"You did really well," cuddling against him, Rin pecked his cheek.

Kohaku glanced down at her, "I haven't talked about that stuff out loud before. I didn't think I could anymore."

Grinning, she put her nose in the air, imitating Jaken. "Humph well, I am rather good at talking. Getting other people to talk is my speciality ~"

Chuckling, he nudged his free hand against her forehead gently, brown eyes incredibly warm. "Can we do this again sometime? There's probably more we can remember."

Blinking, Rin gentled and squeezed his fingers, "of course we can. Anytime, Kohaku. But you know… Sango might want to hear some of this too- when you're ready," she added quickly.

His face became a touch more guarded, which broke her heart. He was so afraid of hurting Sango again. For a demon slayer, the young man was heavily weighed down by empathy.

Rin touched his freckled cheek, "Kohaku?"

He shook his head slightly and gave a smile to show he was alright. "Never mind that. How'd you get to be so brave talking about this stuff?"

Humming, she let her fingers linger, dragging down to his jaw. It looked and felt strong beneath her touch. "I probably couldn't talk about it out loud if you weren't here. You make me feel brave."

Before her fingers left his face, her hand was caught. Kohaku pushed it back to rest against his cheek, tilting his face into her palm.

"Likewise," he mumbled.

Cheeks warming, Rin felt her heart stutter and thrum wildly in her chest. It was weird. Kohaku was so incredibly dear to her. She loved being close to him, but lately, butterflies just wouldn't stop fluttering in her stomach.

Seeming to sense her confusion, Kohaku released her slack hand and gently returned it to her. He then turned to his boots and began tugging them off.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm doing as you bossily suggested earlier," standing, he gave a small smile, offering a hand down to her.

Rin accepted it, following as he walked to the shoreline. Stepping onto the wet sand, a noise of surprise and shook escaped the demon slayer as the tide rushed in.

Biting her lip, Rin tried and failed to suppress mirthful laughter. "Did you just squeal?"

"No. You're imagining things," Kohaku grinned.

The ocean lapped around their ankles, slowly receding, before sweeping a fresh wave of cool, dark water against their skin.

Kohaku gradually adjusted, looking out at the endless stretch of ocean brightened by the moon. Rin breathed in a lungful of the fresh air, slowly relaxing with him.

The tired lines beneath Kohaku's kind eyes seemed to soften, not entirely going away, but his face appeared young once more, gaining a healthy glow.

Rin held onto his hand throughout. He was the only one she felt so strangely at peace with. Lord Sesshoumaru and Kaede were protective presences, but neither really knew her, or her secrets. No one understood everything that had happened in her life, though she'd divulged some things.

She'd told Kohaku everything. When the boys at the village whispered among themselves that she was strange, a shape-shifter, a hanyou girl in disguise, Rin would smile. Because they didn't need to know or understand. Kohaku accepted her oddness, an outlier himself. Perhaps they were Hanyou children in a way.

Like Uncle Inuyasha, they didn't quite fit into human society. They were too strange. Too changed, different because of what they'd seen and experienced, never quite meshing despite their best efforts to.

But that was alright.

She'd asked Uncle Inuyasha about it once, Lord Sesshoumaru in their presence. Inuyasha had met Sesshoumaru's gaze, voice gruff.

"Well, there was no place for me, so I had to make one for myself, and then I realized, I had a place, but I was the only one in it."

Lord Sesshoumaru had seemed quiet and considering of his words.

Rin understood. Gazing at Kohaku right then, she felt he would too. The two humans who had died too young. Kohaku was part of her space, and she was in his.

Catching her eye, he smiled. Just as naturally as holding hands, he leaned down and rested their foreheads together. Rin let out a whoosh of hot air, lashes fluttering shut. The press of his head against hers felt intimate and sweet.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and shifted her head, lips inches from his, face burning. Kohaku's eyes cracked open wide, before gazing solemnly at her. He wrestled with something- and she thought he might pull away.

Kohaku then snuffed out the rest of the distance between them, lips pressing against hers in a chaste kiss.

White-hot feeling burst within the young woman like shooting stars. Butterflies turned into hummingbirds. Her lips burned.

They pulled away, both avoided each other's gazes a moment, reeling. They then caught one another's eye and slowly, shyly smiled. Because they were still the same, just a little different from before.

"Let's go back to the village," Kohaku murmured, noticing the first hues of sunlight brightening the horizon. "I think… I'll try talking to Sango."

Rin nodded, smiling with palpable relief.

He glanced at her, expression remaining vulnerable, fragile heart laid bare for her to see. Kohaku trusted her to handle it gently.

"And Rin?"

"Yes?"

He blushed slightly, squeezing her hand. "Let's come back to the beach sometime soon."

Rin's face burst into a wide grin, giggling a little breathlessly.

"I'd love to!"

---

End

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #1: That Night in Mykonos

[Heatwave // Godless] [Drabble Masterlist]

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: That one not-so-forgotten filthy drunken night in Mykonos that you and Taehyung never speak about again. For good reason.

Genre: drabble, smut

Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do it), beach sex, oral (m/f), taehyung’s tongue technology, dom!Tae, daddy kink, exhibitionism kink, facial (lol oop), cumplay, spanking, degradation if you count slapping your face with his dick, may make you fall in love with this couple even more soz

Word count: 6k (why am i incapable of making even a drabble short and quick?)

A/N: As per highly requested… :) If you’ve randomly stumbled upon this, definitely read Heatwave first to understand the plot.

.

The gentle washing of the waves sings a lullaby to your ears. You have always loved the sound of the ocean, so serene, yet holding so much power. Wiggling your toes, you watch the minute grains of sand trickle off your feet like a waterfall. Nonchalant, you take a swig of cider, its fruity acidity burning a bittersweet trail down your throat.

‘Man, I fucking love Mykonos.’ Taehyung slurs beside you, tipsy from his fourth bottle of beer he’s clutching like a trophy.

‘Thank you again for bringing me here, Taehyung.’

The two of you are sat on a towel by the beach, watching the moon paint its own reflection in the water. Sky crystal clear, as it is every single night here in Greece, the constellations hanging over your heads set a tranquil tone to the last evening of your trip.

‘Hey, what did I say? Stop thanking me. Now you have to finish your drink.’ Playfully, he flicks the tip of your nose in reprimand.

Grinning, you roll your eyes but follow his stupid rule. Not that you can’t hold your liquor, but this is your seventh drink, and you’re starting to feel it pulsating up to your head.

‘No, but you were right.’ Words tumble out of his pretty lips that you can’t help but admire. ‘It was a good call not to go out tonight. If we actually went hard at VOID, our flight tomorrow would be hell.’ He is referring to the club you have been religiously visiting almost every night this week. ‘This is much better. Nice and chill.’

With a mighty sigh, he falls onto his back, head hitting the edge of the towel, narrowly missing sand invasion in his hair. Rolling your empty bottle away, you join beside him.

‘This has to be the weirdest but also best holiday of my life.’ You ruminate. The stars are shining particularly bright tonight, you wonder if they know it’s your last night here and want to bid farewell.

The chesty chuckle Taehyung lets out reverberates into you. ‘Definitely the weirdest.’ He turns his head to face you. ‘I can’t believe I’m in Mykonos with this random chick I met in the club, who offered to rent me her place, so I guess she’s now my roommate, when this whole trip was planned to be a surprise for my girlfriend who had been cheating on me for months.’

Taehyung is especially chatty and vivacious when drunk, you’ve noticed from the past few days. Normally he’s laid back, spaced out even. But give him some booze, and all his emotions and thoughts cartwheel out of him. Though you’re only beginning to know him, he’s immensely interesting, you can tell he holds so many layers to him that requires inquisition over time.

‘Wow, random chick from the club? Bitch, you ripped out my hair.’ You laugh and smack at his chest, hand lingering for a little too long.

Wait, chest smack? Why are you using your classic move on him?

You’re a flirt, you can’t help it. The cider’s doing its thing, you guess.

‘Man, I’m so sorry about that, you have no idea how awful I felt.’ He inches closer to you until his head is rested upon your shoulder. Right, he’s also especially touchy when drunk. Anyone who walks past right now could mistaken you as close friends, when in reality, you’ve known each other no more than a month.

To be completely fair, you have spent everyday of this said month together since that club night, helping him move in and unpack, and now travelling together. You guess you’re kind of friends now.

‘These past few weeks have been so crazy. I was just trying to have a good night out when a wild Kim Taehyung appeared and somersaulted into my life. And now we’re lying by the Mediterrenean sea together, tanned and drunk.’ His hair is tickling your neck so you push it away. Your fingers brush against his forehead and he hums at the contact.

‘But hey, on a serious note, hand on heart,’ Taehyung gazes up at you, ‘I’m so glad I got to do this with you. You are one of the coolest people I know, and I wouldn’t have wanted to come here with anyone else. Not like I have anyone else right now… My ex can go fuck herself, or fuck Jimin. I have a bigger dick anyway.’

You sit up, choking on your laughter. Out of the blue, he’ll always hit you with these one-liners that are absolutely pure gold. ‘Okay, Mr. I’ve-Fucked-Nine-Girls-This-Week.’

Pride beaming from his smile, he tugs you back down beside him. ‘Hey, I was in a relationship for three years, I need this. Miss I-Had-A-Threesome-With-Two-Guys-On-Our-First-Night.’

The two of you splutter your drunken giggles. The two guys were Italian, come on, how could you have passed up on the opportunity?

Despite the time of evening, the breezes that gust pass are humid. The temperature is perfect, actually, no sun blazing down to melt you into puddles. You’re probably too drunk to appreciate this moment but one day you’ll look back at this night cherishingly, you hope.

‘You’re right. I’m glad I came with you, Taehyung.’ It’s your turn to look at him. ‘I’ll get such an earful from Lotta when I get back but it’s all worth it. I can’t believe we got away with half of the things that we did!’

‘I know right?’ His arm feels particularly warm against you. It may be the alcohol working its magic but his voice sounds so deep and mellow tonight, like dark chocolate dissolving in your mouth. ‘The way they upgraded our room to a premium when we pretended to be a couple on our honeymoon.’

The memory is fuzzy but fond in your inebriated mind. ‘You’re welcome. I’m a master bullshitter.’

‘We even got that couple’s spa treatment and free wine and dine night.’

To be completely honest, it wasn’t difficult pretending to be loved up newly-weds. A lot of that affection you were displaying towards Taehyung wasn’t fake; he’s this perfect specimen of a man, gorgeous face, toned body, captivating personality, quirky humour - anyone’s dream boyfriend, really. You’ve tried to tone your attraction to him down, you can’t be lusting over your new roommate after all. Things would get too messy. But it was just for fun anyway, there’s no harm in a few pretend embraces and neck kisses to get those couple’s perks.

You’re just friends.

Though a part of you envies the nine girls he’s slept with this holiday, because you’ve seen the outline of his bulge in his swim trunks and Holy Shit… But as much as you like to fuck around, there’s a clear line that separates roommates and guys you bang. Those are two mutually exclusive groups of people in your life, the Venn Diagram does not intersect.

‘Hey, you wanna go for one last swim?’ You’re pulled from your thoughts by Taehyung’s suggestion.

It’s a bad idea, swimming this late at night, having downed a few bottles. But when has your inner conscience ever stopped you from doing what you want?

‘’Course.’ He is already removing his shirt as he stands, and you can all but ogle at the muscle of his moonlit back as you reply.

Following his action, you turn away from him and peel off your shorts that have stuck to your skin from sitting for so long. Are you perhaps trying to tempt him with the view of your bent over ass? Hmm, possibly… He does pay an awful lot of attention to your rear every time you wear these shorts... Carelessly flinging your top onto the rest of your things, you spy him staring at you in your periphery, hands stuffed into his shorts pockets. You adjust the pad of your bikini top, perhaps more dramatic than you needed to.

A smirk plays at your mouth. Why are you trying to get his attention?

Feet sinking into the soft sand, you pad after him towards the calm beckoning water. Your head is feeling hazy from the ciders, and when you spot the lazy smile he’s wearing, you know it’s hitting him too. Gazing up at the moon, you realise you feel blue. Not blue in a sad melancholic sense. But blue as in cool, relaxed, heart-at-peace blue; you’re going for one last night swim in the most beautiful country with your handsome new roommate, blue. A hint of romantic lyricism. Maybe.

‘I’m really gonna mis- Taehyung!’ You screech into the quiet night when he all of a sudden picks you up and carries you bridal-style into the sea.

And tosses you into the water.

Arms flailing midair, you’re catapulted into the waves like a pebble. The cold hits your curled spine first, harsh and shocking. Then it detonates within you, a volcano of ice numbing all your senses and aching your bones.

When you find your bearings and gasp up for air, you see him, ocean up to his knees, head whipped back in laughter, clutching his tensing core, eyes pinched into crescents as the most warming sound leaves his mouth.

‘You piece of shit!’ You lunge for him, but your limbs feel heavy in the water, restricting the power of your attack that he dodges so effortlessly.

But you don’t give up so easily. Tide washing you towards him, you launch yourself again, saltine droplets splattering all over his face. Resigning, Taehyung lets you drag him by the hand away from the shore, waddling clumsily against the stubborn current that’s determined to push you back to the beach.

‘Dick and balls, it’s freezing.’ He heaves.

‘Wuss. You’re not the one who got dunked.’ The chill is licking at your skin, seeping into your hair that splays out in floating silk tendrils. You’ve stopped walking on the sand now, instead spreading onto your front and allowing your swimming arms and paddling legs to move you.

Water up to his chest, you see the goosebumps rise on his blue-bronze unsullied skin, star-freckled sea reflecting wavering diamond silhouettes onto his chiseled front. Following the defined protrusion of his salient collarbones, then the sleek inward curve of his neck, your gaze arrives at his face. His strong brow never fails to strike you; tongue loitering out between his folded lips; brown tufts of salt-kissed, breeze-licked hair a mess but a masterpiece still. Eyes painted with a warm summer glimmer, sapphire and still, he observes you from where he stands.

The fluttering in your heart is now indistinguishable from your shivering due to the wet cold.

‘Come on, let’s swim out a bit further.’ He nods to the open ocean, refusing to spare you from his pinning stare.

Body heavy from the alcohol, the cold and simply your lethargism, you dive below the surface. With your water-blurred vision, you swim after his slow walking legs, bubbles you release tickling your face. You grapple onto his ankle, hear his muffled yelp and stifle a mischievous giggle.

Launching off the sand bed, you lurch up to the surface, inhaling sharply at your first breath of air. You push your hair back to see Taehyung regard you with a mystical expression.

‘It’s too deep here,’ you whine, ‘I can’t touch the floor.’ Not particularly athletic, treading water in order to stay afloat is wearing you down.

‘Hold on to me then, midget.’ He chuckles and holds out his hand which you quickly grab onto. With the stability he provides, you pull yourself up his arm like a buoy line and perch your elbow on his shoulder.

Which draws you unexpectedly close to his face. Nose mere inches from his chin. You smell his familiar honey musk.

Unfazed by your proximity, his arm circles behind you before landing one your waist, the warmth of his touch blooming like flowers on your skin. Why does his hand feel so nice on you? Why can’t you stop staring at him?

‘Better?’ Vibrations of his throat hum into your core.

‘Thanks.’ Your poise on his shoulder is sliding so you snake your arm around his neck, hoisting your body up against his. The contact snaps a cord inside you, sensation of him tingling everywhere you touch.

‘You’re such a little princess.’ He rolls his eyes theatrically in feign mockery, but his smirk betrays his mirth.

‘Shut up, you love it.’ This playful banter weighs heavy in your chest, constricting it, winding it. Because if it were anybody else, it would be flirting... Or maybe you are flirting with him right now. You’re not sure anymore.

A droplet of water is trickling along the edge of his jaw, your focus is transfixed at its smooth descent to his chin. Your bodies are bobbing with the calm waves, up, down, up, down. Then your eyes lock and-

Fuck.

You want him.

You really fucking want him.

Right now.

Right here.

Taehyung’s glare sears a mark in you, and it’s burning like the flames of hell all the way down to your sex. With the side of his finger, he doesn’t need to so much as touch you to tip your head up his way because that’s how willing you are. One tilt, that’s all it takes to kiss him right now. His fingers are sinking into your tender waist, and immediately you wonder how they must feel inside you.

‘I do love it.’ He slides his cheek against yours and traces the bridge of your nose with the tip of his.

And then.

You taste the sea on his lips, salt and cold. It feels like diving into the ocean, plunging into the deep blue and simply allowing your body to be swept away. His kiss is greedy, hungry, willing you to submit to him and follow his lead. And in your intoxicated state, you do so.

Legs wrapping around his torso in the water, his hands caress up your thighs to your ass, digging into your plump flesh with an ardour that releases a damp arousal from your slit. Your own fingers grope down his chest and toy with his hair, scratching and tugging. When he nibbles on your bottom lip and you know that you’re done for. You melt like putty in his control, meeting his tongue with a soft obedience you don’t normally exert.

‘Taehyung.’ You gasp into his mouth.

‘I’m all yours tonight, baby.’ is all he says before diving back into you. Those words sends the possessive animal in your mind wild with satisfaction. Because yes, he better fucking be all yours tonight.

Kissing Taehyung feels different. Perhaps it’s because of the build up of tension you have been harbouring these past few days. Or maybe it’s the thrill of knowing that you shouldn’t be doing this, the thrill of doing the forbidden. Or rather, it’s the way he wields his dominance over you so ferally and fervently, like he’s been waiting for as long as you have to do this.

Kissing Taehyung is teeth and tongue.

Kissing Taehyung is salt and the midnight breeze.

Kissing Taehyung is blue. The kind of blue you see only in the hottest of flames.

When you feel his stiff length poke underneath you, your cunt is set ablaze with desire. Desire to sink down onto him this instant and have him pound into you amidst the ocean until you both feel faint. Desire for him to break you in half with all his might, make your eyes water with from the pleasure he stabs into you.

Slowly he begins to walk you back to the shore, gripping your legs around his waist as you lock your arms around his neck. Lips never leaving each other longer than a second to breathe.

His ravenous mouth travels down to your breasts, and he doesn’t hesitate to devour them from your bathing suit, suckling angry red marks down your cleavage and around your nipples. Though clothed, the prominence of his cock burrows between your wide open entrance, rubbing against your bikini-clad clit and making you thrust your hips further into him.

Feverish from his touch, you don’t realise you’re on land until he gently falls onto his knees and carefully places you on the towels below him. Too drunk to even care if anyone else is on the beach, not that there was before you got in the water, you pull him by the neck onto you.

As he kisses a torching trail down your wet body, your mind is somewhere else, in a heaven that worships Taehyung. Hands kneading your exposed breasts, the wisp of his breath tingles down your navel, tying a knot in your core. With his teeth, he obscenely tugs loose the string that ties your bikini bottom together. The fabric falls loose lifelessly, revealing your soaking cunt, shimmering with want for him.

‘So wet.’ He muses as he kisses your pelvic bone, finger stroking up your slick to gather the liquid of your arousal. Then he prods his finger into your mouth, your tongue compliantly lapping up your own taste, salty from the sea. ‘Who made you this wet?’

‘You.’ You’re practically pleading as he sucks viciously at your inner thigh, so close to your weeping pussy.

‘I want you to call me daddy.’

You stiffen under him. Daddy. He wants you to call him daddy. Oh, but of course Taehyung has a daddy kink. It’s so ridiculously characteristic now that he has revealed it, that if you aren’t drunk, you would be rolling your eyes and laughing.

‘Fine, daddy.’ There’s an undertone of travesty to your reply. Whether he notices, he doesn’t show as he kisses closer and closer to your slit.

At the first contact of his lips to your clit, your hips buckle upwards and fingers fly to entangle his hair. Sucking harshly on your sensitive bud, all you’re capable of is squirming and writhing underneath him like a possessed body. The sensation of his mouth sucking on your succulence sends a shot of ecstasy down your quaking legs. Your head feels dizzy.

‘Fuck!’ You whine.

‘You like that, baby?’ When he looks up at you, wet smirk on his lips breathing hot air into your cunt, a coil winds in your stomach.

‘Yes, daddy.’ Your grip on his hair tightens.

Then he’s gorging you like a feast, tongue fluttering on your swollen bundle of nerves, your kryptonite, teeth scraping along your folds seductively. After several licks of your entrance, he pushes not one, but two digits into your cunt. They ease in, lubricated by your moist walls that welcome the pressure of his intrusion into you like the open sea. He draws wide circles inside you, and it feels like your innards are being stirred to perfection by a metal rod. In the meantime, his assault on your clit does not falter, rhythmically hitting his tongue against you, allowing the vibrations of his humming to penetrate your core.

Looking down, this is simply the most beautiful sight you’ve ever witnessed. Taehyung, eyes glimpsing up at you hungrily, face buried nose-deep in your pussy, hands gripping under your thighs that are rested on his shoulders, all the while the moon shines its ethereal glow onto you and the iridescent ocean in the background plays a symphony harmonious to your moans and his filthy slurps.

Suddenly, an explosion of pleasure arrives at your clit. ‘Oh, fuck yes!’ You screech, throat raw from the pure elation that washes over you. The throbbing in your cunt releases at his continuous friction, pulsating so wildly you think you will burst. His fingers pump out your high as he sucks one last time, long and hard, on your beating clit. ‘Ah… Oh my god… Taehyung…’

Finally he emerges from between your legs to breathe. You watch as your fluid dribble down his chin lewdly, your thumb swipes to catch the wetness.

‘How was that?’ Untangling his arms from your legs, he walks up on his elbows to meet your lips in a tender kiss.

‘Mind-blowing.’ You utter against his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head for dramatic effect. ‘Let’s continue back in our room.’ Quickly you do up your bikini, impatient for more.

Without needing another word, Taehyung sweeps you into his arms, gathers all your belongings and hastily carries you back to your hotel located just a minute away from the beach. Although, it takes much longer than a minute for you to arrive seeing as multiple detours are made along the way, fondling behind a tree, kissing in the elevator and missing your floor.

And when you’re finally in the confines of your room, he pins you to the closed door, not even bothering to switch on the lights, lips latched onto your magnetising neck. Your wrists trapped in his grip against the hard wood, you ache to touch him as his teeth find your earlobe. Nipping at your soft round flesh, a pleasant shock is sent down your spine at the twinge of pain.

‘Daddy…’ You sigh.

He pulls away to stare into your beseeching eyes. ‘What do you want daddy to do to you?’ His voice is a low grumble of dominance, digging its talons into your brain.

‘I want… I want you to fuck me until I cry.’ In the dark of the room, your attention flickers to the moonlit terrace outside. ‘Right on that balcony over there.’

Something in his obsidian eyes ignite at your suggestion. Zealous with lust, he brings you through the glass door that opens to the fresh night. ‘You want me to fuck you right here, baby? For everyone to see?’

Danger lurking one kiss away, you sense the precarious position his sanity is at. So you reach down and grab his hard member over his shorts, and tip his mind to a carnal frenzy.

‘Yes please, daddy.’ The name is the last straw for him. His breath hitches as you tug down his pants and allow his enormous cock to spring free.

Spinning you around roughly, he bends you over onto the rail of the balcony and strips off your swimsuit in one deft gesture. From here, you have an unobstructed view of the coast, lined by bustling bars and closing restaurants. The neighbouring terraces are a metre away, if anyone walks out now, they would horrifically witness Taehyung’s gargantuan length about to drill into you from behind.

Your heart is pounding in excitement of the risk as well as the anticipation of his cock. Not being able to see him, he can thrust into you any moment now, he must be revelling in such control he holds.

Then you feel it, his large round tip pressing against your entrance curiously. Your legs shake expectantly while fresh arousal leaks out of you, mixing with his precum he’s pressing into you. ‘Beg one more time for me.’

Taehyung and his motherfucking ego.

‘Please, daddy.’ Allowing the words to drag out on your tongue, you twist your neck to look at him with wide pleading eyes. He looks like a king, towering over you with this much assertion, relishing in the power he holds above you in this very moment.

‘Good girl.’

Hands holding your hips in place, he slams his tremendous member into your gaping cunt in one forceful plunge. You can’t help but cry out at the sheer stretch of your walls he’s spanning. Holy fuck, he’s so big he makes it feels like your first time.

All you feel at first is an incredible cinching of your core, the ache of him impaling his rigid shaft through the resisting pressure of your vagina. God, is he fucking massive. He seems to know it as well because he gives you a second to adjust to his size, palm scaling smoothly up the hill of your back to gather your hair in his hand like a rein. Then he is pummelling into you, hips slapping against your bottom, ringing such vulgar sounds in your ears. His cock, hard as if carved from marble, piercing through the pain and moulding a thing of sweet sweet pleasure inside you. You grip the rail so tight its edge gouges marks into your skin, your head hung low between your tense arms.

‘Fu-u-u-uckk-k-k-’ He fucks those syllables out of you one by one. At this angle, his cock is curving up the wrong way into you, jabbing at pockets that normally aren’t reached.

A part of your soul is no longer with you, propelled elsewhere by his ceaseless merciless attack on your cunt. Then comes the sting of his palm when he spanks a searing hot mark into your ass cheek. The sharp pain is refreshing alongside the dull ache behind the euphoric throb he is penetrating into you.

‘This fucking ass of yours, baby. Been driving me nuts in those shorts all week.’ Another slap echoes in your ears, and you welcome it by curving your back more to tip your tush higher for him.

‘Daddy, you fuck me so good.’ Playing along with this narrative he’s into, you egg him on further, stroking his ego as your walls are stroking his dick. Because, damn, he is fucking you so good. Pounding into you with such vigour and violence that your folds are beginning to sting.

You’ve reached a point now where you’re no longer intoxicated by alcohol, but more the addictive fumes of him.

Moans that fall from his lips tingle at your clit, which you start to play with to add to your stimulation. Another smack on your ass, this time so surprising that you scream out. ‘Yes, be loud for me. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.’ He coaxes.

Taehyung begins to slow, which you know is a sign that he’s close but doesn’t want to blow his load yet. He bends over you, your hair still tied around his wrist, and nips at the shell of your ear. You’ve never known your ear to be such an erogenous zone, for when his tongue flickers at your inner shell, a shudder convulses through you. Leaving slobbery kisses down the curve of your shoulder, he slowly pulls out of you.

‘Finish on the bed?’ As Taehyung embraces you from behind, his strong arm comes under your cold lonely breasts that perk up at his attention, his dripping wet cock sitting between your red ass cheeks. The hum of his deep rasp on your neck sends your head lolling back onto his sweat-dotted chest.

‘Sure.’ What leaves you is a mere huff, you can’t even conjure your voice.

His lips seal yours as he walks you back into the room, leaving the glass door open for the night breeze to grace you. Amidst the savage sex, you treasure such a soft, delicate moment on your tongue, delighting in the way the tips of his fingers trace up your side. When his hand slithers up to your face, you melt into the warm flesh of his palm, mouth opening up for him to unfurl into.

Then the back of your knees hit the bed, and you know it’s about to begin again. Without breaking the union of your lips, you clamber onto the sheets with his frame hovering over you. Grappling on his neck, you drag Taehyung atop you as your head sinks down onto the plush of the pillow.

He sucks on your plump bottom lip one last time before pulling away. Fluid still profusely oozing out of the slit of his tip, telltale of his concupiscence, he perches between your legs. ‘How do you want it, baby?’ His tone endearing, yet eyes deadly dangerous.

Impatient for him to fill you to the brim again, you lift your both legs up for him to grab and place onto his shoulders. ‘Like this please, daddy.’

That’s all you have to say for him to grunt okay and push deep into you, knees digging into the mattress like lampposts. In this position, his cock reaches your cervix without hindrance, his swollen head slamming into your end every thrust he gives. It’s a different type of ache this time, more acutely targeted at the one sensitive spot inside you. As he continues you thrust into you, bollocks swinging at your ass, a build up of sensitivity gathers at your core.

You feel it approaching, that imminent contortion of your cunt, looming over you, on the brink of toppling your senses.

‘Keep going.’ You whimper, the filthy feeling of his prick hammering so fast into you enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to keep them open, watch his tongue poke out in concentration as he watches your body quiver under his. But the intensity of his fucking is truly too overwhelming that a single droplet leaks out and flow down your temple.

‘I’m so close.’ Taehyung heaves, pecking the bone of your ankle. Something ruptures within him, his sanity, humanity, and suddenly with an even more arduous determination he drives into your walls like a crazed beast. Sole purpose now to reach the climax awaiting him, he spreads your legs open wide before him and rabidly plunges his twitching prick.

And for the second and third time this night, your orgasm hits you, one immediately followed by the other. ‘Taehyung, I’m-’ You’re a crying thrashing body beneath him, the ecstatic pleasure obliterating your mind into ruins as your cunt erupts. The string of profanities that leave you sound incoherent to your own hearing.

You won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow, you’re sure of it.

Taehyung watches you break on his cock, walls tightening impossibly around him, until only a husk of your being remains.

‘Holy shit, I’m gonna come.’ Frantic with excitement, his hips move sloppily. ‘Where should I come?’

‘All over my face? In my mouth?’ Cupping your breast, you gaze up at him with salacious eyes.

‘Oh my fuck- Yes.’

Yanking himself out, a string of your own release threaded at his tip, he slides himself up the bed until his knees are on either side of your head. Pornographically he slaps his hot length on your cheek several times as you roll out your tongue for him. ‘You like that? You like my dick on your face?’

‘Hmmm.’ You engulf his seeping tip in your ready mouth while he jerks himself off with a teenage boy’s zest, his knuckles hitting at the underside of your chin.

Eager to coax his orgasm, you lick fervently at his sensitive head, right on the patch of skin around his slit that drives every man insane.

‘Oh fuck! Baby-’

Abruptly, he withdraws his cock from your mouth. Not after two strokes, he is shooting hot white spurts of his seed onto your face, your eyes shutting just in time to avoid being fired at. Some of his fluid lands in your mouth, brewing bitterly on your awaiting tongue. Eyes squeezed shut, his cock pulses involuntarily in his hand as he lurches his high to an end.

‘You look so fucking good with my cum all over your face.’ Taehyung stares at his piece of work, splattered across your cheeks, on your forehead, and unfortunately for you, in your hair. Feral demeanour dimming, he leans down and gently smears his ejaculation all over your skin before nudging it into your mouth.

Like his good little baby you are, you swallow it like it’s your milk.

‘Mm…’ Throat hoarse from all the moaning, you suck his taste off his thumb.

Exhaustion dawns over the both of you when the adrenaline drains from your blood. Ache straining between your thighs, you waddle over to the bathroom quickly before him cum dries into a crusty nightmare.

Your sex-ridden, hair-dishevelled, hickey-speckled reflection greets you in the mirror. Realisation of your actions sink into your heart along with the sour taste of guilt.

What the fuck have you done?

You just had the wildest sex with Taehyung, your new roommate.

Taehyung, your new roommate.

Taking a deep breath in and out, you try to form back the logic shattered by his brutal fucking. Why do you have to be the way that you are? Just why are you so incapable of controlling your nymphomania?

‘You okay?’ Taehyung’s bass booms from the bedroom, startling you from your turmoil.

You gave into your temptations. You fucked up.

But this isn’t unsalvageable, you two can recover from it. After all, it’s not like you have been lifelong best friends, you’ve only just met each other, still stepping into deeper stages of your friendship day by day. As long as you don’t let this happen again, stop seeing him in a sexual light, you two should be fine.

Yes, you’ll be fine.

Drying your washed face with a towel, your answer is muffled. ‘Yep, all good.’

When you roam back to the room, you see him sprawled out like a Greek God, still shirtless but now wearing sweatpants that outlines his bulge all too well, bed sheets bunched to the side to aerate his sweat-dampened body. His eyes crawl over your naked form with a thirst that has you willing to drop to your knees and suck him off again. Spoilt in the attention he’s doling you, you climb beside him perhaps too seductively than you should.

Stop. You shouldn’t.

Taehyung doesn’t waste a second to pull you into his chest and smother you with slow, passionate kisses. Such contradiction to his rough handling of you sheer minutes ago. His tongue feels heavier, nicer as it rolls along yours, maybe because you’re now sober, senses no longer dulled by alcohol.

It’s a difficulty to retract from his romantic poet of a mouth whose sole purpose is to entice you into its warm embrace. But you do. ‘Hey… We really shouldn’t have…’ You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence because you care too much for his feelings to hurt him.

But then the cool nonchalance in his pupils relieve you of your fear. ‘Yeah… Probably not the smartest move.’

His fingers toy fondly with your hair, twirling it like a velvet ribbon. Eyes wide with his boyish innocence, you wonder if this is the same person who was just slapping his dick on your cheek and made you call him daddy. This trip was meant to allow you to understand him better, yet you remain stuck, perhaps more than before, in his enigma.

And you wonder how his girlfriend could ever have sought after anyone else Taehyung is… Well he has just done that…

‘It doesn’t change anything, right? We’re still friends?’ You want to roll out of his clasp yet his arms feel so soft and smooth and perfect to fall asleep in.

‘Of course, Y/N’ From the earnesty in his tone, you know you can trust his word.

To resume your previous playful dynamic, you pinch his nose between your knuckles. ‘Then let go of me, friends don’t cuddle.’

‘Friends do cuddle.’ He frowns, shocked as if you’ve just slapped him across the face with a whole cabbage of kimchi.

‘Uh… No they don’t.’ Repulsed by such affection, you try to wiggle away but he locks his arms around your torso like a vice.

‘I don’t know what kind of friends you’ve had, but you’re stuck with me now and in Taehyung-land: Friends. Cuddle.’ Blowing raspberries on your ticklish neck, he lets you squirm like a fish in attempt to escape his coddling, chest rumbling into your back with laughter. Your squeals of help turn into giggles. Raspberries turn into kisses.

You freeze. ‘Oi, friends don’t kiss friends’ necks.’

‘Come on, we just had sex, let me just kiss you a bit more.’ Watching him pout so babily, your heart squeezes. Fuck. Why is your heart squeezing?

But you kiss his jutted lips, still. Savouring his taste that you know you won’t have the chance to delight in again. ‘Fine, but if you try to kiss me tomorrow, I’ll kick your nuts.’

Taehyung takes that as a green light to use you as a snuggle toy for the rest of the night, mouth gallivanting the ocean that is your skin.

.

07/09/18

© Copyright 2019

.

@shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @shimtatae @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365  @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @angelswrld @expensive-bangtan-girl @icyi-sky @gingerpeachtae @taexxxiiaa @spring2787 @monixreal

[scoundrels-in-love]

hiraeth for the meme? JB?

Anon, you did what I thought was impossible, as in, made me write again. Thank you for picking one of my most beloved words of longing, ever.

Hiraeth: a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

Also on AO3. Just excuse to write emotional introspection & landscape porn.

---

Jaime hadn’t been shipwrecked and cast onto Tarth's shores, but he might as well have been, with the odd sense of wonder that fills him as he cranes his neck to peer at the cliff faces that give little way to a rocky beach, as if pebble by pebble Tarth has reclaimed land from sea's unending touch, with sheer determination, like its people create houses and turn them into homes upon the rock.

A castaway might feel fear and longing for their home once the marvel of feeling land beneath their feet wanes, but instead, Jaime feels as if he's been castaway his whole life and finally arrived at the gates of his home. The great, sharp gates that lead onto a steep and sometimes narrow path toward the clifftop that he has walked through a hundred times and still feels humbled and welcomed by.

He climbs slowly, because he has nowhere to be right now, other than this moment and this familiar journey upward. And yet, it is still opposite of the aimless days and months he has known before Tarth. Being here is being , in a way that aches as much as it soothes, from the early morning sun carving its way through the clouds as he works the land to golden, wind swirled evenings spent on docks or in Davos' inn or the longing that's on cusp of being fulfilled, but all the more aching for that, that fills him when he is here.

Finally, he reaches the top, hauls his gaze over the even page of clifftop, though its edges are greatly torn and moves toward one of the further ledges, leaning directly over the sea in a far reach. He would call it desperate, but what can a cliff be desperate for, when it holds its opposite in gentle grasp?

From up here, he sees the port and the town to the North with its beach line that he had followed to the base of these cliffs, deeper inland where the Evenfall Hall lays with the villages that have scattered around it, like crumbs of its marble walls sprouting seeds of homes. He knows the little paths connecting them, can spy his own house and plot of land that will bear his feeble farming attempts this year. It’s not the view he needs, right now.

He looks ahead, instead. To the vanishing line of the horizon where the gray of the sky and sea reach to mingle together, though the grey veil fails to imitate the shifting waves below, try as it might. And it does try , shedding streaks of grays from misty white to muted storm almost-black that take up the rest of the sky, gradually toward the meeting point.

The wind tears at his clothes, bites through the unbuttoned shirt collar like a jealous lover -- no, it does not deserve the comparison. And though the thought is fleeting, he already feels his sense of peace wobbling to the side, like a pile of pebbles built to make wishes with he's seen children build on the beaches.

It's odd, how being almost happy can ache. At least Jaime thinks he is almost that. Happiness is a ghost he has only heard of, sees its blurry outline when he recalls how laughter gilded faces of his mother and sister. It's a grief, maybe, that echoes hurt, for time taking the feeling of happiness with careless hand and even more so for all the laughter that died with his mother that could've spun toward the sky, the way he imagines he could've loved Casterly Rock then, the way he might've belonged.

Being here, makes him all the more aware of it, like a gap between something trembling and warm (he thinks about how a week ago, he had ended up helping Old Jenny when her cow had twins and the sticky, slightly bloody warmth that had imprinted into his hands) in him and the emptiness so large it almost feels like a thing has been drawn all the more sharply, marking the width newborn, wobbly thing must cross before it could even brush up against the void in him, risking being snuffed out. But maybe just that it exists before it dies, is enough.

He knows death like every other soldier does, but here on Tarth he's been learning of birth, too, (of calves and gardens, and dreams) and it scares him, some, with the inevitability it brings into the world. Jaime's never been good with constants - maybe because they've never been that, not to him. Not his mother, not even his twin's love and the sense of belonging she had weaved for him like a home of golden spider web (still clinging to his clothes in places he can't reach to brush them off), not honor or justice.

Only the search has remained.

Because it's never been wanderlust that chased him from city to port and across the sea and back again, though there had been a thrill in seeing new places and exploring every nook and cranny he could. Thrill and eventual disappointment, resignation even - no, not here either. Though he has hardly ever known what he's been searching for. Is, still. Because even now, here, where every step feels familiar and soothing like the sea's back and forth that he has always sought out since childhood, something is missing.

Jaime is content, though, more than ever and he is thinking of what he hasn't in over a decade: stopping. Staying. The thought had shot through his mind before a few times across the world, like a bird speeding across the imprint of sun in the sky, but it had never circled back, never sat down and never made a friend of him. Now, it's grown as familiar as his own worn-in work boots.

He has things here that he couldn't even imagine before, like the sense of marvel at how much the great oak tree has grown (since the last time, since the last time that never was) when he wandered up to Evenfall hall for the first time or the cutting clarity of things he cannot find words for when he's up in the cliffs, and things he never thought he even wanted, like people who smile and greet him, a cat that mills evenings into nights, and even a house that's one something short of home. (Just one, when it's never been anything less than an eternal list of indefinable.)

It used to make him angry, the way he knows homesickness as well as his own heartbeat, without ever knowing what it’s like to be at home, at peace. What kind of wretched thing runs in his blood that doesn’t know rest? What kind of love or hate chases him onward without direction, only with a want that he shouldn’t know, if he doesn’t know what the shape of what he’s missing? But the fall storms and quiet months of winter on Tarth have subdued the anger, drawn outlines in the sand that are almost an answer.

The sun breaks through the clouds then, pouring like rain in rare, bright streams onto the sea and he inhales deeply, as if he could take the light in him to dispel the smothering at the edges of his emptiness. And that's when he hears steps behind him. He half turns to see who it is, expecting one of the children though they're told not to play up here, but instead he falls - no, is pierced by, no, falls - into eyes impossibly familiar, when he knows he's never seen a blue like this, not even in his dreams that often spin blue and gold and gray across his heart.

But he knows them still, somehow, and if colors had sounds then this would have the soft bell of the final piece falling in place, of first notes of welcome home hymn, of relief's sigh - oh. Oh , it's you. You're here. (I've been waiting for you.)

Jaime draws a shuddering breath, tries to ground himself in taking in the rest of the person that makes him want to run away and toward them all at once.

It's a woman, taller than him he gauges even with the distance between them, and broader, too, with features arranged just shy of wrong, but not shy enough for most to not call her ugly, he guesses. (But he can't, because factuality doesn't stand a chance against the gale so high up.)

There's scowl on her face, maybe from the sun or the wind though he feels it's not, and wind has untangled pale strands from her braid to whip into her face and tug along in its rush. Freckles dot her face and for a moment, he believes he could find well-loved patterns in those and the rest, hidden by her dark blue coat and the slightly wrinkled shirt seen beneath the blue and gold brocade vest.

Jaime swallows and looks into her eyes again, trying to remember what is the image of the puzzle that feels complete now, but it's been locked away already. He finds that he doesn't care, he's just happy, because not seeing it doesn't change the truth of it. Just yesterday, he had planted apple trees in his garden and the promise of the pale pink blooms against bowed branches that always seem to remember the weight of all the fruit they will ever bear, alone had been enough to make his step light all the way to this moment.

So he smiles at her.

"Lady Brienne Tarth, I presume."

[flannel-kind-2-0]

Hopeful Friends, Ch. 1, A Day

(I’ve posted this to different platforms, don’t worry)

Eridan/Reader fanfic

The soft chirping of birds combined with the rays of sunlight practically shining directly onto your face made you stir, face scrunching up into a snarl as it ripped you from your dream. One eye cracked open only for you to wince, blinding white light flooding your senses. Hissing, you rolled over, facing away from the window and towards the door. Faintly, you could hear your upstairs neighbours already living, making their day. The ones just beyond the wall near your feet were already arguing in a playful way. With soft, shallow breaths you attempted to lull yourself back into the realm of unconsciousness which you yearned for. However the warmth of the sun against your back prodded you in an annoying way, attempting to awaken you. Muttering a curse, you made your own attempt in pleading with the sun, wishing for five more minutes. Which surprisingly worked as you suddenly felt the heat retreat, you were now in the clear for a little more time for sleeping. 

Until your alarm clock went off.

Your eyes flew open, eyebrows knitted together as you promptly slapped the device on your nightstand. The world just isn’t on your side today, is it? Pushing yourself up in bed, pulling the warm covers off your body but remaining seated. And you stretched, raising your arms above your head hearing the satisfying ‘pop’ of your stiff joints thanks to your deep slumber you were so rudely roused from by mother nature. 

Swinging your legs out from the covers, placing your feet against the cold, wood flooring which you hissed once more at. Extending your legs a little farther you made contact with the circular rug and brought yourself to stand. Why haven’t you brought the rug closer to the bed before? 

Quickly you found your socks from yesterday and slipped them on. This was only temporary, you wouldn’t wear them all day! That would be disgusting! Day two of sweaty feet and other junk collecting on it!? Yuck! But they would allow you to travel to your dresser which was surrounded by cold flooring. And that's what you’re going to use them for! 

Moving through the pale colored room you made it to the pale colored, sandal wood dresser that was actually rather large, meeting the middle of your chest in height. You pulled out your new outfit and quickly changed, exchanging old socks with new ones. When you were finished you scooped up the old clothing from yesterday and brought them to your hamper, noting that it was already half way full as you then exited the room, making your way for your bathroom. Sighing at the mop of (H/C) hair which you were greeted with almost immediately after entering the cramped space. You brought your (Brush/comb/pick?) to your hair, taming the mane one tangle and snarl at a time. 

After you were done with that endeavor you pulled yourself out of the bathroom, passing the empty bedroom, noting that you still needed a new roommate, and making your way to the main room. The single large window with pulled black and white curtains was to your right, along with the whole ‘living room’ area. To your right was the kitchen and entrance to your apartment. You noted how messy the living room was, all of your art supplies everywhere across a thick, paint smeared canvas tarp. 

You brought your ass into the kitchen, pulling open your fridge only to view a -almost- empty box which you sighed at. Another chore to add to your list. There was one thing that caught your eye however. A pack of vanilla yogurt which you snatched immediately, shutting the fridge and pulling a spoon out of the drawer. Leaning against the counter as you opened the container, you began to eat.

[10 minute time skip]

You were sitting in front of your easel, sketching a fern onto the paper of your sketchbook along with other types of plants. You found this part of your day peaceful, and the pile of sketchbooks behind you would say the exact same thing. However the paintings that leaned against the wall would tell you that you deserved more than the recognition of this small town even if you were lucky for it. All for sale, even this piece. A pack for a man in town that had commissioned you. You believe his name is Samuel. He asked for all of these nature paintings which he offered to pay you nearly triple your usual rates, and you didn’t pass that up. 

Turning your head at the sketch with narrowed eyes, you began to wonder if this was even how a fern looked. With a swift movement you looked out your window, viewing the ferns that sat just beyond the glass and then back at the white sheet. It looks off, but you’re not sure where it looks off at. How the hell do other artists do this shit? Saying ‘Help me, I can’t draw the other eye’. Fuck the other eye. Help me draw this stupid plant! The unneeded groan that passed your lips as you leaned back after finishing the last segment of the leaf was enough to tell the plants outside that you are done with their over simplicity mixed with complications. 

Carefully pulling the paper from the book you transported it to your binder for the ride into town. Standing up, binder in hand you went to pick up the other three canvases. Passing your kitchenette and exiting through the hall. 

When you made it to the parking lot, you immediately began to make your way to the pre-owned blue 1998 Ford Ranger. Your head turned to the beach which laid only a couple hundred feet away. Eyes scanning the expanse of yellow and blue until they landed on what you were looking for. The high-blood troll that seemed to patrol the expanse of beach almost everyday. You clicked your tongue, setting the paintings into the bed of your truck, before putting the binder into the front passenger seat only to resume looking out at this highblood. It seemed almost like he was watching you too, but you weren’t sure, but you looked away in case. Staring is rude after all. Even if you’re watching someone who’s kind of being creepy in their own way. 

You’ve had your run-ins with this guy before. Eridan Ampora is his name and you’ve learned that he was a little bit of a-eh- asshole. A pompous one at that. But he does look lonely out there. You’ve never seen him with another person, Troll or human- not even his own kin. Looking at your phone you checked the time, thirty minutes was what you had left. 

Pocketing the device once more you started down the sidewalk, approaching the beach. A soft tug pulling at the rational part of your mind saying that this probably wasn’t a good idea, approaching the cape clad troll. However you treaded onward. (F/C) converse colliding with the grey cement until they met grass littered with pebbles and sand. From this distance you could see that he was actually watching you. However you couldn’t really see his face. 

As soon as your foot met the border of sand he seemed to puff up, attempting to seem more intimidating. “Oi! Landdwweller!” He yelled as he began his own approach, feet moving much faster than your own were only moments prior. You stopped yourself at the border, allowing him to approach, and when he was only ten feet away he stopped and you could see him again. 

Narrowed eyes behind thick rimmed glasses, Angled eyebrows furrowed together with pursed lips, high cheekbones with hollow cheeks. He looked like something out of a Tim Burton movie, minus the huge eyes and skinny neck. 

“Wwhat are you doin here, landdwweller?” He spoke lowly, obviously angry that you had even attempted to step onto the sand even after your previous encounter. Faintly you twitched, wondering for a moment why you even came over her only to remember that he looked lonely. So that’s what you replied with, telling him your observation short handedly. 

And you watched his face contort the slightest into more of a shocked feature rather than the angry one you had been used to now. His lips pulled apart before shutting again, hesitant, “Is that all '' was all he said and you nodded, quirked an eyebrow at this new behavior. Without a word he raised a ringed hand, waving you off which you just looked at for a moment before turning around, going to return to your vehicle. 

Well that was an adventure, now onto the clientele. 

---

After a five or so minute drive through town you found yourself at your destination, ‘The Lazy Bean’ Café. You quickly found your parking spot and pulled into it, putting the blue beast into park. It had become second nature for people to steer clear of this spot, after all, who would want to take the infamous (L/N)’s parking spot?! Nobody would, dummy. Leaning over you grabbed the binder before hopping out of the truck, your converse hitting the asphalt with a soft ‘thud’. You made your way into the store and were instantly greeted with the friendly and welcoming smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. You found yourself smiling softly at familiar faces of trolls and humans who were talking to one another, or ones who were just sitting there taking up the wi-fi. 

You stepped forward to the register, looking at one of your familiars, Kankri Vantas.He was currently facing away from you, talking to the taller barista “sup Kankri, How’re you doing?” You watched him jump, turning around quickly with wide eyes. “Goodness!- Oh, it’s only you (Y/N).” He had placed a hand over his chest, “Although I find your actions highly triggering, I do hope you learn that sneaking up on oneself can be a highly disturbing thing to experience!” he huffed, closing his eyes for a moment as you chuckled. A small lecture by Kankri, “Sorry Kankri, It’s a bit difficult to make yourself known when you just, well, want to enjoy the atmosphere” you smiled at the older troll who seemed to take your words into account. Nodding with a ‘note taken’ before stopping, waiting for your input. “Have you seen someone by the name of- um- Samuel? I believe that was his name, it’s somethi-” “Sammy? You vwanna talk to Sam?” The other Barista, another Ampora, this one going by Cronus, interrupted you. Peering around Kankri, smiling at you with shark like teeth. “Cronus!” Kankri turned to the taller troll, “How many times must we go over this? Interrupting people could either trigger or offend people!” The shorter troll popped a hip out, arms folding over his chest as he scolded the violet blood. 

“Sorry Kan, I’ll try harder to- uh- recognize triggers?” He raised his hand in an oath style, eyebrows pulled together as a smile rested on his lips. “That’s Kankri, Cronus” He continued to scold the taller male who was chuckling lowly. You sucked a breath in, “Yo, guys.” the two looked at you, “Still looking for Samuel here” you added. Cronus lowered his arms, looking at you, “vwell, Chief. I sawv him earlier in a booth in the back, not sure if he’s here or not nowv but, eh, he might” he smiled, shrugging his shoulders. You gave your goodbyes and then made your way to the back, listening to Kankri’s ramblings to Cronus.

---

As you pulled back up to your apartment building the sun was beginning its descent on the horizon. You rested your head against the steering wheel, eyes peering over to the binder which held four more full sized commissions from Samuel. 

Hopping out of the vehicle you couldn’t help but look out past the lined up cars, viewing the sun against the waters. It looked fucking radical, the red-orange-yellow hue that eventually mixed with blue creating a brilliant shade of purple. Soon you’d be able to see the stars from your living room window. 

You leaned up against the metal frame of the cab, not even noticing the troll from earlier shout at you from the border. You were mesmerized, eyes fixated on it like a moth with a lamp. How the fuck did mother nature do it? You certainly could mix paints together but this was different, providing light and warmth unlike a painting. Fuck you nature, you may be beautiful but you’re an asshole. “Landdwweller!” pinks and purples are so hard to grasp not to mention blend together without one overpowering the other. How can it be so easy for nature. I know it’s our atmosphere-oh.

You froze as you realized that Eridan was at the hood of your truck, only two or three feet away from you. The same expression from earlier was written along his face and you blinked at it. “Um, hi?” You smiled lightly. “Wwhy do you care if I’m lonely.” his eyes seemed to narrow further, and you could’ve sworn that he leaned in a little. You felt your body react in its own way by taking a step back which you played off as moving to the bed of your truck to pull out the paper bags full of groceries. “Excuse me?” was all you could find yourself saying as he showed himself at the other side of the bed. 

“You heard me, I knoww you did” he scoffed which you chose to ignore as you let out a low hum. “I’m not sure,” You grabbed both of the bags, holding them against your sides, “I suppose it’s because I don’t think anybody should be lonely.” you gave him a look which made his features soften once more into something different. 

The ‘really’ that left him sounded snarky. He practically followed you up to the door of the hall, watching as you fiddled with your keys. You had sighed, “Yes, really” You jammed the key into the lock, “No one deserves to be alone” turning the key you pulled it open, stopping it with your foot. “Now,” you huffed, looking at him, “I’m sorry but I’ve gotta put these away and then sleep. Could we continue this tomorrow?” You watched as he crossed his arms, eyebrows raising over the frames a little bit. 

“Fin” he muttered as you turned your attention back to the door, shuffling through it. And you looked back to him, smiling softly, “thanks dude” and with that you turned, hearing the door click shut behind you. 

[commander-orca]

COTW fanfiction

CHAPTER 3: PINK RIBBON

The small bedroom was comfortable and welcoming. Its only window made penetrate through diaphanous curtains, a warm and soft light which diffused with lightness. Its bare walls and their clay consistency, dull and shapeless, could have brought austerity and coldness, but the light entered, warming the room. At its center sat a creaking old rocking chair that rocked by itself, supporting a stack of books and a wooden bed facing it. The furniture had been well chosen, so as to give off a rustic and simple atmosphere. Suoh had kept his word. A thin layer of sand had piled up on the clay which served as the covering on the ground. Anywhere else it would have sounded rude, but on Faleina, where sand seeped into every nook and cranny, the cleanliness was just fine. Either way, Orca didn't care. He would hate to be taken care of under these circumstances. The mere fact that he had received this morning a visit from a native making him bring his breakfast was enough to make him uncomfortable.

The man was sitting on the bed, awake a good hour ago. The bowl of herbs he'd received earlier, resting on his lap. Orca had never seen with his eyes these plants with the original forms but they seemed to him to be bamboo shoots. These plants were succulent and he was pleasantly surprised; they had the tenderness of fish and the sweetness of milk. Their taste was incomparable to anything he had tasted. This subtle scent of vanilla carried her away to an elsewhere sweeter and brighter than this world. He saw smiles for a moment and lush green meadows ... Orca wondered for a moment if the world of his dreams could have contained such good ones. If this world of flowers from parallel universes that he had dreamed of completing could have fomented such a beautiful creation. Then he shook his head. He had made his decision yesterday. He was giving up the idea of ​​going back in time. Nevertheless, he kept asking himself ... Did he make the right choice? If he was wrong once again about the legitimacy of the good plan to follow ... He was sure to collapse for good.

It was then that he was brooding over these dark thoughts that the door opened halfway and a young girl entered the room, discreet. Orca looked up, preparing to fire another local resident, but the sight he encountered petrified him in the spot. For a moment he couldn't breathe. He could only look at her and bathe in the halo of that blissful joy that she exhaled. His sister stood there in front of him in a pretty powder pink dress that lit up his face. A long white ribbon had been tied around her waist and she was smiling. She was smiling. His eyes brimming with light left Orca stunned and he remained silent, unable to make any sound since at that moment all words were flying away. This vision seemed to him to be an apparition. He would only have believed it achievable in his dreams, when he imagined his sister by his side, together, happy. But she was there, very close to him, her radiant expression aimed in his direction. It was everything he had ever wanted ...

"Did you sleep well big brother?" Lykos asked, his voice tender.

Orca found himself unable to recover, too busy looking at her that he was. After a moment of silence, he finally looked for an answer.

" Pretty good ".

And it was true. Apart from his prosthesis which had thrown his leg a few hours before dawn, his night had been comfortable.

"I'm so happy you came to live here!"

"It's temporary," Orca retorted coldly, unsettled by this unequivocal remark.

Lykos seemed to notice his confusion as she approached him and took his hands gently. What she had once taken for a form of bluntness was nothing but protection, against words that shook her. She understood better now.

"You don't need to decide right away," she patiently assured him, "Just let me show you why I stayed and why I would like you to stay too…"

His brother let himself sit up, a little hesitant but resigned to accompany him. After all, visiting the island would be useful if he wanted to save the Clay Whale as he had promised. And if he really integrated the war council, having a good knowledge of the place would be essential in the event of an attack and in order to plan possible evacuations. Carried away by his sister's hand, he followed her outside, blinking to get used to the sun that was already beating heavily on the island at this hour. Together, they crossed the sandy streets that meandered through a district of low, round houses identical to his. The still damp linen hung from the windows without panes and their colors gave an air of celebration to the new day however harmless which was announced for its inhabitants. Orca watched it all, confused by so many charms, but he kept returning his gaze to his sister, his eyes following the pale ribbon that swirled around her waist. As they made their short trot, the houses grew out of steam and unfolded green gardens and better ventilated cobblestone streets. Further north, the cries of young people and the towing of boats could be heard in the miniature harbor. As they cut through the orchard, a sour smell curled around them. Gathered around a tree, young people were picking large ripe fruits in baskets. One of them sported dark brown hair that had been tied into a ponytail.

"Could I see Itia?" Orca inquired, the sight of the children having suddenly reminded him of the young woman.

" Of course ! "

The man lost himself in thought, trying to guess if Itia was okay. He knew she was being looked after by the few caregivers on the ship. She was obviously in good hands and should be up and running quickly; the thought reassured him. Once put back, it would be perfectly in place here. Itia had seen her native land crumble and her loved ones and everyone else being slaughtered before her eyes. She had more in common with the locals here than anyone, there was no doubt that they would get along wonderfully and offer her a place among them. However, a doubt assailed his mind. During the negotiations on Karkarias, she had suffered non-minor injuries. And through his fault once again. Itia could have consequences for life ...

"Are you crying, big brother?"

 Orca halted and noticed that the tears had spilled onto her cheeks. He wiped his eyes slowly, his face disappearing into the long bangs of his hair. Lykos just smiled at him and started walking again." 

Do not worry. It was just a few scratches ”.

Did he dramatize things? He kept his eyes on the ground. Lykos was half hiding her amusement. Little by little she gave in to a heartfelt laugh.

"I have the impression of finding you little by little ..."

In the center of the island, the four majestic towers of the island crossed on the height and glittered with solar reflections. All the buildings were decorated with conches and other sybinic objects that sometimes emerged from the sea of ​​sand. Children in mismatched clothes were playing in the main square, having fun throwing a yellow pebble on the cobblestones. The pebble rebounded a few times before landing in a box that had been drawn on the ground. The winner heaped up a small mound of stones on his side, such seemed to be their game. Upstream from the square, stood a wall which separated the town center from a cove overlooking a rocky beach. Sitting on this wall, the Prince of the Kingdom of Amonlogia, watched the game with great interest. Nearby, three children were chatting on the steps of a staircase. Mechanical parts of all kinds littered the ground at their feet, and assembly plans formed a jumbled pile on their knees. The last child, sitting behind them paid little attention to them, busy scribbling in a pocket notebook.

“Chakuro! Her sister called, waving her arm briskly.

The boy's face lit up and, eagerly slipping his writings and his notebook into his large bottle apron, he rushed towards them.

"Are you showing your brother the Whale, Lykos?" He asked, his excitement piercing through her breathless voice.Lykos responded by nodding enthusiastically and Chakuro took her by the shoulders for a short moment, a mark of affection that Orca did not miss. He could see the warmth that emanated from her gaze when he looked at her, the attention he gave her and that particular tenderness. She seemed to be a truly precious person to him. Chakuro then turned to Orca, his hands pressed to his chest.

" And you sir ? What do you think of the Whale? "

Chakuro's mistrust was not easy to read. At first glance, he seemed quite warm and open to conversation. He was considerate, cared for his well-being, besides being unmistakably sincere, wishing the best for him. However, its posture did not deceive, indicated all of his dismay; his body, turned outwards, showed that he only wanted to find an excuse that would allow him to escape. Those arms he crossed over his chest were like armor protecting him from him. Orca understood such a reaction. How to blame him? After all, he was the murderer of his comrades ...And he was also in an awkward position to answer her. To neglect the charm of the island by responding too casually would be ungrateful of him. However, showing too much vehemence to praise the beauty of this country would be extremely inappropriate, given that he had sought from the beginning, only to reduce it to nothing.

"It's a beautiful place," Orca said at last, choosing his words carefully.

His words seemed to please the young boy as he smiled back at him.

“It makes me really happy that you like this place. You will see, you will get attached to it quickly. The Whale is so wonderful that even the Princes leave their palaces to come and live there! "

At her words, he nodded towards the wall, catching Rochalizo's attention. The latter greeted him in return, smiling, his hand in a peak on his forehead and looking indolent. Then, seeing Orca, his face closed and he glared at her.

"It is likely, indeed," Orca said, looking away from Chakuro.

The two young people who had remained behind came to meet them, having preferred to walk up to them. The first, named Nezu, donned a peach-colored beanie over his smooth skull and had small hazel eyes. The other, Roh, was a studious-looking weakling, red metal glasses resting on the root of his nose. They introduced themselves quickly and exchanged a few words with him and his sister. Orca expected to be left with the few commonplace expressions of politeness they exchanged. However, that was without counting on one of the boys who interrupted the conversation with a curious request.

"Excuse me sir, I wanted to ask you ... I noticed that you are limping ... It's because of that thing, isn't it?" He said, pointing at his prosthesis.

“Don't be rude, Nezu!” Lykos scolded him.

“It wasn't my goal, it was just a question!

-It's still inappropriate! "

The question caught Orca off guard, but he answered it anyway, assuming his most placid air. Such a small story was far from making him uncomfortable.

“Indeed, this prosthesis is new to me. I lost my leg in an accident and a friend was forced to amputate it for me with what little equipment he had. He was able to carve one for me emergency dummy, in a sandfish tusk. I'm not quite used to it yet ”.

Roh and Nezu hung on his lips throughout his explanations. Their eyes were shining, certainly imagining the new possibilities open to them and their view of technology. Orca could almost see inventions swarming their minds. It was clear that the two children would not deprive themselves from today, to try to extract information from him about the technical advances within the Empire. The Whale's gadgets and designs could seem both more primitive and accessible at the same time, as if, compared to his native land, time had stood still here. Obviously, only a few hundred people populated this island, resulting in fewer brains at work. But that was far from the case; a frozen country would not have continued to create and imagine all these curious technical objects that he had glimpsed on his arrival. Whale technology had simply taken another route.

"So ... you need some kind of cane!" Roh cried.

These children had an acute attraction for science, the slightest invention was enough to put them in a strong state of frenzy. Were they even aware, the man wondered, of the price these inventions in the Empire had cost. How many human lives had been required ... Science sometimes helped. But most of the time, it came for the benefit of Man.

“I had one. Unfortunately, I misplaced her… ”Orca lied, still smiling at them.

The idea flashed through both of their brains at the same time and exploded in their faces, waving their arms and legs. A moment later the children were feverish, trembling from the inventor's fever. They ran away, barely taking the time to take a last look over their shoulders.

"Don't worry M'sieur!" We will make you one again!

-Yeah, even it will be even more beautiful and more efficient! "

The three friends watched them run off, then Chakuro and Lykos turned to Orca, smiling happily. Orca didn't look at them. He felt an invisible pain pinch his heart and some sadness overwhelm him. So much free and disinterested kindness scared him. How could you be so generous to someone who had caused you so much trouble? Did the kindness of the inhabitants of the Whale therefore have no limits?

[gilded-knight]

But First There Was Light

It had all happened so quickly. In one moment he had stood beside her, huddled amongst the other tradespeople shivering behind a barricaded door, & in the next there was only fire. But first there was Light.

Yvelian had first encountered the sun as an announcement to a new day. It painted the sky with warm scarlets & magenta, filtering through the golden leaves of the twisting, light-barked trees of his coastal home. He’d only discovered the light in the way it dappled the evergreen landscape & bursting flora that blanketed the hills before giving way to the wide expanse of the sea. He wondered how the sun reached so far, reflecting a rainbow like prisms against the water & towards the shore. There was warmth in the way it baked the sand & crusted the beach’s surface, only breaking when the crash of a wave gave way to the soft underbelly beneath. He recalled wiggling his toes into that sand as a child, scooping handfuls of the grains around him to bury his legs. No more than a torso he’d raise his voice as loud as he could muster, crying wolf over the noise of the water. By the time his brother would answer the waves would already wash away his hard work, drawing the sand back into the surf & leaving him to dry beneath the sun unencumbered.

By the time he understood the sun as more than just daytime, he was still a child - but old enough to become enraptured by the man who taught him. He would watch his brother with wide, ocean-colored eyes and hang off every word. “Respect,” his brother started, drawing back the curtains to allow the light to shine through the salt-pebbled glass. “Tenacity,” he continued, his steady voice soothing - but commanding attention. “Compassion.” He reached towards the bed where Yvelian sat, pressing the palm of his hand gently to his cheek. “These are the Virtues which you must always abide by. Remember them & you’ll always walk in the Light.” 

Telandrian - as he was called then - was his hero. There was no better way to state the way he idolized him, toddling along in his footsteps (though for every stride his infinitely taller brother took equaled three of his own) as he worked. He would clamber onto boxes, willing him to tell him more ‘stories’ of the great warriors of the Light, and of paladins and far-off human bastions dedicated to the magical power. And of course, his brother would succumb to the butterfly-batting of his eyelashes, recalling tales as he ferried various goods from the docks to the boats anchored alongside them. 

Everything he knew of the Light came from him. His parents had faith in the Light too, of course - but the kind of faith that was used in greeting & good-byes. ‘Light keep you’, they’d say. ‘Light bless us’, they’d will. But they never spoke of it the way that Telandrian did - and there was never the love in their voices as they orated. Even soaked through with old sweat & sea & fatigued from a long day - even as there seemed not an ounce of energy left in him, Telandrian would always greet his brother’s wonder with an answer. And that answer was always filled with love.

There came a day when Yvelian was young that his brother went away. As Yvelian clung to his mother’s hand, eyes welling with tears and father bolstering him with a grip on his tiny shoulder, Telandrian promised he would be home soon. The past years had tested them all - but none of those storms were so difficult as this. He remembered when his parents fought - raising their voices & spitting at each other in sharp Thalassian about a child he’d heard of but never met, who Telandrian explained was their half-brother, but with a sour expression said nothing more. There were moments when his father’s face reflected that same expression - but aimed towards him. When his mother would shield him behind her skirt & warn his father to look at their child with kinder eyes. When his father would scoff at the wish, dismissing the pair of them with a passing wave. But even through every rebuke he knew a new day would come. He knew the sun would chase away the darkness again, and his brother would share with him more stories.

How would he do that when he was gone?

Those years passed slowly, with Yvelian hiding away in the workshop of his mother’s jewelry-making business. He learned her trade because it was the only option. The stoic setting of every pin, the mechanical faceting of every gem, was done in the dim light of covered windows & flickering candles. It pained him to look outside, the expectation that his brother would crest the pathway of their home & return to them fading with each passing season until he closed himself off to the idea altogether. 

Still, he became skilled at the craft his mother shared, and as the years of his childhood faded, too, he started to travel across the sea to the mainland, delivering their work to the denizens of the shining capital of their nation and the villages which encircled it. When Telandrian returned things went unchanged. Instead of returning home, his brother returned to Silvermoon. He lived on. He ventured forth. He visited, but to Yvelian it felt more an insult than if he had just stayed away. 

---

The noise came on like crashing waves against buildings too near the shore. It rumbled and roared as it drew nearer, the cacophony becoming more distinct with each shaky breath he took. He pressed his forehead against his mother’s arm & she instinctively held him closer, her worry apparent in the tension of the muscles beneath the linen sleeves of her dress. There were screams of soldiers that earned cries from the collected Quel’dorei, and there were monstrous snarls, the cracking of bones, or metal - or both. There were noises of straining wood and crumbling stone that shook the building of the shop where they were hidden. But they were safe here in the dark, shielded from the battle that they were warned of marching from the human lands to the south. 

And then there was cold. It hit like cannon fire, snaking through the shuttered door & blasting it from its hinges back into the people within. What he experienced thereafter could only be described as chaos. Certainly, he remembered the smell of blood and death - that sickly mixture of metal and bile that spelled oncoming demise. The group shattered, individuals splintering left and right - exposing him and his mother to whatever had found their safehouse. He kept a vice-like grip to his mother’s hand as she pressed him further into the back wall, and he remembered the way the smoky daylight flashed against her wild, fear-stricken eyes. They were battered side to side, and Yvelian tried desperately to drag her towards safety - or, away. Just get away from the door, away from the beasts that clambered through the opening & had begun to cut through those that had drawn breaths moments before. Now they were bodies - or, perhaps just parts. These creatures rent so many, ripping, tearing - and he closed his eyes against a splatter of warm liquid that painted his face. He felt his mother being torn away from him before he could manage to really open them again, and by the time he had wiped that warmth from his face - she was a quickly disappearing body within the storm.

Yvelian jolted forwards, bumped & battered on every side as he sprinted out the remains of the doorway and out into the square. He couldn’t even register the sights that he was met with - his focus pinned to his mother, watching her being dragged bodily across the cracked stones by a hulking figure. “Minn’da!” He cried, reaching forwards as he began to try to close their distance, when a sickening crunch registered in his left ear - far too close for comfort. And then there was the pain.

It washed over him in a flurry of waves, one after the other as his other hand mechanically reached for the foreign objects that caused it. Talons tore through his shirt, lodging into the space of his shoulder just above his collarbone. The shock and horror of the moment spurned him to seek the assailant properly, & he struggled backwards away from the ghoul that snapped towards his face just a moment too slow. “Minn’da!” He called again, more a sob than a word as his knees buckled against the weight of the creature and he fell backwards, cracking his head against the ground, a wall of white blanketing his vision.

And then he felt the fire.

The guttural wail that bubbled from his throat was wordless, a noise that came from his core. Somehow he had thrown his attacker to the side, and as he rose to his feet and his vision cleared he saw that the square had taken on an ethereal glow, painting the lifeless bodies that laid around him. They were grouped as though falling mid action, the geists still arms deep in their prey, the elves still holding expressions of horror. But nothing moved. Yvelian fell to his knees, the searing, white-hot fire still lingering in pulses of pain that radiated across every inch of his skin. He found himself squinting, eyes searching for some sign of his mother, still.

But he found nothing. No movement save for the tentative, shivering shadows that crept along the edges of the consecrated ground. So he fell forwards, once again sightless - but this time his eyes shut to black. It felt to him as though time had stopped, that the rise and fall of his chest was a farce. Once upon a time Yvelian had dreamt of becoming a great paladin - like from his brother’s stories. He had imagined himself on an ivory warhorse, wearing glittering armor in silver and blue. As the city fell and the survivors were hurried to the safe bastions within the eastern walls of the city, one could assume those dreams had twisted, tempered by an awakening fire & spurned by a singular, burning premonition: justice.

[buggaberry]

A Siren’s Symphony

Euphoric Love: Lukadrien Drabbles

haha lookit that I finally wrote another one >:’D

Ao3

Adrien sat by the shore, his toes digging into the soft white sand as he gazes upon the vast sea. He closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of the briny air.

They’d driven out to La plage de Morgat à Crozon for a swimsuit shoot. It wasn’t exactly a vacation, but it was nice whenever they visited this beach. 

There was always something to find; it had lots of coves, beautiful seashells, and plenty of pebbles scattered about. Whenever they were on break, he’d skip pebbles on the surface of the water and collect as many shells as he could. 

When he was younger, Nathalie caught him with his pockets filled to the brim with sand and shells, and she made him toss all of it back. Now he tries to pick a few of the prettiest iridescent ones to bring back home. Although he always found it difficult to choose just a couple, really all of them were stunning in their own ways. Sometimes he took the muckiest ones to clean up and keep, feeling upset that they might otherwise be left alone and forgotten on the shore.

Adrien pulled his knees up close to his chest, staring at the bright moon off in the distance, its reflection bouncing off the water.

He'd snuck out from the inn they were staying at, which wasn’t very difficult to do considering that he had a room all to himself. All he had to do was walk out. 

He probably spent a good solid two hours tossing and turning in those sterile white sheets, his heart feeling rather heavy in his chest. It was just one of those unpleasant times when he was away from home, away from his friends. The loneliness was overbearing, it made him feel small and scared. All he wanted was to be able to curl up into his mother or father’s side again, for them to gently stroke his head and whisper that everything would be alright until sleep overtook him.  

He just wanted to breathe, he thought, sighing deeply and closing his eyes.

There is nothing but him, the sound of the waves as they gently crash against the shore, and the deep empty hole left in his burdened heart.

Curiously enough, he could have sworn he was hearing something else as well.

It sounded like a song, a distant melody murmuring in his ear.

It almost sounded like the way felt inside, echoing back at him like a quiet symphony, somber yet ethereal.

For a moment he thought it was his exhaustion making him hear things, but as he slowly opened his eyes, still hearing the quiet song off in the distance, he gasped and pushed himself up from the sand. 

The sound couldn't possibly be coming from anyone living nearby, it was past midnight, everyone was asleep. It almost sounded as though it was coming from the beach itself. 

Adrien pressed his palms onto a large rock, peering over it to look into the water. 

There's something blurry beneath it, blending with the blue yet glittering more than the ocean itself. They slowly rise up, droplets sliding off their face and splashing back down. Both of their eyes lock with one another, earthy green crashing with sea blue. 

There's a long pause, as they stare at each other in awe.

"You seemed upset." the blue-haired boy blurted out suddenly. 

"I… what?" Adrien said after a moment, blinking a few times as though trying to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"The music, I was playing it because you seemed upset…" he rambled, "That's how you found me, right? I-... I didn't expect you to find me."

"What are you?" Adrien breathed in absolute wonder, studying their appearance. He had ombre hair and dazzling eyes, gills on his neck, patches of scales running along his arms where an elegant silver cuff decorated his upper arm, and a shimmering tail beneath the water, appearing as blurred light blue with tips of navy. "Are you some kind of mermaid?" he asked.

“No,” he chuckled softly, “We don’t call ourselves that. I’m more like a siren, as your kind would put it.”

Adrien gasped, his eyes widening, “Are you going to capture me?”

“Oh, no! No, nothing like that,” he rushed out, “I mean, unless you wanted me to capture your heart,” he tries to save with a wink, albeit rather awkwardly. 

“Huh.” Adrien said as his stance relaxed, “I’m Adrien, by the way. What’s your name?” he asked.

“Adrien…” he whispered under his breath, making the blonde blush a little. “Ah, I’m sorry. Luka, my name is Luka,” he said.

“Oh, that sounds pretty,” he said with a smile. Adrien blinked a few times before tilting his head in curiosity, “Where did that music come from? It-... It sounded lovely.”

Luka smiled at him, lifting up his arm to reveal the instrument in his hand that was concealed beneath the water, "It came from this harp."

"Whoa, all of that from that little thing?" Adrien said, surprised. It sounded like a whole ensemble to his ears, an orchestra singing to him.

Luka chuckled, amused at his wonder, “Yeah, things work a little differently where I’m from, to say the least.”

“Wow, no kidding.” Adrien said, glancing at Luka and then to the vast sea. It baffled him to think there was a completely different world out there. 

He felt his heart pick up in pace and he wasn’t sure if it was because of his pure awe or if it was because of him.

“Do you think-...” Adrien started, he hesitates, “Could you stay out here with me? Just for a bit?”

Luka looked at him in surprise before lightly smiling, “Sure.” 

They moved to where they both sat beside each other on the shore, Adrien loosely holds onto his wrist and Luka doesn’t question it. Luka tangled his fingers with Adrien’s, causing him to snap his head around to search his eyes. Luka simply gives him a gentle smile, squeezing his hand before looking back toward the horizon. Adrien’s shoulders relax, turning to gaze along with him the soothing night scenery of the beach.

Adrien’s eyes eventually slipped closed, resting his head against Luka’s, falling into a peaceful slumber as Luka hummed softly into his ears the symphony that was his heart.

[certifiedskywalker]

Look - Gendry Baratheon

You don’t trust the people of Westeros quite yet. Be it your own worry or that of Daenerys’ suspicion of them. With a flock of Northmen on Dragonstone you are set on edge. You don’t expect that someone could tear down your preconceived notions of the Westerosi, but no one ever thought the Dothraki would sail across the sea either.

You were weary of the Northmen at first. The unease you felt was mostly carried over from your Queen. Daenerys had allowed Jon Snow and his men access to the dragon glass caves in the hopes of manifesting an alliance. However, watching them haul the dark material from the depths of the rock, your mind couldn’t help but wander through a pit of worry.

“You’ve been watching them work for a while now, Y/N. Perhaps you should retire to your chambers?” Missandei’s soothing voice reached your ears and pulled your tired eyes away from the fur-coated men.

“Our Queen is worried about the behavior and hidden intentions of Lord Snow and his men. I’m overseeing them so she needn’t fear possible betrayal.”

“How noble of you,” Missandei teases lightly, “although I do suggest coming inside. You’re not quite dressed for the weather.” Her bright brown eyes take in your attire that still holds its roots in Meereen, in your homeland of Essos. You hadn’t yet fully converted to Westerosi dress. The thought of exchanging your satin silks for rough pelts pulled a frown to your face.

“Soon, thank you, Missandei.” The young woman dips her head at you before turning to wander back to Dragonstone castle. You couldn’t help but notice Greyworm, arms behind his back, waiting for her at the top of the cobbled steps. His whole body seemed to shift towards Missandei as she approached him, as if pulled by some unseen force.

You longed to find someone that was just as pulled to you as you were to them. Traveling across the Narrow Sea had opened your heart to a world larger than the one you had known. It was like you had new eyes can could see possibility everywhere. Even in people. Perhaps that was why you devoted yourself to Daenerys, neglecting your own life outside of her charges.

“Ser Davos has returned!” The declaration tears your thoughts from your mind. Very quickly, you spot the balding and grey head of the Onion Knight as he marches his way towards the mouth of the cave. Behind him trailed a man you had never seen before.

Even from the distance between you, you could make out the bright blues of his irises as he took in the surrounding. It looked as if his head had been completely shaved of hair, but it was his build that caught your eye most of all. Despite being shorter than the men you had encountered in Westeros, he was stocky and clearly strong. He also seemed to be quite alert for, when you stared at him too long, your eyes met his.

You first instinct was to avert your gaze. Swivelling your neck, you turned to face the ocean and the waves that lapped at the sandy shores of Dragonstone. It was only when you heard the familiar low voice of Jon Snow did you look back. Ser Davos and the man behind him were in deep conversation with the King of the North. The man that caught your eye shook his hand before Jon lead him and Davos in the cave. Fresh blood, you surmised, and went back to watching the other men work with a fearful eye. However, as much as you tried to distract yourself, the man with storm-blue eyes was never far off in your mind.

Before long, dining shifts began to roll out. Groups of miners and Northmen would sit on the sand or scattered stones to eat their meals. You watched them, listening for any fowl curses that involved the Queen or talks of treason. After the first two shifts, your search came up empty. As empty as you growling stomach which you did your best to ignore.

“How long have ya been standin’ here? If I was a bettin’ man I’d say you’re just as hungry as the lot of them.” You crane your neck to study the sea-worn face of Ser Davos with an almost childlike curiosity. Something about him reminder you of the kind, older, sailors in Essos that would tell homeless children tales of wonder.

“Ser Davos,” you greet, “I see your trip to King’s Landing went smoothly.”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Davos sighed, reaching up to rub his white and grey beard in reflection. “Any visit to King’s Landing isn’t without some issue. I fear if I return there, my luck will have greatly run out.” You nod, turning back to the men when you saw the blue-eyed man Davos had returned with.

“And what of his luck?” You question, gesturing towards the younger man.

“Oh, Gendry? Good lad, hopefully luck is in his favor.” You nod at his words before looking back to study him. Gendry. A strange name, but it seemed all the naming conventions in Westeros were quite outlandish. You wished to know more about this Gendry.

“Does he plan to trek North to fight the night?” You ask, turning back to Davos. The older man squints at you for a moment before looking towards Gendry.

“Why don’t you ask ‘im?” Davos fires back when he turns his attention back to you. You sense a challenge in the knight’s words and send him a glaring smile. As you step down to the sand, the smile fades from your lips and is replaced by nerves. You walk through groups of men that stare at you, taking in your foreign style of dress. By now you had grown used to the gawking.

However, when you approached Gendry, the man didn’t stare at you. He spared a glance up at you as you stood before where he sat. If it was possible, his eyes looked more like the summer skies of Essos close up. There seemed to be a question balanced on his parted lips at you look at him. When he speaks, his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

“You are?”

“Y/N, advisor to Queen Daenerys,” you recite, a practiced greeting. “I saw you arrive with Ser Davos.”

“Aye, I noticed. The Dragon Queen doesn’t train her advisors to be sneaky spies now, does she?” You flush at his teasing, silently attempting to compose yourself. Gendry only chuckles and scoots over on the large stone he was sitting on. “Please, sit.”

So you sat, unable to refuse the charm the younger man exude. You both began to talk, sharing intentions and you learned that he did yearn to travel North. Gendry told you about his family, or lack thereof, and how he had been searching for something to give him meaning. You remember that feeling. You had found meaning in Daenerys, her cause, just as Gendry did with the Northmen. Much too soon, someone whistled and signaled for the end of break.

“Well I best be back to work,” Gendry sighed. He stood quickly, stretching slightly before turning back to you. Smiling, the blacksmith extended his ashen hand to you. You took it without second thought and Gendry helped you to your feet. Either he underestimated his own strength or knew exactly what he was doing, for when you stood, you had to place your hands on his chest to keep from knocking your head against his. “I’ll be seeing you around, yeah?”

“Yes,” you reply softly, still caught up on how close you were to him now.

“Good,” Gendry said, a little breathlessly. His blue eyes met your gaze only to flick to your lips. Your mind went to the time when you had seen Grey Worm and Missandei share a similar look. It had been an accident, you seeing them like that; but now you were thankful. You knew what the look meant now.

Many looks were shared between you and Gendry. Evening meals were also shared, just as late night whispers were. It seemed that no one had noticed how you were absent from your chambers just before the dawn. You and Gendry seemed to be the only souls awake to watch the sunrise on the beach most days, minus a few gulls that flew about.

“I’m heading North,” Gendry gushed one very early morning. You sat up from the sand and peered into his eyes.

“Now?”

“To help Jon retrieve a wight, to show Cersei. They will need all the men they can get.” You turn your head away from Gendry’s eyes, digging your toes into the damp sand to distract yourself from the twinge of pain in your heart.

“It will be dangerous up there,” you say, as if he doesn’t already know. Gendry only nods, looking out to the frigid waves as they kissed the pebbled shores.

“You sound like you’ll miss me,” Gendry says suddenly and you tilt your head to meet his blue eyes. There is only sincerity in them, a soft truth blanketed in the growing winter cold.

“I will,” you admit, “I will worry most of all.”

“Why? I’m just a bastard you met,” Gendry mutters, but there’s a strange lightness in his voice. As if the title of bastard didn’t sting him as it did with other Westerosi men.

“We don’t have bastards where I am from,” you say softly, “to me, you are a man. A man I know, a man I admire.” Gendry’s eyes soften then and you feel your heart hammering as a blacksmith at the anvil.

“I’ll come back to you,” Gendry murmurs, leaning closer to you in the sand. “I admire you too, Y/N.” Your eyes scan over his features, the line near his eyes and on his forehead, to the curve of his lips. The image of him needed to be inscribed in your memory because, from what Lord Snow had told your Queen, the North was less than welcoming.

“Let us leave goodbyes for the true departure in the morning,” you say, unable to fathom saying farewell to Gendry now. You just wanted to have one last moment. Gendry shifts, the sand beneath him curving as he leans towards you. Before you even take another breath, Gendry’s lips are on yours. They are soft yet chapped and taste slightly of sea salt. You feel his tongue knock against your own and you melt into his touch.

One of his hands cups your jaw, his calloused fingertips rubbing against your cheek. It is a moment you could have never imagined before. The child of you that you left behind in Essos would never dream of someone like Gendry kissing someone like you; but there you were. And it was more glorious than any thing you could have ever thought of.

“Then I hope the dawn never comes.” When Gendry pulls away his eyes are darker, little pants escape his lips when he speaks. He kisses you again, softer this time with his hands glued to your neck. You trail your own hands up his chest and gently push him down into the sand. You too hope that the night decides to linger a little bit longer.

But the dawn still came in the end and Gendry left to gather his things. You dressed for the day and soon found the group of men ready to travel North on the beach. Daenerys was bidding a goodbye to Jon Snow, who looked just as tired as usual. For a false King, it seemed there was a lot of weight on his shoulders. You took your Queen’s inattention as advantage and made your way to Gendry.

He smiled as you sauntered up to him, dropping the rope that was in his gloved hands. You offer him a half-nod in formal greeting, but Gendry doesn’t pay any mind to it. Instead, he meets you in the middle and grabs your hands in his. The material of his gloves is soft and you wonder if all furs are that gentle on the skin. The thought is soon forgotten though, the moment Gendry brings his hands to your lips.

“I will return,” he promises and you nod once more.

“Return as yourself, I hope,” you jab and Gendry’s smile widens.

“I will, as long as you want me to.” You take a shaky breath as Gendry squeezes your hand tightly in his own. “Stay warm, Y/N.”

“You as well,” you say and then Gendry lets go of you. You step backwards away from him as he helps lug the first boat out to sea. You watch forlornly, biting the inside of your cheek to keep any tears at bay. When you feel a hand on your shoulder, you turn.

“Y/N, I trust you will help the Khaleesi in my absence?”

“Of course, Ser Jorah,” you reply, smiling at the knight. “Please keep him safe in mine,” you add, gesturing towards Gendry as he climbs aboard the dingy.

“You have my word,” Jorah vows and walks over to help with the last boat. Soon the men are pushing it out to sea and the boat Gendry is on is a speck against the blue waves. You don’t miss how Jon looks back at Daenerys before sailing away or the look Jorah gives her as well. You wonder if Gendry gave you the same look before he left. He did, you just missed it.

[vesuvianvienna]

Washed Up

Feh, I suck at titles. I blame @timmys-and-scribbles for inserting mer!Julian into my brain meat. @anjatheapprentice and @arcana-dumpsterfire tagged as promised!

Darkness melded sea and sky into one endless expanse, spangled with stars that rippled silently, voicelessly, their watch as cold and vigilant as the thousands of nights that had come before. Her skirts were tied in a knot at her knees, her calves and feet bare as she walked down the deserted beach, humming a tune she had known in her youth, the words long forgotten, the melody dark, lilting, and haunting. In her hand she carried smooth pebbles she had collected from the water’s edge, something interesting to bring home and place in the windowsill. She was unsure where the compulsion to gather such small, seemingly unimportant items had come from, but doing so felt familiar, nostalgic. Like something she had used to do. Night after night, when she couldn’t sleep, she found herself back out at the water’s edge, the laced tips of the tiny waves lapping at her feet as she walked far away from prying eyes, to the isolated part of the beach no one ever ventured to. Here, she could be alone with her thoughts, alone with her worries and her dreams. While she enjoyed apprenticing for Asra, there was some part of her, some deep, unreachable facet of her soul that longed for wide spaces, fresh air that didn’t smell of herbs and incense, birdsong and lapping waves rather than low chanting. Here, at least, she could pretend that there would be some day when she would have the courage to pursue those things. Perhaps then, at last, she would feel complete. Whole.

The soft humming abruptly stopped as she stooped to pick up a small shell, pearly white and perfectly palm sized. As she reached for it, her hand froze as she caught sight of something pale lying on the beach. Long and...strangely human-like. A body. Her heart leapt into her throat as she straightened, the shell forgotten. It--he--wasn’t moving. Long arms were stretched out in the sand, as if he had been clawing his way up the beach, his lower body submerged in the surf. Instinct won over self-preservation, and she ran to him, falling to her knees in the sand and rolling him onto his back. His skin was icy cold to the touch, white as death, and she feared the worst, feared that she had found him too late. But, over the frantic rushing of her heart in her ears, she could hear the slight rasp of breath, could see his chest rise and fall, though the movement was minute. Breathing a sigh of relief, she sat back and took a better look at him. He was handsome, that was for certain, if a bit sharp of feature. High cheekbones, aquiline nose, a scholar’s brow, and auburn hair that tumbled haphazardly over his face. Without thinking, she stroked back the damp curls, her touch gentle, pausing to drink in the symmetry of his face before taking a deep breath and inspecting the rest of his body for wounds. There were small cuts on his arms, bruises covered his lithe torso, and further down--

Her heart slammed to a stop in shock. Where hips should split to form legs, there was only a smooth overlap of dark scales, his lower body not human after all, but piscine. A broad, delicate fin that glittered black in the starlight, the tips flared crimson. Wrapped around his tail was a fisherman’s net, the rough rope cutting deep beneath the scales. There was a deep gash where his right thigh would have been, the bleeding stopped but the edges still oozing and ragged. She had heard of mermaids before from Asra, who had made friends with a pod of them on the Northern coasts, but she would never have dreamed she would ever see one this far south. What had happened to him, exactly? How had he ended up here?

A strand of hair that had fallen in her face fluttered as she sighed. He couldn’t stay here; either the cold would kill him or someone far less friendly would find him. Carefully, she bent and slid her arms underneath his body, one beneath his shoulders and the other beneath his waist. He was almost too heavy for her to lift, but she managed to hoist him off of the sand and sling him across her shoulders, his tail still dragging in the surf. There was a cave close by that she had explored before, with a natural pool big enough to submerge a person inside. He would be safe there until he was awake and healed.

Somehow, she managed to carry him there without dropping him, the dripping water like murmuring voices as she lowered him into the pool, letting his upper half lie on the smooth rock of the cave floor. “Well,” she whispered, the first words she had spoken out loud since she had found him. “Let’s see if we can get this net off of you.” Strapped to her thigh was a knife she rarely left the house without, a small blade that wouldn’t do much in the way of protection but was quite useful for cutting thread or peeling fruit. Knife in hand, she surveyed the rope, looking for the best place to start. In doing so, she failed to notice him stirring, eyes opening, then widening in terror when he saw a stranger leaning over him with a weapon--

A splash and a short yell echoed against the rock like a small crowd of startled individuals as he used his powerful tail to knock the knife out of her hands, diving into the water and swimming to the opposite side. His eyes rolled wildly, taking in the strange surroundings, a grimace of pain on his mouth. “Who-” he started, his voice raspy and thin. “Who are you? Where am I?”

Slowly, she lifted her hands, showing that they were empty, her stare pinned to him. “I found you injured on the beach, so I brought you here. You’re safe.” Each movement was slow and measured as she relaxed into a cross legged sitting position at the pool’s edge. “I apologize for scaring you--I was trying to cut the net off.”

“Oh.” He relaxed a fraction, though he still looked a bit uneasy. “Yes, that...that’s still there. I see.” His shoulders slumped as he sighed, running a long-fingered hand back through his auburn hair. “And you are?”

The barest hint of a smile touched the corners of her mouth as she lowered her hands into her lap. “Vienna.”

“Julian,” he replied, his posture softening as he cut through the water, edging closer to her. “Ah, excuse me one moment.” With barely a ripple in the water’s surface, he dove beneath, submerged in the darkness for several silent moments. When he resurfaced, he was much closer, holding her knife in his right hand. “Sorry about that,” he said rather sheepishly, holding out the knife to her. “It appears I’ll need your help after all.”

A relieved smile curved her full lips as she took the knife and sat forward, letting her legs dangle in the water and gesturing to his fin. “May I?”

“Of course.” He flashed a cheeky grin at her as he raised the broad, powerful tail out of the water, biting back a wince as she gently pulled it into her lap. Before she set to work, she quickly summoned three balls of light, their bluish glow illuminating the cave well enough for her to see where her hands went; if she could avoid nicking him, so much the better. His eyes went wide as he stared up the glowing spheres. “You...you’re a magician,” he said softly, only looking back at her when she nodded.

“I am. Now hold still.”

Slowly, she began to slice through the ropes, tugging the torn net aside as she freed him. There were very nearly impressions beneath the nets, they had been so tightly tangled, and idly she wondered if scales could bruise. Finally, she unraveled the last of it, hauling the net out of the water and tossing it toward the back of the cave, where it lay in a harmless heap. Julian lifted his tail out of the water, the muscles beneath the scales flexing sinuously as it turned it this way and that, relief stark on his face. “Much better. How can I ever thank you?” His grin took on that teasing slant, a rakish arch to his brow that made her cheeks flush.

“You’re still hurt, by the way. How did that happen?” She gestured to the cut on his right side, concern etching a thin line across the bridge of her nose.

“Ah. I tried to cut the ropes loose myself...and I’ll admit, I underestimated their tenacity.”

Vienna smiled, hiking up her skirts to keep them out of the water as she leaned closer, idly swinging her legs back and forth in the pool. “You don’t have much experience with humans, do you? Those nets are built to last years in rough seas.”

Julian laughed, a soft, pleasant sound. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. In fact, you’re the first human I’ve ever seen up close.” Water splashed gently against the sides of the pool as he came closer, surveying her curiously. Vienna, for a brief moment, felt the urge to withdraw her feet from the water; after all, how did she know that his kind wasn’t carnivorous? How did she know those gently smiling lips didn’t hide sharp teeth? But she stayed put, reasoning that if he had truly wanted to hurt her, he could have done so many times by now. “My pod doesn’t like to venture anywhere near the surface.”

“But you did.”

“Well,” he said with a small shrug, the tips of his ears turning red, “I’ve always been a bit of a rebel.”

Vienna laughed softly, tucking her hair back behind her ear. “You know, I somehow don’t find that surprising.” His laugh joined hers, their echoes mingling, mixing into one harmonious sound against the rock. “And if it makes you feel any better, you’re the first merman I’ve ever seen. My master tells me stories about them all the time, but since he never takes me anywhere, I’ve never actually seen one before today.”

“Your master, hm?” Julian swam closer, something in the way his eyes gleamed in the enchanted light and the angle of his smirk made her stomach give a rather pleasant roll. “And does your master know where you are?”

Slowly and against her better judgement, Vienna shook her head. “No...I snuck out. He probably thinks I’m sleeping, but I took a walk instead. Too much to think about.” Julian nodded understandingly, now only an inch or so away from her, and his gaze dropped to her legs dangling in the water.

“Now, these...these are interesting. May I?” A soft shiver ran down her spine as she nodded, and his fingertips ghosted over the curve of her calf. “How do these work? I’ve seen some carvings of humans before, but it’s so difficult to work out the mechanics from thousand-year-old scratches in rocks.” His fingers wrapped around her ankle, lifting her left leg out of the water. First, he rolled her foot in its joint, looking delighted at the fluid motion of it. Then he bent her knee, his eyes rapt as he watched her leg straighten and fold, straighten and fold. Finally, his hands slid further up, caressing her thigh with curious, methodical fingers. Her teeth bit down on a lips to stifle a pleased sound, her cheeks burning as those cold fingertips slipped across the soft inner face, pushing her legs apart. Further and further, his head bent and his brow studiously furrowed, closer to the apex of her thighs--

Reflexively, she closed them, unable to hold back a startled sound as his hands began to slide up under her skirts. His hands flew back as if he’d been burned, eyes wide with alarm.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, no…” Vienna could feel herself blushing to the roots of her hair, the scarlet spreading down her neck. “That’s not usually an area I let strangers touch, if you know what I mean.”

Dawning comprehension rose on Julian’s face, followed by that dastardly smirk. “I see. Well, we’re hardly strangers now, are we, darling?” He chuckled, then with one fluid movement, grabbed the sides of the pool and pulled himself up to bring his face level with hers. His tail pressed between her legs, pleasantly cool as the water soaked through her skirts, the rippling muscle beneath making her squirm. “After all, you are my savior. Shouldn’t I be repaying the favor? Displaying my gratitude? Pledging life and limb to your service?”

Vienna laughed, leaning back on her hands and gazing up at him. It certainly wasn’t a habit of hers to flirt so openly with men she had just met, especially with men that weren’t entirely human, but there was something about him, something in his smile and the way he looked at her that put her at ease. “And how would you go about doing that?”

He leaned closer, close enough for her to smell the salt on his skin, feel the gentle brush of his breath against her lips as he spoke. “Would a kiss suffice?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded, a shiver of foreign heat rippling down her spine as he lifted his hand to her cheek, caressing her skin with the backs of his fingers. There was a moment of silent anticipation, of parting lips and baited breath before his mouth finally touched hers in a kiss so soft it made her heart ache. For a moment, he was still, as if expecting her to push him away. But the gentle slide of her hands up his arms to curl around his neck made him lean closer, his lips capturing hers over and over again. Fingers warmed by the heat of her skin cupped the back of her head, tangling in hair as soft as silk and as blue as summertime shallows; Vienna couldn’t help a sigh of pleasure as she tugged him closer, so lost in the taste of his kiss and the growing warmth of his embrace that they could have kissed for a thousand years and she wouldn’t have been able to tell.

At last, too soon, he broke away, looking as though it pained him to do so. Vienna licked her lips, her eyes hazy and as vast as the sky as she gazed up at him, a smile rising on her mouth at the sight of him just as dazed as her. "I think that makes us even," she said breathlessly, and both laughed, Julian dipping to steal another quick kiss.

"Then perhaps I should let you save my life again, sweet Vienna. If that's all it takes to pay back my debt." He slowly lowered himself back into the water, though his body lingered between her legs, hands braced on her thighs.

"Perhaps. There's still the matter of your tail," she reminded him, gesturing to the open wound. "I've got a salve that should heal it over in a couple of days, if you're alright staying here until then."

"That depends," he said with a smirk, "will you be coming to visit?"

"Of course. I'll be back at first light with the salve and some breakfast. I'll tell Asra I'm practicing meditation on the beach so he won't worry, and I could spend all day here." Her grin was perhaps a little too eager, too excited, but at the prospect of spending more time with her mysterious new friend with magic in his lips, she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

It seemed Julian was eager as well, if the enormous grin that split his handsome face was anything to go by. “Ah, you certainly know the way to a man’s heart. Breakfast and spending time with a pretty girl.” He chuckled softly, reaching up to stroke her cheek, tiny droplets of water extending his caress as they slid down her skin. “But you’d best be getting home now. It’s getting late.”

Vienna nodded, leaning into his hand and wishing she could stay longer, but he had a point. Asra would notice if her bed wasn’t slept in. Slowly, she got to her feet, her skirts falling back to her knees. “I’ll see you at dawn, then.” She turned to leave, then as if pulled by invisible strings she knelt at the pool’s edge and took his face between her hands, drawing him up for one last kiss. The brush of his tongue against her curve of her lower lip was so soft she wasn’t sure she had felt it at first, but once she realized it a whole body shiver skittered down her spine as she sighed against his mouth. His hands gripped her wrists as she pressed her forehead to his, as if neither wanted to let go. “Dawn,” she repeated in a whisper, Julian echoing the word, a promise sealed in their kiss. At last, she got back to her feet and strode toward the mouth of the cave, knowing that if she hesitated, she would go back to kiss him, and she’d never get home. The glowing spheres of light extinguished as she hit the sand, the stars enough to light her way as she began the journey home, the trip shorter than usual as her mind strayed back to the handsome merman in the cave. Oh, how would she ever be able to sleep, to wait for the dawn to see his face again?

[thewriterxo]

Random chapter from one of my stories ‘Death Saved Me’

Junior year of high school had come to a close for Phoenix and summer vacation had already begun. Their last day of school, Phoenix and her friends already planned a weekend trip to one of their favorite beaches. Bodies always crowded the sand during the hot summer weather and it was easier for them to blend in while illegally drinking. Normally they’d meet up with others from school and just hangout the entire day, then relaxing by a warm bon fire when the stars lit up the sky.

Phoenix was beyond ecstatic to get herself out of the place she called ‘home,’ and into her vacation body. She’d already packed her bag even though she wasn’t to leave until the next day. She had made sure to pack the blanket that always lay in her bed. She never slept without it and wasn’t going to start now. It was a soft pink and white knitted blanket her mother had made her before she was born. It felt to her that it was the last thing she had to remember her by.

Her excitement for school to finally draw to a close seemed to make the last few days drag more than usual. Now that it was officially over she had time to set out on adventures with her friends, and look forward to her senior year.

Without Death around the girl looked to be herself on the outside, but she didn’t feel it. It wasn’t because she missed him but for the fact she felt a sort of emptiness in her gut. But after the weeks that she never saw his figure pop into her room soon made her become aware that he wasn’t real, and he was in fact someone she had created in her mind. Of course it had to be. No one else could see him except for her. The Grim Reaper wasn’t actually real. It was all in her head.

No mysterious angel came to check on her and Henry had been distant. For the past few weeks she decided against replying to his texts and avoided his house at all costs. Her imaginary friend had told her something along the lines that made her feel as if they knew of each other. If it were true and Henry was also a part of the supernatural world, Phoenix wanted nothing to do with him.

For a while she felt as if she could get her life back on track. No more spinning corners worrying if something was lurking between the shadows. She no longer wanted to be afraid and instead hoped she could come to terms with herself and regain the happiness she missed.

The day the girls had planned to leave, Phoenix was waiting for a phone call from Amanda. She was to pick up Phoenix and meet her other friends at Tina’s house. Tina was a gorgeous blonde and blue eyed girl that Phoenix and Amanda became friends with freshmen year. Tina never felt like she fit in up until high school. She always wore sweatpants and hoodies with her large round glasses. Once she became a freshmen her style changed completely. She never touched a pair of sweats again and instead either wore mini skirts or jeans. She got herself contacts and never left the house without her makeup. She was the most flirtatious out of all of them from then on and always enjoyed capturing the attention from men’s wandering eyes.

Chloe had joined the group when she moved to town two years ago. She was never the brightest bulb in the box which annoyed most, except for Phoenix. She was the type to get to know someone before she ever dared to judge them. Chloe’s hair was dyed red and freckles covered her nose and cheeks. She had almost everything pierced; her lip, nose, eyebrow, ears and nipples. She never enjoyed wearing bras due to the fact she loved to show off the two piercings beneath her shirt.

Phoenix ran outside to meet Amanda at her car and after throwing her duffel bag in the back seat she bounced next to her friend.

“I’m so excited!” She grinned.

“Me too,” Amanda stated, holding the same amount of enthusiasm in her tone. “Tina said her older brother got us enough alcohol to last the weekend. The only thing we still need to get are cups.”

“Already ahead of you,” Phoenix winked as she grabbed the solo cups from her bag.

By the time the girls had made it to Tina’s, Chloe and Tina were already bouncing their way outside. They were both dressed in booty shorts and tank tops, clearly ready to take over the beach. It’d been a while since Phoenix actually got to spend a plentiful amount of time with her girlfriends. It was going to be a wonderful trip.

An hour passed of the friends singing the entire drive to the thumping music. The beach appeared on the right of the long empty road, packed with people partying. The house they rented was big enough for the four of them with an immaculate view of the ocean. The sun was cooling itself behind the waves, lighting the sand and causing pebbles to shimmer.

Not even bothering to unpack, the girls immediately changed into their bathing suits. Phoenix had on a bright pink strapless top with her black ruffled bottoms. It was her favorite bathing suit piece do to that fact it showed off her curves and hugged her chest.

They found a spot on the sand to relax and set their towels down along with the cooler filled with drinks. Already Tina and Chloe were buzzed from drinking during the car ride, so Amanda and Phoenix popped open two bottles together.

“Hey Phoenix!” a familiar voice called out over the loud voices around them.

When the girl spotted her friend Todd coming towards her waving, a pair of shades covering his eye, she smiled and stood off the ground to run into a hug. Todd had been possessed by a darkness a while back whom tried to drown the girl. But to this day Phoenix believes it was the alcohol she had drank causing her to hallucinate and fall into a dream. Todd also never remembered what happened. Him and Phoenix talked as if everything were fine from then on, and even became closer as friends.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Phoenix smiled towards him, showing off her perfect white teeth.

“My friends let me tag along,” he replied to her, the smile she had becoming contagious.

The boy lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head, his blue eyes glistening under the sun. He hung around the girls for a while longer before heading back to his group of friends as they started to play Frisbee.

Phoenix couldn’t keep her eyes off Todd’s shirtless body. His sweaty abs twinkled from the golden rays of the sun. A small attraction towards him lifted from the pit of her stomach. Amanda caught her best friend staring and elbowed her side, smirking and wiggling her eyebrows.

“Can’t take your eyes off Todd?” she questioned as Tina and Chloe turned their heads.

“He’s hot,” Phoenix shrugged with a shade of pink erupting through her cheeks. Amanda took a swig of her drink and winked.

“You should totally bone him!” Chloe yelled out over the loud noises.

“Chloe!” Phoenix gasped.

“You have the perfect opportunity,” Chloe told her. “While everyone’s out by the bonfire tonight, you can take him back to the house. You’ll be all alone.”

The four girls began giggling, Phoenix wondering if the words coming from Chloe’s lips could actually work. Sure, Todd was one of her best friends, but the thought of losing her precious virginity to him didn’t seem like too bad of an idea. She did know he wasn’t the type to totally ditch her afterwards. And if it had to be with someone, she’d rather it be with him.

When the moon kissed the sea, the fire flamed as the kids sat around. Todd was seated beside Phoenix, both watching as the ambers sprinkled from the flames. Phoenix was still feeling drunk but had enough sense to know what was going on around her. Chloe’s words danced in her head nearly the whole day. She wanted to take Todd back to the house, but she was afraid of rejection.

“Hey are you hungry?” Todd whispered in her ear.

“A little,” Phoenix replied.

“Why don’t we go back to your house and I’ll make us a little something to eat,” he smirked and butterflies flopped in Phoenix’s stomach.

The two walked off together, Phoenix noticing Amanda and Tina giving her thumbs up. The entire walk felt like an eternity as the girl rubbed goosebumps down her arms. She was nervous to even try anything with Todd. She didn’t want to lose him as a friend but when would there ever be an opportunity like this again?

“All we really brought was cold cuts,” Phoenix announced as she stepped inside and flipped on the lights, Todd right behind her.

“Then sandwiches it is,” he replied and set for the kitchen.

Phoenix sat on a stool near the counter, watching as Todd pulled the ingredients from the fridge. She bit against her bottom lip, watching his still shirtless stomach tighten.

“This knife is pretty sharp,” Todd spoke out of the blue, holding the knife he cut the sandwiches with up to eye level. “It could be used as a...” he stopped to look in Phoenix’s direction, his eyes a light grey. “Dangerous weapon.”

Phoenix gulped, her eyes bulging.

“You,” she whispered more to herself.

“Trying to whore it up?” Todd, who wasn’t really Todd, laughed as he ran his finger over the blade. “You know, I don’t enjoy my prey selfishly going around from guy to guy without at least kissing me first.”

“I thought I got rid of you,” Phoenix sneered, slowly inching off the stool.

“You can never get rid of me,” the deep voice chuckled, noticing the girl was about to run. “I’m everywhere.”

Phoenix dashed in the direction of the hallway. She slid around the corner and hid in the closets closet, pushing herself back against the wall and covering her mouth to keep her loud breathing quiet.

“I love hide and seek,” Todd called, slowly walking down the hallway. “Especially when there’s a knife involved.”

Phoenix heard the feet tap against the hard wood floor, coming closer to where she hid. The shadow of a figure loomed through the cracks of the door, stopping just outside it.

“Gotcha!” Todd yelled just as he banged open the door. Phoenix let out a scream, crawling past him to begin running again.

Her feet brought her back to the kitchen so she could escape through the front door and find help. Only her plan was defeated when a body pulled her against them, the knife planted right against her throat. She yelped and became still when she felt the cold blade slide across her skin gently. The pressure the boy put against it wasn’t enough to cut through her but it defiantly scared her.

“Now what did you think was going to happen tonight?” Death spoke through the body he possessed. “He was going to actually steal your virginity? Well I won’t let that happen. That precious flower of yours belongs to me. After all, demons sure do love a virgin.”

“Death,” Phoenix hissed through her clenched teeth. “I thought you were going to leave me alone.”

“Plans have changed my dear,” he cooed into her ear. “Once you decided to slut it up, I had to step in and stop you.”

“But why,” she gritted.

“Because you’re mine.” At his words, the girl shuddered uncontrollably. “And since you belong to me, you will fall under my command. Do exactly as I say.”

“I’ve already told you,” Phoenix began, finding her perfect opportunity to free herself. “I don’t belong to you!” Just as she finished her words, she kicked her leg back and kicked the boy directly in his testicles.

Hunching over, Death could feel the pain the body did and snarled in anger. Phoenix grabbed another knife off the counter and held it in front of her.

“Careful,” Death tsked, still hunched. “You hurt me; you’re really only hurting Todd.”

Phoenix frowned and stomped her foot like a stubborn child.

“Reveal your true form you wimp! Fight me like a man!”

“You really want that?” he asked her as the pain subsided and he straightened his back.

Phoenix gulped again and wondered if she’d regret her choice of words.

Right before her eyes the body of Todd began to twitch and jerk until his movements became inhuman. She watched in horror as his mouth opened wide enough for Death to slither his way out of the body as if it were only a costume. Todd fell to the floor unconscious after Death had finally released his form and stretched out his muscles. He kicked Todd’s body to the side more with his heavy boot and then focused his attention back to Phoenix.

Tonight his normal cloaked wardrobe was different. A black hoodie draped around his body, the hood still covering his face. Dark washed jeans fell down his legs and landed at the usual black combat boots he wore which were always in perfect condition. Phoenix thought Death’s outfit made him resemble more of a teenager tonight, but his towering form proved her wrong. He was still a monster.

Death extended his arm to the side, his hand wide open as if he were waiting for something to appear there. Instantly like a magnet, a tall stick appeared in his grasp, a long curved blade at the end of it. Phoenix had only seen this item in movies and couldn’t help but stare at her reflection in the clean blade. Her tiny knife she still held was nothing compared to this.

A scythe.

Phoenix knew he was going to fight her with this which wouldn’t be playing fair. But instead he twisted it to the side and sliced through the air, creating purple and white smog to circle itself until it became big enough to form an opening. Inside the smog that still circled, Phoenix saw what looked like another world. She recognized it as Purgatory, the place Death took her the first night they met again. She shuddered from the awful memories of sluggish souls wandering the streets aimlessly.

“You see this place?” Death spoke out to her as he pointed to the portal. “Remember how I’d send you here if you disobeyed me?”

Phoenix chewed the inside of her cheek glaring at him.

“Do you want me to do that?”

Phoenix rolled her eyes and clenched her fist at her side, wanting so badly to punch him in his unseen face.

“Answer me!” Death snarled.

“Obviously not!” Phoenix replied with the same snarky attitude.

“Ok, then what are you going to be doing from now on?” Death taunted her, twirling his finger in the direction of the portal as if teasing her.

She never wanted to return to that awfully place, especially if she were to be trapped there alone.

“You’re all in my head,” Phoenix replied. “I created you from my sick imagination. That place isn’t real and neither are you.”

“Shall we find out then?” Death smirked, his lips twitching.

Suddenly he grabbed Phoenix’s arm and dragged her with him. When she tried to attack him with the knife he merely swiped it from her grasp, and then stuck half her body through the portal. Phoenix looked down to the town as if she were floating in the sky. She screamed when Death let her go to fake her out, but then grabbed her once again.

“Fine!” Phoenix yelled, closing her eyes to keep the images of the place out of her head. “I’ll listen, I’ll listen!”

Death whipped her back but never let go of her arm. Immediately the portal swooshed closed after Phoenix’s body retreated from it.

“Good,” Death grinned. “I hope this time you’ll listen. Oh and by the way,” he paused to lick his lips and eye her body up and down. “Sexy bathing suit.”

Before Phoenix could cover herself with her arms, Death was gone with a snap of his fingers. The girl immediately ran to Todd’s side as he began to groan, waking slowly.

“What happened?” he asked her groggily.

Phoenix knew he wouldn’t believe the truth so she made up a lie. “You fainted. How much did you drink?”

“Not a lot,” he responded, looking to the ceiling. Little did she know; Todd made an excuse to bring Phoenix back to the house because he too wanted time alone with her. He was also attracted to her but never took a chance for the fact he wasn’t sure if it’d ruin their friendship.

“I think I’m going to get back to my hotel,” he sighed as Phoenix helped him stand. “I’m not feeling too good.”

“Alright,” she frowned. Todd felt sorry that he had ruined the night but still he took a chance and bent down to her level, placing a small kiss to her soft lips.

Phoenix shocked, watched Todd leave as she touched the spot he kissed. She wasn’t expecting it but alas felt weak in the knees. She prayed Death wasn’t going to flip out about it.

Later that night when the girls returned to the house, they found Phoenix curled up in front of the television. She had to explain the lie to them also of how Todd fainted and returned back to his hotel. Nothing happened between them which left her bummed. She was still pissed that Death had interrupted her and hated him even more for it. She couldn’t understand if he was just jealous, or really was trying to “protect” her as he says.

When her friends headed off to bed Phoenix did the same. She was snuggled against the soft blanket, her eyes shut but her mind still powered on. It was difficult to fall asleep considering she was still thinking about the kiss Todd shared with her. Did it mean something? Did he like her?

“Isn’t this adorable,” a wicked voice jolted Phoenix into a sitting position. She saw Death at the foot of the bed. “Cuddled up next to your blanky,” he mocked her.

“Get lost jerk off,” she snarled in anger.

“I could be your blanky if you’d like,” he purred but she wasn’t in the mood for his taunting.

“I said, get lost!”

She chucked a pillow in his direction which he dodged immediately. He then snatched the pillow off the floor and threw it directly at her face. Phoenix pounced then, running off the bed and jumping onto the tall creature hoping to knock him down. When his body stood like a statue she instead tried chocking him with her arm wrapped tightly around his neck. Since he still wasn’t dressed in his cloak there was nothing to protect him so she finally had victory when he coughed. She kept squeezing tighter until he eventually flipped her over him, Phoenix landing roughly on her back. When the wind was ripped out of her she moaned in pain and rolled against the floor in agony.

Death loomed above her and snorted.

“Funny, you grew some balls,” he growled and reached down to lift her up by her throat. He slammed her against the wall, pinning her in place as the air was sucked from her.

“This is how you choke someone,” he told her then began to squeeze his hand. She gasped for a breath but couldn’t receive it. As her lungs tightened and her face became red, Death released her and she once again fell to the floor.

“You’re a psycho!” Phoenix yelled to him.

“I get that a lot,” Death only shrugged.

“Can you leave now? You’ve tormented me enough!”

“I just came by to tell you something and I had to get attacked,” he stated lightly as if he were offended.

“What is it?” Phoenix huffed, crawling back to the bed where she made herself comfortable against the pillows. “I need my beauty sleep.”

“Well I’m not going to tell you now.”

“I hate you!” Phoenix cried out. “Stay away from me. You’ve ruined everything good in my life. You take away the chances I have with any guy. And you’re a sarcastic prick. I don’t need you taunting me every chance you get. Get out of my life!”

Death placed a hand over his chest as if his feelings were hurt, which they weren’t. He bent down to the girl, never revealing his face. He tilted his head to the side, staring at her angry expression before him. He could see how much hatred filled her eyes and his hands went cold. He wasn’t understanding why but for some reason he felt more numb than usual, as if the words actually upset him.

“Fine,” he whispered coldly. “Good fucking bye.”

And just like that, Death vanished, leaving Phoenix once again alone. She couldn’t believe her words actually worked into making him leave. She felt like doing a victory dance but the tiredness in her eyes grew. She crawled back into bed and finally managed to get some sleep. Without Death around, she could easily do that.

[thesweetblossoms]

Topanga Canyon: Shimmering Gold

I am in Topanga Canyon, a lush, steep, hilly, plant smothered, bohemian, artistic and celebrity habituated mountain terrain. The hair pin curves, tiny Buddhist purveyors, old fashioned country marts, mid century houses with yards full of succulents, wild grasses in degrees of shimmering gold, pepper, jasmine, orange, grape and fig trees is a setting for drama, whimsy, peace, imagination and wonder.

I spent my nights, saturating in the wild and star trickling emanations, graced by the breezes churning the Pacific Ocean below, we sat by candlelight, peering at the Big Dipper, framed by the tallest oak trees and was swept away to other worlds, accompanied by the perfume of sea salt air, lavender, rosemary, honeysuckle, roses and night blooming jasmine. The journey to our beautifully designed and tastefully rendered air B and B took us past lulling lanes abundant with poppies, heathers, statice, chamomile and other wildflowers, the ferns, vines and feathery grasses circling the narrow, tightly wound mountain, the path so treacherous, that a single wrong turn would send you careening off the Santa Monica mountains. But, the drive is unforgettable, the road often dappled mysteriously and provocatively by large trees and other vegetation, the particular gold of wheat, joining with the infamous Los Angeles gold illumination to cast a wondrous and indelible awakening dream.

Our simple, minimal, earthly, well provisioned, and thoughtful air B and B felt secluded from the cacophony and hustle of our old residence in Hollywood at Beachwood Canyon, the Topanga mountain retreat, offering a measure of isolation and privacy from the Los Angeles effervescence. It proved to be a lovely July trip, a mere fifteen miles from some of the most breathtaking beaches in Malibu.

On Topanga Canyon, we visited the natural, personality filled, vintage decorated, historic and charming Mimosa Café. We savored coffee and an almond croissant by the koi fish pond, soaking in the otherworldly energy of the tiny, well cared for garden.

Although, during our previous years in Los Angeles, we would visit Malibu on some beloved sea chance filled days, after living in Scottsdale, we authentically and purely soaked in the experience of the coastal, casual, creative, well to do and talented ambiance of Malibu.

We visited both Zuma beach and Carbon beach. Each time I am near the water, I am irretrievably spell bound. But this time, I was especially hypnotized by the huge July waves, crashing infinitely and loyally, in soft, frothy, delicate, flowing, attenuating returns, the fine edges, like a veil of tuberose white mist. As the powerful tides receded at the edge of earth and sea, it drew us in deeper, over the stony rocks on Carbon beach and caressing silk sand at Zuma beach. The waves that commenced further in the horizon proved the most omnipotent for the body surfers, swimmers and others frolicking in the mesmerizing rhythm of the earth, the moon and the tides.

Our seaside days where cloudless and among a fantastical, heady LA heatwave, tempering the water, offering a blissful tonic, spiked with lazy sea breezes, flashing sun rays and magnificent, impudent waves. I tried to jump on the highest ones, yet the retreating waves overtook me many times, leading me to fall as softly as I could on the pebbled sea floor, the water pulling me under in the strident, intoxicating thrall and command of the moon. I was overcome by the shimmer of the palest, most intriguing, arsenic and cobalt diffused hues of the sea. The curved wall of the wave, during its offense, mimicking the pure, reflective and smoothness of aquamarine apothecary bottles. I saw a pair of dolphins swim happily past, jumping and steadily swimming further way in the horizon, sharing the seemingly limitless vastness with a few shapely sail and speedboats.

As we drive away from the tip of Topanga Canyon, leading to the sea and then away to our current desert abode, I know I will carry in the dearest corners of my heart, the memories of the indescribable and consciousness altering experience of these constellation crowned Santa Monica Mountains, as they whisper poems, draft lines, create orchestras, choreograph dances, create imagined universes, and are lapped away faithfully by the pacific sea.

[leaves-of-three]

Day Three || Fucking Weird

Connor Murphy x Reader

Word Count: 2224

Summary: Reader runs into Connor during a vulnerable night.  [This is part of an in progress series. You can follow along here.]

Warnings: Talk/Mention of a deceased parent (mother). Mention of OCD/Compulsive Counting. Mention of drugs (pills) which could potentially hint at suicidal tenancies in the future. For now they’re just simply mentioned. If anyone ever wants something added to a warnings list, please don’t hesitate to ask. <3

Connor Murphy. It was the one name that continued to bounce around your brain as you stared up at your dark ceiling. Glow stars, plastered across the roof from your childhood, gazed back down at you. On nights when you couldn’t sleep you would count the glowing stickers above. When you were seven, there had been 65. You remembered that number because you would count them every single night. It had become almost an obsessive part of your nighttime routine. At seven, your mom had passed away. That was when your obsessive behaviors started to really become more present in your life. You liked to count things. The number of stairs, the titles covering a floor, objects on a desk, telephone poles lining the street, the amount of steps it took from your bedroom to the bathroom...anything. Knowing the number of things calmed you. It distracted you from your own thoughts whenever they got too loud. 23 stars. There were 23 green, glowing stars above your head now. Some had fallen off over the years. The passing of time would claim all of them eventually. Time was no match for cheap, factory stickers. 42 stars fallen over the course of ten years. Everything falls eventually. 

Connor hadn’t been at school today. It was only the third day. Three days. One, two, three. It couldn’t have been your fault, right? The look on his face when he saw you sitting with Evan yesterday was still burned into your memory. He seemed so...betrayed. He wasn’t your friend. You two were not friends. You had to stop overthinking everything. You needed to stop obsessing over this. Were you so desperate for a human connection that you would latch onto the first person who showed you an ounce of kindness? Let it go. Let him go. Leave the poor guy alone. His actions were not a reflection of anything you did. He was not your friend. Connor Murphy was not your friend. 

Evan, however, had the potential to be something real. After you two had shared lunch, you realized you also shared the same Photography and AP Physics courses in the afternoons. He had been nice enough to fill you in on everything you missed from skipping class on the first day. He was nice. You signed his cast. It wasn’t perfect, he was a little awkward, but you needed a friend. He needed one too. It seemed to just work. Why was it that the rejected, left behind people always seemed to find their way to each other? Like magnets being pulled together. An invisible force making sure no one is ever left alone for too long. What did that make Connor then? Was he alone? Maybe your magnets were too similar that they ended up repelling instead of attracting...

A hard bit of plastic hit your forehead causing you to flinch in surprise. A single glowing star slid down your face and settled onto your chest. The old sticky tack on the back finally giving up. Twenty-two. You exhaled a lungful of air and rolled onto your side. The red lights of your alarm clock on the bedside table read 3:07 am. You had to wake up in less than three hours for school. You shoved your face into your pillow and let out a stifled scream. Sleep was not going to happen tonight. The bedroom walls felt like they were closing in on you. You pushed away the anxiety of not being able to sleep and got out of bed. This house was too small. You needed open space. Fresh air. 

An over-sized hoodie, leggings, and a pair of old boots complimented your messy, unkempt, bedhead hair as you slipped out your front door. Your father wouldn’t notice you were gone. He never did. The chilly, wet night air filled your lungs. It had rained all night. Now the dark sky just spit out droplets of water at a more scattered pace. Your car rumbled to life with the turn of a key. The wipers jumped awake, flinging off the dotted layer of collected rain and wet leaves onto the driveway. You backed out and headed into the night. There was nothing more beautiful to you than driving alone in the dark with only the headlights to illuminate the way. You knew exactly where you were headed. No matter what roads you took, you always ended up at the same place. Everywhere lead to somewhere. And your somewhere was the lake. 

Cracked Rock Lake was a destination spot for your town in the summer. It was a moderate sized body of water, good for swimming in the summer, fishing in the fall, and ice skating in the winter. It’s name was born from the large boulder jutting out of the water a few yards out. The rock formation had a deep groove splitting it down the middle. Kids would always use the crack to climb up to the top and jump off. Your mom used to bring you here when you were young. It was the last place the two of you had gone the weekend before she passed. It was one of your last happy memories as a kid. It would seem silly to say out loud but you liked to imagine your mother still lived on in the soul of the lake. You like to talk to her there when no one else was around.

An hour passed before you arrived. You had decided to drive down every back road you could find to delay your arrival. The silence in the car felt as familiar as a warm blanket and you didn’t want to give that up right away. A few porch lamps from surrounding houses danced light over the still, gloomy waters. A thin layer of mist inched across the sand blurring the line where the water met the beach. For a few more moments, you remained inside your car, staring out into the view. You were afraid that if you left the safety of your car that you might walk straight into the murky depths and never return. Eventually you braved the unknown and left your vehicle behind. 

The rain had fully stopped now but you could still smell it lingering in the air as you walked over the pale sand. A small playground sat on the far right of the beach. It was nothing more than three swings, a metal slide, and a set of straight monkey bars but it was enough to entertain the children who visited the lake. At 4 in the morning, the playground would be all yours. You took a seat on the leftmost swing and rocked yourself back and forth. Your eyes closed as you allowed yourself to listen to each little noise. The lapping water, the creaking of rusty swing chains, your own shallow breaths...

“Hey, mom.” Your voice was nothing higher than a whisper. “I really miss you. This month really sucks. I wish you were here. I wish I could still talk to you...” 

The sound of a lighter clicking on caused you to snap your eyes wide open in fear. A flickering flame illuminated the end of a cigarette as it gave off a faint glow. Someone was sitting under the slide directly to your right. Your hands gripped tighter onto the chains of the swing. They had to have know you were there. They would have heard you talking. You weren’t alone. Shadows cast whoever was hiding into a cloak of darkness. Only the red circular glow broke through the black. It wasn’t until a hand lifted the cigarette to their lips did the light reach their face. 

“Connor?” You words fell out in disbelief. You fumbled for your phone in your pocket, turning on the flashlight and shining it directly into his face to confirm your statement. 

Sure enough, Connor Murphy sat huddled under the slide, cigarette in hand, squinting away from your light. “What the fuck, Y/N? Get that shit out of my face.”

“Oh, right, sorry.” you said as you dropped the light. A moment of silence passed before you spoke again, unsure of what to say. “...Why are you here?”

“I was here first. I could ask you the same damn question. Leave me alone.” He spit the words out at you. Your presence was obviously aggravating him. You tried not to let it phase you too much. 

You gently nibbled on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to go. It’s a public place. I have every right to be here just as much as you.”

You heard him growl in frustration as a response. A second later, something flew past your head, narrowly missing you, and rolled onto the soft ground. It sounded like a bunch of tiny pebbles stuffed into a plastic cup. In the moonlight, you could see a small, orange pill bottle sticking out of the sand. It was filled with an assortment of oval drugs. You glanced from the pills to the dark slide. “My three year old cousin likes to throw things when he has a temper tantrum too.”

His response was fairly predictable. A simple, “Fuck you.” 

You felt the corners of your mouth twitch into a smile. He wasn’t pleased you were here but he wasn’t leaving and neither were you. You walked your swing backwards until your feet could hardly touch the ground anymore then let yourself swing forwards. Wind blew through your hair the higher you pushed yourself. “Did you ever have that dream as a kid that one day you could swing all the way around the bar? Its pretty much impossible, especially with a slack chain. Still, kid’s never seem to stop trying.” He didn’t reply. You hadn’t expected him to. 

You pumped yourself up as high as the sing would allow. The moment you hit the highest spot forward, you let your butt slip off the rubber and you soared feet first through the air. You were airborne for hardly a full second before you hit the ground. Your legs gave out under you and rolled across the soft sand before settling on your back to look up at the stars. Your chest rose and fell with adrenaline. From the corner of your eye, you saw Connor poke his head out from under the slide. His cigarette held limply between his lips as he cocked an eyebrow at you, shaking his head. “You’re fucking weird,” he mumbled before going back into hiding. 

You stayed on your back, looking up at the world above. There weren’t too many stars to be found. The cloudy, rainy night had blocked most of them from view. Only the brightest of the bright were able to poke their way through. You followed them with your finger and invisibly connected the dots. You counted them as you did. One, two, three, four, five...the more you looked, the more stars began to appear to you. It was so much more beautiful than your bedroom ceiling. You eventually rolled onto your side, facing the lake with your back to Connor. He had stayed quiet and hidden from view anyway. His company didn’t pose a threat to yours though. It seemed you could both inhabit the same space without needing to interact. Your eyes floated across the water until they began to get heavy. Each time you blinked, your eyes would take longer to open back up again. At some point you decided just keep them closed.

The harsh sound of a car horn jerked you awake. Sun flooded your eyes and you groaned, turning to hide your face into your pillow. Instead of the expectancy off a soft pillow, you got a face full of sand. You sputtered and sat up, looking around. Confusion plastered your expression.

Lake. You were at the Cracked Rock Lake. The events of last night came back to you as the sleep was blown away with a soft breeze. Connor had been here too. You looked behind you, back to the slide. In the light of day it was easy to see that he was no longer under there. You turned to your other side and there he was. 

He was sitting an arms length away, his shoes planted in the sand, staring out at the water with hollow eyes ringed with dark circles. In his hand was the pill bottle he had thrown at you at some point last night. His thumb flicked the white cap open and shut. For the first time you noticed his nails were painted with chipped black polish. You focused in on his hands, tranced by the repetitive movements between the cap and his thumb. His skin was pale and his fingers were long and skinny. Piano hands. That’s what your mom would have called them. 

One, flick up, two, flick down, three, flick up, four, flick down, five, flick up, six, flick down. You waited for seven but it never came. His hand closed around the pill bottle and you realized he was staring at you. You blinked up to meet his gaze. It occurred to you that maybe the reason he hadn’t left yet was because of you. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to leave you alone on the beach in middle of the night. Maybe Connor Murphy was your friend. 

“...Do you want to get breakfast?”

A minuscule smile cracked his stony expression. 

[spacklefritz]

Shifting Tides - Chapt One

A/N: Hey everyone, guess who’s back ^_^ So I’ll probably spread the updates over the course of three weeks (one for each week). Hope you enjoy! Also, just letting you know, you can also view the fic on ff.net Rating: T (for any swearing that may occur) Summary: No matter what she did, she always felt the pull of the land. Somewhere free from her father’s domain. It was an impossible dream, until it wasn’t. Mermaid AU

Somewhere far beyond the crashing waves, Somewhere upon the shore, where men wander, There is a place that calls, A siren song of old it chants,  Freedom awaits you here.

She didn't know what started her fascination for the land and all its inhabitants. Maybe it was, because as vast as the ocean was, it always seemed so empty. Her father's kingdom was a sprawling structure of reefs and volcanoes, underwater mountains that looked nothing like and yet completely like the structures Above. Her father, Jude Heartfilia, King of the Underwater Pacifica, ensured she was fitted with the finest of baubles, but none could entrance her as her trinkets from Above.

Each nightfall she'd swim to the shores of the nearby village, and watch, entranced, at the light from the bonfire. It rose high as the people danced around it. Warmth radiating outwards, she wished she could reach out and touch it. There was nothing like that in her kingdom, so bright and strong. Yet so fragile. One bucket of water could vanquish it and nothing would remain but the smoky scent. Like a dragon blowing steam. But the dragons were long dead, slain into extinction by the very people she watched.

How could something so cruel, dance with such life, cheer with such raucous laughter? The merriment of these humans was something otherworldly. Her people did not laugh like this, not to mention her father, who didn't even smile.

A chill ran down her spine despite the warmth from the fire and she cleared her head of those thoughts. Humans weren't to be trusted. They could only afford to live so carefree because long ago, their ancestors wrought havoc on the Other Kind. She should not have this fascination. But even when she thought this, her heart felt as if tearing asunder.

No.  

No.

No.

She had a duty to her father, and to her kingdom. She had a duty to marry and bear heirs like her mother before her. For that was all her father thought good of her. She did not have time for this...small moment of joy. That was not in her future.

You could swim away, far away. A voice whispered. But what good would it do? Where amongst the seven oceans could she swim, where would she be free?

Her gaze flickered back to the land.

You could head for the land.

The mermaid gave an indelicate snort. Yes, and she would surely die. She was a mermaid and needed the saltwater to survive. Her history spoke of these things, mermaids swimming out to shore, never to be seen of again. It was a cautionary tale told to the inquisitive young, some families even added the gruesome deaths that awaited the wayward guppies. Her father, himself, spoke of these things to her. He said them in a very plain tone that broke no arguments, had no histrionics, it was simply, this is what would happen if she were to go that way.

That's not true. The voice tried to argue and the mermaid thought back to when she was much younger and the tales her mother used to tell. About merpeople and humans intermarrying, about how a merperson could walk on land, or if the heart of the human was true, they could join them in the sea.

Ravings of mad woman, her father would tell her later. Gibberish from a woman who claimed she was from the lost empire of Atlantis. The latter was usually said with such venom that made her wonder, in hindsight, why her parents had gotten married in the first place.

Still, in her heart of hearts. She wished her mother's tales were true.

You could find out. It would be a grand adventure.

A sigh escaped her, on that final thought. An adventure.

Just then, the footsteps of humans sounded. Feet on pebbles. The mermaid swam to the nearest rock, hiding behind its craggy surface.

"We need to be careful next time, Natsu." It was a firm voice that put her in mind of her father, but it wasn’t harsh.

An irritated grunt sounded.  

"Don't mind him too much Erza. Everything turned out okay in the end." A soft voice sounded. Its tone pleading.

A shuffle, some movement of sorts.  

The mermaid peeked out from her spot and spied a red-haired woman glaring at a man and a woman who stood before her. They both seemed to shrink beneath her gaze.

"It doesn't matter if it turned out okay, it was still reckless."

A snort sounded and the woman zeroed in on the pink haired man. He dressed back a little and said, "all I'm saying is that, you were right there with us swords blazing."

The woman cleared her throat, "Yes, well, let's just take this time to rest and recuperate."

The other woman giggled. “you just want to spend more time with Jellal, right?”

The red haired woman, Erza – she remembered them saying, turned as red her as her hair and sputtered. The pink haired man let out a boisterous laugh.

Erza looked between the smiling woman and the man and cleared her throat.

“we should head back to the festivities.” She looked out at the sea, “don't spend too long out here. There's something…. Different in the air.”

Lucy inhaled sharply. Surely she want referring to-

“Yes, yes, we’re doing that.” Laughter still danced in the younger woman's eye. She turned to the man, “Natsu, are you coming?”

“Nah, I'm gonna stay out here a little longer.”

“Don't stay out too long. You know better than others what lurks in the sea.”

Natsu gave a sharp grin, teeth shining white in the moonlight. “Anything that's out there I can handle.”

It was true, Natsu thought as he sat on the beach. Whatever was out there posed no harm. It was curious and had a sense of wonder around it. It could be some simple, sea creature but Natsu highly doubted it. The mind seemed too complex.

Some humans, like Erza, could detect the minds of the Otherkind. But he wasn't human. He was an Elemental, or at the very least, partly. He wasn't sure, considering he'd never met his birth parents. Instead, he was raised by one of the strongest Otherkind known to humans.  

He was raised by a dragon.  

But people insisted they were extinct. A tiny flame flickered at his hand.

Then what were his memories, he wanted to argue, had argued and still did. Anyone who believed the old man was dead could shove it.

Igneel was one of the greatest dragons that ever lived and he’d sail the entire oceans to find him. And then he would question him. Why the hell did he leave him all by himself? What was Igneel thinking? How could he still be alive and not say anything to him?

He let out a frustrated sound and scrubbed his hand through his hair. He wouldn't dwell on this. Dwelling and brooding led to nothing but frustration and moody silences. He could be doing so much more with his time. Maybe he had spent too much time on the land. They already docked their ship, hidden beyond the rocky cliffs that surrounded the cove to the east of the village.  

Magnolia was a small island, its few riches plundered by Crocus. The people here were willful and strong, and wouldn't stand for the injustice. Eventually, they'd manage to scare the Crocus officials, and reclaim their land, but Crocus was a much bigger country and managed, to steal from them legally. Hiking taxes and tithes to be paid. Naturally, Magnolia had to fight back, giving birth to Fairy Tail. They'd intercepted some of Crocus' ships carrying their bounty, and taken what was rightfully theirs.  

This past haul, was enough to last them about a month, so the two weeks on land wasn't that long in comparison, but the itch was back in Natsu's bones. Magnolia was his home yes, would always be a place to return to, but he couldn't stay. He'd heard something about a dragon sighting in the Southern Isles...maybe Igneel would be there.

They also had some goods for trading from the remainder of their spoils. If he could round up, around nine others, that should be enough to operate the cog ship they owned. But then, everyone was just getting to settling down for a rare moment of peace. This was the biggest haul yet, and if they played their cards right, it would provide a starting point to bringing back thriving establishments in Magnolia.

Aaaagh! Natsu scrubbed the back of his head.

It was times like these, he wished his old man was back with him. He looked out at the horizon, then snorted. If the old dragon was with him, then he would never have been in this problem.

Letting out another frustrated sound, he shouted into the air. "Oi, Igneel! Where are ya?!"

He flopped back on the sand and closed his eyes. Automatically, his senses reached out, and picked out the sea creature, could almost see its head tilt in its curiousity. Moreover, he could feel it watching him.

[userlando]

What It Means (Ethan)

Summary: You and Ethan are both Camp Counselors with a weird love-hate relationship going on. Word Count: 3,496 Warnings: Lots of mentions of sex, sexual tension all around, sexual innuendos. Yeah. A/N: I’ve tried to sooo hard to get my writing going, but work is sucking the energy out of me. I sincerely hope you like this imagine though! xx Also, sorry for any mistakes. I’m gonna edit this tomorrow!! xx

It was no secret that you and Ethan had a weird love-hate relationship. Some days you’d get along, and other days you’d fight like there was no tomorrow. You were both counselors at a Summer camp, this being the second year. You had met him last year and taken an immediate dislike to his cocky attitude and his confidence that he could get any girl to get on her knees for him. It pissed you off and you had wondered why the hell he had been hired in the first place. Some people would call it sexual tension, but you called it hate.

Some days, you would both get along but other days you were at each other’s throats. This was one of those days where he’d do everything in his power to annoy you, and you weren’t having it.

“Everyone pair up, grab a paddle boat and a vest. Please, stay safe and remember what we just went through.” You shouted over the sea of murmurs as the crowd dissipated to get their boats out.

You sighed and turned around, hand coming up to rub at your sweaty neck underneath your hair. With the help of a tie, you tied the mess up into a ponytail and proceeded to walk over to the other side of the beach to hand out life vests to whoever came to collect them.

“Hey pumpkin,” A voice came from behind you and you didn’t even bother turning around to see who it was. “Want to pair up?”

“In your dreams.” You answered with a snort, handing over a vest to one of the campers. “Here you go.”

Ethan came up behind you and you glanced sideways, eyes immediately dropping down to take in his chiseled naked chest and the way his shorts hugged the swell of his ass. You looked up quickly, narrowing your eyes at the way his lips pulled into a smirk when he caught you staring. The man was annoying as hell, but he was nice to look at. And that’s probably why he annoyed you so much.

“You know what I think?” He asked, shifting his weight on his feet that were buried in the warm sand.

“I don’t know and I really don’t care.” You said, handing out a vest to the last camper before placing your hand on your side, turning to the tall man standing beside you.

Ethan only rolled his eyes, baring his teeth to bite into his bottom lip before leaning into you. You caught a whiff of his cologne and almost leaned in, but his hand came up to grab your arm as you tried to pull back. Your protest got caught in your throat as he breathed near your ear, skin almost pebbling at the feeling.

“I think you’d want to do more than paddling together in your dreams.” He said, voice low and you recoiled quickly, feeling heat surge through you as you came face to face with his teasing smirk.

Unwanted memories and images came rushing back to you. You recalled how his hands had felt on your body, how that night had been one of the hottest ones during the summer and you had been sweating like a dog in heat. His lips on every inch of your skin, his hands.. His large hands and those fingers of his that could work their magic. Sometimes, only sometimes, you’d remember the way he panted and moaned your name into the starry night, begging for you to come. It had only been one time, though. After that, it was like it had never happened and you went back to your usual bickering. But Ethan liked to remind you sometimes, only to see you face heat up and your eyes get glassy as your mouth dropped open. He never rendered you speechless, but whenever he brought that night up, it was inevitable.

You brought up your hands to shove him back, trying not to let your ego get hurt when he barely moved before turning around and walking away, his laughter echoing behind you.

☼  ☼  ☼

You woke up with a startled gasp, sitting upright in bed as your eyes tried to take in the darkness of the cabin. A shiver went through you as you realized how much you were sweating, heart speeding up as you recalled the horrible nightmare you’d had. Snores could be heard from your friends in the confined cabin and suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in on you. So you slung your feet over the edge, a shiver racking through your body when your felt the cold wooden floors against the soles of your feet. And with quick succession, you pulled the door open and walked out onto the porch without making any sound, sneaking across the path towards the beach front. It was cold by the water and you probably would’ve stumbled into several things if it weren’t for the full moon shining down on you.

As you sat down a far distance from the cabins, you realized that you had been crying without feeling it. Your hands came to wipe away the tears on your cheeks, thinking that your nightmare had affected you more than you thought.

“Pumpkin?” You heard someone from behind you and you quickly turned around, seeing a silhouette approach you from the woods. You would’ve been freaked out if it weren’t for the familiar voice.

You turned around without saying a word, drawing your legs up and wounding your arms around them as you rested your head against your knees. There was some shuffling around behind you before Ethan sat down behind you, legs stretching out on either side of you. Your stomach swooped as you felt his front press to your back, arms embracing you as he wrapped his them around your waist.

It was weird, but it brought you a great sense of comfort and warmth seeing as how he was wearing a hoodie that seemed to be too large on him. He smelled good, like apples and honey.

“You okay?” He asked quietly and you made a sound in your throat, shaking your head, not trusting your voice. You could feel his small intake of breath as he rested his head on your shoulder. A small smile graced your lips as you smelled the apple and honey from his hair, thinking back to how he hadn’t even changed his shampoo since last summer.

And then came the images. You frowned as you tried to block them out, but they’d already invaded you mind. It was weird how hormonal you were; one minute you were upset about a weird nightmare that you couldn’t even remember, and the next minute you were thinking of Ethan Dolan laid out beneath you in several ways. You didn’t even like him.

Or did you?

You quickly shook your head as if to get rid of that unwelcoming thought and that seemed to rouse Ethan back to reality. He sighed and you almost jumped out of your skin when you felt his nimble fingers slowly pull up the tanktop you were wearing, the pads of his tips stroking against the softness of your skin.

“No,” You murmured, voice weak. But there were red flags going up in your mind and you were not up for another weird rendezvous with the douchebag, only to have you both ignore each other for the rest of the summer. “Don’t.”

Ethan stopped stroking your skin, but he still let them rest against your stomach.

“I’m not...” He trailed off, almost sounding offended. “Babe, I’m not trying to come onto you.”

There was something in his voice that you couldn’t put your finger on, laced with sincerity and a gentleness you rarely experienced from him. Whatever it was, it made you believe in what he was saying. Maybe he was just trying to comfort you.

“Why are you here?” You asked softly, trying not to sound hostile.

The waves crashed against the shore and you absentmindedly thought of how lucky you were that you were sitting far enough for it to not reach you.

“I couldn’t sleep, too much on my mind,” He answered. “I was taking a walk and I saw you bursting through your cabin, so I followed you. You seemed upset.”

You ignored the fluttering in your stomach at his words, thinking that he had probably followed you in hopes of getting laid. But you knew deep in your heart that it wasn’t true, he had followed you here because he’d seen how upset you were.

“You smell good.” He murmured quietly, no heat behind it.

“That’s what a shower does to you,” You turned your head, almost recoiling when you realized how close his head was to yours. A teasing smile pulled at your lips. “You should try it sometime.”

Ethan let out a startled laugh, digging his fingers into the skin of your stomach and you jerked in his arms, squealing out a laugh.

“Oh, now we’re back to being sassy, huh?” He laughed and you squirmed in his grip, hands grabbing his wrists to stop them from tickling you.

“N-no,” You stuttered out between giggles. “Stop.”

Ethan stopped with a huffed laugh and you both settled down, silence seeping in once again. You felt like a small rock had been lifted from your shoulders, nightmare long gone as you turned your head to stare up at the glaring moon. Maybe Ethan wasn’t so bad after all.

“Just for the record, you smell good too.” You said, breaking the silence.

“That’s what a shower does to you.” He mocked your tone, laughing when you made an indignant sound in your throat, turning around to face him as you landed a punch to whatever you could reach. In this case, it was his arm.

He squawked as you continued slapping his arm, laughing as he tried to wiggle out of his grasp and escape your violent slaps. But he couldn’t, so he did the next best thing and grabbed your hand, stopping you from slapping him.

A weird silence settled over you and you were suddenly aware of how close you two were sitting, his large hand gripping your wrist mid-air as you both stared at each other; panting from the laughter and exertion.

You didn’t know what or how it happened, but suddenly you had your lips pressed to his and he had turned you around, parting your lips with the help of his as he pulled you on top of him. He fell back on the sand with a loud thud and you briefly thought that after this night, you’d both have sand in places you’d never had before. He pulled back and you chased him with your lips, not feeling like stopping anytime soon.

“Is this okay?” He asked, drawing in a heavy breath as one of his hands came to rest on your heated cheek, splaying his fingers.

You pressed your lips to his as an answer, sighing out an embarrassing moan as you pressed your front to his, feeling his hardness against your body. And that’s how you surrendered yourself to him completely.

☼  ☼  ☼

It was weird after that. You had both dressed afterwards and you’d pressed your lips to his in a quick goodbye, turning around and fleeing to your cabin as the sun came peeking out from the horizon. Later that day, around lunch, it was like nothing had happened. You saw him sitting with his twin brother along with a few other counselors around a table, being the loud, rowdy guys as they usually were. And when you walked past him with your tray of food, you couldn’t help but think that you’d been transformed back into last summer when you’d first slept together. He had been your first, so maybe that’s why it hurt back then when he didn’t even look your way.

But as you walked past him today, he had glanced up and locked eyes with you, eyes shining with mirth and something you couldn’t place your finger on. You’d blushed, feeling your cheeks heat up as you hurried over to your table to take your seat beside your friend, and a fellow counselor.

“You look different.” She pointed out quietly, to which you were grateful for because there were five other people sitting around the table and you weren’t in the mood for an interrogation.

“I tried out this new facial creme, I guess it’s working.” You said, putting on your best smile as you picked up a french fry from your plate, biting into it.

Your friend gazed at your face, almost as if she was trying to decide whether you were lying or not. But your lie must’ve worked because she raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows in amusement, going back to gobbling down her food. You held back a sigh, picking up your fork to stab your french fries. When you looked up, you almost gasped when your eyes locked with Ethan’s across the room. He was smiling in amusement, refusing to break the eye contact as he continued to stare you down. You narrowed your eyes, biting back a smile as you crossed your eyes to which he laughed. He shook his head with a smile, looking away and you went back to your food.

“You totally nailed him, didn’t you?” Your friend asked you when you were walking back to your cabin after lunch. You halted your steps, eyes widening as you stared at her. She stopped walking, turning to look at you with a grin. “I knew it.”

“I did no such thing!” You said, but you couldn’t help but laugh and she rolled her eyes. “Can we please change the subject?”

“Oh honey, no. I want details.” She said, backtracking so she could loop her arm through yours, urging you to pick up your pace once again. “Was he good?”

He had been magical. You hadn’t slept with anyone ever since last summer when he’d first taken your virginity, so of course you’d been craving his touch. But you had never realized how much. The both of you had spent so much time hating each other, bickering back and forth and making both of your lives miserable. But looking back on it now, maybe it had all been something more? Something that had been pent up. It terrified you though, because he was still the same douchebag, and you were still the same careful girl.

“I still have sand in places I’m not supposed to have it in.” You answered and your friend laughed out loud.

The bonfire was amazing, as always. It was a warm night and the sky was filled with bright stars. The fire was crackling and burning bright, the campers gathered around as they all fought for a good spot so they could roast their marshmallows and make s’mores.

You sat in the way back, humming along as your friend played her guitar. Eventually she grew tired of playing, so she passed the guitar to another counselor and announced that she was going to get some marshmallows, trudging away to the other side of the bonfire. You watched her with a grin, almost so far gone in your thoughts that you barely had time to notice a body dropping down next to you, sitting as close to you as possible.

“You looked a bit lonely.” Ethan said and you glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

“My friend literally just left me.” You said, laughter lacing your voice as you looked at the other campers. No one was paying attention to you.

“Stop whining and take this.” He rolled his eyes, handing you a delicious looking s’more to which you took happily, biting into it. You groaned in pleasure, mostly for show, and when you looked sideways at Ethan you couldn’t help but giggle at the way he was staring at you. “Menace.”

You laughed, finishing off your treat before brushing the crumbs off your lap. As you sat there in silence, watching the other campers and counselors roasting their marshmallows and singing along to whatever they were playing on the guitar, Ethan let his hand sneak over your thigh, grazing your fingers with his. You looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at you, hazel eyes trained on the large bonfire in front of you.

He suddenly stood up, giving you a look before turning to walk away into the dark forest. You frowned, pushing yourself up on your feet to follow him. As you walked further into the forest, the light from the bonfire had vanished, leaving you in the dark. Just as you were about to turn around and walk back, a hand grabbed your wrist, tugging you to the side. You went with a squeal, tripping over a branch and squeezing your eyes shut tightly, embracing for the fall. But it never came, instead you collided into a solid chest and you scrambled up, feeling disoriented as you smelled the apple and honey. With a blush, you realized that you’d been nuzzling your face into Ethan’s neck, so you pulled away with an awkward laugh.

“If you think I’ll sleep with you again, then you can think again.” You said.

It was dark, but your eyes were adjusting to it. So that meant you could see Ethan’s facial expression as it scrunched into a frown.

“Is that what you think this is?” He asked lowly and now it was your turn to frown.

Laughter came from the bonfire site and you both turned your heads to the sound. As it died down, you looked at Ethan to find him already staring at you. It was unnerving.

“Well, we’ve never had a decent conversation that didn’t end up in me flipping you off. You...” You trailed off, feeling embarrassed that you were about to pour your heart out to the one person you didn’t expect to do it to. “You took my virginity and then you acted like nothing.”

Something flickered in his eyes but it was so fast that you barely had time to comprehend what it was. Ethan shifted his weight on his feet, leaves crunching underneath his shoes.

“I thought that’s what you wanted, so I just went with it.” He said. “I’ve liked you for so long now. I don’t just sleep around with anyone, Y/N. I never would’ve agreed to be your first if I had no intention to talk to you ever again.”

You felt your jaw slacken, trying to process this newfound information. It made your head hurt, because you’d gone for so long thinking that he was an asshole. But it was the opposite. He had feelings for you.

“Oh.” You got out, feeling stupid when you saw his lips pull into a smile.

He took a step forward.

“Yeah, oh.” His smile widened and he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. “Don’t think I’d ever take advantage of you in that way. I like you too much.”

You stared up at him, “So what does this mean?”

He scooted forwards and you could almost feel the warmth of his body.

“Well, it means that if you like me back..” He paused for dramatic effect, making you narrow your eyes. “I can hold your hand in public. It means I can listen to you sassing me every second of the day. It means I can look at you all day without you giving me the glare.”

You laughed in embarrassment, watching as he took a step forwards. The warmth of his breath hit your face, smelling the the sweetness from the chocolate and marshmallows.

“It means I can do this,” He paused and leaned forward, kissing you chastely. “And it means I can touch your body in a way no one else can.”

You felt a shiver run through you, almost going weak as his hands left your cheeks to run down your arms. He slid them around your waist and pulled you flush to his front.

“And it means I can pull those delicious sounds from your pretty little mouth in a way no one else is allowed to.” He emphasized by sliding his large hands over the swell of your ass, grabbing each cheek and giving them a nice squeeze.

You gasped, jerking forward. He smiled sexily, fingers nearing dangerously close to a place where only he had been, feeling the heat against the pads of his fingers. And that was it, you stood up on your toes to reach his lips, kissing him hungrily. He reciprocated, deepening the kiss as he pulled you even closer to his body, sandwiching himself between you and the tree that he was currently resting his back against.

“I’m yours.” You gasped as he pulled back to get air. Your lips touched, making something sizzle deep in your stomach. “I always have been.”

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Seal Lullaby

In small, isolated, tight knit towns, people tend to talk. And in this town, they talk most about the strange couple that live down in the cottage by the sea. They talk about how they just turned up out of the blue one day, they wonder if they'll ever stop having children, they wonder what it is about them that makes them feel so...odd.

My Selkie AU fic! Thanks so much for all the excitement and support over this, it’s really turning into something I’m proud of and I can’t wait to show you guys it. New chapter every Thursday and comments are really really appreciated. Here it is on Ao3 if that’s more your thing and so many thanks to my phenomenal beta readers @minky-for-short @sassy-laffy @purearcticfire

-

Eliza Schuyler had always been a girl who had one foot in some other world.

She was a ‘daydreamer’. She was always ‘away with the fairies’. She was ‘never quite there’. The ‘lights were on but no one was home’.

There were a lot of ways to say it, most of them dripping with honey sweet condescension that making the obstinately gentle phrases feel a little off, more like thinly disguised insults than anything else. They were muttered to Catherine Schuyler by friends and book club members and distant relatives in just enough of a low voice to make it plain that they didn’t want Eliza to hear but didn’t care that she absolutely could. To make it obvious that they were pointing out a serious flaw but in a delicate way that the girl should really be grateful for.

Eliza was never fooled. She knew exactly what they were saying; that she was strange, weird, an anomaly. That the way she went wandering on long, lonely, meandering walks for hours was unusual. That the way she could sit perfectly still and placid, like some eerily glass like lake, perfectly content inside her own head, made her odd. That the way she devoted herself more to the worlds between the pages of books than the one she physically occupied made her seem disjointed and distant.

But she couldn’t have cared less than if the musty, oddly dressed figures in the antique paintings scattered through the Schuyler mansion had begun wittering about her behind their hands. Eliza knew that this world, this life where everything her parents did had to be carefully calculated and considered for how it would ripple through the political and social circles they swam in, it just wasn’t where she belonged. Her older sister Angelica, one of the few people who understood and appreciated Eliza, apparent flaws and all, had learned to adapt. She found that she could easily navigate the complicated maze that was a life at the centre of the New York political scene, she was born to cut her path through the city with her wit and her charm and her brains. Even Peggy, her younger sister, was warming to it, she liked a life of risk and challenge and god, was the life of a Schuyler a challenge. But Eliza had learned very early on that she wasn’t supposed to be here. She preferred things clear, honest, genuine. She liked to know where she stood and know exactly who she was, she liked softness and calm and clean air. And none of that was here. Here things had to change a hundred times a second, the ground was always shifting underneath everyone’s feet.

Of course, Eliza made her peace with it, she’d had to or spend the rest of her life dissatisfied and she hated any kind of confrontation, it was so unnecessary. But there had always been a part of her that had felt like it was waiting. Though for what, she wasn’t quite sure. For something, for the world she was supposed to be in to come and find her.

She’d almost given up, as her twentieth birthday came to pounce on her and her parents started making noises about settling down, about finding a partner, finding a career. Internships and apprenticeships, whatever the hell ‘networking events’ were, battlegrounds and arenas to find a job that involved a glass panelled office and a mahogany desk and spreadsheets and market research, a husband that involved painfully polite dinners, loaded comments over breakfast and very quiet, formulaic sex. Eliza saw all of this coming and began to panic, seeing no way out before it all came crashing down on her head and drowned her. Her something still hadn’t found her; her lifeline was nowhere in sight.

And then, on an otherwise decidedly unspectacular day, it found her.

Or rather, she stumbled upon it. Nearly tripped over it, as a matter of fact.

Eliza had been going crazy cooped up inside the beach house. So, when the storm finally passed on and some weak sunlight began filtering through the thick, cloying grey clouds and the wind calmed from a furious howl to a vaguely irritated murmur, the instant the weather got over its days long tantrum, she was out of the door. Driven to the brink of insanity having no power, trapped between four walls with her parents constantly needling at her how she really should be attending Mrs Washington’s party next week, it would be useful for her, very beneficial; drowning them out by wishing with all her heart that Angelica hadn’t left on her honeymoon three days ago and Peggy hadn’t wriggled free of the family’s yearly beach vacation with pleas that her finals were coming up. As soon as the storm died down, she kicked back her bedcovers, pulled on some ratty old jeans and a threadbare brown wool jumper, her ever faithful scuffed, clunky boots and ran outside before either of her parents could snag her with a pointed remark. She didn’t even bring a coat, she wanted to feel the cold mist of the morning and the slight wind against her skin.

Eliza felt all her troubles begin to dissipate to some far corner of her mind, almost as soon as her boots began to crunch the dark, pebbly sand and the shore came into view. Everything was grey and cool and a little damp and that was exactly what she loved about it. The landscape looked as if it had been painted by some melancholic artist and Eliza could empathise with them. This was where she wanted to be right now, somewhere that made her shiver and squint a little and just feel a little more alive than she’d felt in a while, alone with the waves sighing against the shore and the breeze gossiping quietly as it ran through the long grasses.

And it was when Eliza was just wandering in blissful aimlessness on that freeing morning, on the beach that was quietly steeling back down after a storm, that she nearly tripped over the rest of her future.

She’d been nudging away all the pieces of driftwood that littered the shoreline to make herself a path, wanting to stick as close to the water as possible so it lapped at the base of her shoes. And some of the bigger scraps, the ones that maybe had once been part of a building, maybe someone’s home or a mighty ship, they required a bit of a kick to send them back into the waves and on their way to another shore. So Eliza made a bit of a game of daydreaming where these slabs of aged, salt worn driftwood may have come from and once been in another life as she nudged each one out of her way. It was a lot of fun actually…

Until one of the pieces of driftwood yelped when she kicked it.

There was simply no other response to that than to scream loud enough that it echoed all along the foggy beach and to pitch backwards onto the soggy sand. Which is what Eliza did, falling back on her butt and scrambling away, her dark eyes wide and terrified, anticipating some attack from the creature from the black lagoon. They’d find the careworn boots her mother had always hated on the beach that night and that’s all they’d have of her to bury…

But it wasn’t a monster. At least she didn’t think so.

The shadow she’d just unceremoniously kicked rolled, unfurled and sat up. It was a boy. A young man except…even in the first second she looked at him, in the mist, there was a second where she refused to believe he was even human at all, he looked like something from another reality in a way that was imperceptible but so obvious it was like the difference between up and down. And then the mist cleared as the young man began to hack and cough and wheeze, sounding terrifyingly sick and very normal. Eliza gasped and saw him clearly for what he was, a muscular but lithe man of what must be exactly her age if not very close, amber skin dappled with droplets of water, long dark hair plastered to his head almost all the way down to his shoulders, sharp features, long nose, high forehead and the most intense eyes she’d ever seen. It was those eyes that convinced her that the brief moment of unreality hadn’t just been a dream, that for a split second he really had appeared to her as something unknowable even in the oldest, dustiest, most worn tomes of myth and legend. But now all he was just a scared, cold, shivering young man, looking at her with as much fear and awe as must be in her eyes too. Like she was something odd and strange.

She also realised in that moment that he was completely naked. And making no effort to hide that fact. In the split second before she went bright red and made a point of fixing her eyes on his face, she noted that the hair that ran across his chest and muscled midriff and down to…other places was as dark as the hair on his head. The hair that was forming along his jaw into what would eventually become a goatee once he matured a little, tipped completely from adolescence into adulthood.

Eliza blinked slowly, the stunned silence between them stretching on and on until eventually she just squeaked, “I’m sorry I kicked you.” It seemed like the most appropriate thing to say at the time.

The young man blinked back, almost like he was mimicking her movements. He didn’t speak.

“I…were you swimming? It’s kind of cold out…” Eliza tried, wincing a little at her own awkwardness.

That seemed to get some response, there was recognition in those pitch-dark eyes and Eliza found that once she looked into them it was almost impossible to look away again. He nodded, a surprisingly assured nod for a guy that was butt naked and soaked on a freezing cold beach.

“Well, you’re brave,” Eliza commented, slipping into her habit of talking plainly and directly, whatever the situation, “Swimming right after a storm.”

Another response, that word storm seemed to shake something in him. Bad memories it seemed like, he looked suddenly cowed and afraid.

Eliza felt a dart of sympathy, “Did you…did you get caught in the storm?”

Of course, he’d been lying here amongst the driftwood, just like he himself was some of the flotsam and jetsam that the ferocious weather had displaced and kicked around for its own amusement. There was another, slightly sadder nod of confirmation.

She had made up her mind. Eliza was one of those rare people whose immediate response to anything was unflinching kindness and she wasn’t about to leave this poor guy naked and clearly borderline hypothermic. She got up, dusted the sand off the seat of her jeans and offered him her hand.

“Come on, you look like you need a hot drink and a blanket. I’ve even got some clothes you can wear, I think.”

He looked at her open palm with a mix of apprehension and curiosity for a long time.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” Eliza bit her lower lip, “I won’t even tell my parents, you don’t have to worry about them. You can trust me.”

He fixed his dark eyes on her- the ones that Eliza’s mind had decided looked like the blackest sea glass- and he nodded again. He did trust her, she could read it on his face.

As he took her hand and used it to haul himself up on shaky legs, as his unnaturally icy cold skin met her unusually warm skin, it was like a spark passed through them. A small but undeniable charge that made both sets of eyes open wide and both jaws drop slightly and both hearts beat a little faster. Neither of them could put a name to it, to the feeling that suddenly flooded both of their chests, but they were both so aware of it that it was as if it coloured the world. Like they could suddenly hear even the soft rustlings of the kelp way below the waves, see the individual particles of dust carried on the wind, smell the delicate scent of the tiny but hearty flowers that grew in the sea grass. Everything was suddenly more. That was the only way it could be rationalised.

“My name is Alexander.”

It took Eliza a moment to realise he had even spoken. But who else could that voice have come from; that voice that was lyrical and a little sharp with an accent that came from a place Eliza had never seen but also, somehow, knew she could never go to.

“Oh. I’m…I’m Eliza,” she answered, her own voice sounding shaky and breathy and unsure in comparison.

But the light that came on in his eyes when she said it. Alexander looked like he had never heard anything so beautiful.

The fact that he wasn’t fully human was so obvious that Eliza’s brain somehow just accepted it with no fuss. It was clear as day in the way he walked, like Bambi on ice, like the concept of getting around on two skinny legs was completely foreign to him. In the way, he kept touching his arms and running his hands through his hair and poking his stomach like he didn’t fully get that they belonged to him. The way he looked surprise at the sound of his own voice, like it startled him.

So there was something about him, that much was clear. What he was could wait, Eliza had the patience to just file that away until more immediate problems could be addressed. Like how exactly she was going to smuggle a very undressed Alexander into the Schuyler beach house, get him a shower and clothes and a hot meal without either her mother or father seeing. Because this was something she absolutely did not want to have to explain. Not just because she had no idea how but also because she felt a kind of possessiveness over him. This was what she had been waiting for, the confirmation that she wasn’t a freak or wired incorrectly, that she’d simply been in the wrong place up until now. Her parents had had their chance to understand, they’d refused. So Alex was hers and no one else’s. Plus, who know what they’d do with him, who they’d hand him over to. Eliza was not letting go of him, no way. She’d promised to take care of him.

Fortunately, her parents were still asleep, with it only being around seven in the morning so as long as they were quiet she should be able to sneak him into her room without too much trouble, he’d be safe there until…until she figured out where to go from there.

Except for one thing. Alex didn’t seem to really do quiet.

As soon as they walked through the door, those eyes snapped so wide until they took up most of his face, his jaw going slack with such childlike wonder it was a little startling. He was suddenly seized with a compulsion to touch everything like all of this was completely new to him. This didn’t combine well with his uncertain, clumsy movements; by the time Eliza had managed to herd him into the kitchen, he’d nearly knocked over the television, the ceramic vase, the side table.

The kitchen was even worse, the young man was like a hurricane. Eliza turned her back once to get a mug to make a hot drink and in seconds he’d knocked over a whole tray of cutlery as he’d tried to reach the vase of flowers on the windowsill. By some miracle, there was no movement from upstairs.

“Dude!” she hissed, pushing on his back to move him away from the carnage, trying to decide if she was more bemused or exasperated, “You’re going to wake up my parents!”

“Oh!” Alex only seemed to brighten at that, turning quickly so Eliza suddenly found her palms pressed to his damp chest. So much so she could feel the muscles rippling underneath his skin like living stone. She retracted her hands, fast.

“So, you live with your pod?” he chirruped as she waved him over to stand by the counter.

“My…my pod?” Eliza blinked in confusion, pausing as she went to hurry to the laundry room to fetch him a towel.

“Yeah,” Alex nodded, apparently not seeing her puzzlement, “How many of you are there? Are they all like you? You said your parents, do you have brothers and sisters too?”

She was a little taken aback, he asked questions with the rapid pace and animated curiosity of a small child at a museum, “Oh. You mean my family?”

Alex shrugged, “I guess.”

“Well, it’s only me and Mama and Papa here right now,” Eliza answered, busying herself with foraging in the laundry pile for the biggest towel she could find for him, “But I do have sisters. Two of them.”

“Wow, really?”

Eliza jumped a mile, in the blink of an eye Alex had somehow crossed the distance between them to stand right behind her. Apparently, personal space was another thing he just didn’t do.  

“Um…yes,” Eliza hurriedly passed him the towel, biting back a slightly exasperated sigh as he looked at it in confusion for a few heartbeats before swinging it around his shoulders, looking to her for approval. She showed him how to tie it off around his waist.

“That’s really lucky,” there was a very obvious wistful note to Alex’s voice as he trotted at her heels back to the kitchen, like he was eager to see whatever oddities she had to show him next.

Eliza looked at him as she got him down a can of soup from the pantry. Soup would help warm him up, he was still so bitterly cold she was starting to worry.

“Do you not live with your family?” she asked delicately.

He shook his head, looking a little morose, “No. It was always just my mother and me so after she died I was just on my own.”

He looked so small and lonely in that moment, Eliza was struck with a sudden urge to hold him. Fortunately, she caught it and pulled it back before she could look like a complete weirdo.

“I’m so sorry,” she said instead, meaning it.

“Fisherman got her,” Alex looked down at his bare feet, avoiding her gaze for the first time since they’d met, “They were after me, wanted my pelt but she…she put herself in between them so I could get away.”

Eliza’s jaw opened and closed a few times. That was an awful lot of information to just offer up to a stranger. And not a lot of it made sense. There were certainly more than a few words that hit her ear wrong, that jarred in the context. But they could wait.

So, what she did was she reached over and took his hand, squeezing it tight and firm in just a kind of ‘I’m here, you’re not alone’ gesture. Eliza was a firm believer that there wasn’t much such a gesture couldn’t solve.

It certainly seemed to work for Alex. Though startled at first, like consoling touch had become a little foreign to him, she soon felt his long fingers wrap around hers in turn and the raincloud that had settled over his face lifted a little.

It had gone entirely by the time Eliza had him wrapped up in one of her father’s roomier sweaters, it hung off his slim frame like a flag on a windless day, sat cross legged up on the counter top with a bowl of chicken soup in his hands that he was devouring like it was the first food he’d seen in days. As soon as he’d gotten past staring at himself in the silvered surface of the spoon in fits of delighted giggles, he’d fallen on the soup like he was ravenous; it had only been two minutes and the bowl was nearly empty. Eliza sat opposite him, watching him with a calm, curious eye, trying to start sifting through some of the things about him that made no sense.

She wasn’t having much luck.

“Here, you try!” Alex was holding out the bowl to her again, he’d done that more than a few times. Despite his obvious hunger, he was determined to share with her, “It’s so good, it’s amazing!”

“I’m okay,” she smiled softly as she gently pressed the bowl back towards him, finding his insistence sweet, “I made it for you.”

That seemed to satisfy him for now, he went back to eating with as much gusto as before.

“Alexander?” Eliza piped up after a few more moments of oddly companionable silence.

His dark eyes flickered upwards, fixing on hers with no embarrassment or flinching away.

“Eliza!” he seemed to enjoy just saying her name, he was taking every opportunity to do so. In his accent, his strange sharp tone that only made Eliza want to hear more of it, her name had a beauty to it that even her low self-esteem couldn’t deny.

“Where did you come from?” she decided just to be straightforward.

“Oh, from the sea,” he answered easily, nodding his head and wiping his mouth on the sweater’s sleeve, “I wander around a lot, started off up near Scotland but then I kept going further south because, y’know, without a pod I wasn’t doing so well with the cold and all that?”

Eliza didn’t know, she didn’t know at all, but she nodded all the same. This kid sure loved to talk, once he opened his mouth it was clear in his voice there were no plans to stop.

“But then there was that storm, did you see it! Flung me all over the place, I thought I was going to die. I got caught right in the middle of it, I didn’t even have time to brace myself. I was so scared, blacked out, then the next thing I knew, I had your boot in my ribs!”

Eliza bit her lower lip, “I’m still sorry about that. I thought you were driftwood.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” Alex honestly couldn’t look much happier about that fact, “I’m glad you did. No one’s ever been as nice to me as you. And I’ve never spent any time as a human before, it’s cool. Weird though, how do you stay up on just two feet? And I’m freezing, there’s no fur anywhere! Expect down here I guess, small mercies…”

Eliza’s breath caught in her throat, “W-wait, so…so if you’re not human…then what are you?”

For her, that question was a heavy weight, something loaded and tense and crackling. But he answered it like she’d just asked him what his favourite colour was.

“Oh, I’m a selkie?” he shrugs, “Sure, I guess you didn’t recognise me without the pelt, huh?”

That word had an edge of familiarity to it, like she’d read it somewhere in a story book before, a long time ago back when such ideas had enough magic to make them seem like possibilities. But it had no place here, here in reality, here on the cusp of adulthood?

“A…selkie?” she tried to get her mouth around the word and fumbled.

Alex nodded, “Yes. The seal people. A skin changer.”

“Oh,” Eliza wasn’t sure what to say to that. Because of course it was the truth, that wasn’t what she was finding problematic, that wasn’t the pill that got stuck in her throat. The problem was what to do about it.

“Except now I’ve lost my skin,” Alex sighed, putting the bowl down and running both hands through his salt stiff hair in distress. He looked like someone who’d just had a horrible realisation and was now spiralling, like some awful thought had just pounced on him and sunk it’s claws in, “I let go of it in the storm and now I don’t know where it is. And I can’t go back to the sea without it.”

Eliza fixed on this, this sounded like something logical that can be easily fixed. A problem with a clear and cut solution, unlike what to do with the fact that there were apparently creatures that could switch from seals to humans as easily as shrugging off a coat.

“If you just let go of it, it will probably have followed the same path,” she patted Alex’s knee reassuringly, “It can’t be too far away. I’ll help you find it.”

Physical touch seemed to relax him, he started to settle as soon as her warm palm rested on him. The temperature difference between them was still very obvious. It was slowly dawning on her that maybe Alex just ran a little colder.

“Maybe not today,” her mouth twisted worriedly, looking at the clock on the wall, “You might need to lay low today.”

Alex tilted his head, trying to follow her gaze, mimic her movements like he was taking all his cues from her.

“You look exhausted,” Eliza nodded, “Are you okay with just sleeping in my room while I fib my parents off as much as I can? I know it’s not ideal, I’m sorry, I’ll come up and see you every chance I get but I can’t have them finding you. As soon as it gets dark and they go to bed, we’ll go look for your…your skin.”

The implicit trust in his eyes was disarming, borderline terrifying. Like he’d follow her to the ends of the earth without too much questioning. Eliza had to look away after a few beats of it, close to being overwhelmed just by that honesty. She just couldn’t face it.

Any more than she could face the fact that, if asked, she was starting to feel like she’d follow him too.