#sharks are supposed to float in the water T-T

[inkblot-inc]

If Jaws has to be up by a certain time when they aren’t on a mission it’s been discovered that Wanda or Nat need to be sent to wake them. Because they’ll break any sort of alarm clock, including their phone, to make it shut up. And when Tony asked Friday to wake Jaws that just ended with Jaws trashing Tony’s lab. Wanda had put them in a ‘time out’ for that. Which just means that she floated them in the air with her powers while she continued on with her business till she thinks they have atoned for their guppy crimes.

I can see this happening a lot earlier on, but Jaws does fall back into that from time to time

Wanda just watching Jaws' intimidating figure flailing in the air and making no progress trying to get down 😂

"You can't keep doing this to me Wanda! Sharks are meant to float in WATER you know!"

Wanda looks up from her book and slightly tilts her head to the side, "I can do this for as long as I want, gup. You brought this onto yourself-"

"I know, I know, and I'm SORRY!"

Wanda raised a brow in doubt, "You're sorry about trashing Tony's lab?"

Jaws eyes glinted with hope, "Yes, yes I am!"

Wanda set her book down for a second. "Mm... Ten more minutes. It's not good to lie, guppy."

Jaws eyes widened as they watched her get up and walk out of the room without warning. "Wha-?! COME ON I HAVE TO PEE!"

Nat just recording the whole thing on the side for later-

[myfairkatiecat]

I KNEW IT: my message to @nobodysdaydreams about how I KNEW she wrote “Sirens of the Sea and Sky”

That’s when Nicholas saw him again.

Nathaniel.

There was no mistaking him: his cold and menacing presence, his shark-like grin, his terrible predatory eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the room.

“Hello Nicky,” he cooed, his voice sounding sickly-sweet despite its threatening aura.

This was the first moment where I thought bods wrote this. I mean, that was a VERY well placed use of the nickname “Nicky.” Also just the very STYLE in which bods addresses Benedict twins angst is so unique. Anyone could have written the fic, but not everyone could have written it THIS WAY.

“I’m surprised you were brave enough to come up here alone. Impressed really. Though I must say I wasn’t happy with what my men found in your boat,” noted Nathaniel.

“You know how I feel about nets Nicky.”

“It was fishing boat!” Nicholas protested.

My friend, I’m afraid this particular grammatical decision outed you. I mean, lots of people do it occasionally I suppose, but I don’t even get confused reading it anymore after consuming the amount of SOS that I have. After finishing Nathaniel’s line and writing “noted Nathaniel,” you broke the paragraph to continue his dialogue. This switched on the SOS-reading part of my brain, and I just KNEW. I knew it, bods.

“Didn’t they meet him before?”

“No, that wouldn’t have been until season two,” Jillson explained.

“What is going on here? What happened?” asked Nathaniel.

“I’m afraid the perimeter is no longer secure sir. He’s broken the fourth wall!” yelled Jeffers, as he ran to join the others, huffing and puffing as he did so.

“Actually, we were the ones that did that,” clarified Jackson.

“No, he means literally,” explained Jillson.

That’s a familiar sense of humor and it made me laugh out loud. “Bods, you’ve done it again!!!” I wanted to shout then and there.

Now I WILL SAY, it got into fantastical elements and I began to wonder. I was still pretty sure. But I’d never read any fleshed out writing by bods that was about mermaids and all, so I thought, perhaps someone is simply emulating my friend quite well… maybe bods didn’t write it…?

“No,” whispered Nicholas, realizing what his brother was about to do, but it was already too late to stop him.

A grand piano rolled itself across the deck.

“Where did that come from?” asked Constance.

A single spotlight shone down from the crow’s nest, its glowing golden light resting on the piano.

Everyone fell silent.

Nathaniel sat down and began to play and sang a tune so beautiful and melodious it felt like the world was standing still.

“It’s…the final Curtain,” he sang.

Yeah no this is bods, no one else could have possibly written this.

Curtain making his escape with the power of musical theater? WE LOVE TO SEE IT! A Christmas gift only bods could have delivered.

“Dr. Garrison was a mermaid and a recovering alcoholic!”

You really outed yourself with this one. We’ve all read SOS, even if not everyone follows it as religiously as I do.

“Oh…hello,” said Nicholas softly.

“I’m not sure if you know my mother or my brother, but if you do, could you please tell them that I’ve missed them?”

“I missed you too.”

Nicholas looked up to see Nathaniel’s head, just visible above the surface of the water, as if it were beach ball floating on top of the waves.

“I’m sorry Nicky. I’m sorry for everything, but I can’t stay here. Not anymore. The world would only see me as a monster now, and I supposed they’d be right.”

“No, no, Nathaniel, you’re not a monster! You’re my brother, you…you can’t go,” protested Nicholas.

Look, LOTS of people can write good Benedict twins angst. But this is BODS Benedict twins angst. The soft speaking, the trepidation, the complicated feelings, the apology, Nicholas telling Nathaniel he isn’t a monster… THIS IS THE STUFF! This reunion actually could have been written by either bods or me, actually, but seeing as I was too IRL busy to participate in this challenge, that leaves bods.

Also, girl, it was 5,000 words!!! That’s almost twice the length of my IB Extended Essay!

Hmmmm who has undertaken enormous fic projects in the past? *sorts mbs fics by word count* hmmm

I just KNEW IT WAS BODS OKAY

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

*claps* okay so I had some weird dreams and yet also gorgeous at the same time

I was supposed to be helping cook for an Eid dinner that also included a couple of random guys that I guess were invited for Eid? One of them kept hitting on me, I actually remember what he looked like he looked like Jade’s boyfriend from Victorious. I flirted back a little but I was mostly bored hence, flirting back because meh why not

We sit down to eat and there’s this huge like explosion or attack or something (I am so sad we didn’t get to eat those perfect looking roast potatoes 🥹) and there’s this huge monster type thing roaming. Snake/dragon monster? Idk it’s long and dark red with a rounded snout

I immediately snap into action because somehow me and some other girls (who I don’t actually know) are turned into superheroes, or specifically anime magical girls. Like one second I was peering out from a broken wall to the street and seeing the monster calling out for me and the next I feel this burst of light and seeing other girls getting surrounded by it as well

So… magical girl transformations in dreams are a bit weird you really gotta focus on hope and willpower for it to work and I was a bit out of it because the dream so far had been looking like a family therapy dream and now huh??

So I was struggling to focus on transforming but I shut my eyes and managed partially to transform by throwing myself out of the building and transformed as I fell. I transformed, but didn’t quite activate my powers. Actually had no idea what my powers were I couldn’t decide I was so turned around. I was trying to activate a flight power but it was working slow, in the meantime I got hunted and chased around the city by this monster and I also needed to figure out a plan to kill it.

We were on some sort of island city? I managed to float, not quite strong fly, towards the edge of it after being chased all throughout it and I was at a cliff when faced by the monster.

So naturally, I jumped off of it.

And fell deep into the ocean.

Crazy right? Well I was counting on my flight powers kicking in properly.

I open my eyes after hitting the water and the sea looks like…. Melted sapphires, it’s shining and shimmering even underwater. I can see the ebb and flow and the waves above me and the ripples underneath them, and it’s quiet. The water is clear but a gorgeous turquoise blue at the same time and I feel a mix of peace but apprehension because as much as I love the ocean, I know I have slight fears about it as well. If I wasn’t careful with my thoughts I might turn this moment into a scary one

I turn and look down as I think that and I see this *giant* sea creature with massive gills, it’s a rushed moment so I don’t quite fixate on the image because I want to be in awe of it, not scared of it, I think I immediately focus on the idea of a whale shark so it IS a whale shark.

And I focus on the idea of flying, flying up and very strongly and I think the creature helps me because I feel pushed to the surface as I shoot up, bursting out of the water properly flying now. Okay, time to get to business.

I lay out a trap, it seems most of the other girls have gotten injured so it’s up to me, I get the monster to follow me as I fall out of a building, calling for it to come get me. Just before I hit the ground and open my wings (damn I have wings?) and shoot off across the street, keeping it close behind me. I still haven’t thought of a weapon to use against it, usually I would have given myself a fight power at this point? But I think it looks too huge and scary I can’t think of shooting or firing some sort of attack at it.

I weave through the city, disorientating it before flying to the edge of the island out to open sea

I shut my eyes and hope really hard and- YES the sea creature (it was some kind of sea dragon) bursts out of the waves and takes it down

……I just remembered this is a bit from Shang Chi isn’t it? The dragon in the sea

I’ve always had dreams like this that’s WHY I loved that scene so much so like shush don’t even Marvel plagiarised my dreams babes *flicks hair back*

[archoniluthradanar]

A Day at the Beach with the Volturi Kings

The weather in Volterra and the surrounding area was beautiful today. Since the entirety of the Guard had been given time off, there was little to do at the castle. You, the only human allowed to live with the Volturi and not having been given an actual job to do, suggested you and the three kings go out and enjoy a day at the beach. On the West coast of Italy, there were several beaches popular with the locals but there are also areas less visited, perfect for the vampires who treasured their privacy.

First, you drive to a local store similar to a Target back home in America, having borrowed Caius' sports car. Using the credit card the masters generously gave you for your own use, you buy several beach blankets, an umbrella, towels, sun protectant, sunglasses, water and snacks for yourself, and several different pool floats.

Once you arrive back at the castle, you load up the trunk of Marcus' car, the largest of the three masters' vehicles. You see everyone has chosen to wear jeans and t-shirts, extremely casual for the Volturi masters.

"You all do have your swimsuits, right?" you ask, hoping they don't intend to go skinny dipping. You have your blue floral one piece underneath your clothes, with the matching cover-up and floppy hat you're bringing along.

"Yes, of course. We do not intend to swim unclothed," Aro tells you, relief running through you.

"Well, if everyone is ready, let's get into the car." It's your duty to drive, something you love anyway. The masters all have such interesting vehicles, but you think you like Caius' car the most.

The drive is pleasant enough, but the masters aren't talking too much, making you feel uncomfortable. You peer into the rearview mirror, and notice them sitting stiffly, as vampire's do, looking out the windows at the passing scenery. Ok, so everything is fine, you think.

Aro catches your eye when he notices you looking at them. "Watch the road, my dear," he cautions, making you smile. "Yes, sir," you say.

Once you reach the coast, you follow a road down to the beach, parking on the blacktop abutting the sand. Everyone climbs out of the car while you gather the purchases you've chosen for the day.

Once the masters have reached the beach, you spread out the blankets, set up the umbrella, and place the bags of water, food and sun protectant on them.

You slip your jeans down, then lift your pullover up and off your body. You turn to place the folded clothes on the corner of a blanket and gasp when you see all three of the kings stripping down to their birthday suits. You turn your back on them, even though you are tempted to watch them. Their bodies are beautiful, like sculpted marble, but you have never seen them fully nude before.

"Aro, have you no shame? Why didn't you wear your swimsuits under your jeans?"

"Were we supposed to? You never mentioned that." He looked to his brothers, waving his hand at them, indicating to you they are also dressing in the open.

You bring your hand up to block the tempting vision from your curiosity. Heaven help you if Aro decides to read you right now. "We are in public, Aro. Did you just happen to lose your modesty over the centuries?" Unable to resist, you spread your fingers ever so slightly and hold your breath. OMG, you think, your face blushing hot. You quickly turn away to rub sunscreen on your skin.

Once everyone is dressed in their swimwear, you pull out the selection of pool floats. "These are for having fun in the water. There are different ones for you to choose from." You set them out, design side up.

Right away, Caius picks up the one that has a picture of a tank on it. "This one is mine," he says with a wicked grin on his face. He begins to blow it up, even if the float is bigger than he is, leaving you impressed.

Aro chooses a float that is in the shape of a shark. "Ah, I shall take the predator that loves to eat humans." He takes the float in his hands and turns it around until he finds the air valve. "I blow into this, is that correct?" he asks you, smiling when he sees you nod. He encircles the nozzle with his mouth and blows. He gets a good amount of air into the plastic shark, but his teeth bite too hard on the nozzle and it splits off, letting out any air he had blown into it. It flies around until it falls into the water with a sound similar to a human experiencing flatulence. His chooses a second one, which he fills with air correctly.

Marcus has picked one in the shape of a coffin. He quickly blows it up, and setting it on the water, he lies fully relaxed in his coffin-shaped float, leaving the top sitting loosely over the bottom section.

Wading out to him, you look down at the reclining vampire and smile. "Marcus, I know you're depressed much of the time, but I hope you're not planning to leave us."

"No, child, but I am enjoying the visual effect and the feel of it." You lean down to kiss his cheek. "Very well. Enjoy yourself." You push the oddly shaped float out into deeper water for Marcus.

Caius blew up his tank float, but when he sat on it, it kept tipping over. Peeved, he adds a bit more air and finds it firmer. He sits in the float, where you show him how to fill small water containers built into it. "Your weapons, Caius." You wink at him and wade over to Aro.

His second float has a built in motor. On each arm sits a device that looks like joysticks. He discovers by moving them, he can make the float travel over the water and change direction as needed.

You look down at him and ask, "What is that?"

"It's my swimsuit," he replies.

"Not that." You reach down and tap his nose with a fingertip. "That."

"It's zinc oxide, to protect the skin from sunburn. Should I cover my entire face?"

"And make you look whiter than you already are? I don't think so. You guys don't sunburn! But here are your sunglasses to hide your eyes in case a human walks by."

"You look lovely in your swimsuit, my dear," he says, his eyes looking you up and down appreciatively.

"Stop leering," you order him, then chuckle, shaking your head. Aro knows how much you love them, but you aren't sure if Marcus and Caius know, unless the senior master had already told them.

Aro places the glasses on his face and sits back, enjoying the warmth of the sun. He learns how to steer his float around, and bumps into Caius repeatedly, who is definitely not amused. He shoots a large stream of water at Aro, who protests loudly as he waves his hands in front of himself.

You laugh and give sunglasses to the other two masters, then put on your own. You pick an ordinary pink mat and blow it up, then push it further out into the water, avoiding Caius' aimed water streams.

The day passes, with the four beach-goers either tormenting one another, or just relaxing. Hungry, you leave the water, pulling the mat behind you and slip on the cover-up. Sitting on a blanket in the shade, you grab a bottle of water, a candy bar, and a bag of Fritos while watching the masters enjoy a very human activity.

After you finish your snacks, you call out, "So are you all ready to dry off?" As soon as they stand and walk out of the water, you become transfixed by the shimmer of their skin in the sun. You go to them and help deflate the floats, then hand each a towel. When they remove their swimsuits to dry off, you look around and do the same. "When in Rome," you say aloud.

"What is that, my dear?" Aro asks.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just learning from you." You dry off and dress. Once you have packed the beach paraphernalia into the trunk, the three masters approach the car. You give each a hug, saying, "Thank you for a wonderful day."

"It was your idea, child," Marcus says.

"Yes, but it wouldn't have been any fun without all of you."

Caius holds the driver's door of the car open for you, a smile on his pale face. He kisses your cheek, causing you to blush. After the masters have climbed into the car, you drive back to Volterra, happy to be where you are. In a castle full of vampires who love you.

[collecting-stories]

A Study in JJ Maybank

I’m bored and was trying to shake my writer’s block so I made this headcanon for JJ. 

[this gif isn’t mine.]

✕ ✕ ✕ ✕

- The first time JJ broke a bone he was in third grade. He told the school nurse that he fell off his skateboard but his dad had slammed him into the floor when he found out JJ had stolen cigarettes from his pack.  

- Since then JJ has stopped telling people when he’s injured and sometimes picks fights with kooks to cover bruises he gets from his dad. 

- JJ’s dad taught him not to trust the police because he didn’t want JJ to feel like he had anyone to go to about the abuse.

- As he gets older and the police start to treat him like they're just waiting to send him to juvie he believes his dad more and more.

- When Peterkin threatens him with jail time on the mainland, he actually considers that, at least, he would be away from his dad for a time. But he doesn’t want to do that to his friends so he cooperates.

- Luke constantly tells JJ that he’ll be alone if JJ leaves him and that without JJ there he’ll kill himself. 

- Luke is extremely emotionally manipulative to JJ and has, in the past, drank so much that its caused anxiety attacks, prompting JJ into the role of caretaker.

- None of his clothes are really his, everything is hand-me-downs from cousins. His boots used to be his dad’s. 

- The only thing he owns is his shark necklace that his mom gave him. His rings are from his grandfather, he took them when they went to clean out the house after he died. 

- The Maybank’s frequently don’t have electricity or running water. 

- JJ works a bunch of odd jobs so he can float under the radar and not pay taxes because he needs the money for house bills and food.

- They’re on food stamps, and used to be on WIC, but his dad usually sells the card for drug money at the beginning of the month.

- Luke is on unemployment and his cousins are all frequently trying to work the system though they’re extremely racist toward POC that need government assistance. 

- JJ’s family are definitely all Trump-supporting (though none of them actually vote), anti-government, conspiracy theorists that tote guns and say racist shit as if it’s a joke. Probably has some KKK members in there too. 

- Spending so much time away from home with Kiara and Pope has influenced a lot of what JJ believes and he struggles internally with a lot of conflicting ideologies. 

- He can draw really well but never actually shows up for school because he works so much. Has been told multiple times by his dad that stuff like art is for girls and that he’s a pussy for liking it so he doesn’t tell anyone. 

- He’s got CHIP now but when he turns 18 he knows that he won’t have health insurance any longer. 

- He hasn't gotten his license because the week he was supposed to get his physical for his permit, Luke dislocated JJ’s shoulder and JJ had to cancel his appointment.

- Mama L at the Island Club knows he doesn’t get food at home so she sneaks scraps for him at the end of shift.

- JJ’s overprotective of his friends because he thinks that if he had protected his mom better she wouldn’t have left.

- His mom left when he was six years old. Luke found out that she was cheating on him and he kicked her out of the house, screaming at her that she was a whore and a terrible mother and that she would never see JJ again. 

- She was planning on going back for JJ but never worked up the nerve. Luke blames JJ for her cheating, saying that if he had been a better kid his mom wouldn’t have wanted to leave them. 

- John B tells him that he doesn’t know what it’s like to have the only person who cared about him disappear after Big John goes missing but JJ does, he feels like everyone stopped caring the minute his mom left.

- His mom’s parents live off the island but they used to live on the obx and after she was kicked out and left they stopped coming around to see JJ because Luke threatened them. 

- He told JJ they stopped because they never loved him and that Luke is the only person who loves him. 

- JJ started smoking in third grade, bumming cigarettes off his cousins before he started smoking weed.

- When he was twelve he started drinking more hardcore, stealing beers from his dad’s fridge or from John B’s Uncle T. 

- He would never do hard drugs because he’s seen what it does to people in his family, most of his aunts and uncles have done or still do coke and heroin. One of his uncles even makes meth.

- Kiara tells him he’s never been to resurrection drive but he’s been down that way plenty of times to get stuff for his dad.

- His grandfather was abusive to his father but mellowed by the time JJ was born, still he’s heard stories about the way his dad was treated as a kid which makes him more empathetic to his father, though Luke doesn’t deserve it.

- JJ thinks Kiara can be tone deaf sometimes when she talks about socioeconomic issues or drug addiction stigma but he rarely says anything. 

- “You don’t know what it’s like to be down in it.”

- When he was in elementary and middle school the counselor tried to talk to him about the possibility of having a dissociative disorder but JJ refused to talk to her.

- He has little motivation to do anything with his life, assuming he’ll just end up like his dad, but he’s always supportive of his friends ideas.

- People like Peterkin used to feel bad for him when he was a kid but now they just treat him the same way his dad does, like he’s worthless to them.

- He puts on a show for his friends so they never think to look beneath the surface and figure out that something is wrong. 

Bonus:

- Kiara does have a crush on JJ but she would never pursue a relationship with him because, as much as she likes him, she views him as having no prospective future or drive and thinks he would hold her back in life.

[tell me anymore you have]

[missramu]

Back with the kisses!

Hiya! I know it's been a while, but, good news! Have some sappy JKRM beach episode

Kiss number 26: as an apology

“Are you ready, hun?”

The doctor asked while he went down the checklist. Organized as he was, he insisted on checking every item that was lying by the sofa right in front of him, in order to make sure they wouldn’t forget to bring anything important. It was finally August, and Jakurai’s summer holidays had just started. And, with that, their summer trip.

“Ngh-- Almost! Oof!--”

Replied the younger one, as he tried to close a small suitcase by sitting on top of it. Jakurai, intrigued by his partner’s frustrated noises, went to see what was going on in their bedroom. As soon as he stepped inside, he found the designer struggling with his luggage.

“What on earth could you be possibly packing, Ramuda-kun? We’re going to stay at the hotel for a week, not a month.”

The doctor said that mockingly, but Ramuda stopped right on the spot, looking at him as if he just asked the most stupid of questions. How dare he question his fashion needs?

“And? You never know when you will need fancy clothes! What if I need more shirts because I get mine dirty? Or--!”

Jakurai sighed, drawing a half-smile on his face. This was their usual procedure, after all. Ramuda insisted on packing –excessively– extra clothing, and he had the task of making him see he didn’t need that many.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

After a quick rearrangement and a couple of pouty faces, Jakurai made the pink-haired man realize it was alright to leave behind a three-piece suit –which he wouldn’t have needed anyway– as well as, at least, 7 extra shirts and tees. No need to say that it took them a little while, because Ramuda was stubborn and refused to leave without the garments, but the doctor managed to convince him. He just knew too well how to deal with him at this point.

“It’s good to be ready ‘just in case’, but that was… exaggerated”

Once everything was settled, Jakurai checked his mental list again, trying to recall if something was missing. Meanwhile, Ramuda fastened his sandals and waited at the entrance, swinging his feet back and forth playfully.

“Good thing we’re driving there, cuz if we had to take a train, we’d have probs missed it by now”

The taller man raised an eyebrow as a response, turning to face him.

“Says the one who made us lose our time because he couldn’t decide whether he should bring a blue or yellow sweatshirt on August”

“But!-“

“A sweatshirt. August.”

Ramuda puffed, unwilling to recognize his defeat. The doctor gave him a small pat on the head, offering him his suitcase as a truce.

“Let’s go, then. Our holiday awaits, doesn’t it?”

The younger’s gloomy face suddenly lit up, and it only took the designer a small jump to stand on his feet again. He waited with their luggage outside –since he was already wearing shoes– while the doctor checked every door and window. He knew they had asked their teammates to keep an eye on their apartment just in case, but he couldn’t help but double-check before leaving.

“C’mon, Jaku! It’s gonna be night by the time we arrive!”

It was undeniable that the younger man was excited. Sure, he had the liberty to have his holidays whenever he felt like –benefits of self-employment–, but going on vacation together felt… different. It felt better, just like the old Kuujaku Posse days. It wasn’t their first trip together, he knew that. The designer could never forget their training camp, after all. However, he was beyond excited: it was their first trip to the beach since he got the mastectomy. Ramuda couldn’t wait, and Jakurai was also looking forward to it.

As soon as they got everything in the car and were ready to go, the doctor started driving to their destination: Oarai Sun Beach. They were in for a ride that would be two hours long, which the designer was planning to spend between snacks and Instagram stories while his partner drove. Besides that, Ramuda had a self-imposed duty in every single one of their road trips, and that was to take pictures of the scenery and, more importantly, of his boyfriend. Jakurai wasn’t the only one fascinated by his partner; and the younger man loved to see how every single scenery and light managed to boost up his partner’s mature beauty.

The hours went by, and before they could realize it, they were already reaching their destination. The pink-haired man screamed enthusiastically as he saw the sea through the window, losing interest even on the snacks he was eagerly devouring merely 30 seconds ago. After 20 minutes or so, they arrived at the hotel, did the check-in, and rushed to the beach. Jakurai would have loved to take his time, but his partner’s actions didn’t seem to agree with his ideas.

Energetic as always, Ramuda rushed towards the sea as soon as he saw it from the seafront promenade, without caring about the sun cream nor leaving his tee somewhere that wasn’t the sand after launching it. That took Jakurai by surprise –although he should have seen that coming–, quickly finding himself running after his partner, as if he was running after a dog who had something in his mouth that he wasn’t supposed to have.

“AMEMURA-KUN! CAREFUL! THE BODY MUST ACCLIMATE SLOWLY! –“

The designer laughed at the top of his lungs, ignoring his partner’s yelling. Having fun was his top priority right now.

“Oh, shoo! Don’t be such a party pooper! The water’s warm!”

The doctor stopped at the shore, sighing. The younger man was already splashing around in the water, and there was nothing he could do against that. Oh well, at least he was happy.

“You could have waited until I had prepared everything here… Or until you had cream on”

He complained again, as he picked up the t-shirt from the sand, shaking it a little before folding and putting it inside the bag. While the designer was swimming around, the doctor started to set up their beach umbrella, as well as two chairs and a small fridge. He watched Ramuda having the time of his life, now free from the burden of having to wear swimming t-shirts and a binder under it. He could see his boyfriend jump, swim and run in the beach with a liberty he hadn’t had before; and, for him, that was enough to make the trip worth it.

The taller man took his time with the sun cream, and he headed to the water only after being sure it was absorbed. The pink-haired man didn’t hesitate to approach him, sporting a pink and white striped short swim trunk, decorated with lollipops. It was part of his new summer collection, as well as Jakurai’s: his had a light-grey and white plaid pattern and was knee-length. Although it wasn’t as colourful as Ramuda’s, it still had his touch, since it had little lilac plum blossoms around, as well as lilac laces.

Spontaneous as ever, the smaller man jumped into the doctor’s back, taking his chance to braid his hair and make said braid into a low bun. He left a kiss on his partner’s shoulder before jumping back into the water, splashing around once again.

“I wonder how many ways of braiding my hair you know”

Ramuda laughed cheerfully, swimming by Jakurai’s side as he entered the water.

“I’ve always liked to do your hair! So there’s nooo absolute way I’ll ever stop doing so!”

Jakurai stopped walking as soon as the water reached his waist, took a deep breath and submerged for a couple of seconds. Ramuda clapped and followed him to do the same, only to find out that, while that depth was acceptable for Jakurai, it covered his chest and almost his neck. The doctor tried to suppress a laugh at the scenery of his partner floating because of his short height, but in the end, the effort was in vain.

“What’s so funny?! Not everyone’s a damn tower, you know!”

Jakurai laughed again, picking the designer up and letting him sit on his shoulders.

“Then, how does it feel to be one, then?”

The pouts and complains quickly were changed by laughter, as he held tight onto his head, watching his surroundings from his privileged seat.

“It feels… weird! But it’s also funny! It’s like I could crush everyone under my feet like widdle ants!”

They both laughed at the designer’s comparisons, and after a couple of minutes, he took the freedom to launch himself back into the water from his shoulders, swimming somewhere where he could reach without problem –or, at least, stand–. Pitying him, Jakurai followed his partner and stood by his side once he found the perfect depth for himself: now the water was at Ramuda’s waist level, and barely reached Jakurai’s hip.

“That’s on you for being so tall, you know”

The doctor sighed, shaking his head.

“And there’s nothing I can do about that either, my little one”

Ramuda splashed him in response, cracking a laugh. Accompanied by that laugh, the doctor saw behind his blue eyes that he had mischief planned. Whatever it could be, he had no idea.

Like a shark ready to attack its victim, the younger man kept watching his partner closely. The doctor realized his gaze upon him, and although he was ready to counteract, he didn’t pay too much attention to it. He thought that, perhaps, Ramuda would get tired of waiting and would eventually forget whatever he had in mind ready to mess with him. However, he was wrong in thinking that, and he definitely should not have let his guard down. It is not as if he had ever had his guard up around Ramuda, after all.

As soon as the designer noticed him trying to go out of the water, he ambushed. His plan was to run towards him and throw him back into the water. Still, it was quickly thwarted by Jakurai’s height; since he just kind of stumbled against his legs on an attempt to sink him.

“OH, C’MON!”

Jakurai watched him bump against him, raising an eyebrow with curiosity. Ramuda crossed his arms with frustration, sitting in the water by his side.

“Was that your attempt at… sinking me?”

“Yes! And it didn’t work!”

The lilac-haired man laughed playfully, ruffling the younger’s wet hair.

“I’m sure you can do better than that”

Obviously, Ramuda took that personally. He got up and sat back in the shore, arming himself with patience. There, he waited until the doctor tried to leave the water again, and prepared his attack once more: this time, he charged against Jakurai’s knee pits and successfully made him fall into the water. What he didn’t plan, though, was that he would fall with him too, making a splashing mess that could have ended in broken bones if it weren’t for the doctor’s quick reflexes.

“What were you thinking now, Amemura-kun? You could have hurt yourself! What if I had fallen on top of you? Did you think we could have gotten serious bruises, or even worse?”

The designer quivered at his partner’s angry tone, lowering his head while he was being scolded. He just wanted to joke around, but ended up taking it so seriously that he didn’t really think it through. The fact that surprised the designer was that Jakurai wasn’t concerned at all about himself, but rather about him.

“I’m… I’m sorry…”

He replied in a quiet voice, looking at Jakurai with honest puppy eyes. The doctor tried to hold his ground, but Ramuda did know well his weaknesses. He clicked his tongue, sitting on the shore and placing his boyfriend on his lap.

“Are you alright? Does it hurt somewhere?”

The designer climbed onto his lap, hugging him and leaving a shy kiss on the taller-man’s lips. Jakurai replied tenderly, pressing him against himself in an embrace, as he realized it was Ramuda’s silent apology.

“Next time you’re tempted to do such a thing, at least do it where the water covers me”

Ramuda nodded, and said gesture earned him another kiss as a way of settling things up.

[arent-you-scared-lil-human]

Bølger (1)

Merman!Kae x Reader.

Words: 2,245

bølger means waves.

The first time you saw a mermaid, it was a merman, his name was Eros and he was huge, his tail longer than your entire body but he was only 15, eight years maturer than you. Since your aunt always spoke greatly about the magical creatures you supposed that all of them were kind -minus goblins, they are never kind-  each took you to the beach's sand nearing the waves. 

Eros had light blonde hair, eyes bluer than the water surrounding him, and his sharp teeth alarmed you. He looked at you up and down and wondered why a human so small was reaching him.

But he wasn't one of the nice mermen your aunt mentioned, the brave creatures that protect the oceans, he was a spoiled boy, that didn't like any other species than his own. Humans being the most he dispised.

"Why do you stare at me?"

"You pretty." Your seven-year-old speech not being very sharp to contain all the right diction.

"Yes. I'm Eros, who are you?"

"Y/N."

As the waves were almost minimal you walked further in the water to reach him, to touch his gills, or attempt to catch his hair. Eros discerned your steps and with malice in his eyes, he reached you, his stature nearly the same as yours since he had to be lowered so his tail would remain in the ocean.

"You are not afraid of me?"

"Merfolk are good creatures, they protect the oceans."

"We do, and do you know who we protect the oceans from? I mean who we fight to maintain very far away?"

Remembering the time your aunt said of some species of birds that sink in the ocean to find fishes made you thoughtful, after all in summer it was more than twenty million birds catching fishes. "Birdies."

"No, humans. Your species."

"But we protect too, I and aunty Betty clean the beaches and never toss trash in water."

"Uhu, tell me, little human, would you like to see the ocean? To see the fishes that grace it and even dolphins?"

Dolphins didn't go to the land side you lived in, and you only ever saw dolphins on movies or documentaries.

"Dolphins?!"

He nodded so you jumped excited, ready to see the fishes and luckily the dolphins. 

But Eros' idea was contrary, humans were nothing else than a virus slaughtering everything they reached, he knew by how much his grandfather said, that in a distant time ago the ocean was astonishing. It didn't have fallen boats, trash, sewers, nor industries discharging electronic garbage, much less the pharmaceutical ones pouring tons of medications in the water. So getting freed of a stupid human would maybe avoid a little bit more of destruction.

Extending his hand you held it and he pulled you with him a bit further in the water, your feet missed the sand's ground and you moved your little legs to manage to have air. Eros chortled before taking your body and pulling you down in the water, startled by the agile gesture you cracked your lips to gasp and lamented it when water began to fill your mouth.

He swam into the ocean making the beach farther from your, impossible, reach. Your small lungs were on fire when Eros approached a few of his friends, there stood Melin, Jaxi, and Kae. They were puzzled to see a human cub and swam up to the surface to reach the rocks near the mountains.

Eros rolled his eyes but accompanied them to reveal them his... toy.

"What do you think you are doing?" Kae was the first to speak up.

"This was stupid enough to swim alone in the beach over Walrey Coast, it even came to me telling tales." The mermen stared at your unconscious body.

"You cannot kill humans, you know that." Jaxi pointed and Eros rolled his eyes.

"What difference does it make? Our parents are always complaining about   them!"

Melin was quiet but shot Eros a look, it was forbidden to hurt humans unless they hurt you. 

And what a human cub would have done alone to hurt Eros? Since all of them were reaching puberty and were becoming stronger and faster? "Eros, you can't."

"Why is everyone bothering me with this? You know what. Done." He unfolded his arms and your body started to float backward in the water, Jaxi pulled you delicately to his chest and touched your neck before looking at Kae and giving a small nod signally that, even if weak, you still had a pulse. "You guys aren't considering of-"

"Killing an innocent cub is wrong, you know that, doesn't matter the species." Kae pointed.

Melin nodded and faced the rocks before glancing at Jaxi and Kae. "We can try to put the water out. It might not be different from saving a sea bear, we only have to press the stomach for them to spit the water."

Eros swam to Jaxi's side and pulled your moveless arm. "It is mine and will be killed and exhibited to our community." He closed his fist around your arm which made his nails pierce through your cold skin.

"She won't!" Kae affirmed and even Melin could spot a protective tone on his voice. "You'll go back and tell Ecthelion what happened, and that me, Jaxi and Melin are trying to save a cub that you tried to hurt."

Biting his tongue Eros looked at his three cousins before diving in the water and going to tell the colony elder. Kae gazed at the injuries and leaned to suck the blood of your wounds before it could touch the water and call any shark.

Kae retrieved his lips and placed his hand over -the less bleeding- wounds and told Jaxi to swim so they would follow.

Under the moonlight, Kae jumped in the rocks and made sure to only touch the polished parts so it wouldn't hurt his tail. Jaxi lifted you so Kae pulled you to his chest, and since you were smaller it was easier for him to fit you on his lap. Jaxi accompanied Kae by jumping in the rocks and touched your face trying to decipher if your color was a light purple or not. Melin dive in the sea to find some seaweed to place on your nails' cuts. It helped them with wounds so maybe it would help you too.

"Don't die now, human cub." Kae spoke and Jaxi touched your shirt taking it off to expose your belly, he ran his hand over the skin and looked at Kae. Human anatomy was different than polar bears.

Jaxi pressed and it only seemed to hurt you. "Here, hold her."

"Her?"

"It looks like a female right?" Kae asked.

"All of them seem the same when they are cubs."

Jaxi held your head on his lap while Kae extended your legs. He leaned and placed his hands over your chest and started to pump. 

He looked at Jaxi and they analyzed the lack of gills. "They breath only through the nose." Taking a deep breath and letting an annoying sigh Jaxi cursed Ers under is breath.

Kae paid attention in the way the air left Jaxi's mouth and had an idea. "The mouth."

"What?"

Kae leaned to touch your lips with his and moved his hand carefully to open your lower lip. Realizing it was useless he reached your nose pressing it together and tried to suck the water out of you. Jaxi was surprised by the gesture but didn't understand how that would possibly work.

Getting his hands back at your chest he started to press and kept doing the gesture. "That won't take the water out. They won't-"

Spilling water out of your mouth you coughed with the burning feeling in your throat. Opening your eyes you gazed at the creatures touching you and you yelled completely scared. Kae moved his head by the loud sound but Jaxi shushed you. "We will not hurt."

Crying you started to try to get up. "You will. He did."

Kae sighed seeing that you remembered Eros, you winced and Kae looked up to see you were gazing at the arm's wounds caused by Eros' nails.

Kae placed his hand on your forehead and almost whimpered when you cried completely scared of him. "Sleep." He whispered and you dozed off.

Some merfolk were blessed with gifts, Kae happened to be one of them.

Melin appeared in the water surface by Jaxi's side and lifted some seaweed in his hands so Jaxi could place it on the cuts.

"They didn't wake up?" Melin asked and Kae stole two seaweeds and rolled it around your arm.

"She did but its too scared to hear us." Kae explained, doing his best to prevent his nails to hurt you, again.

Melin gave Jaxi a look and shared a thought when they realized Kae was too worried about your wounds and cold body.

"Kae, we should take them back-"

"Her." Kae corrected.

"Right, take her back. She is too cold and will die here."

Kae looked at them and back at you a couple of times before nodding, but before he could move your body to Melin's arms so he and Jaxi could get into the water and take you to your land, someone broke in the surface.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ecthelion spoke and the young mermen looked at the eldest from their village.

"Eros explained to you?"

"Yes, and i want to know why this human cub is still here."

"Eros hurt her, pierced her skin with his nails and we tried to prevent the blood to call the sharks."

The wise creature understood their point and moved his hand so Kae could place you in Melin's arms and reach him.

They did so and while Melin swam to Ecthelion's reach, Kae and Jaxi jumped in the water.

Ecthelion tasked as he felt your body temperature. He touched your forehead and mumbled ancient words.

Feeling protective of you and afraid that Ecthelion was sacrificing you, Kae reached your body and touched your forehead, prevent that the magic could reach your skin before touching his own. Melin and Jaxi felt anxious about the gest, Kae was the more peaceful of the cousins and the way he was intervening in something that the Ecthelion was doing was unusual.

"You will kill her?"

Gazing at Kae's hand and protective stance, he retrieved his hand and checked your body temperature again. "No, i am making her forget."

"Why? There are thousands of humans that know about us. She isn't like those thieves that tried to sell us."

Kae was decided, all of them could see that. "I know, but she was hurt by us. What do you think it'll happen when she tells her family about it? Or what her people will do if she tells them that merfolk are getting young children and killing them for fun?"

Jaxi cursed Eros under his breath. "They won't think this, it was only Eros that hurt her, we helped." Jaxi explained.

"She is a cub, she won't be able to recognize the difference. For our sake and hers, give me space." Melin touched Kae's shoulder and the young merman swam away allowing Ecthelion to work in your memories.

Seeing a light blue smoke touched your forehead, the old merman retrieved his hand and called the boys to hold you. "Take her home, I'll tell in the docks across there what happened, so Tony can find her and take her to their healers. Go, she doesn't have much time." Kae pulled your body to his and watched as Ecthelion dive in to warn his human friend that lived in the docks about you.

Jaxi touched your arm, which got Kae's attention. "Come on, she doesn't have much time."

Accepting the departure Kae dive in and they swam fastly till they reached Walrey Coast.

There Kae went further he could reach, trying to place you in the dry sand, but his tail would get hurt if he pressed it to harshly so he extended his hand and neared you in the wet sand, the waves still touched it but your nose was safe from water and by the car lights in the distance, he knew your kind was coming to reach you.

He looked behind his shoulders and saw Melin and Jaxi farther and since their eyes weren't focused on him, he took that advantage to kiss your forehead. "Bye, little human. I hope Neptune will keep you safe, and if I'm lucky enough, we will see each other again."

A car stopped and a man with a uniform came running, Kae turned back and swam before they could see him. 

In a distance, he reached the surface and watched as they pulled you out of the water, a small golden ring falling from your finger, Kae felt sad that you lost such pretty thing, a cloth was placed around you and the humans ran away to save your life.

Finally, when the car left Kae had to swim in his previous spot where he have left you to search for the ring, duo his better vision it didn't take too long for him to find it.

Kae held the small thing that only served in his pinky. He held the golden bijou and went home.

Sad that you forgot about him, he hopes Neptune will hear his prayers and that he will find you again.

One day.

                        🧜🏻‍♂️

[happyandticklish]

New Beginnings

Notes: For the request by @yellowbakyura. I’m not super familiar with this ship, hence why this took so goddamn long, but I like the result! It was super interesting to write their dynamic! Thanks for sending in the request and I hope you enjoy! ^^

Summary: Masaomi tries to clear his mind and ends up running into an old friend. 

Walking the city at night was a habit Masaomi had fallen into semi-accidentally. At first, it had been to meet up with Erika and Walker, who were always up to something, regardless the time of day. After a while, he continued going out even if it was without them, enjoying the way the world quieted once the sun fell. Though Ikebukuro was never truly silent, people bustling about the city with tasks of business and pleasure at all hours of the day, there was a kind of unity that the night brought.

It was nice to know that no matter how much time had passed, Ikebukuro was Ikebukuro. A city full of people making connections and gaining heartbreaks, where each moment could be an adventure if you let it. He had always loved that chaotic atmosphere, even now, years later. It was difficult to believe he had graduated just last year. Soon, he would be off to university, an exciting new life ahead of him.

Mikado had already left for home, and Anri was off abroad, her grades landing her a soaring success of scholarships. Eventually, only Masaomi was left. He still hadn’t decided where he was going, and the clock only seemed to tick faster as he struggled to decide. So he had decided to fall back onto an old tradition to help clear his mind.

That night, he strolled around Central Park, his hands interlocked behind his head. He took a seat by the fountain, kicking his legs up and curling them under himself. Around him were a variety of couples conversing under the cover of darkness, as well as several rambunctious teenagers joking and shoving each other perilously close to the water.

Masaomi sighed, leaning back on the cold foundation, a grateful relief from the heat of summer. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax.

“You know, it’s not safe to leave yourself so vulnerable in such a dangerous city. Who knows what kind of creeps you could run into?”

Masaomi’s eyes snapped open, his heart slamming against his chest at the familiar voice. Izaya Orihara stood on the ledge of the fountain behind him, peering down into his face with that serene, cat-like smile of his. It managed to somehow be both pleasant and menacing at the same time.

“The only creep I have to worry about is you,” Masaomi responded dryly, pretending like the other’s presence hadn’t just sent him into cardiac arrest.

“You wound me.” Izaya’s hands were shoved into his pockets, and Masaomi briefly wondered how he could be wearing something like that with the current weather. “I thought you considered me a friend.”

“I have friends. They don’t insist on treating my life like it’s some amusing game.”

“But isn’t that all life is? A game without rules, where winning can sometimes be the same thing as losing. It’s all about perspective, my dear Ma-sa-o-mi!”

“Don’t say my name like that—it’s weird.”

Masaomi sighed. Of all the people to run into, why did it have to be him? Right now he needed clarity, and for as long as he’d known him, Izaya had always provided the opposite of that. He had never met a single more confusing or frustrating individual as the man peering curiously down at him now. He could feel the age-old excitement buzzing in his limbs despite this. Izaya meant danger and risks, dancing through life on a dagger’s edge. It was addicting and terrifying all at once, a contradiction Masaomi had never been able to sort out inside himself.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Izaya asked, taking a seat besides the other. His legs were tucked tightly underneath himself, far away from risk of falling in the fountain. Masaomi smirked, just slightly. “Shouldn’t you be spending your time with you friends, during these last days of freedom?”

“And what about you?” Masaomi shot back defensively. “You’re alone too, you know.”

“I’m never alone,” Izaya corrected, tossing an affectionate glance at the citizens enjoying the park, unaware of the shark amongst their midst. “I have all of humanity to entertain me. I find they make much better company than friends. After all, it’s impossible to know who others truly are when you constantly endeavor to see the best in them.”

Masaomi narrowed his eyes. Typical cryptic bastard. Still, tonight he found he didn’t mind it. It was a comfort to hear his nonsensical poetry; it helped to drown out the current thoughts plaguing his mind. “That’s something someone with no friends would say.”

“How cruel,” Izaya intoned, smirking lightly. “I forgot about that attitude of yours. You should work on that, if you want people to like you. Lighten up, you know?”

“People do like me—ah, hey!” He jerked back as Izaya poked him suddenly, a playful, harmless jab. The latter’s eyes widened as he registered the extreme reaction. “What was that for?”

“Interesting,” Izaya mused, poking him again. Masaomi drew his knees up protectively, leaning away from the other. “I never knew you were ticklish.”

“I’m not,” Masaomi said immediately. He didn’t like the way Izaya was looking at him, like a predator that had just found its prey. It made his insides squirm, not unpleasantly. Still, he knew this game. Give Izaya an inch and he’d take a full three miles before he gave up. He forget how it was to have those eyes, slanted and inquisitive, targeted at him. “And who just goes around poking people?”

“Lying will get you nowhere.” Izaya was undeterred by the other’s protective position, merely grabbing his leg instead. “Your denials only make me more sure of my assumption.”

“Wha—hey!” Masaomi flailed, just narrowly catching himself and avoiding falling in the fountain. He glared at the other, attempting to jerk his leg back, but found the other’s hold stronger than he originally thought. It was easy to forget how strong Izaya could be when he was so often in comparison to Shizuo. “What are you doing?!”

“Proving a point,” Izaya replied simply, sliding off his shoe like it was nothing and dropping it besides them on the ground. “This will provide ample payback for your earlier comment, don’t you agree? Now, where to start?”

Masaomi clamped his mouth shut when Izaya dragged a lone finger up his sole, his toes curling instinctively. He cursed himself for the reaction, giving himself away before they’d hardly started. It was strange how little defense his socks gave him as Izaya gently scratched the area with a precision that was altogether unfair.

“H-Hnrgh,” Masaomi grunted, attempting to hold back the giggles building in his throat. “I-Izaya!”

“I never realized you were so sensitive!” Izaya marveled, adding more fingers into the mix that crawled up his soles teasingly. Masaomi yelped, jerking hard on his trapped leg. Goosebumps prickled down his arms, as though his foot had a direct link to the rest of the nerve endings in his body. “You should’ve told me earlier—I’ve been missing out on all the fun.”

“T-This ihis exactly w-why, I—ah—heh, d-dihidn’t tell you!” Masaomi covered his face, hoping to hide the blush spreading rapidly across his features. “Izaya!” he squawked suddenly when fingernails skittered teasingly under his toes. “Thahat tihihickles!”

“Well, I should hope so,” Izaya said, amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced back at the other. “I am tickling you after all.”

Masaomi grinned, his heart fluttering strangely in his chest. “S-Shuhuhut uhuhup!”

“And why should I do that when you give such wonderful reactions whenever I do the opposite?”

This was ridiculous. Masaomi was being ridiculous. After all these years, and still, Izaya knew all the best ways to get under his skin. Old memories were cropping up of hands clapping down firmly on his shoulder, a teasing grin, and those eyes that shot right through you until you couldn’t think anymore.

Masaomi cursed himself internally. He was older now. Smarter. A different person. He was supposed to be preparing for the next stage in his life, choosing who he wanted to represent as a living creature in the vast cosmos, and yet, all he could think about was some stupid high school crush.

People were staring, but not that much. It wasn’t unusual to see strange things in Ikebukuro. He could hear the name Izaya Orihara floating around with notes of surprise, but no one intervened. Masaomi was almost glad for it. It would have been far too embarrassing to have a stranger approach him like this, giggling and squirming like a fool over tickling, of all things.

“What’s wrong? Nothing to say?” He was loving this. The goddamn bastard was soaking this up and Masaomi was going to kill him right after he stopped getting the urge to tackle him to the ground and kiss him until Izaya was just as breathless as him. “You’re usually so talkative. Could it be that you’re too ticklish to withstand something as simple as this? I mean, it’s almost funny—I’m hardly touching you.”

Masaomi squeaked, falling backwards against the marble. “Nahahaha, y-yohohou—fuhuhuhuck!”

“Maybe you like it,” Izaya guessed cheerfully. Masaomi’s toes appeared to be a particularly bad spot, and so he concentrated his efforts there, prying them back with one hand to get better access. Masaomi’s laughter went up several octaves at the new technique, his squirming growing more desperate. “That must be it. Little Masaomi likes to be tickled and he can’t admit it, so he resorts to saying nothing instead, is that it?”

“Nahahahat lihihihittle!” Masaomi protested, his face growing redder if that was even possible. Whether it was because of Izaya’s teasing words or the truth behind them, he couldn’t say. Possibly both.

“Oh? That’s not a denial, you know. Well, if you really do like this, I suppose my only option is to keep going. But these socks are really getting in the way, don’t you think?” Izaya frowned, clucking his tongue in disappointment. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”

Masaomi’s breath hitched when he felt Izaya’s fingers slipping under his sock, nails grazing the skin teasingly as he pulled it off. He let out a frankly embarrassing squeak, and before he could help himself instinct took over. His free foot connected with Izaya’s back, startling him into letting go. However, Masaomi had underestimated the strength he had put into the kick, and they both watched in surprise as Izaya went tumbling into the fountain with a strangled yelp.

Masaomi took a deep breath, still giggling slightly as he sat up. He rubbed his foot against the fountain’s edge, trying to relieve himself of the phantom tickles running through his nervous system. Once he had collected himself slightly, he glanced over at the other only to almost lose it all over again at the sight.

Izaya sat blinking in surprise, his pants soaked through and his jacket floating besides him. His hair fell into his eyes, pasted there by the water. Any semblance of dignity he had held before was gone now. He noticed Masaomi’s face and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

“I thought you wanted me to laugh?” Masaomi shot back, unable to help his delighted grin. To see the great Izaya Orihara in such a manner, drenched and shell-shocked after falling on his ass, was something he had never thought he would witness, though he was immensely glad he had.

Izaya glared at him, his cheeks dusted a faint shade of pink. “You are an insufferable brat.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, wouldn’t you say?”

“You think you’re funny.”

“I’m hilarious.”

Izaya stared as a hand was outstretched towards him, Masaomi’s friendly features on the other side. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you out, obviously,” Masaomi replied, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, just take it. I don’t bite.”

Izaya watched him suspiciously for a moment, before reluctantly accepting his hand. Masaomi pulled him out, the other’s pants sloshing comically as he stood up. Izaya sat down, shedding his jacket in disgust as he stared at the dripping mess. “It’s ruined.”

“It’s just water.”

“You weren’t the one that fell in the fountain.”

“It was an accident! Besides, you were the one tickling me!”

“It’s not my fault you’re that ticklish.”

Masaomi flushed. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Fine.”

Masaomi did not remember consciously deciding to lean over and kiss the other, only that once he had it was everything he had imagined it to be. Izaya’s lips were soft, and they parted under Masaomi’s in surprise. For a moment, everything was wonderful.

And then Masaomi opened his eyes and noticed Izaya’s shocked expression.

Shit.

Masaomi jerked back, flailing awkwardly in his attempt to slide off the fountain. “I’m sorry! That was weird! I’m weird. Fuck. I don’t know why I did that. I’m just gonna… go… now… yeah.” He nodded furiously, snatching up his shoe and whirling around, not even bothering to put it on before he ran off.

His heart felt like it was gonna explode outside of his chest, and he couldn’t decide between imploding with joy or panic. Going to the park was supposed to help clear his mind, and it was anything but clear now. Why did he decide to do that? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Several yards away, Izaya sat staring after him, his fingers pressed delicately against the spot where Masaomi’s lips had been a moment before.

He smiled softly.

[devil-in-those-eyes]

Duchess of the Kooks Part2 JJ Maybank

Hi guys! Wow, I’m really thankful for you guys and the love of this imagine. Let me know if you’d like to be in the taglist. I hope you guys like this part!

Part 1!

Taglist: @lovelymaybankk @hyuckiesof @outerbanks123 @heimdoodle

Summery: End of ep. 4, beginning of ep. 5. Y/N’s reaction to JJ taking the fall for Pope might have some consequences.

A/N: I know jackshit about the law and bail and all that, so please just go with it if I’m wrong. ALSO, do you guys know anyone that is okay with gifs being used with credit being said? If not, totally fine, just a question :)

~~

           The drive was silent. You dropped Kiara off at her house first and then Pope and JJ. JJ was sitting in the front seat with you while Pope got out of the car, “Man, I’ll see you inside.”

           “Right behind you,” JJ answered as you slowly looked at him.

           “Are you sure you’re okay?” You whispered, taking in the busted lip. JJ touched his thumb to the swollen skin, he had gotten rid of the blood on the sleeve of his shirt and continuously moved his hat on his head.

           “Yeah, nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” he grumbled, turning his eyes onto you. For the second time tonight, there wasn’t any disgust when he looked at you, he just looked… unsure. “Thanks for the uh…”

           “Sure,” you breathed, nodding and turning your eyes away.

           “And for uh, jumping on Rafe and trying to stop him,” he said, his voice sounding small and awkward. He probably wasn’t used to thanking people, let alone you.

           “Who else is gonna be a dick to me?” You shrugged, earning a smirk from him and this time, it melted the butterflies with red wings.

           “You sure you’re okay? Kelce threw you pretty hard.”

           Actually, you had a pretty big headache but him seeing you at a weak point wasn’t an option, he was still JJ. So you nodded and breathed, “all good.”

           JJ pressed his lips together and nodded, popping the door open. “Night, Y/N.”

           “Night,” you said before he shut the drove and drove home.

           You didn’t want to go home because there was a chance that Topper would be there, but when you saw your uncle’s rental car you forgot how much of a jackass your brother was and rushed inside. The one person who didnt make you feel alone was sitting in your kitchen, drinking a beer and eating a piece of pie.

           “Uncle Mac!” you exclaimed.

           Uncle Mac stood up with an easy going grin on his face. “My favorite niece!” he exclaimed, catching you as you jumped into his arms, kissing your cheek.

           Catching up with Uncle Mac was almost as easy as talking to Kiara. He never made you feel stupid whenever you told him stories, you could talk to him a lot easier than your mom and you didn’t bother giving your dad the time of day.

           You could listen to Uncle Mac talk about Hawaii for hours. He was expressive, using his hands when he talked about the waves he caught every morning. You felt the apprehension of his stories when he talked about seeing sharks and sting rays. You felt happiness when he talked about the life he led with his restaurant that was a tourist destination. You could always see it in his pretty eyes, the true happiness and freedom he had. He was loaded by last name, but lived in a little shack by the beach, like John B. He never wanted to use his trust fund money. He was exactly who you wanted to grow up to be.

           The next day you walked into the place Pope’s dad owned and greeted him with an easy smile. He instantly returned it, “Y/N, is there something your family needs?”

           “No, sir, I was actually wondering if Kie and the others were here.” You smiled.

           Mr. Heyward smiled and nodded his head to go inside. When you walked in a few people were looking around by Kiara was standing with Pope behind the register, working, while JJ sat on the other, throwing an orange around.

           JJ was the first to see you and was back to his sarcastic ways, “Well, well, Little Topper.”

           You nearly growled at him, “Is your brain that small that you can’t remember a simple name?”

           “Why bother?” he asked, tilting his head at you. “Not like you’re gonna stick around long enough.”

           You didn’t expect him to change over night, but you did expect a little something different since you did throw yourself in the line of fire for him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

           “Play nice, for the love of god.” Kiara groaned before handing change back to the customer. “have a good day, Ms. Fitch.”

           You faced her, “I was coming to see if you guys wanted to catch waves, but clearly not.”

           “Jesus, don’t get your panties in a twist, it was a joke.” JJ said. Kiara stared at him, giving him a glare and I even saw Pope stop what he was doing to stare at him. “What?”

           Kiara rolled her eyes and looked at you, “Pope’s almost done then we can head out?”

           “Sure,” you breathed, nodding your head. “Pope, what can I help with?”

           “Wanna organize the oranges? Someone nearly knocked them over.” Pope said, tossing his eyes quickly over to JJ.

           You smiled and made your way over to the stand. You started fixing them as JJ popped off of the counter and turned to face you, leaning his elbows on the counter. “How’s home life? You see your big bro?” JJ asked.

           Surprisingly, no you didn’t see him last night. When you woke up this morning he was still sleeping. You quickly showered and rushed on over here before he woke up and you had to deal with him. You plucked the orange from JJ’s fingers and popped your P, “Nope.”

           “Which reminds me, how did you know about it?” JJ asked, moving a little closer against the counter.

           You sighed, looking up briefly to see Kiara watching you two over her shoulder. “I heard Rafe talking about beating up Pope, then saw the guy pulling his boat out of the water.”

           You felt JJ’s eyes on you, so you looked back at him and raised your eyebrows. “By the way, whoever came up with that… freaking brilliant. My mom was so pissed off.”

           A hint of a smile touched his face. “It was all him, I think I’m rubbing off.”

           You didn’t necessarily think that was a good thing but you kept your mouth shut anyways. For the next hour or so you and Kiara helped out Pope and his dad while JJ just floated around and continued to be his unhelpful self, he cracked jokes and made you guys laugh. You tried keeping your amusement to a minimum but you couldn’t help it, he may piss you off to no end but he was still attractive when he smiled, despite having a busted lip.

“I can’t believe that happened last night.” Pope said quietly as you helped out Kiara behind the register, bagging somethings the customer just bought.

           You sighed. Topper really did go too far last night. “Don’t let it get in your head, three of them and two of us,” JJ said as he rested against the wall. “That’s some typical kook shit right there.”

           Even you couldn’t deny that, so you nodded a long with Kiara as she said, “hell, yeah.”

           “What was your thought process, using your head?” JJ asked Pope.

           You bit back a smile and looked at Pope. “By the way, you head butting my brother is my favorite thing that’s ever happened.”

           Pope fought a smile and rolled his eyes at you. “I don’t know, man, I just kind of acted off instinct. I was a corner animal.”

           “Hey, Pope, someone here to see you.” Mr. Heyward said, coming in from the back door, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

           Deputy Shoupe walked around the corner and you nearly dropped the apple you were holding. “Evening officer,” Pope said, his voice slightly wavering.

Deputy Shoupe didn’t hesitate. “I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.” Shoupe handed Pope’s dad the warrant and my face paled, knowing that this had everything to do with my brother. As Shoupe walked towards Pope, telling him to keep his hands where he can see them, Pope looked over your head to JJ with wide eyes.

           “Young lady, out of my way.” Deputy said to you and Kiara. Your feet were glued to the floor so the deputy gave you a light push, and you felt JJ’s hot hand touch your lower back.

           “Whoa, Shoupe, what did he do?”

           “It says in the arrest warrant.”

           “So, you’re arresting him?” Kiara asked him.

           “Oh, my god.” You whispered as the deputy put cuffs on Pope.

           Commotion picked up in the place as customers backed into the walls. Kiara was talking loudly and Mr. Heyward was continually asking what happened. JJ grabbed your forearm and moved you behind him so he stepped towards the deputy. “What’s the evidence?”

           “Shoupe, are you listening?”

           The deputy started giving Pope his rights and started walking him out from behind the counter. It was all a huge mess. How did they even know that it was really Pope? Sure Topper would have told him, but they couldn’t do it just a limb and without any actual hard evidence. Kiara followed the deputy and you pushed past JJ, twisting out of his grip to keep you out of the way.

           “Deputy, you don’t understand what really happened.” You called out.

           “I understand plenty, Ms. Thornton.”

           “Pope, don’t say anything!” Mr. Heyward said above you as JJ asked how much did the kooks pay him.

           “Sir, just let him go. Pope did nothing wrong!” You exclaimed as you got outside, Pope hadn’t even uttered a word. JJ continued to get agitated so Mr. Heyward told him to stay back, because he could make the situation worse.

           “So, what, you’re just going to arrest him without hearing him out?” Kiara asked, “He’s seventeen!”

           “My brother and Rafe Cameron beat his face in, you should be looking at them for battery and assault!” You blurted out as Mr. Heyward touched you forearm.

           “It wasn’t him!” JJ yelled. Both your and Kiara’s heads snapped to look at JJ as he stood a few feet away, if anymore blood was left in your head, it all drained completely out. No, no, no. “It was me.”

           JJ started walking slowly towards Pope and the deputy, “He tried to talk me out of it, but I was mad because he’d just been beaten up. I was so sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit.” He stared at Pope, “I can’t let you take the blame for something I did.”

           This had all been taken way too far.  If anyone needed to be put in jail, it was your brother for trying to drown John B and then Rafe Cameron for beating up Pope. Had anyone done anything then, these two boys wouldn’t be arrested.

           “You’ve got too much to lose, Pope.”

           “JJ, what’re you doing?” Pope hissed.

           “I’m telling the truth, for once. I’m telling the god damn truth.” JJ smirked sadly. “I took his old man’s boat, too.”

           “What the hell?” Mr. Heyward asked.

           “JJ,” you started, shaking your head and feeling a lump form in your throat.

           JJ turned his eyes onto you. They were sad, you could see the slight quiver in his lip. But you could also see that he was really going to do this. “Let it go, Y/N.” he said softly.

           “JJ, I can’t,”

           “Shut up, Pope.” JJ cut him off, looking away from you and at his best friend. JJ looked at the deputy, “he’s a good kid. You know where I’m from.”

           “Yeah,” the deputy said softly.

           “This was all me.”

           The deputy looked at Pope, “That’s the whole truth.”

           I started shaking my head but Kiara rushed around and grabbed my hand. JJ spoke out, “Whole truth, swear to God.”

           “I know what you think, damn it, I’m asking Pope.” The deputy said loudly.

           I didn’t realize how fast my heart was beating inside my chest until now. It was pounding so hard that I felt like my whole body was moving along with it. Silence filled us as we all waited to see if Pope would go along with JJ’s lie.

           Pope lowered his eyes from JJ, “Yeah, that about covers it.”

           The deputy sighed and took the cuffs off Pope. You kept my eyes on JJ as he turned to face Kiara and you, putting his hands behind his back. Kiara shook her head slowly and JJ finally turned his eyes onto you. You hadn’t done anything wrong but you blamed yourself, because of your last name. Because it was Topper.

           You stepped towards him, not knowing what you’d say but you couldn’t stop yourself. Don’t. JJ mouthed and your heart dropped. As the deputy read him his rights, he mouthed it’ll be okay to Kiara and you.

           You all watched as the deputy put JJ in the back seat and slammed the door. Pure shock filled your body, was this really happening? After the deputy drove away, Pope finally lost his cool and threw his hat onto the ground, releasing a loud curse before running away.

           Kiara let go of your hand and followed after him. You stayed where you were, watching the car slowly drive away. This was all your family’s fault. You didn’t have any cameras on your dock, but our neighbors did. Couldn’t this have been settled some other way? Through insurance instead of pressing charges? Was ruining JJ’s life really that worth it to your mom, because it was ultimately her decision, because she was still paying for the boat.

           With shaking hands you found your phone and dialed the only person you could think of.

           “I need help.” You whispered.

           Over an hour later you paced outside of the police station on Figure Eight, your phone heavy in your hand. You hadn’t told Kiara where you run off too because she was too busy dealing with keeping Pope from losing grip on his sanity, while also trying to explain to Mr. Heyward what exactly happened.

           “Y/N!” You turned at the sound of the voice. “Kiddo, what happened, are you okay?”

           “Uncle Mac, I need your help.” You said. You had calmed a bit within the last hour, but you were still upset. Your uncle touched your shoulders and kept you steady, you started to stutter, unsure of where to start so you stopped and clamped your mouth shut.

           Your uncle sighed, “I can’t help unless you give me the whole story, kid.”

           You closed your eyes and spewed everything. You started with the fight with Topper and John B, going to when Topper and Rafe jumped Pope, which led to sinking Topper’s boat. You confessed to the fight at the movie night, even telling him how Topper nearly choked Pope to death, and finally got to JJ being arrested.

           “Mac, JJ can’t go down for this.” You begged, shaking your head.

           “Y/N…” Mac sighed, dropping his hands. “You want me to pay for his bail?”

           “Just help him out,” you pleaded. “This is my brother’s fault and he won’t get anything for assaulting them!”

           Mac sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know I got money lying around, but paying someone else’s bail? Y/N, I’d bail you out in a heartbeat, but this kid? He’s a stranger.”

           “Topper nearly killed Pope,” you whispered. “He nearly drowned John B. It’s the least our family can do…”

           Mac’s jaw tightened. You knew you were asking a lot of him, it was almost impossible but you knew that if anyone could do this, it would be your uncle. In your head, it was the right thing to do.

           Mac didn’t say another word, he just walked past you and headed into the police department. Your heart was back to racing as you followed after him. You stood to the side, trying to breathe out in relief as Mac said he was here to bail out JJ Maybank.

           “Are you his guardian?” The officer asked.

           “Does it really matter, Abbie?” Mac grinned, wearing a charming smile.

           The officer, or Abbie, ignored the flush to her cheeks and glanced around. It took a few seconds of your uncle charming the officer, but in the end she gave in and told him they would grab JJ. The bail out for JJ was just under a grand and hearing the amount made your heart stop, you could see the annoyance fill in your uncle’s body because he was trying to clean up your family’s last name.

           JJ was brought out and his eyes widened as he saw you. You turned your eyes back onto your uncle as he filled out a check while the officer gave a speech about JJ’s hearing in two weeks, if JJ failed to show up, the bail would be forfeited. The restitution, to cover the damage done to Topper’s boat, would be an average of three estimates.

           Mac sighed, “There isn’t a chance I could pay for the kids restitution now, is there? Forget the whole hearing?”

           I bit the inside of my cheek as the officer shook her head, “sadly, no.”

           “Sign here, please.” The officer said. Mac did as told before turning towards JJ and jerked his head towards the door.

           You kept your eyes downward as JJ passed you and whispered, “the fuck did you do.”

           Mac walked out after you and you instantly started apologizing. “Mac, I’ll pay you back.”

           “$700 bail out, Y/N?” Mac asked, his cheeks pink.

           “I didn’t know!” You promised. “It was Topper’s fault, I needed help, I’ll pay you back.”

           “Sir, I,”

          ��Mac turned towards JJ, taking both of you in. Mac sighed and looked away from JJ and to you, “you don’t need to pay me back. But you,” he pointed to JJ, “You better show up to that hearing.”

           You lowered your head as JJ agreed. “Of course, sir. I, uh, thank you.”

           Mac nodded once and pointed to your car, “Home. Now.”

           You turned your head, to look back at JJ, trying to offer a smile but couldn’t muster it. You stepped away and JJ reached out, touching your forearm and turning you back into his chest. “Why?” he whispered.

           The lump in your throat grew as you stared up at him. Your lip quivered, “I don’t know. I just couldn’t…”

           Some asshole peeled into the side walk. “Y/N, now.” Your uncle called out.

           Unsure of what to say, or do, JJ just stared down at you. Both of you shocked by what you just did. His hand slowly loosened his grip as he looked over your head and at the guy that got out of his truck. The softness in his eyes went hard and you turned to see an older man glaring at him. Realizing this was his dad, you quickly walked away and headed to your jeep, following your uncle home. You knew you were going to get an earful and you didn’t want to leave JJ, but you had too.

[johobi]

The Devil In His Details

Word count: 9.2k

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drug mentions, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), assplay, prostate milking, edging

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686617

A/N: So this was supposed to be 1k words long for an anon that requested bad boy!Jimin in a drabble prompt game. Clearly that didn’t happen. I hope you enjoy it more than I did editing lkfjwalkjf.

Evil comes in many forms. In this instance, it’s a 5′8″ pretty-boy with an even prettier dick. And you’re the form you want him to come in.

Park Jimin.

A slender, regal nose. Two sly eyes that mellow with laughter. A white smile with just the one, imperfect tooth. Cheeks you'd find on a cherub's face, but a jawline hewn with the devil's input.

Everything about his face is an infuriating dichotomy of soft and sharp. And, God, his lips. Full, unfairly alluring, and begging to be kissed. But this is not a man who does much of that. Begging, that is. Kissing? Oh, he does a lot of that. It doesn't extend to you, though, no matter how much you wish it did.

Jimin is the object of your latest fixation. Well. You may say latest, but in reality you've been harbouring something hot and nasty for this guy for most of the academic year. To the faces of your friends, you blame the heartbreak inflicted by your ex-boyfriend. The thing is, you've been over him for months. Without that as a plausible explanation for your misguided crush, though, you have little to offer in substitution. Jimin isn't the type of guy any sensible, law-abiding girl should be cranking her Rabbit up for. Sure, he's so beautiful that his face can cleanse troubled minds. But he’s flying so many red flags it's like swimming in shark-infested waters.

He manspreads across from you in the campus square, leather jacket and black jeans lacquering his body and a cigarette dwindling limply between his lips. A smile occupies his mouth and eyes, the latter until they're mere, charming slits. You find yourself smiling, too. Oh, God. Get yourself together, ____. Fucking infatuated idiot.

You should know better. Jimin is aposematic with his lurid, magenta hair. He's a beacon of rebellion amidst the drab of campus conformation. And, yeah, maybe he looks cool because of that.

But he’s nothing but trouble.

A criminal.

You don't know the extent of his many and varied illegal activities, but you do know that you'd be an idiot to ever involve yourself with him. The lesser of his crimes begin with him not even being enrolled at the very university he utilises as his base of operations. And nor is he shooed away for his overt disregard for campus rules - and, generally, the law - because security lives snugly in his weed-stuffed back pocket. Yep, he's a dealer. Street racer. Brawler. You don't know how many times you've been torn from sleep by his gang's maniacal laughter as they rough up a rival, less attractive one.

He's also a heartbreaker.

And as ridiculous as it is, that's the thing that gives you most reason for pause. Not the drug-peddling, not the violence, but because you're in so deep you want to be sharkbitten. Consumed, bone for bone.

But he never looks your way. Ever. You're not so much a Plain Jane, you don't think, but desperately shy. Especially where your heart's involved. It forgets its function when confronted with someone you like. You take care of your appearance. You've had a few, long-term boyfriends. But whenever you're dumped back at Square One: Single, you're as hopeless in romance as you are in cooking. And all the cuisine you can conjure involves a microwave.

Scenarios of seduction circulate your mind as you ogle him from afar, your thoroughly bitten lip again between your teeth. If only you possessed the confidence your best friend insisted lay latent within you. It would be nothing to strut up to him now and toss your phone into his lap, arms crossed and an expectant smirk curling your mouth. "Gonna give me your number, or what?" you'd sigh - exasperated for the sake of drama - his beautiful face wiped clean of its cocksure facade.

Yeah, that'd be real cool.

But you're still sitting here, legs bobbing out of habit. Jimin is still there, smug and sexy, imparting something hilarious enough, apparently, to wind the comparably attractive guys with him. It's then that your phone purrs between your hands, clutched and previously forgotten.

It's Jisoo, said best friend.

[13:56] slut #1: heyyyy

[13:56] slut #1: guess what

It'll be one of two things. Either she needs your notes because she slept-in in lieu of doing the set reading, or—

[13:56] slut# 1: our floor's having a party tonight

Party.

[13:56] slut #1: come or ill break your legs 

The severity of her threat comes down to your repeatedly declining her invitations. It's not that you don't enjoy parties, because you do. In fact, there’s rarely a time you feel more alive than getting smashed and exorcising your anxiety for those few hours. It's more the fact that it takes a month's worth of mental energy to prevent you flaking out in the lead-up.

Today, though, you're game. Your introversion has been well and truly catered to these last, barren weeks. You're at full charge.

[13:58] yeah, why not

Dots dance across the screen.

[13:58] slut #1: serious???? holy shit that was easy for once

[13:58] slut #1: come to my room at 9

[13:59] the party's in your room?

[13:59] slut #1: no dumbass it's like the whole floor, idek whose party it is but u gotta meet me somewhere right

[14:00] kk. see you then

However unlikely, a feeble hope tugs at your fragile, besotted heart. Maybe he'll go? The organ stutters in your chest when you raise your eyes to where Jimin sits. But he's gone. Suddenly, it all seems like a terrible idea. It's just not meant to be. The universe is communicating it to you as gently as it can.

I need a firm slap. Irked by your nonsensical infatuation, you shoot to your feet and make off in a storm, bag not so much slung but catapulted onto your back. I need to get the fuck over this.

The campus square is a sizeable, open space with the central fountain being its only obstacle. However, by how solid the object is that you suddenly collide with, it seems to have sprouted another.

"Shit!" you gasp, nose flattened sharply, painfully, against something immovable. As you rub it, brows sharp in offense, you peer up into eyes of the thing you've blindly marched into.

Fuck.

Jungkook.

One of Jimin's lackeys.

Before you can locate his magenta-headed leader, however, Jungkook fills the entirety of your field of view. His narrow lips draw tighter; eyes, too. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

“U-Uh—”

“Uh?” the musclehead mimics, stooping into your personal space. By instinct, you shrink. At odds with his adorably prominent front teeth, the sneer he wears is nasty. “Anything else?”

An errant glance over Jungkook’s shoulder finds you Jimin. He hangs back, hands in pockets, nonplussed by the confrontation. It’s likely pretty tame in comparison to their usual run-ins. But it frustrates you, nonetheless, that the boy won’t look at you, even now, when the spotlight is searing you.

Jungkook snaps his fingers at the end of your nose and you’re back in the room. “Well?”

“I’m sorry. It was an accident. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You hack for breath when he exhales a plume of cigarette smoke directly into your face. “I-It won’t happen again.”

The other one with them - Seokjin, the half-ass in your business studies class - claps a hand on Jungkook’s seam-straining shoulder. “‘Roid rage. Sorry, sweetheart. You’re a finance major too, right?”

Before you can even process the unexpected civility of his question, Jungkook rounds on him in ire. “The fuck? You know I don’t take steroids.” His cigarette flares at the corner of his mouth. Like a showboating pidgeon, he puffs out his muscular chest. “This is all hard work.”

Seokjin is clearly unmoved. He blinks an unnecessary amount of times, like it’s a tic of his. His glasses ride up as he crinkles his nose. Then: “Okay. Didn’t know you were too stupid to get a joke though. ‘Roids must be shrinking your brain as well as your dick.”

“What—”

An Off-White jacket streaks across your vision.

“—the fuck—”

A white t-shirt follows it soon after.

“—did you just say?”

Jungkook ripples, shirtless, with such unabated fury he distorts the air surrounding. Or maybe it’s the heatwave.

It’s then, beholding this sudden, aggressive display, that your fear finally surfaces. “Oh my God, what the fuck is happening?” you whisper exclusively to yourself, because to attract attention is to court an ass-beating.

And it’s then, of course, that Jimin finally takes heed of your existence. With a quirk of his head, he stares you down. Well, not so much stare. What he does expresses far less effort. His eyes meander the length of you in their own, good time, before landing on your blanching face. The laziest of smirks possess his lips.

Your heart sprouts wings.

His smirk widens.

Fuck, your heart’s airborne. It’s gonna launch itself out your mouth.

Seokjin dispels Jimin’s sorcery with another, unwisely provocative comment. “Your dick’s shrivelled? Or your brain? I don’t know which one offended you.”

Jungkook pounds his chest once, like an oversexed silverback. “Why you always gotta do me like this, bro? Is it ‘cause I fucked your mom that one time? I thought you were over tha—”

“Fuck you!”

Just when you’d established Seokjin as the pacifist of the group, he begins throttling Jungkook double-handed. The pair slip into an awkward grapple while Jimin looks on.

Looks at you.

Doesn’t even spare a glance for the groups of hurried, whispering students migrating across campus.

Guttural grunts float up from the ground as Jungkook and Seokjin’s scuffle escalates, but their leader pays them no mind in that moment. It’s your opportunity to say something more, but you don’t. Your vocal chords never pull together.

Moment missed.

Jimin sweeps a lock of magenta from his eyes, finally animate. A testy sigh siphons from him. “Get up. You’re making me look bad. Put your fucking shirt on, Jungkook.” His voice, usually soft, strikes like a serpent. Venom coats his tongue. “You represent me, dickheads. Plus, you’re scaring this girl.”

The absurdity of the situation, the apprehension you feel, is muffled for a moment. All you can hear is the rush of blood and Jimin’s vocal acknowledgement of your existence ricocheting in your mind. Girl. You.

It’s stupid. Demeaning, even, snapping up these scraps like a slobbering mongrel.

But exciting.

Having captured Jimin’s attention, you bow to him the gratitude you can’t vocalise. The plan, as you rise, is to hit him with a seductive smile, but you're certain your mouth only stretches awkwardly. Nevertheless, his pretty lips purse for a moment before pulling up, too. “I’m going.” He addresses them, but his eyes are on you.

Jimin takes his leave without further ado. As he passes you his gaze lingers too long, demanding he turn his face. His body ghosts past without contact, but a chilly thrill descends upon you like he's drifting right through your bones. And then he struts away like he owns the place, because he does.

And, God, he owns you, too.

His in-fighting entourage scrabble to catch up with him. Jungkook's hastily gathered clothes scrape the floor as he runs, their expense forgotten. “‘Min-hyung! Wait! We’re sorry!”

"Bye then," you comment, quiet, to their retreating backs. It wasn't quite the first encounter you'd prophesied, but considering Jimin's reputation, it should've been.

Anyway.

Your eyes fall to your phone and this evening's plans.

Party.

---

Jisoo's generously highlighted features bob before you in the muted light. Parts of her face are so illuminescent it looks like scaffolding. "Anyway, I'll be back soon. Get some drinks, loosen up. I need to find Namjoon."

"Okay, but are you actually gonna come back?" Your first beaker of jungle juice is already souring your lips. "'Cause if you're gonna find Namjoon, I don't think you're gonna come back."

Her eyes are everywhere but on you, glossy mouth twisting. “I'll really try! But I also really wanna see him, now I know he's here." Suddenly, your free hand is in her meticulously manicured clutches. "I'm not saying I will disappear, but I might. Please understand! I need dick so bad. Please." And now her eyes are on yours, black as night and just as dangerous. Jisoo is never more serious than when cock is at stake.

You shake yourself free of her flimsy grasp and flimsier promises. "Do what you want, but I don't know anyone in your dorm. If you don't come back in an hour, I'm gonna go."

That was an hour ago.

Within that hour, you consumed three cups of awful booze, lingered awkwardly by the party lights, and recovered zero Jisoos. The only noteworthy happening was some plastered guy insisting you were his boyfriend. So insistent, in fact, that you doubted your own identity by the last of the 15 minutes he spent calling you Yoongi. He lamented endlessly about how difficult it would be to survive the evening without getting in your tight little ass. The only thing that convinced him of the truth to your identity was said, tight-assed man appearing and dragging the lightweight away. Yoongi did have a nice ass, you observed, as they fell back into the throng.

Oh.

And Jimin was here.

Skulking the fuchsia shadows like a perfect predator. Thing is, he's already top of the food chain. No hunting required. Very much evidenced by the girls that swarmed him all night like a shoal of pilotfish. The music was too loud and the light too dim, but for every instance he opened his mouth, his accompanying partygoers exploded into laughter. This seems a skill of his. He has dominion over men and women both.

And you're no exception.

Whenever he was in sight, he drew your eyes. When he was dancing, he drew them lower. And there they remained, never straying from his swivelling hips and straining thighs. The girls danced in circles around him like they were worshipping a pagan idol. Understandable. You coveted him, too, from afar.

But now he's gone. Your cup is empty. Jisoo is getting Namjoon'd.

It's been an hour. You're going home.

There’s enough trash at your feet and liquor loosening your morals that you feel no guilt in dropping your beaker onto the pile. Polished, black shoes with pointed toes enter view and crumple that which you’ve littered. You look up.

“Juh—”

Jimin. It’s Jimin. Neither your mouth nor brain can co-ordinate sufficiently enough to identify him verbally, though. Instead, you gawp, inches from his breathtaking face, bathed in romantic light. “Littering, huh? Kinda rude, don’t you think?” He taunts, tongue between teeth. When you don’t rebut him, he slides an arm up the wall behind you. Sinks closer, until your eyes meet on an intimate level. “What are you doing here, campus girl? Didn’t think this was your kind of thing.”

Righteous indignation roils in you. As for why, it’s unclear. As are most things when relatively tipsy. “How would you know what my kind of thing is? You don’t know me. Also, don’t call me campus girl.” At this proximity, you’re acutely aware of the alcohol on your breath. You dial it down a bit. Turn your head and snort. “That’s rude.”

The alcohol, apparently, has also robbed you of your self-preservation skills. Because never in the light of a sober day would you be slighting a delinquent like this. And not the one you’re besotted with, either. That, then, dawns on you. As does his closeness, and the sweet smell of his own poison of choice.

“Well, I don’t know your name, do I?” Charm inhabits his tone, his smile. God, it’s flustering. Jimin toys with you, thwarting your attempts to evade his eyes. His face follows yours, until it’s all you can do but stop and stare. Fall fully and deeply into him. “‘Cause you’re shy, aren’t you?” He wets his lips then, unfairly. They’re dewy and full and even rosier in this light.

“Let me suck your dick,” you blurt, hypothesizing it being just as juicy. Just as tasty. Your inhibitions are low, but not enough that this is a mistake. Jisoo is right. There’s confidence in you, somewhere. You tap it when you tap a keg.

Jimin looks scandalised. His eyebrows vanish into his hairline. Giddy laughter streams from him. “Pardon?”

“I said, let me suck your dick.” Power floods your bloodstream. Liquid courage mingles with. “I’m pretty good at it, and I really want to. Like, so bad. I think about it a lot.”

If he says no, you no longer have to wonder.

If he says no, you never have to look at him again.

If he says no, you can chase someone wholesome and virtuous.

If he says yes, you get to suck his dick.

“Yeah?” Interest kindles in Jimin’s keen, black eyes. He’s close enough, now, that his body heat feels akin to weight against you. His voice drops below the bass of the music. “What did you think about?”

Are you gonna dirty talk in public?

A quick glance around and they aren’t so much the public anymore as parading monkeys, high on lust and low on decency. Just over from you, there’s a girl getting the least discreet fingerbanging of her life.

So, yeah. You lose a little of your rigidity and tip back your head. Lick your lips with a deliberate tongue. “How pretty your cock probably is. How it’d feel on my tongue, in my throat.” Unconscious or not, Jimin’s pressing to your hip. The subject of your conversation starts soft in his pants, but stiffens with your salacious description. Fuck, you’re tingling, too. “How you’d taste, coming down my throat—”

“Are you for real, campus girl?” Jimin interrupts, breathy. Disbelieving. He almost sounds distressed. Like a donkey that doesn’t wanna walk miles for a dangling carrot. Jimin doesn’t seem to get it, though. He’s the carrot, and dear God you wanna chomp down.

“I told you not to call me that. Guess you’re not interested,” you bluff, because not only are you provocative on booze, you’re also an absolute fucking idiot. There’s a significant chance he’ll tire of your tsundere bullshit and find another open mouth. However, as you turn to leave, fate smiles on you. As does he, when he sandwiches you to the wall, his chest to your back and his mouth a ghost on the nape of your neck.

Chills.

Chills spread where his breath is hot and wet. But still, his lips don’t touch. You can, however, hear the smirk in his voice. “Tell me your name.”

The stutter sabotages you somewhat. You’re breathless. “I-It’s ____.”

"____," Jimin repeats with a flick of his tongue, wetting your nape with the slightest of saliva. "Are you for real, ____? Or are you drunk?"

His fingers spread like wildfire across the tops of your thighs, testing the give of your flesh. You exhale as if he's squeezing the soul from you. "I'm for real. I'm not drunk, I've just had enough to realise that if I don't say this now, I never will. How often do you talk to me, after all?"

Jimin's throat rumbles as he contemplates. His lips part by your ear, vocal fry caressing each, careful syllable. "How often do you talk to me?" he poses. The steady, rigid throbbing against your ass suggests that this could've happened sooner.

Reluctant as you are to disturb your clinch, you’re not here to stare at the plastering. It would be a crime to deny yourself the chance to ogle his beauty close-up. With this in mind, you twist against his body, bringing your fronts flush together. God, he throbs all the more potently like this, pressed to the crotch of your dress. Jimin's still smiling, of course, all illegal charm and zero reserve.

A nervous lick of lips. "You're terrifying. Especially when you're surrounded by those guys all the time. That's why I don't talk to you." It’s a half-truth. The other half is your incompetence in flirting.

"And here I was, thinking you were shy," is Jimin’s riposte. "But, clearly, I'm wrong." Those plush, pink lips descend on you before you can blink away the unreality of it. They're softer than any piss-poor imitation of a man's mouth that's come before them. Softer than silk, even. And when they open, syrupy. A mire of heat and wet tongue, caressing away all your prior fears, even if they're legit. It really doesn't matter. Not when you're tasting this sublime man. Not when he suckles at your mouth so sensually, so gently. He can't be that horrific a person when he's holding you with such careful attention. It's too soon when he unties your tongues. "You don't need to be afraid of me," Jimin murmurs thickly to your lips. The lop-sided smile he wears says otherwise. It's a little too close to a sneer. "Well, ____—" he steps back. Lures you with him. "Wanna make this a reality?"

You're giddy as fuck. So much so your legs feel like a Newton's cradle. "Y-Yeah. Take me somewhere—" to speak his name is to make it real— "Jimin."

People blur, merge shapelessly around you as he weaves through their mass, leading you by one, dainty hand. It's not the drink. You're dizzy - high, even - with anticipation so intense it renders all outside his svelte figure indistinct. All there is is him, and what you're about to do. It doesn't even feel like you're tripping up the stairs when you do. You're floating, actually, because he's pulling you up and smirking so salaciously that you're weightless. The only weight is the one nestled deep in your abdomen, punching at your cunt like it knows well what that smug mouth could do.

The two of you stagger into an unoccupied bathroom. It's as grim and grotty as you'd expect of student lodgings, but that matters very little right now. Even though you're painfully germaphobic. The priority is realising you're about to suck off Park fucking Jimin. It hits you so powerfully that, for a very long second, you want to reconsider. After all, he likely has expectations. Confidence flees from you.

"Okay, then. On your knees, ____."

And then it floods back. As does desire.

Jimin perches atop the toilet with poise, its seat flat beneath him. You briefly speculate its cleanliness, but he’s already slinking the denim down his legs and over his knees. They cling in a pool at his ankles, likely impossible to get any further. His visibly wilting cock lounges against the crotch of his CKs, waiting for your intervention. It'll have to wait a little longer, though, because there's nothing on God's awful earth that will hinder your leering at this visual feast. His muscle-strapped thighs are somehow all the thicker hugging the bowl of the toilet. And the tiny, toned waist they taper to is all the confirmation you require to understand that this man is way out of your league. Like, forget international league. You're 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. "Fuck."

The curse is all he needs to understand. Whether it's for the sake of wanking his ego or to titillate you further, Jimin tenses his quads until they're as hard and smooth as varnished oak. All you want is to ride them like a fucking rocking horse. "You making me wait?"

Hell no. Before he can even finish his taunt you're at his feet and kneading his thighs like dense dough. Jimin feels fit. He isn't pliable like lovers gone. He's zero body fat, all thew, all sex. He's everything.

And you're nothing to him.

Tonight, though, you’ll become something.

Your fingers continue upward. And as they do, inward. Where he's slightly fleshier, and by the twitch of his covered dick, more sensitive. "How do you like it?"

"I'm as predictable as any other guy," Jimin half-shrugs, reclining against the cistern. His fingers curl into your hair, though not in any pushy, possessive way. It's almost as though he's simply appreciating its texture. The curve of your scalp. Tingles spring from his touch and arrest your body. "Deep as possible. Don't neglect the shaft. Play with my balls a little," he reels off his litany shamelessly. "If you can take it, lemme fuck your face?"

Each of his suggestions make both your mouth and cunt salivate. You want all of those things and more. That other thing. "We'll see," you say as much to yourself as you do to him. "Let's see what we're working with." You lunge for his waistband with both hands, eager to steal them from his body. Jimin halts you once you peek pubes.

"I'm not sitting my bare ass on this toilet." The grunt he makes is indignant. Adamant.

But you have plans. And so you whip a towel from its rail and coax it beneath him, the makeshift mat feeling dubiously damp. "If you want me to do it good, let me have you without your underwear."

Jimin complies, shifting his weight. Then, with danger perverting his tone: "Then you better do it good, ____."

You perform well under pressure. The pressure that comes with academic deadlines and 10th grade theatre, at least. However, it doesn't extend to sucking the cock of, arguably, the most intimidating, most captivating man you've gawped at from afar. Your previous lovers were diffident and easy to please. It's only through your own, bored invention that you delved deeper into the art of oral with them. You hope it serves you well tonight. "I'll try my best," you challenge, brow cocked, Jimin's boxers successfully purloined. The front of them are tacky to the touch, and this alone incites you. God, you can taste his salt already.

To your dismay, he doesn't resume his careful caressing of your scalp. No, once his bottom half is nude, he splays his thighs obscenely and leans back, fingers curling around the towel-covered toilet seat. From here he peers down his nose at you, a smirk all the while. His torso is one rigid, smooth slope, and you wish selfishy to see it exposed. Asking for that, too, though, might be too much.

And now that your gaze plummets, it doesn't matter. His cock is enough. You'd think it impossible for such an awkward looking appendage to ever earn the term pretty. But, uniform with the rest of him, his is. What he lacks in length he makes up for generously in girth. His cock is chubby and blushing, and, yes, pretty. God, so pretty.

Yes, you'll let him face-fuck you.

The tinkle of Jimin's earrings disrupt your awed silence. He projects impatience: Chewed lips, raised eyebrows, a slight, inquisitive tilt to his head. "This your first time or something?" Magenta falls across his eyes as his focus slips down his own body. He cages his cock inside a delicate fist, nurturing it to its full, thickened capacity. As it grows, so does his filthy smile. "You don't need to lie to me. I can go easy on you."

"This isn't my first time." Your resentment is palpable. Apparently, he enjoys it. As he pumps himself harder, his tongue probes disrespectfully at the corner of his upturned mouth. That only inflames you. "Is it your first time? Are all the rumours false?" Your comeback is risky, but the mood suggests banter is welcome. Perhaps all this big, bad wolf wants is a little, red-faced riding hood to provoke him.

The dare pays off. With one last, long stroke, he lets loose his erection, the concrete appendage slapping his stomach with an admirable thud. Resting back on one hand, he gestures to his waiting cock with the other. "Totally. I'm a good boy, ____. Now stop talking and fucking spit on it."

Your clit jumps. As do you, right into action. With your palms canvassing his inner thighs, you take one last, unenlightened breath before you dive face-first into his musk, pulling aside his cock to nuzzle at its base. To fully savour his scent and warmth. Jimin fills your hand to the extent you're unable to form anything close to a closed fist. Your thoughts are possessed only by your imagination and how wide he could stretch you. How full he could make you. A fucking stampede thuds through your pussy.  "Mm, you have such a nice cock," you murmur around the root of him. It's not so much meant as a compliment, but a statement of pure fact that must be expressed. You're sure he's heard such professions many times.

Yep. "I know, sweetheart." The timbre of his voice is a little heavier. Breathier. As your tongue flicks lazily under the round of his balls, it quivers, too. Nevertheless, he maintains his stoicism. "Why you teasing me down there? You know what I want."

When you pull one of his testicles into your mouth, however, he emits a quiet noise. One that sounds a little like it's something he wants. "Yes, daddy," you mouth around him, full irony. Jimin reacts to it, though. Pushes into your slack grip, looking for friction you're not about to give. It's almost enough to make you roll your eyes. Still, you don't know where the limit to his patience lies. And so you relent and pull your mouth upwards, dragging his sac with your reluctant lips. Jimin tenses when finally you free him, wet, sticky, and back to hanging. And then you're ascending his fat, veiny shaft, lathering the underside with your tongue. Ekeing from him the most delicious gasps of air. His hands go back into your hair, though with far less care this time, grasping at your roots as though to earth him.

"Yeah, that's it, ____. Keep going." Jimin's encouragement is sweeter to the ears than any lauded music. And so is the stifled whine that streams from him when you glaze the tip of his cock with saliva, enough to dribble down its entire length. Once he’s sufficiently spat on, you follow with your mouth. Fuck, it’s a strain to accommodate him. A feat not to scrape him with your teeth. He's so thick you must look vulgar stuffing him between your lips like this. A wayward glance tells you he's enjoying the lewd visual, though. His mouth is parted and breath puffs quickly from him. His eyes, normally sharp with wit, are dull. Fully blown. Jimin devours the sight of your struggle, as you do his uncomfortably chubby dick. His nails imprint crescents of self-restraint into the skin of your scalp. "F-Fuck. Yeah. Suck me."

You do. More fervently than you have any mouth-watering candy. Your lips work the head of his cock with measured pressure, back-and-forth, to the tune of his increasingly whiny vocalisations. Instinct takes him, sometimes, and he jerks without thought into you. Your teeth graze him, then, but it seems like an ineffective deterrence. No, sometimes he moans when you catch him, and for that you reward him with tongue on his frenulum.

That gets him the most.

His thighs ripple, his back bends. His head of magenta hair falls back.

"You—mmmmh—like that?" is your an attempt at a taunt, dulled by the cock wedged in your cheek.

"You suck dick like a fucking slut." Jimin is panting now, a sheen of perspiration oiling his face. Fuck, he looks dewy and downright dirty. The crotch of your panties is saturated with want for him. "You pretend you're all innocent and shit, but, Jesus, you're a dirty bitch."

With an enthusiastic flex of his thighs, he struggles free from the jeans binding him and props up a foot, knee bent and accentuating just how shapely his calves are. Spread like this, he's sordid. Wanton. He's getting desperate, and, against all expectations, unafraid to show it. Men with his level of machismo are typically reserved. It turns you on, dials you into overdrive, just how unabashed his enjoyment is. "Deeper. Can you take it deeper, ____? P-Please," Jimin whimpers on cue, resolve thready.

Briefly, you alight from his cock. He whimpers about that, too. This man is the terror of your college campus. And now he’s a needy, sex-swollen mess. "Depends. Can I edge you?" You're actually decently sober at this point, but bravado still brews in you nevertheless.

Jimin, no longer basking, purses his lips. Glares with the fury of a thousand blue-balled men. "Don't you fucking dare. Try it and I'll take over. I’ll come all over your smug little face."

The threat, in actuality, is more a solemn hope of yours. "Okay, okay. I won't edge you." Your hands keep busy while your overtaxed mouth relishes its moment of emptiness. You funnel your energy, instead, into keeping his cock stiff, five fingers twisting along its lubed-up length. With the other hand, you return to your earlier fixation and palm tenderly at his distended balls. A delicate quivering radiates from his core muscles. "But I really wouldn't mind you coming all over my face."

Everything about him tenses, then releases. His eyelids, low, bear the weight of arousal. "For real?"

"Might as well, my knees are already gross. You can get me dirtier if you like, Jimin." And then you're pulling down the straps of your dress until your breasts spill out, already pebbled and desperate for a fondling they won't get tonight. "Or here. Or everywhere. Just go to town."

Jimin gulps down stuffy, humid air. Concentrates a little too hard on your uncovered tits. Rocks a little too enthusiastically into your undulating grip. "God, yeah. I wanna come all over you. Spit in your fucking mouth." Suddenly it's not just your sole fist grasping him. He's clutching you, clutching him. Squeezing your knuckles until they're white and his cock is very, very red. "I'll bend you over the bathtub and fuck you 'til I break your hips. 'Til your pussy's dripping cum."

“Jesus—”

You’re so luststruck by his vulgar fantasies that it’s almost too late when you come to your senses. Jimin fucks your hands so ferociously it’s clear that the beast has taken him. You snatch away your hands before he wastes himself all over them. His come away, too, hovering in the air and demanding answers.

"Okay, well you just edged yourself." A giggle slips out while you watch him heave breath like he's nearing death. In a way, it's cute. Jimin's cheeks are full and flushed, eyes rounder than moons. He himself seems taken aback by his lapse into unadultered lust. "Don't take away the only reason I came here."

Despite Jimin's earlier, emphatic disapproval of being edged, he sure seems appreciative now. He basks in the near-rush, mellower than before. Gently - perhaps affectionately? - he cradles the back of your head and draws you in, a thumb pressing caresses to your cheek. This sudden sweetness, it's abnormal. Harmful. You don't want it. You don't want to see his good side, nor fall for it.

But here he comes, eyes searching, lips begging.

"Then deepthroat me like I asked."

Nevermind.

The pompous smirk is back. He reclines, his one leg up like an ode to Michaelangelo, dick tall and looking just as self-important. You're decided. It's time to make him squeal. "Okay. No edging. But let me make it feel even better?"

Jimin drips scepticism. "How?"

Fully anticipating rejection, you're direct. "Lemme stick a finger up your ass."

Again, he surprises you. Insomuch that revulsion doesn’t immediately sour him. "The fuck?" A husky chuckle rattles in his chest, instead. "Is that your secret technique?"

"Kinda." Your shoulders draw inward as self-consciousness consumes you. "I totally get it if you don't want to. But the other guys I've been with enjoyed it."

"Then do it, whatever. Don't let me go soft, though, ____," Jimin warns with pouty lips. His cock leans demonstratively forward, threatening flaccidity. "I'm feeling neglected."

"Tragic," you coo, feigning empathy. Looking as petulant as he, you suckle softly around the head of his dick, enkindling his passion before it fades. Your tongue does work around its bulbous ridge, teasing where it makes him squirm most. Then, with his demands in mind, your mouth descends over his modest stretch of shaft, worshipping each, precious inch as you go.

“Yes, baby. That’s it, that’s it.”

You dip and rise, tug and suck in a tantalising advance toward his base, wringing the precum from him. It's salty and sticky and you love it on your tongue, love smearing him with his own mess. Want to smear him with your mess.

“Fuck, yeah. K-Keep—unh!—going!”

The more of him you gobble, the more erratic his body behaves. Beneath your hands, his sweat-tacked thighs are tremulous, tensing without rhyme or reason. Jimin has little control over  any of his extremities. His hands are uncomfortable fists in the back of your hair, like he's reining in a wilful mare. And then there's his beautiful, unstopped moaning, so sinful your clit thumps like a bass drum between your legs. You moan, too, slurping the end of his leaking cock to the back of your throat so he can better feel it. The reverberations must reach him, because Jimin bucks, then, wildly enough to trigger a gag. "Ugh, y-yes, fuck!"

You can't so much as master Savasana in yoga, but what you are adept at is gag control. And though you cough a little, slaver a little, nothing but sudden death will stop you now. Nose-deep in Jimin’s considerately trimmed pubic hair, you trap him momentarily there, the whole of his cock nestled deep in your throat's constraints.

Jimin looks half-way gone. His hands hover above your shoulders, fingers curling and twitching peculiarly, like he’s about to astral project. Indeed, all you can see through the sliver in his lightly-closed lids is the white of his eyes. Every so often Jimin rolls his pelvis towards you, but you stymy his attempts to face-fuck you until you're ready to see him over the finish line. Grasping his hips, your thumbs take the liberty of feeling the lines of his obliques, and, God, you've never hated an item of clothing more than the t-shirt he's wearing.

"More," he splutters, then, swivelling against your hold like he's compelled. "More, give me more. I'm so close, I—I wanna fucking drown you in cum—" an ungodly groan bursts forth as he whips himself into a frenzy of his own making— "Fuck, you suck cock so good—so good, baby."

Of all things, baby is what heats your cheeks. The endearment feels like long-coveted validation. "Bear with me," is what you try to communicate, but considering the weight of his cock is pinning your tongue, it comes out garbled. Jimin doesn't even notice, so rapt is he in your mouth's luxury. Occasionally, he rewards your efforts with globs of pre-ejaculate that slide smooth down your throat.

Not wanting to interrupt his well-earned crawl to orgasm, you bob on his cock hands-free, employing them instead to locate one of the condoms populating your purse. Keeping pace is difficult enough that it's not long before Jimin, unsteady on his perch, growls in caution.

"Don't you dare fucking stop," he grunts through gritted teeth, scrutinising your every, unrelated move. When he sees what it was you sought, the growl becomes a snarl. The disdain his eyes convey is almost comical. "Don't make me come in that. I'm not coming in that," he snorts, placated momentarily by your refocused efforts on his plump little dick. As you tear open the wrapper, you tongue his cock hole like a striking snake. "Oh, sh-shit!—H-Hey, if you don't want me to come on you I won't, but—"

Slobber splatters the towel in your haste to cut him off. "It's not for you."

Rather than court more questions, you demonstrate. Hastily, you unroll the condom over your longest finger. Then, with his unerring attention, you squat back on your heels and hike up your dress, allowing him a view onto your panty-wrapped cunt. Jimin doesn't even notice that your mouth is gone from him while he’s leching. It’s just long enough an opportunity to dip your rubber-sheathed digit deep into the wetness of your pussy. He makes noises as you do, quiet ones, ones that stress how much he wants to be inside it. When you withdraw, your lips lock back onto him, kissing his cock where it's most swollen and sensitive. "Try and relax, okay? It'll feel good quicker if you do," you offer in advice, your cunt-slick finger bypassing his balls and slithering along his perineum. Already he's reacting, even from this slight, external stimulation.

"I'm relaxed as fuck," Jimin puffs defiantly, despite his initial recoil. "Show me what you're all about, ____."

"Alright then." Ever so carefully, you wheedle the tip of your finger past his asshole, stopping when his body tells you to. "Jimin, if you can’t handle it—"

They're unextraordinary words, but, apparently, the magic ones. Immediately he loosens around you. "I can. Shut up."

You do. By engulfing his erection without warning. Drawing on it like you would a drinking straw, enough to fluster him into distraction. The result is an easy, sailing entry into his ass, right up to your knuckle. It's not difficult to locate his prostate from there, as deliciously swollen as it is. With a cursory couple of taps, Jimin's body responds in new, mesmerizing ways.

"W-What the fuck—ah!" he cries through his confusion, the unfamiliar feeling prying his eyes wide. Jimin can only watch, overwhelmed, as you manipulate him from within, his back arching clean from the cistern. He's suspended by sensation, a wobbling tension keeping him upright. As you slurp mercilessly at his cock, you fix him with a look. Jimin's not there to receive it, though. His expression says his brain short-circuited the moment you started stroking him internally. And then, with a choked gasp, he returns to the corporeal, yanking at your hair like a man possessed. Only, he's pulling you away. "Stop, oh fuck, I'm gonna piss in your mouth." Distress and arousal fight for his features. The latter is winning, if the stutter of his hips is anything to go by. He's caught between two worlds of pleasure; bookended by penetration and your softly nursing mouth. All he can do is thrust from one to the other.

You come away with his hands, just briefly. Kitten-lick his purpling cockhead. "It's okay. You won't pee, it's meant to feel like that. Just go with it, unless you don't like it."

The blush dusting his cheeks deepens. You can't imagine it's because he's embarrassed, but for a moment he looks vulnerable. Human. Beautiful. Your heart trips. "Whatever," he attempts nonchalance, but his needy fragility is fooling no-one. "I like it, so don't stop. As long as you're sure i won't piss in your mouth. I mean, I don't care if I do, but you might—ungh!"

Swallowing a man's cock is as good as gagging them. Jimin falls quieter than night when you welcome him back into your warmth, working his shaft as well as your aching jaw will allow. Your tongue, too, is tiring, and yet you only twist around him all the more ravenously. It's not just his body that’s contorting when you pound at his prostate, now. His mouth hangs open unchecked, all thought for appearances gone. Within, his tongue writhes, articulating nothing but bodiless sounds.

You rub harder. Suck harder. More insistent. Jimin's eyebrows knit so tightly his nose crinkles. And when he does, a flood of runny, salty liquid squirts into your mouth, catching you off guard and in-between breaths. It's a wonder you don't drown when it keeps coming, this thin, bountiful expulsion. "F-Fuck, God—what is that—" he whines between milkings. As it seeps from your stuffed mouth, Jimin is enraptured. With his focus on you, you regurgitate it noisily over his cock, dousing him in his own fluids. "Fuck, i-it feels so good. I want more." His hands are either side of your face, fingers at your temples, palms pressuring your cheeks. "More." With a grunt, he hoists his previously dangling leg onto the toilet seat with the other. He squats, open and obscene, the picture of aroused anguish. "More. Harder," he jerks, marionette-like, to fuck himself on your finger, to propel his cock further down your throat. You're prepared for this onslaught now, mouth wide and tongue laying dormant as he rams his tip to your tonsils. Each thrust pushes more of his leakage from your mouth until you're drooling like a starving dog. And he's transfixed by it, teeth grinding, gripped by a terrifying hunger. "Fuck. Take it, take me, oh, shit—t-ta—"  

Nothing much else comes from Jimin but discharge, his face contorting as his body does, locked and straining. The motion of his hips slows until it ceases. There, he floats, with unseeing eyes, his orgasm approaching in an unavoidable swell. The throbbing that radiates from his buried cock is the final tell you chance before you cough him from your mouth, kneeling tall before him, breasts and face a blank canvas. You don't push him that last step so much as hammer him, battering his prostate until his mouth twists in devastation. Jimin's eyes are so wide it's like you're fucking the fear of God into him. He rises from his squat, millimetre by millimetre, as you slap your palm to his taint; his bloated balls. "C-Coming, I'm coming—" is all he can rasp as his soul departs and streaks your face once, twice—your eyelids fall closed as thick, viscous white weights down your lashes. Robbed of your sight, his groans hit louder, deeper. They resonate with agony, almost. And still he paints you, your throat, your neglected tits. "Oh my God, I—"

“That’s it, Jimin. Empty yourself on me.”

As the deluge dies away, you wipe your eyes free of cum and slide yourself from his spasming asshole. You expect to see him sat there, clutching his softening cock, but instead he’s sat back, hands-free and seeing constellations on the ceiling. "You came without touching your dick? Damn. That's restraint," you chuckle, your mouth feeling oddly loose. Too big. Too empty. When Jimin doesn't respond: "You okay?"

He stirs briefly from catatonia, though he continues to stare spaceward. "I'm good. I'm good. I think." A laugh comes out, but it's like he's forgotten what they should sound like. "Well, that was fucking awesome." A few, dumbstruck seconds later, Jimin returns to earth with a shaky sigh and that damn smirk. Finally, he looks at you. "Whoa. I got you messy as fuck."

A deadpan blink is all you can spare him when most of your body is protesting some type of pain. Your jaw, particularly, feels unhinged. "Yeah. You didn't notice that before?" You slip the latex from your finger and lob it at the trashcan. You miss.

"I did, but I was, like, coming my brains out. I didn't know what the fuck I was seeing, other than it was good." With an unsteady hand, he flattens back his soaked bangs and stares at you, eyelids heavy. His cheeks are stained pink with exertion. "You look so hot like that. Fuck." And though his body must be leaden after satiation, he pulls you up to your knees, until your torsos nearly touch. Stops just short of smearing himself with his own ejaculate. Instead, he cups one of your soiled breasts with a small, soft hand, thumbing his cum across the nipple. Being touched here, now, after such deprivation, it's like a kiss of life to your cunt. It roars back to life with a bitter vengeance. But Jimin remains modest in his touches. Doesn't stray much from your one, sticky breast. No, he's more focused on you. Your face. Studying all there is to know about its shapes. And he's inscrutable as he does it. It makes you nervous. "Well." It's scarcely more than a whisper. "Thank you," he mumbles, soft and awkward, like he's never before expressed appreciation for anything. And then he kisses you again, though it feels like it's for the first time. It's slow, intimate, with lazy tongue and spent breaths in between. It makes your heart race for several, terrifying reasons. You break apart, then. "Can I do anything for you?"

"N-No, that's okay." The proposition is unexpected. And with the way you're feeling, dangerous. "I got what I came for. I had fun. Thank you, too." You rise to standing, weathering the crack of your joints as you go. "I'll just clean up quickly."

Jimin is already towelling down his own, comparatively unscathed body. He stands, too, though with far more grace. As he feeds himself back into his too-tight jeans, he extends the towel to you. "If you're sure." A tinge of something colours his tone. Disappointment? "Maybe next time."

Next time?

Jimin's semen begins to crust on your chin. The towel twists in your hands. "What?"

There's an indifference to his body language that doesn’t quite ring true. He shrugs on his jacket. "Yeah. Next time, right?"

For several seconds you both stand there, locked in an unsaid exchange. The air is pregnant with meaning.

The door flies open.

"There you are!" In Jungkook strolls, bleary-eyed and with no clear bearing on his surroundings. "Someone said they saw you come in here." His gaze is hazy as it lands on you and your poorly shielded tits. And then it’s on your face again, where Jimin's spunk is heaviest. "Holy shit."

What feels like a century of shame passes, but it's no more than a microsecond before Jimin is slamming the point of his boot into Jungkook's abdomen. "Get the fuck out!" He bellows, octaves deeper than all this past half hour. Masculinity oozes from his squared shoulders and jutted jaw. The hardness is in his eyes, too. They're like steel as they cut Jungkook down, unchanging even as the younger man claws at his gut and stumbles back. "Don't fucking barge in on me again. This ain’t for you to see."

"I-I'm sorry, 'min-hyung." Jungkook slurs his words past comprehension. "C-Call me wh-when yuh wha-wanna split."

Jimin folds his arms. Tucks balled fists inside. "Yeah, now go."

Unfortunately for Jungkook, the gang-leader catches that last, errant look at your naked breasts. And for that he is rewarded with another swift kick; to his retreating backside, this time. Though you can't see him behind the door, you hear the impact of his fall to all-fours and grimace. Jimin's line of sight tracks low. Jungkook must be crawling away. "Go and sober up, you stupid piece of shit. We're going soon."

The door slots back into its frame. Jimin lingers there a little longer than necessary, his head bowed to the panelling. "Uh." Again, he's different. Transformed. Someone more timid stands in Jimin's place. Ruffles the back of his well-tousled hair. "Sorry. He's a dipshit."

"It's okay," you laugh. You have to, because the entire scenario is astounding. "You didn't have to kick him, though. Twice."

Arms criss-crossing his chest, Jimin watches as you wipe away his residue. For some reason, you’re more self-conscious now than when he put it there. "He deserved it. He's an idiot. Idiots don't learn unless you kick them in the ass. I didn't kick him in the balls, at least. And for that, he should be thanking me."

Clearly, your views on appropriate punishment diverge. Jimin inhabits a different world to yours. It's unnerving. And a little exciting, even though it shouldn’t be. "I'll defer to your judgment in his case." Your straps come up and over your shoulders. On inspection, suspicious white stains dot your dress despite your attempts to prevent that. Hopefully everyone is so smashed by this point that they can’t distinguish it from any of their other surroundings. "Okay, I'm gonna go. My dorm's just across from this one."

"I'll walk you. It's not safe." There's a certainty to Jimin's words that speaks of his experience. Ironically, it's probably safer out there while he's tied up in here. "Lots of scumbags out there that will target girls who are alone."

Fully covered, now, you clutch your purse in front of the worst of the splattering. You want to say something, so you do. You feel like you've earned it. "Not you?"

So self-assured, Jimin is. For a moment, though, he isn't. His smile flickers. "Never. I'm not about that. And I'll thrash anyone who is."

The answer pleases you. Diminishes his other activities somewhat. Somewhat. Just enough that you can go home and fuck yourself into a guiltless coma. "Okay. Well, it was fun. Don't worry about walking me. It's literally just across from here and there are still people around. I gotta find my friend first, anyway.”

Another shrug. Then, with the same nonchalance, he offers up his phone to you. "'Kay."

Eyes on him rather than the device, you take it from him. "What's this?" The screen displays a newly created contact. The phone number is blank. The contact name, though?

Litterbug.

It's hard to scoff at it when you love it so much. "What the hell? That's me?"

"Yeah. Gimme your number?" Jimin grins, brazen-faced. The temptation to kiss him is almost insurmountable. "I wanna see you again, litterbug."

You smile, too. Until you don't. "I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea. I didn't plan on anything past this."

If Jimin's shaken by the snub, he hides it masterfully. His smile isn't quite so burnished, though. "Neither did I, but then this happened, and I want it to happen again, ____. Let me show you just what I can do for you."

God, it's tempting. A bite of that apple is worth being cast from Eden. But your heart is weak and liable to entwine far too easily. And he's not the type of man that should occupy space outside of your depraved fantasies. "How many girls with cute pseudonyms do you have on there?" you deflect, knowing well the answer. Hearing it might temper your hopes somewhat.

"I don't give out my actual number to anyone." Jimin doesn't miss a beat of breath. "Only those that matter to me. Or might do," he adds, quieter, losing his bullishness altogether. "But, do what you want." His palm lays flat in expectation of receiving his phone back empty, but you hesitate. Look down at the vacant space. You could fill that.

You want to.

"Okay, there I am." With a flourish of thumbs and a final tap, your name is input and the contract sealed.

The Devil smiles. "Cool." His fingers linger on yours when you return the device. They're soft like charmeuse, and just as expensive. Because this will cost you everything, you're sure. "Can I see you tomorrow? So you can explain to me exactly what it is you just did to my ass?"

Tomorrow? Jimin’s keen. And you’re smiling again. “Sure. I’ll give you a practical demonstration.”

[ravensirens]

do you feel similar to your muse in any way? (from my inbox call!)

Not really? Been way too many years since these girls were first created, so there's only some things left that I project onto them. (Jasper and Marquis are the only males on the ship so... 8I they're usually below deck somewhere. )

Miyuki -- My obsession with sweets, ice cream, and root beer floats. Short, likes blue-greens, and the water.

Crimson -- I had a time in my life where I was really into redheads. Not so much anymore? Crimson's anger and joking behavior are essentially what I want to do if I didn't care so much about what others thought or felt.

Mira -- I have to be in a hateful and petty mood in order to write as her. Has my nihilism. 'Nough said.

Ana -- Self-righteous tendencies, I suppose...? Also, very interested in code and deciphering. The times when friends are talking and you just want to roll your eyes. There is no stopping them what they intend to do. So, you just watch in horror...

Marquis & Marie -- The times where I just want to shut myself from the world and just read, write, and study things I feel are interesting. I suppose they have a bit of my dark humor... ._.

Jasper -- He's mostly asleep or napping. The guy has the carnal sin Sloth down to a 'T'. I used to play instruments, and Jasper... loves playing music. I used to. He plays mostly reed instruments.

Rockette -- Has my interest in chilling out on a boat for a day or two. Saw Radio City Rockettes a couple of times as for where her name comes from...

Shakti -- The only king I remembered from a unit on Ancient India, King Ashoka. Shakti... is either an avatar or an aspect of Parvati or Lakshimi.

Nerissa -- I was interested in cooking and baking, but ... not anymore? I also think sharks are cool :T...

[mssjynx]

supernatural au, enemies to lovers, ‘need any help with that’ for whatever ship you’re feeling for at the moment, but if you already have a lot no rush

terrormoo drabble | 16. supernatural!au [ mermaids! ] | 2. enemies to lovers | 30. “need any help with that?” 

-

There wasn’t much that Brian could hate about Brock. 

Seriously. Everybody that Brian knew adored him and there didn’t seem to be a single scale out of place on the guy. He was a supposed angel; a new face everybody had fallen in love with since the moment he’d turned up at their community, a coral bag over one shoulder and a sweet smile and helping hand. 

It had been two months since the mermaid had arrived from the American waters and Brian was still scrunching up his nose at the sound of the guys name. 

Now it wasn’t like Brock had done anything to really deserve Brian’s irritation. Brian had only spoken to him twice after hearing every single person in town go on and on about how sweet he was, how genuine, how lovely. And maybe it had annoyed him, and maybe he was rude. 

He had ignored Brock’s introduction; turned away from that sweet face and round cheeks, glared at Evan when the other mermaid had given him a weird look and swum away before Brock could even lower his hand. When Brock found him later where he worked, shooing fish out of coral to do his tests of the reef and making sure they returned safely to happy healthy homes, the foreign mermaid had confronted him directly. 

“Have I done something that pissed you off?” were the words that startled Brian where he was running his fingers along a bridge of pink and purple. He hadn’t expected to have company at all and from the fright he received, his hand jerked and he knocked a branch of coral right off. 

“Fock,” he growled, catching the piece as it sunk. He then spent a few moments covering the broken part of the reef with light bits of moss. He retested the area before drifting down to the next part of the coral and ushering the fish back into their previous home. A moment passed in which he watched them settle and, only once satisfied, he turned to his visitor. 

“Ye made me break a part of t’e coral,” he said, meeting cool brown eyes with a cold look. He held up the piece and watched Brock’s face fall.

“I’m sorry!” the mermaid blurted out, hands coming to his mouth as he curled his tail up beneath him. “I didn’t mean to- to startle you I was just wanting to speak with you about-” 

“I’m working,” Brian cut, turning back to his reef. “I can’t afford to be distracted. I’m already behind.”

A silence drifted in the water among them and Brian only allowed his shoulders to relax when he heard the soft swish of water, indicating Brock’s exit. 

He didn’t care for the new face in town and he wasn’t going to be like everyone else, falling to the sandbed and kissing his tail. 

-

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Brian’s heart was thumping in his chest, diving deeper and dipping beneath a bridge in the reef. He was swimming fast, faster than he probably ever had before, and he cursed the bag he had hooked over his shoulder because it was definitely slowing down. 

But he didn’t care if the shark chasing him had two tails, he wasn’t dropping his bag. 

He swerved, spinning in the water and throwing a glance back behind him. A small yelp left his mouth in a bubble when seeing only teeth and he aimed for the rocky wall of reef, propelling himself off it and shooting up and forward. 

This wasn’t his first flee from a shark but damn this one was big and it was fast. 

He pushed himself further, cursing and muttering as he dodged between the reef and ducked through weeds. He was close- so close. He just had to get there…

With the reef he was searching for in sight, bright blue coral branches reaching tall and proud, he hissed in delight. He surged forwards, feeling the beast right on his tailfin, and threw himself into the narrow hole, flipping over himself and spinning out in his rush to stop as the reef enveloped him. Fish scattered in surprise at his presence but he didn’t care, sinking back onto the coral that lined the small hole in the reef. 

He was safe. He’d made it. 

One big exhale. He was not proud of the shriek that he let out when his reef shelter shuddered around him. The swish of a grey tail was all he saw through the gap in the coral as the shark retreated, but he knew better than to assume it was gone. 

He couldn’t believe that he’d allowed Evan to borrow his spear. 

The water was cool as he floated up to the hole, moving only gently with the tide as to not cause too much of a disturbance. Sharks were smart to an extent, but easily fooled. He just needed to keep his eyes on the beast to make sure he didn’t make a fool of himself. 

The blue expanse seemed even more endless than before as he squinted out into the ocean. He stuck his head out to have a scan of the open water above him, but there was no sight of the predator. There was no way he was going to leave his hole of safety without some measure of protection though, that was for sure. 

A patch of reeds waved in the water a few metres from where he sat and he knew they were his best chance. With another scan around where he could see, he dragged himself out of the hole and peaked over the top of the reef. A distant shimmer of silver; there was no way that that wasn’t the shark. 

He had to be quick. 

He shot himself from his shelter, launching to the reeds and turning himself sharp around through them. One hard yank and he had a handful to himself, spotting tiny black eyes from a mile away as he spotted the shark coming straight for him. He dove for the shelter, hoping, begging, praying, that he would reach it before the shark, and nothing made his heart pound more than feeling the shark’s underside hit the end of his tail. 

“Holy shit,” he gasped, clutching his chest and falling back to the reef. “Fock me,” he muttered, eyes resting shut as he felt his heart slam against the palm of his hand. 

It took a minute for his heart to calm down and when he eventually was able to breathe normally again, he turned his attention to the long reeds he had grabbed. With nimble fingers, he began braiding them together; creating a thick rod out of several long stretches of green. He pulled tight with every knot, not giving the tool any space to bend or curve. Gratitude swelled for his younger years; practice in making spears for his supposed future as a warrior. He was thankful that he never went down that path but also thankful he had spent many long hours fumbling with reeds and stones. 

It was easy to find a sharp rock for him to lock onto the end of the rod, tying it in with a final piece of reed and fiddling with the knot. He failed the knot three times, cursing at his shaking fingers as he caught another glimpse of the shark dipping past his whole. 

Another fail and he growled into a few bubbles. 

“Need any help with that?” 

He jumped out of his own tail at the sound of the voice, jolting up and spinning around. Brock. His cautious face and small frown. His eyes were on Brian’s makeshift spear and Brian felt his heart drop at the glimpse of his orange tail swaying out behind him. 

There was no time to think. 

“Brock,” Brian hissed, launching himself at the other man and grasping both of his wrist. There was definitely no room to be gentle as he yanked hard on Brock’s arms, not acknowledging the look of alarm on the stranger’s face. He pushed off the inner wall of the shelter and pulling Brock in with a flip and a tumble; grasping the man to his chest and curling his tail around Brock’s to make sure every hair and scale on his body was inside the shelter. 

The water swooshed as a flash of grey blurred past the gap in the reef; the shark only two seconds too late. When Brian looked down at Brock, the mermaid was as white as sand.

“Ye fuckin’ idiot,” Brian growled, releasing the man and resting his back to the reef. He snatched up his rod and stone, wrestling the rock into place and finally tying it down. 

“You- Yo- The sha- I-” Brock was far from making sense as Brian shot up to the window again, scanning for the shark that had almost taken a bite of a bright orange tail. He saw the beast, drifting through the water several metres away. Its beady black eyes didn’t move from Brian and the mermaid shuddered.

“You hafta stay close t’ the village,” Brian scolded when he turned back to Brock. “These fockers are comin’ in closer and closer every year but the village is protected from ‘em. Unless you’re fast enough to outswim ‘em, or strong enough to fight one off, ye can’t just go for a wander when ye feel like it.” 

Brock nodded quickly, eyes wider than ever. The gills on his neck were flickering in fear and Brian melted; his shoulder’s relaxing and glare softening. He sunk down to where the other man rested, taking a hand in his and stroking his wrist in reassurance. 

“You’re safe wit’ me,” he told him, keeping steady eye contact and making sure the older mermaid was listening. “I know t’ese sharks all too well. I won’t let t’em touch a scale on your tail, okay?” 

Brock nodded again, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and gripping Brian’s hand tightly. 

“Now I’m gonna go out there an’ jab this sardine until he focks off. When I say so, ye jump out to me and we’re gonna jet back to the village and get you safe. Are ye a fast swimmer?” he asked, lifting his fingers to brush Brock’s cheek, stroking the soft skin and keeping those brown eyes on him. 

All the other could do was shrug. 

“Okay, well ye’re gonna swim fast with me. Ready?” Brian asked with a grin, not waiting to see if Brock answered yes or no. He turned, giving the other’s hand one last squeeze before he shot himself out of the window with both hands on his spear. Unsurprisingly, it took the shark two seconds to react; lining himself up for the exposed mermaid and shooting towards him. 

This wasn’t Brian’s first rodeo. 

The mermaid leapt out of the way in time, swinging the spear and landing a hard jab below the beast’s eye. It’s large body didn’t slow it down though, making a sharp one-eighty and heading right back towards Brian. “Come an’ get me!” he shouted, poised to dodge again. This time, he threw himself backwards, one sharp shove of his tail sending him down and under the shark. He heard the gnash of teeth and laughed in glee. When he spun around, it was already coming and with one shark swerve, he smacked the shark upside the head with his tail and jabbed the speak hard into its side. The rock embedded itself into the shark’s flesh and blood immediately began seeping into the water. 

The spear was torn from Brian’s hands as the shark swam out of his range, spearhead still stuck in its body. 

Brian wasn’t about to help it though, turning back to his shelter as the grey beast swam off. “Come on! Before it starts to think it can still get us.” 

Brock’s fear was evident, eyes still wide and bottom lip trembling. But he emerged from his shelter all the same, reaching Brian quickly as the Irish mermaid scanned the depths. No sight of the shark, but he couldn’t get cocky. He grabbed Brock’s hand, adjusting the bag still looped around his shoulder and starting off towards their home. He swam quickly and Brock had no trouble keeping up. There was no sight of their attacker and only when they were safely within the village’s boundaries, did Brock relax. Brian checked him over for injuries; but other than a few scrapes caused by the reef, there was no damage and the mermaid seemed fine and safe.

“Don’t ye ever go swimming out of the village boundaries without me, Marcel or Tyler, okay? It ain’t as safe in t’ese waters as it where you’re from.” Brian drew back but his fingers remained interlocked with Brock’s. 

When Brock let out a small, “Okay,” his heart twitched and Brian found himself not wanting to let go of Brock at all. Without thinking too deeply into it, he pulled the foreign mermaid in and embraced him, allowing the older to nuzzle his nose against Brian’s gills. The sensation was ticklish and endearing and Brian only held him tighter, propping his chin atop Brock’s head. 

He eased back with a soft smile, tail flicking against Brock’s. “Now go find Ryan and get yerself some moss for those scratches. I’ve gotta get these stones to Craig. I’ll see you around, Brocky,” he said, not thinking too deeply into the nickname that rolled off his tongue with ease as he released the mermaid and his fingers. “Stay safe!” he called as he swimming backwards, throwing one last grin to the guy before turning onto his front and heading for the museum where he could find Craig. 

And despite all the fuss he gave about Brock being the village’s new heartthrob, he couldn’t find any real reason to continue sticking up his nose. In fact, he found it too easy to spend time around the other man, not trusting many others to teach him about their ecosystem and their rules. 

The first time he made Brock laugh, he swore his heart fell right to his tail fin. 

[flowerfan2]

Group Texts Are Ridiculous (Or, Five-0 Starts a Group Text)

McDanno, T, A03, 6k so far

Summary:  After Steve leaves Oahu to go find himself, Five-0 starts a group text to keep in touch while Steve’s away.  Picks up after the end of Season 10.

Notes:  This story is set in the present, following 10x22, but there’s no COVID in it...  I wanted it to be fun.  The story is complete and will be posted over the next few weeks.  Many thanks as always to my awesome beta, @perryavenue.

Chapter 3

June 25, 2020

JR:  What’s the name of Steve’s vet, the one he sort of dated?

QL:  If you and Tani were considering a threesome you could have let me know.

TR:  News to me.  But I suppose we could talk…

JR:  Shut up.  Eddie’s hurt, do you know the vet’s name or not?

TR:  Oh no, what happened?

JR:  I’m not sure, we just got back from a run and he’s limping a little.

DW:  Don’t go anywhere.  Keep Eddie still, I’ll be there in ten.

JR:  Shouldn’t I take him to the vet?

DW:  Just called them.  Stay right where you are.

JR:  Danny, Eddie’s fine, I can just put him in the truck.  He probably just stepped on something sharp.

QL:  Is he bleeding?  You should elevate his leg.

JR:  No, he’s not bleeding, it’s not that serious.  

TR:  Can you tell which paw it is?

JR:  Of course I can tell, it’s the foot he’s holding up when he tries to walk.

DW:  Did you not understand the part about keeping him still?  Walking is not keeping him still.  Sit with him, don’t let him move.

 JR:  We’re sitting on the couch, don’t worry, Eddie is fine.  He’s licking my face.  Normal Eddie behavior.  I think he actually forgot about his foot.

 TR:  Doesn’t hurt to be careful.  Junes, where did you take Eddie anyway?  Just the beach?

 TR:  Junes?  You there?

 JR:  Sorry, had to let HPD in.

 TR:  Wait, why is HPD there?

 JR:  Apparently Danny sent them.  With flashers and sirens.

 TR:  Of course, that makes sense.

 JR:  Um, no it doesn’t.  Eddie is fine.  And Five-0 isn’t supposed to use HPD for personal stuff.

 TR:  Yeah, we never do that.  

 SM:  What the hell happened to my dog?

  July 5, 2020

 LG:  I hate all of you, but especially Tani.

 TR:  It was just lemonade, Grover.

 LG:  No, it was iced tequila with one lemon slice floating on top.

 TR:  Party lemonade.

 LG:  It’s not very patriotic to get your elders drunk.

 TR:  No one said you had to drink it.

 LG:  Pretty sure you said anyone who doesn’t taste my lemonade has to go home.

 TR:  I had already had some lemonade when I said that.  I can’t be held responsible for my actions.  Face it, you’re a lightweight.

 LG:  Clearly not true.

 TR:  Then why did Renee make you leave early?

 LG:  We had another party to go to, as I told you last night. Where is everyone, anyway?  I thought Junior and Quinn were on today.

 TR:  I’m sure they’ll turn up any minute.

 LG:  Junior is still asleep, isn’t he?

 TR:  The lump under the blankets just cursed at me when I thumped him, so no, not totally asleep.

 LG:  Tell him to get his ass in gear and get to work.

 TR:  He says his head is exploding and he wants to die.

 LG:  Requesting a sick day, then?

 TR:  I’ll come in instead.

 LG:  Seriously?

 TR:  It’ll be better than listening to Junior puke all morning.

 LG:   I didn’t need to know that. How come you’re all chipper?

 TR:  I drank a bunch of water before I went to bed.  Like you’re supposed to.

 LG:  Hey, did Danny ever show up last night?

 TR:  Nope.  

  July 11, 2020

 LG:  I’m at the dock, which way should I go?

 DW:  Towards the boats.  The big floating things.

 JR:  I can see you, keep going the way you’re facing, then head south when you get to the end of the

row.

 LG:  South?  Sorry, forgot my compass.  

 DW:  Just listen for the music.

 TR:  I can’t believe you know the words to Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. At least my music is relatively current.

 DW:  Grace was just the right age.  It got stuck in my head.  

 JR:  And now it’s stuck in ours.

 <i>TR has changed the name of the group text to</i> <b>Shake It Off Dance Party</b>

 QL:  Be there soon.  Just found Jerry wandering in the parking lot.

 JG:  I wasn’t wandering, I was organizing my gear.

 TR:  What kind of gear do you need for a boat ride?

 LG:  You do realize you are asking Jerry this.

 JG:  By the way, thanks for including me today.  I’ve missed you guys.

 DW:  We miss you too.  But if you could all hurry up, that would be great.  I’d like to leave the dock sometime before it gets dark.

 QL:  Do you guys do a Five-0 summer outing every year?

 TR:  Nope, first time.

 QL:  Really?

 TR:  Yeah, generally we get enough excitement at work.  And Danny has some issues with boats.

 DW:  I actually enjoy boats, when there isn’t any gunfire, or sharks, or poison. I only have issues with <i>Steve</i> and boats.  Steve isn’t here, so we’ll be fine.

 QL:  So much to unpack there.

 JR:  Didn’t Steve set this up?

 LG:  He surely did.  The boat belongs to a friend of his.  I think he thought we all needed some cheering up.

 TR:  You mean he thought Danny needed cheering up.

 DW:  If Steve wanted to cheer me up he wouldn’t have sent me on a boat trip with all of you.

 LG:  Ouch.

 JG:  We may have a slight delay.

 TR:  What did you do?

 JG:  I didn’t do anything.  But Quinn was texting and walking at the same time and tripped.

 DW:  Is she ok?

 JG:  She didn’t fall in the water.  But her phone did, and she’s kind of pissed.

 LG:  Well we’ve got beer, that might help.

 JG:  Now’s she in the water.  She’s trying to find the phone.

 JG:  Quinn can hold her breath for a really long time.  Kind of impressive.

 LG:  For pete’s sake, what’s the point?  She’s never going to find it, and it’ll be ruined anyway.

 JG:  I said the same thing, but she didn’t listen.  Now she’s going to talk to the harbormaster.

 TR:  To report a dropped phone?

 JG: I don’t know, she just told me to wait while she went to talk to the harbormaster.

 TR:  It’s not like we need our phones for fishing.  We probably don’t get service out there anyway.

 DW:  Hardly matters.  At this rate we’re never leaving the dock.

  July 17, 2020

 SM:  Send help to this address ASAP. My phone’s dying.

 DW:  WTF Steve?

 SM:  Tow truck kind of help.  Flat tire.

 DW:  It’s four in the morning here.

 SM:  Oh, sorry.  Got up early. Not that early.

 DW:  Way to give me a heart attack.

 SM:  Sorry, didn’t mean to.  You okay?

 DW:  Course I’m okay.  I’m in bed, asleep.  Or at least I was asleep.  Now Eddie’s awake too and thinks it’s time to get up and go for a walk.

 SM:  Wish I was there.

 DW:  What?

 SM:  In bed, I mean.  Instead of stuck on the side of the road.

 DW:  Where are you, anyway?  You haven’t mentioned lately.

 SM:  Near Yellowstone.  Been camping. Did some hiking into the backcountry.

 DW:  Sounds suitably outdoorsy.

 SM:  Yeah.

 DW:  Your phone doesn’t seem all that dead.  You could have called AAA yourself.  

 SM:  I wasn’t sure how long it would hold out.

 DW:  It’s okay.  I miss you too.

  July 18, 2020

 JR:  So we’re all ignoring that conversation, right?

 TR:  Yes, because we work for them, and we have better things to do today.

 TR has changed the name of the group text to Luau Luau Luau

 JR:  Good to know you’re excited.

 TR:  Just cross your fingers there aren’t any murders in the next six hours. I want to be there when the pig comes out of the pit.

 SM:  You guys are doing a real luau?

 TR:  Yup.  Kamekona dug the imu.  Or had someone else dig it, probably.  But that sucker’s been cooking for hours already.

 JR:  Hey Commander, how’s it going?

 SM:  It’s good, Junior.  Thanks. How’d you get Kame to cook you a pig?

 TR:  It’s to thank Danny for helping him with some kind of permitting problem for his new place in Kapolei.  Kame found out Danny had never done the whole pig in the ground thing, so he decided to show him how it’s done.

 SM:  You’re telling me Danny got up at dawn to put the pig in the imu?

 TR:  I can’t swear to it, I wasn’t there.  But that was the plan.  

 LG:  I was there.  And no, Kame didn’t do any actual digging, he got Nahele and his friends to do it.  We did have to carry some rocks.

 TR:  What do you think, Lou?  Pretty cool, right?

 LG:  I am in favor of anything that combines fire and meat, you know that about me.

 SM:  Danny must not have gotten any sleep at all.

 DW:  That’s why they invented coffee.

 SM:  How much did Kame charge you for it?

 DW:  Nahele brought us all coffee from Island Vintage.

 SM:  What, did he come into some money?

 DW:  I paid him back, you dunce.

 SM:  I can’t believe you guys are putting together your own luau.

 DW:  Makes you miss home, doesn’t it?

 SM:  Sure does.  Danny, you’ve really never been to a luau?

 DW:  Not really.  Seemed kind of touristy.

 TR:  That’s why you have to do it yourself.  I made chicken long rice last night, and Junior’s bringing the lomi lomi salmon.

 JR:  I wanted squid but Tani likes salmon better.

 SM:  Good luck getting Danny to eat squid unless they’re deep fried.

 DW:  I’ll have you know I haven’t had a fried fish in ages.  I’ve been grilling mahi almost every weekend.

 SM:  You have?  That’s awesome.

 JR:  He does a good job with it, too.  It’s never dry.

 DW:  Thanks, Junior.

 SM:  Clearly my healthy eating has finally made an impression on you, Danny. I’m so proud.

 JR:  I think it was his doctor that forced him into it, but whatever.

 SM:  What do you mean?  What’s wrong?

 DW:  Nothing’s wrong.

 SM:  High cholesterol?

 DW:  Shut up, I can eat whatever I want.  I’m just choosing to be more aware of what goes in my mouth, that’s all.

 LG:  Right, that’s why you banned malasadas from the office.

 TR:  Maybe he’s just trying to maintain his girlish figure.  

 JR:  Are you really trying to lose weight, Danny?  Because you’re as thin as I’ve ever seen you.

 LG:  I’m not sure they sell those slacks in extra-slim, you better be careful.

 DW:  Can we please stop talking about me?  

 SM:  Seriously, is everything all right, Danny?  

 DW:  You guys are ridiculous.  See you later at the beach.  You can ogle me there as I stuff my mouth with kalua pork.

  July 21, 2020

 JR:  Tani, you up?

 TR:  You know you can just come home and get into bed with me, you don’t need to say dumb stuff like that.

 JR:  Honestly I just wanted to know if you were awake.  It’s one o’clock in the morning.

 TR: LOL sorry.  Yeah, Quinn just left and I’m trying to clean up.  We tried to make fancy margaritas and it looks like Whole Foods’ fruit section exploded in my kitchen.

 JR:  What’s a fancy margarita?

 TR:  You know, you add in something that tastes good and something that tastes bad.

 JR:  That can’t really be the recipe.

 TR:  It seemed like it.  Grapefruit and rosemary – who wants rosemary in their margarita?

 JR:  Ok true.

 TR:  Strawberry and jalapeno was pretty good though.  But we put too many jalapenos in.

 JR:  Sounds dangerous.  How many have you had?

 TR: A good amount.  When are you coming home?

 JR:  Don’t know.  Adam and I are still parked down the road from the restaurant where the victim died yesterday.  Danny thinks whoever was responsible, the assistant chef probably, will break in tonight.

 TR:  Sounds fun.

 JR:  I’m bored out of my mind.  Ran out of things to talk about with Adam about two hours ago.

 TR:  Let’s play fuck, marry, kill.  

 JR:  Okay.  But let’s text just us, okay?

 TR:  Smart.  Okay, you go first.  Celebrities, fuck, marry or kill.

 JR:  Any celebrities?  That’s kind of broad.

 TR:  Ok, celebrities named Chris.

 JR:  You’re really making me go first.

 TR:  You’re the one who said you were bored.  I could just throw all this crap into the sink and go to bed.  But I’ll go first if you want.

 JR:  Okay.  

 TR:  And obviously no getting mad, right?

 JR:  Obviously.

 TR:  Fuck Chris Hemsworth, marry Chris Evans, kill Chris Pratt.

 JR:  That was fast.

 TR:  I may have thought about it before.  Now you go.

 JR:  Fuck Christina Aguilera, marry Chris Evans, kill Chris Noth.

 TR:  Very enlightened.

 JR:  Everyone wants to marry Chris Evans.

 TR:  Agreed.  Okay, next. Marvel characters.  

 JR:  That’s kind of an overlap, isn’t it?

 TR:  Only with a few of them.  We’ll say no repeats.  You go first this time.

 JR:  Fuck Wonder Woman, marry Black Widow, kill Loki.

 TR:  Sure you didn’t reverse Wonder Woman and Black Widow?

 JR:  Nah.  If I’m going to spend my life with somebody I want her to have some depth, you know?

 TR:  I’ll revisit that when I’m less drunk.  Okay, fuck T’Challa, marry Tony Stark, kill Fury.

 JR:  Fury?  He’s a good guy.

 TR:  I didn’t like the way he faked his death.

 JR:  You confuse me sometimes.

 TR:  I think that’s okay.  Any sign of the assistant chef?

 JR:  No.  And Adam seems entranced by some game on his phone.

 TR:  Animal crossing?

 JR:  I think it’s some kind of card game app.  Jerry mentioned it.

 TR:  Why play cards on an app instead of in person?

 JR:  Maybe because you’re stuck at work at one in the morning.

 TR:  Fair.

 JR:  Okay, let’s do another round.

 TR:  Fine.  Five-0. Present or former members.

 JR:  No way.

 TR:  Come on, you must have thought about it.  

 JR:  No getting mad?

 TR:  Obviously.  And we can’t say each other.

 JR:  Obviously.

 JR:  You go first.

 TR:  Fuck Steve, marry Danny, kill Catherine.

 JR:  Again, you do this really fast.

 TR:  These answers aren’t hard.

 JR:  Didn’t know you hated Catherine so much.

 TR:  She screwed over my imaginary fuck buddy and my imaginary husband, so, yeah.

 JR:  I feel like you know more about this situation than I do.

 TR:  As with all things.  Come on, your turn.

 JR:  This is hard.  And very unprofessional.

 TR:  You cannot leave me hanging.

 JR:  Fuck Quinn, marry Steve, kill Adam.

 TR:  He’s that boring?

 JR:  He’s that boring.

 TR:  You know Danny thinks I’m just like Steve.  In the good ways.

 JR:  I’m aware.

 TR:  You only said Quinn because you couldn’t think of any other women on Five-0, didn’t you?

 JR:  Ok fine.

 TR:  Be honest, who would you pick?  Really?

 JR:  There’s no way you’re getting me to put that in a text.

 TR:  It’s just us, come on.

 LG:  No it’s not.  

 TR:  Oh shit.

  July 22, 2020

 DW:  Ok, regarding last night’s text message fiasco, I’m incredibly disappointed and have no choice but to run this by HR.

 TR:  Wait, we have HR?

 DW:  No, actually.  But I talked about it with Steve and we laughed our asses off.  Try to rein in the sex talk just a bit, okay?  And maybe don’t mention actually killing people in our group text.

 JR:  Sorry, sir.

 TR:  Sorry, boss.

 DW:  And Junior’s right.  Everyone wants to marry Chris Evans.

[sassaetcie]

Silver x Idia (The Molten Charcoal) chapter 6

I genuinely do not know how to schedule what’s going on in my brain, especially since that fic has been over for a while

-I'm sorry, I don't really understand what you said. Though... I know I don't find it awful to hear.

This was one of the numerous neutral ends to be expected for sure. He was too nice to tear my heart apart, and yet not in love. I was probably... lucky in a sense. How could this prince made of alabaster, no, dragging himself, no... climbing a mount of alabaster he had forged by himself... How could he even look at me without being shaken by disgust? I should have swooned for even being looked at and not mocked... No! No... I don't deserve something bad because of them... As long as I... I'm sorry Ortho... Why am I the one living? Why aren't you the one who has lived on... You always have been so lively and outgoing... I'm just... I've always have been like this but... your death made me understood that I wasn't just introvert as fuck... I just hurt everyone no matter what I do...

-That being said... I don't really understand feelings, especially stronger ones like the one you seemed to describe. You really made a line on each of my feature, didn't you? That's praise-worthy. I would like to understand them... with you by my side. We are both lost, this should be easier if one of us suddenly understand. Of course, this only works if you agree with my proposition... I hope I am not being harsh. I don't intend on hurting you.

-H-huh? Does t-t-t-t-t-hat mean you... w-w-want us to meet again? Later? Again?

-Yes, I want us to meet again. I hope I will not fall asleep before, though.

-Oo-o-oh, speaking of this... We may l-look for an... antidote? For your... huh... sleeping troubles... O-only if you want me to h-h-h-help, of course! I would understand if you feel like I'm pitiying you, but I s-s-swear I'm not, I really just want to help even if it's probably some means to only satisfy myself, I'm...

-...It is true that I never truly saw you help other people. That makes me even more curious. Hmm, I will just need some time when Old... Lilia Vanrouge and Sebek are available to watch over Mal... Draconia. I cannot let my guard down, after all. I know nothing happened yet but... It could, probably.

-O-o-o-okay, p-please tell me whenever you a-are ready to s-s-s-s-see me again, t-t-t-hen... You can tell Ortho for sure... I think?

I made sure one ending was pushed away by another strategy. Of course, I shoud stop thinking of this as a endings-crossroad but... My... love for Silver is different, without a doubt. Not especially better, or worse. It's just... not something I can explain with... love. Do I deserve to call this... love, anyway? I could just lack affection to this point or want to make a reality ouf ot fiction. But I need to dream too. If I don't, I'll be... like them, once again. Yet... if I... need to dream and don't dream on my own, I am lying too. But was this "love" invented by adults or non-adults, anyway?

-I see. Thanks for this... date. It was interesting, and I am... glad, I think. That you talked to me with such expressiveness. I wish I could thank my Old Man the way you told me all of these things.

-H-hm... I will n-n-n-n-n-need to first update Ortho's memory... But... we can... maybe? Meet again... Like... huh...

-Well, not during my timetable for sure. I cannot afford to ashame the family, all this stuff... even if I think I really should not. My Old Man is a kind man and I don't want to betray him.

-O-oo-okay... wh-hen do you t-t-think you'll be free... then?

He could have run away using this option. He was the one handling them between these perfect phalanx born from the sea. ...He wasn't the only one, of course. Luck... Luck? Did luck exist to this point... Azul certainly did beat up luck itself. I guess luck is some kind of laziness from myself, lol... Probably only for and from myself... Luck would be reflected differently in this water I see only blue and grey, I guess.

-Hmm... I'll tell you when I am sure my timetable will not change.

Or did he take another ending? Telling one lie to say the truth right after, or the other way round... He could tell two lies, or tell the truth forever. But... doubting him was already a stupid thing to do, actually. I mean, why should I have doubt him? If he didn't like me.. Fine by me... That was what I expected in most cases anyway. But if he didn't tell me he actually couldn't stand me? Then, it was... probably alright. I didn't need to doubt him that much, did I? Or that would mean betraying myself again. Yeah... boring af.

-O-okay! I... huh... hope you'll have a good day...

I can't remember if I really wished from all of my body, from top to toe... Or if it was some formal greeting I tried on him. I guess I wanted him to be happy nonetheless yet did I feel it this way? I can't remember. No feeling has shaken me neither my heart nor my brain. So, was it a kind lie of some kind, or some strange truth? I cannot recall. Or is there anything to be recalled, anyway? Perhaps I cannot reminisce because it never happened in the first place. His icy hair floated outside the shadow, and didn't melt, yeah. His hands of soft mid-water went away with him. His eyes of ocean, he brought them away as well. Or perhaps was he a sailor of some other world in the end? Surely most people were fusing along this ocean and stars, but he wasn't. So was I... somewhere else but some kind of... sailor as well? This sea of feelings was one my eyes I couldn't set on. Or was he... Sure, I wanted to ride over this space of water. See my reflection... my reflection. Maybe seeing this hair... wet. All of these flames, engulfed in some bubbles I couldn't touch... yet? I remembered trying to gather my limbs when Silver was nowhere to be seen. I guess I didn't collapse because no one was there as well... Or at least, my eyes didn't catch anyone as I was getting away from the tree restored to its original role. Apple trees only. No apple was on the ground, or yet at least. None of the red shining was separated from the green shining. They were together... Happy together, right? Somehow. Well, more like because apples were not ripe yet but. As soon at this apple was on its own, it would... live a few days. And rot away. They were... happy together. Unhappy separated. Would I...? Since I was unhappy of... this hair which never had been mine... Could I be... blessed with happiness, visited by happiness, granted happiness, if I were to cut off this blazing "blood"? I... just slept again, once I was back in the heat.

[Started Recording at : 1PM : Eighth ? Day]

-Big Bro! Big Bro! Please open the door, I have some really good news!

-Huuuh? What the... O-o-o-o—ortHO? Did something bad happen but you try to see it as good?!

-No, no, I really mean it! It's a... good piece of news!

-T-Then you can say... it t-t-through the door, right? I'm in the middle of something and I

-You're not! You usually let me open the door even if you're in the middle of a game, don't you? :(

-Ehhh?!

-I'm going in!

The door was not invaded by Hell, no matter what Hell was. No stains invaded the black and white limbs made of illusory obsidian. A superficial obsidian, yet made out of idealism. Five fingers touched the door, even if it could very likely open up by a presence. Nothing burned the prosthesis. Blue and purple lights crossed each other between figures and mangas piled up, whether by chronological order, graphic preferences and reflections, randomness or significance. Yet only these two lights, as full of shades as they are, shared no more shades. A ridiculous prairie-green, a small yellow-sun, a azure-sky, lights... were not used, yet, probably. The heatwave's spirit was sitting on a bed, chained up by his unfortunate owner. The Ignihyde bed was being sat on. The blanket was barely away between the ten asynchronous fingers.

-Were you sleeping, Big Bro?!

-... Y-yeah... I tried to... I was kind... of... exhausted... and my head felt dizzy as fuck so I-I just...

-So that makes two good news today!!!

-I... guess s-s-so... S-s-s-so what... why did... you come here?

The little brother closed the door anyway.

-Silver told me that he was free on tomorrow!

-Huh? W-w-w-w-wait, he's already free?! I-i-I don't mean t-t-t-t-t-t-hat I don't want to see h-h—him and all! Just that... I thought he would... have been longer?

-He told me he was very curious to see you again so he tried to be free as soon as possible! He also told me he was... ahem! "Sorry if I fail to understand your feelings by being too fast when it comes to see you again".

His fingers for sure made the blanket fly some centimeters, then go back to wrapping them. Two phalanx hid before going out again, then replaced by some others. Perhaps would it end when all hands were to be outside or inside. The friction definitely did not throng through his headphone, at least the thing he could handle for sure. Wasn't he choosing which sounds were going back and forth right now? Whether he was confused, happy or sad was hard to see. Or maybe both, actually? One hand disappeared while the other aired him. His hand ventilated him, then. A tight smile pierced the frozen yet burning blue lips, covering a range of shark teeth that didn't fit all of this. He... grabbed one of his other hand.

-Are you alright... big bro? You didn't answer and now you're acting... weird, if I may say so.

-I'm... Uuuuh...! I feel stupid but... This is my hand! And this one too! They're... mine!

-Well... this is your body, so yes.

-I mean... I know! But... m-m-my hands... My mouth feels weird, but not my hands...

-And yet you're smiling, Big Bro? O-o

-I AM?!

Idia raised his arms toward the smile going out of range. Why was it acting on its own, and not his hands? He spread himself in his own fingers, fiddling with the anomaly which was truly one, among the body getting rid of these things. He was made of these hundred anomalies before. So now... there were "these" ones left. But these were only "fixed". The others would probably keep on acting on their own... Or was it supposed to? Some water escaped through two symetrical curiosities, painted blue by some inheritance as well.

-Big Bro, should I tell you that you're crying as well? Are you sure everything's okay? I can tell Silver to postpone the date if necessary... :(

-N-n-n-no! I'm... I'm alright. This is just weird to explain. I'll try to explain to him first and then I'll tell you what the fuck happened... okay? I think. Is that okay? Am I being weird, right now?!

-...Okay so I'll tell him that you're available tomorrow on 6pm?

-Y-yes... t-thanks, Ortho. Where would be the date, though?

-Near the apple tree to "begin with", as he told me.

-"To begin with"?! I... I'm scared now... But I shouldn't, right, right? It's Silver we're talking about, he probably miscommunicated... Like I usually do... 6pm by the apple tree, the one where we met... He will be alone, right, right?

-...well, yes. Why should he be accompanied, big bro?

-I-i-i-I dunno! I just was worried about stuff and... I'm just huh... That's all? I asked everything I had to ask?

-I... guess so! So I'll be off, big bro! Please call me if something goes wrong!

-Y-yes... H-huh! Wait... Did you... have... had some troubles with your memory?

Shroud coerced his hands into forming one, to escape from anxiety or hide something else. The tears were already dried, but surely he would not mind crying again if needed. But maybe not now.

-I don't think so, Big Bro! Please don't worry about me for the moment, let's be sure you end up in a healthy relationship with Silver to ensure you two a beautiful ever-after!

-Are you s

The one who desired to acquire a different type of water, who did not see water as such, put away his feet walking on the ground, flying through the doors opening themselves in the magical technology they knew so well.

-...I guess Ortho didn't want to be updated today... He w-w-w-wouldn't be lying to me, right... right.

[Ended Recording at : 1h15 PM : Eighth? Day]

I didn't really know what to do. I mean, that's obvious I didn't, right... I have one day to gather myself and know what I should expect... But what should I even expect? Will we talk again, like nothing happened? No, right, right? He told me my... hair... comforted him... or did I get him wrong? He's also having troubles to communicate... So... What if he... made a mistake? He may have meant... that the warm flames comforted him, but that the blue hue made him uncomfortable... Or he didn't want to hurt me! He's as anxious as me, maybe...? Or at least he got troubles with expressing his feelings, like me for sure. But it can be in a different way... Maybe in a "normal" way? Perhaps...? He always stated what he wanted to tell me, tho. Or did he... really like it? Does he really like it? Is he fond of it? Does he love it? Does he think it's funny, like probably most of people? Or is he...?! Is he some kind of perverse who likes stuff people usually don't...! No, that wouldn't be some kind of perverse stuff. I mean... if being different is being perverse, I need to wash my fucking brain with bleach, lol. But then... what should I expect? We can't possibly sit again under the same tree and wait for an answer, can we? So... what should I do? No, what should I tell Ortho... Wait, should I tell Ortho first so that he can warn Silver about what I want to do?! Wouldn't I be impatient and selfish, though... I don't want to impose but he may also be waiting for me to suggest something for us to do... Or does he want to know more about myself, too?! Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm... Maybe I should go with something simple, but not too simple, too?! What if... I can't really bring one of my console, huuuh... He could think I just want to listen to him as a lo-fi playlist NONONONONONO?! So games are out of place... and I don't want to bring a board game... he could think the same, even if he plays along... Suff suff suff...! No. So... Maybe... drawing with him? No, no, no way. So many people think it's something we do on our own... and we don't talk much usually, nonononono... But I could also show it to him to prove him that it's a wrong way of thinking and... isn't that twisted? I'm sorry Ortho, I'm sorry... Ain't I going back to where I shouldn't?! SuffocationsuffocationsUFFOCATIONSUFFSUFFSUFFSUFFSUFFSUFF

no no no. That's alright. He may ask me something, or may chose something on his own. I just need to be sure it's something I want to do as well, right, right? No videogames, no games, no drawing... Just speaking won't solve the problem, especially if I don't know how to start a conversation and I can't watch tutorials on Youtube, I'll just sound so phony and all... I mean... the most obvious and... normal thing to do would be to invite him to a karaoke or a thing like this? He probably doesn't sing extremely well... so I shouldn't be too ashamed, right? Well, if he does, that would be dangerous because it could endanger my whole Prince Charming's balance stuff... But if he does? That would just be so cool... Yeah... I should go for a karaoke session... But where should I bring him? I can't possibly bring him to my room... right?

I played some games (mostly RPGs lol) to see if there could a good place for a date but... I don't really want it to turn out like an absolutely planned date? A beautiful woodland, a shore where seagulls are singing peacefully, a town above water and full of falling stars... That would really sound like I'm scheming something... So... maybe my room wouldn't be that weird, actually? As long as I don't lock the door it shouldn't sound weird... If Ortho is telling... No, he's obviously telling the truth. Nobody should try to go in as long as Ortho helps me... How long will he need to help me, though... I'm... already the reason why we were separated... and yet he keeps on helping me. Is it because I made him that way? My guilt will never be enough, I know that... I should at least... go with Silver. I'll be less of a burden for him. He'll be... able to walk on his two legs like he wanted to. So... my room would be the best choice. It won't be a fake fancy place... It won't be an expensive stuff I'll do to show off... It won't a place crowded with people where I will throw up or collapse or go insane or screech or become weird or... SuffSUFFSUFFSUFFSUFF No nononono. Let's not think about this one. I guess it would prove him how courageous and all I am but... I can't do this. My Eloquence skill is far too damaged when I'm among people. So... my room would definitely, absolutely be the best choice... And I should be able to play with the speakers so that he spends a good time... Yeah. We got the best wi-fi as well. I should be able to search for lost stuff if he needs me to... Let's... tell Ortho about this. For the last time, I will tell him something that only shows how selfish I am...

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 3 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 3 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Chapter 1a: Shipwreck and Plot

The Grandalor was a busy ship.  Captain Barad saw to that.  Happiness did not even enter the picture.  His own happiness had been shattered long ago.  Captain Barad did not care about other people’s happiness.

He had been navigating a precise southerly course for many days.  The Grandalor had passed the equator over three days past and was deep into the territory of the Arrakan fleet.  He had done this before.  With the permission of the fleets and ships upon whose home waters he intruded, it was both legal and approved, though such trade contact was not common.  

The Captain of the Grandalor had found a profitable trade, completely legal in the Arrakan fleet but of seriously debatable legality in the Naral fleet that he hailed from.  The sale of human indentures was a dangerously gray area.  Slavery and illegal by both Great and fleet law? Perhaps.  A prepaid labor contract and perfectly legal?  Perhaps.  It had never been tested in the Naral fleet’s Councils.  That element of risk delighted Captain Barad.  

Barad got the people for his trade in the simplest possible way.  On a case by case basis, he took many of those sailors who were not wanted by any other ship, if he thought that they could profit by a last chance.  These people were trained in useful skills, and the reading and writing of Arrakan.  Skilled indenture contracts sold for higher prices than those of ordinary seamen and women.  

Arrakan law strictly regulated the trade.  Most of the price went to the indentured him or herself.  The broker of the deal was allowed only a small profit and certain documented expenses.  After the number of Gatherings set out in the contract had passed, the indentured became a free member of the crew of the Arrakan ship that bought his or her services. Despite the restrictions, the trade was well worth the time and effort.

Almost strangely, it was rare that anyone had to be forced go south to the Arrakans. Many, seeing the rise of their friends over the passing Gatherings, volunteered.  It was a way out for those who wished to get free of the Grandalor.  A fair dice shot at happiness and a new life.

Many of those that he took in stayed and joined his crew.  The quiet disappearance of the others helped to create the Grandalor’s sinister reputation.  Being what they were, the scupper sweepings that none other wanted, the crew kept the trade a secret and reveled in the reputation that it created.

“Sails, Ho!” came the looked for call from the Wide Wing’s nest lookout.  “Dhow rigged, three masts!”

With satisfaction, Captain Barad scanned the horizon and found the ship against a background of high clouds, pebbled in appearance like the hide of a Wing Ray but translucent.  He turned to his First Officer, “That will be the Princamorn, Mister Timms.  We have twenty to go to the Arrakans, and every one a genuine volunteer.  Prepare the hailing drum.”

“Aye, Sir,” replied Timms.  Turning, he sent a cabin-boy to get the watch drummer.  He was interrupted by the lookout.

“They’re in trouble!  Foresail’s down and looks like the mast with it!”

Mister Timms immediately changed his order.  “Benj, for Dragons’ sake!  Have the drummer tocsin ALL HANDS!”  Benj ran.  On Sea, shipwreck was the worst thing that could happen.  The staccato beat of the watch drum called.  The entire crew boiled to the deck as fast as they could run.

Captain Barad strode back and forth as he addressed his crew.  “The Princamorn is apparently on a reef.  These are not strangers to be looted.  We have dealt with these folk for many Gatherings.  Bring survivors to the deck or sickbay as needed.  Galley hands, get food and warm water ready.  These climes are warmer than we are used to but a stretch in the water can still chill severely.

“I need Doctor Corin to select as many as he may need to man the sickbay.  The rest of you stay assembled.  We need to put a fast boat over the side to lead us and help keep reef watch.  Bosun Modanet, see to it!  We will need cutting tools, ropes and pries for salvage work.  Get the equipment on deck!  Prepare all boats for immediate launch.  Get the Strong Skin harpoons ready!  We need to keep the area safe if we can — and we can always use the hides!   Standard bounties apply!

“Mister Timms, I leave the noon sighting to you.  Get me the …” he paused and scanned the heavens, “angles for Dorac and Wohan at noon exactly. Put the raw figures on my chart table.  Do our position if you wish but I will have to convert it for the Arrakan navigational system.”

“Aye, Sir!” he turned to the assembled sailors.  “You heard the Captain!  Jump to it!”

The crew jumped.  It was not long before the Grandalor was laid to about a fourth of a mile from the wrecked ship.  A shallow coral reef prevented closer approach.  Normally it could have been sailed across with impunity but a Dragon tide caused by an alignment of all three moons and the sun had temporarily lowered the sea to a fatal level.  The trapped Princamorn had been sailing over a large area of shallow coral when the Dragon tide dropped the safe sea from under her keel.  

The doomed ship had tried to outrace the drastically lowering tide to the safety of a lagoon.  She had made it — — — almost.  In the supposed safe water she had hit a tall head of coral.  Her foremast and sail were down.  The main mast and mizzen were intact but the main-yard, fractured by the force of the impact, broke and swung on the fabric of its sail, like a scythe.  Without warning, the heavy spar swept through the crew gathered to abandon ship leaving dead and injured scattered across the slanting deck of the wreck.  Cries for help and moans of pain arose in its wake.

Braving the deadly waters in the largest boats that could safely cross the reefs, Captain Barad and First Officer Timms boarded the sinking vessel to direct operations.

The crew of the ill fated ship had done hero’s work in getting supplies, ship’s records and other valuables ready to load.  They kept their heads in spite of the disaster, launching and loading their own boats and taking advantage of every boat that the Grandalor could muster.

The injured were loaded first and gotten to safety.  Children, indentures, women and finally the crew’s men were loaded and dispatched to the waiting Grandalor.

Officers waiting to go last, whether men or women, according to Arrakan tradition, were penned on the deck and in their boats by the Grandalor’s Hailing Drum.  “Wing Ray!  Wing Ray!” it pounded across the distance. Boats in deep water frantically rowed for the ship or the shallows, whichever was closer.  Even from the deck of the Princamorn, Barad could see the big upturned tips of the muscular wings of the enormous predator rhythmically breaking the surface as it cruised past between the Grandalor and the shallow reef.  Fortunately the creature, like a manta ray combined with a whale shark but even larger, covered with an armored hide pebbled with hard bone, and a mouth full of fangs, cruised slowly past.

Bosun Modanet said in grim jest, as the Wing Ray vanished into the distance, “At least we don’t have to worry about Strong Skins or other little fish.  They won’t be anywhere near that brute.”

The rescue continued until all of the living and as many of the dead as could be found were safe aboard the Grandalor.

Making one last sweep of the area for useful salvage, Captain Barad and Bosun Modanet found a woman floating in the sea, still alive but unconscious.  Only landing on some flotsam had kept her from sinking to her death.   Worse than drowning, she had suffered a severe head blow.  

As she was being taken to the sickbay, Grandalor sailors called out, “Kurti!  Captain! She is one of ours, works as a diver when she’s not down in stores! What happened to her?”

“Nae, t’at’s our Tanlin Miken Princamorn,” contradicted some of the survivors.  “We t’ought ‘er gone.  Tried t’ find ‘er after t’e yardarm broke.  Nane saw ‘er in t’e woter.”

“Is her mother Donstar Morn Dannav?” asked a clear voice belonging to one of the Grandalor’s crew women who had been preparing to dive for salvage. Both crews stared.

“They’re as alike as two skelts!  Who’d of thought that one from the Grandalor could look so like one from a completely different fleet!” they marveled.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[chiauve]

Aquarius 22

Wesker settled at the bottom of the room, his tail coiling around a rock protrusion to anchor himself, waiting as Will fussed around with his books and tools. The water had a stale taste to it, any currents winding through these deep tunnels slow to remove the decay and other things, and yet Willful never complained. Wesker couldn’t help but wonder if he even noticed.

Willful was suited for this life. Aside from his genius, he was smaller than Wesker, both in build and length, his maneuverability in the passageways unmatched among the males, and his mongrel heritage made him prone to the occasional bouts of emotion that hindered his ability to interact with most others of his kind. Isolation was good for him. His patterning was dappled reds and pale blues with splotches of white on his dorsal fin. He only had the one, and it was hardly impressive in display. His spines were few and the ones on his tail were smaller. His ears were tapered rather than flared. A noticeable mongrel that made him less desirable to females overall and yet permitted him a freedom Wesker would never know.

And with that freedom and his genius he’d earned the attentions of Favored who married him and now assisted him in all things. A mongrel union that spat in the face of everyone when they produced a daughter.

Willful didn’t insult Wesker by trying to draw blood but instead gestured him to do it himself. Wesker knew this life too well, assumed he too would be chosen for this duty alongside Willful as they’d both shadowed Gleaming for years in his work and Wesker anticipated his ascension in rank and purpose. But the day came and he was charged a scavenger, the disappointment sour in his mouth at the time. Years later and he was glad of it; the lab felt constricting now, smelly and too still and too loud with the sounds of machines and electricity.

Not that Gleaming hadn’t argued in his favor, but then he died and the dead carried no weight in living duty. It was officially an accident but everyone knew otherwise, much like Ford before him.

The People once lived under a representative council, then it dwindled to the oligarchy into which Wesker was born, and now there was only one Ruler.

So scavenger Wesker became, with the special duty to learn human ways and infiltrate them. To save the People and begin for them a new era.

Wesker wanted a nap.

Blood drawn, Willful performed a cursory physical: listening to Wesker’s heart, checking his gills and eyes, and making Wesker spread his fins in full display to check his skin and scales. Then the very unpleasant palpation of private areas and drawing venom from one of Wesker’s tail spines. Just as Wesker thought they were finished Willful grabbed one of his horns and yanked, observing that it neither bent nor cracked. Wesker hissed and tried to bite him; his teeth were bigger than Willful’s. The other aanakellriit wisely kept his distance as he scribbled down his immediate findings.

“Your tail still bothering you?” he asked, more for something to say than due to actual care.

Wesker couldn’t help but flick his uneven tail fin at the mention. “Not for a long time. You know that.”

Willful shrugged. “Anything I need to know about?”

“I had an unexpected shift when I was thrown from a chariot. I had to transform back again less than an hour later.”

That caught the scientist’s attention. “Did anything happen? Anything new?”

“I blacked out briefly. The second time I was in and out of consciousness for a bit.”

He watched Willful’s ink-darkened claw scribble across the page. The claw dug into the plastic-like material to write and the ink darkened the gash, making it more legible.

“Any pain?”

“A lot.”

“Bright,” Willful chided, annoyed. He was not one for vague data.

“The same as a normal transformation, but sharp and allover. I thought I was going to go into shock.”

Willful grumbled, still unhappy with the description but Wesker was not in the mood to go into great detail about being ripped apart on the inside.

“Was it as extreme when you changed back for the night?”

“No, because I didn’t. I stayed human.”

Willful regarded him, interested. “All night?”

“Yes.”

“And throughout the next day?”

“No, I had a spash-about in the Raccoon City pool before lunch.”

“Bright!” Willful snapped, eyes glowing. He was truly so easy to goad, always had been.

“Yes, all day. I was human for four tide turns.”

��You’ve never been human for that long. No one has in recent memory,” he started writing furiously, his fingering flickering across the tablet. He crushed the squid he kept in his palm and dipped his claw in the mess for more ink. “Any side effects?”

“Exhaustion. I woke up in pain but I think that was from sleeping in the back of my akhlut. Blurry vision by mid-day that came and went. Irritability.”

“No that’s just you...” Willful muttered.

Wesker’s gills flared and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are we done? I haven’t been able to shake that exhaustion and I’ve come home to rest.”

“I’ll do the bloodwork and see if anything stands out. Otherwise fine. But come back in two tide turns, sooner if you’re still feeling off.” He shut his book and eyed what could have once been considered his childhood friend, “Did Ruler approve your return?”

“I’m almost out of essence of the sun,” Wesker growled, “his approval is meaningless in this case.”

“Don’t say that when you see him next.”

Wesker scrubbed his face. “That would be now. I’m going to go report. Bad enough I have to go as I am...I look like a laborer...” he groused, referencing his lack of adornment.

“No pureblood is a laborer, the fact you were made a scavenger was shocking enough.”

“But necessary, considering.”

“I suppose. Now get out, I have work to do. The G virus is finally making progress.”

Willful had been saying that for a long time. Wesker wondered how much longer Ruler would tolerate the delays. “And the T virus?”

“Yes yes, you’ll have it. Go.”

Wesker uncoiled from the rock and swam upwards, pushing aside the heavy door and returning to the large cavern. He passed the containers humming at the bottom and couldn’t help but look.

The experiments with the essence of the Stairway of the Sun and its derivatives were both ghastly and beautiful. Warped dolphins and sharks, made strong and violent, now dead in their tubes and awaiting dissection. Three dead humans, one just as magnificently enhanced while the other two were from Chief Irons. Safely kept away as promised but also ready to make a sudden reappearance on shore should the fat human decide to step out of line.

In this Wesker couldn’t help but anticipate what possibilities G would have. Wesker’s superior intellect was without question but there was no loss of pride in admitting that Willful surpassed him in that. He swam into the passage and back down through winding tunnels int the deep.

Turning south, the passage ended and opened into the vast forum that was the center of the People’s home. Faint light filtered down upon carved stone that once was detailed and shining but now was dull and covered in growth and life, eternally breaking it down as they latched and fed and died. Soon it would fade.

Still the forum was in use, the occasional bright form of an aanakellriit streaking across the floor. Past the forum the rocky shelf rose up again, a large cavern opening up back into the earth. Here did the People gather, in a sense. Engrossed in their duties they paid little mind to anything else. In the center of this grand cavern was a pillar and Wesker followed it upward.

Another door grate blocked the entrance to a set of passages above, but this time there was no lever. Wesker wait to be acknowledged and then given permission to enter from a guard.

These passages were not ravaged by time and neglect. The stone walls were smooth and polished with carved, colorful figures telling tales and history as Wesker swam by. He once would study them, feeling them under his fingers and learning their meanings, but they meant little now. Just aesthetics of abandoned belief.

Finery guided his way, gold and precious metals embedded in the wall, string and beads floating above and shining surface items tastefully placed in every nook and corner.

The world of the People crumbled around them but Ruler remained in his polished, shining lair.