#they barely get any fish from their ports

[bronzebtch]

again, another useless headcanon....... rhea likes sweets.

[ilovejeongintoo]

𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕤𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟 ℙ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕤

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Fantasy, Siren Wooyoung x Reader, Smut Warnings: Implied hunting, obsessive behaviour, slight stalking?, accidental marriage, harassment(not Wooyoungs doing), technically murder(only mentioned as disappearing), edging, no condom(wrap it up pls), creampie, accidental marriage Wordcount: 4052 Not proofread

One of my other Moodboards that got me cooking up a story.

Summary: Stumbling upon a mysterious new stall that you've never seen before, the merchandise seem to be almost as enchanting as the owner.

The sun has been shining so brightly the past few days that you barely spent anytime outside, rather choosing to stay in the shade. You were mentally thanking yourself for wearing a light dress that covered you but had a light tone to it, you would not survive this weather otherwise.

Today would be the day that the flea markets at the port would open. Just barely ten minutes and not even at the main market, you started seeing various stalls, primarily selling fish and cloth. You stopped on occasion to look at a few items but quickly put them back when you looked at the price.

Moving further in you saw more and more. A few familiar people called out to you, and you replied with a friendly smile and wave. You leaned further into one of the stalls, the shells in your hair making a few soft clinking sounds when they jostled with the movement.

A voice to your right called out to you: "looking for something specific muse?" You looked over seeing a handsome man leaning over the wooden table. The surface was riddled with lots of jewelry but what immediately caught your eyes were the colored shells and various pearls.

"Something like this actually." You pointed over to the assortment. Your eyes keeping themselves locked onto them, fascinated. You noticed him standing up slightly, looking a lot taller than you thought. Your eyes focused on the different silver rings on his hands, moving up to his wrists was a singular silver armband. Further his white shirt was pushed up towards his elbows giving you a look at his veins. You quickly snapped your eyes up, hoping that he hadn't noticed your staring.

The next treasures that you were captivated by were his sharp eyes, dark that seemed endlessly deep.

By his bright smile, he didn't notice you guessed. You looked over the stall now, simpler than the others, clearly new in the port.

"You're new here, I basically know all little businesses here." You said in a matter-of-fact tone. You'd definitely remember a face like that, especially hair that special. Upper half being black, and underneath was a bright shade of blonde.

His smile was still there, teeth on display "Yeah, I'm here just for today. Kind of traveling through here, getting my own stocks and then heading off again. A traveler? You didn't get many visitors at Lumora Bay, the place wasn't even in scripted into some maps, plus there wasn't anything to see here, so no reasons for any tourists. Your curiosity got the best of you "Really? Where are you heading to next?” This wasn’t a place for tourists really. You noticed some glances from locals being thrown at the mysterious man, he was definitely catching some attention.

"I'm just traveling through the ocean, they just take me anywhere, that's why I'm here now, I'm planning to get some rations with the money from these"

A lone sailor? Now that was even less believable than him being a tourist. He didn't look the part, his clothing clearly of higher quality, Dark pants, white shirt and in the back, you could see a brown jacket. His shoes shone a little too much for someone that was traveling a lot, practically reflecting the sunshine.

"The prices depend on what you want and how good you're gonna take care of my treasures." Honestly everything looked like something you've always wanted, though you were sure any of these you wouldn't be able to afford. The job at the local tavern only got you so much.

One item did catch your eye from the beginning, and you kept stealing looks at it, trying to figure out its realness. Clearly the owner of said thing also noticed and picked it up, his big hand enclosing it. He stretched his hand out to you "This one, right? It's also one of my favorites, haven't really found a new owner yet."

A ring with a crescent moon

You have never seen anything similar to it, everything looked like you could find somehow, but that ring was special. It looked so bright even if it’s made of silver, matching his rings immediately.

"You can take a closer look if you want" he gestured to his hand with his head. You took it into your hand, your fingers brushing his palm and noticing the cold feeling of his skin. He pulled his hand back. You pulled it onto your finger and inspected it closer, it was real silver, polished to perfection giving it a smooth surface the little moon part glittering nicely because of a few stones attacked to it, which you only just took notice of.

You looked up, his eyes meeting your instantly, he must have been looking at you for a while. "What do you think? Wanna buy it?" You bit your lip thinking about it. "How much would it be?" You really wanted to give him the right amount of money, the kind of amount that this kind of treasure deserved. It had almost a hypnotizing aura to it.

"Well, I do get my materials out in the sea, so it'll be a little pricey…” You almost sighed right there.

"-But I think it fits you perfectly, so I'll let you keep it, he smiled, for a second it almost looked a little scary.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head planning to take it off when his hand shot across the table holding yours. It was unusually soft. "Keep it, I mean it." He looked serious and he squeezed his cold hand slightly before pulling back. "Oh-Okay, yeah thank you." You couldn't form any real sentences from the happiness that bubbled in you.

"There's only a single one of those in the world, I made it, there's a slight engraving of my initials on bottom."

You held your hand slightly up, your eye level and turned your hand making you palm face your visage. Low and behold, there were two small, curved letters Y.W.

"Yang Wooyoung, that's my name if you were wondering about the maker of that masterpiece." He must be a god at reading your mind because he has done so multiple times now. You felt slightly bad about leaving him without any payment for the ring though, so you thought for a moment before a thought struck your head.

You pulled a one of your bracelets off, seashells that you've found, assorted on a small metal chain. It was colorful, almost looking childish in comparison to his whole wardrobe.

"Here."

You held your hand out, expecting him to take it. If he didn’t want you to pay with money you would trade, it lifted the guilt of taking something precious from him off your shoulder a bit.

He seemed stunned. You had a stubborn look to you, not planning on being persuaded on not paying at all. another dark look crossed his face but staying as he took the gift. Pulling it over his wrist. He stood there silently observing me, almost predatory. I shivered at the idea. A loud voice ripped you out of your busy mind. You startled and spun around, regretting it right after your eyes landed on the person yelling. Motherfucking Zephyr Darkhart, notorious troublemaker known for taking whatever he wanted from the helpless locals. And also, someone that wanted to get into your pants for the past year or so.

And it appears as if your sunny day was about to be put into a cloud of darkness because he also spotted you and started walking towards you. Hoping that he didn't actually see you quickly made your way behind the table to Wooyoung squatting down, hoping that somehow, he would just walk past or something.

You knew it wasn't working when you heard big heavy footsteps kick up some dirt right in front of you.

Wooyoung was next to you, confused expression now on his face at your panicked state. He faced the man in front with the fakest customer service smile you've ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Zephyr's voice called me out of my hiding spot. "Now what do we have here? Is that also for sale." He motioned to me on the ground. Some of his henchmen in the back chuckled at the comment, they were the only one finding this amusing.

Before he could make up another one of his asshole comments Wooyoung interjected, now cold faced. No grin to see for miles, you felt goosebumps rising at the tension.

"No."

"Hey buddy, what's that look for? the only reason why you even get your materials for the trash that you're selling here is because of us, because of big, strong men that venture out onto the dangerous sea. You wouldn't survive a single day with all the little sirens out there." Wooyoung wasn't the slightest bit intimidated, the opposite actually, this part now, he found quite amusing.

He leaned forward accentuating his coming statement; "Last I heard, your ships got sunken because of the same "little" sirens."

You couldn't see his face from down here, but clearly, he was looking intimidating enough for the group of men to stumble back slightly. They hesitantly made their exit, after what you presumed was another look of Wooyoungs.

Zephyr didn't step away without getting his last words out to Wooyoung in a threat, that was more pathetic than anything. "You'll regret this." He stole a glance at you and turned and walked away rather briskly.

You finally got up from your seated position, letting out a relieved sigh and tuning to the man next to you. "I'm so sorry, the only reason he came over here was because he saw me." You pinched the bridge of your nose, frustrated that it had to come to a confrontation. "It's fine, I'm glad you're okay, I bet he wouldn't have hesitated to make you one of his victims if you were alone." True, Zephyr should be avoided at all costs, especially when you're alone, the man doesn't know how to take a damn hint.

You didn't feel Wooyoung caressing your upper arm to give you some semblance of comfort, until now.

"Yeah" the air was beginning to fill with a different kind of tension now but before you could explore that any further someone called him over, demanding his help.

He pulled away slowly, or you just thought it was because of how hyper aware you were of his touch.

He stepped away walking to the 3rd voice of the day that disrupted you. He turned after a few steps he spun back around looking at you hopefully. "If you want, later, in the evening, I'll be at the beach selling some stuff and probably relaxing, so… if you want to talk a little." "Yeah" You gulped. "I like the sound of that." You were slightly breathless, nodding and gulping another time.

He grinned that same smile, "Good, I'll be waiting little muse." Were you really going to meet him later? A stranger you just met. You looked back at the ring and then at the disappearing back of Wooyoung. Absolutely you were.

The time couldn't move fast enough for you. Waiting for it to pass, you kept catching yourself watching the clock on the wall. Right across your bed. When the clock hit 9 p.m. you deemed it late enough for you to go Wooyoung. The sky turning a deep dark blue hue, reminding you of him.

Your thoughts seemed to be constantly infested with him, from the moment you met him, luring you in slowly. Your feet touched the soft sand that was cool now, having taken off your sandals.

You were looking around for Wooyoung not seeing anyone on the beach. You looked out into the vast ocean, shiny, peaceful. You kept looking from side to side, hoping to catch sight of the pretty man. You heard a splash looking to the directions of a nearby cavern but before you could go to that direction you were stopped by a iron grip on your wrist, hurting.

Rough hands, not Wooyoung's hands.

"Well, aren't I a lucky man?" And you were hoping you got yourself enough of this guy for the whole year, your nerves really weren't prepared to deal with him a second time. You glared at him despite it probably being smart if you just tried to deescalate the energy here.

"Let go" He raised a brow. "Please just let go." He didn't seem too keen on just letting you off the hook after the stunt from today morning. His crew laughing at him after practically running away from a dude half a head smaller than him.

You cried out slightly when his grip tightened, surely leaving a bruise and then it suddenly disappeared in the next second. You had your eyes closed, so you didn't catch him falling into the water. Or rather being yanked into it.

You looked around, slightly rubbing your already sore wrist. Then you noticed a ripple in the slow waves, a dark shadow moving close to the surface. You moved closer, trying to get a better look as to what’s moving there. You saw a big tail but that was about it. Maybe an abnormally large fish. Though that didn't explain Zephyr falling in, which you were slightly getting worried for, despite him being an ass, he was still a person.

Then suddenly and slowly there was a head peeking out the water, dark familiar cookie two-colored hair looking even longer because its wet now.

And those same eyes.

You moved closer, captivated and curious to confirm your suspicions of the identity of the person.

You leaned forward your feet sinking into wet sand and getting your feet into the shallow part of the water. The shape started to move towards you but stopped a fair distance away.

So, you moved even further getting your dress wet and making it slightly see through. You slipped on a wet rock and dipped underwater for a quick second, but that was enough time for you to see the big, scaled tail attached to a very human torso. You knew what this meant, what he was, a siren. And that also meant that you would die right here.

You swam up to the surface again, desperate to get some air into your quickly emptying lungs. You gasped a little for air, being all the way out here made it impossible to see through the water and make out anything anymore. You didn't have to wait for long and the presence made itself known again now from your back though, it wrapped itself around you. Naked arms and the same rings as before. Then he whispered "surprise" into your ear, and it confirmed everything.

He wrapped himself around you tighter, in a restricting or comforting manner you couldn't tell yourself. Being in the water and having your ability to fully move your body was making you nervous and most of all Wooyoung made you nervous now, for multiple reasons but mainly for what was about to happen next.

He moved your wet hair away from your face, behind your ears. "You know I was surprised when you even came to my little stall, the whole being human thing isn't really my cup of tea. But the most surprising part is having you pick, my self-made ring." You gripped his strong arms to ground yourself a little, high on the nerves.

"Are you going to drown me? Eat me?" It felt a little ridiculous to ask him so directly but if he did it you'd rather just know it now. At that he pressed himself into the back of your head, laughing into your hair. "No, no I'm not gonna drown you. But I wouldn't mind taking a taste from you" You couldn't quite make out if he was talking about what you were thinking of or not. Your core pulsed at the thought that he did. You were feeling warmer despite the cold water.

"I've got a special plan for what we'll do from now on.”

We?

He moved slowly over to the direction of the cavern from before, big rocks hiding what seemed to be large entrance to an open water cave.

He let go slightly and you gripped him tighter at the feeling. He softly laughed and pushed you to the edge of the little pool like area. Making you sit on the ledge, your dress and hair dripping with all the water that it sucked up.

Wooyoung moved slowly up to you, giving a clear view of his naked torso through the water. He sat himself on a ledge that's submerged in the water right where your feet stayed. He then moved closer propping his arms crossed on top of your legs while his head rested on your knees. He tilted his head, making him look far too innocent while looking up at you, it made you urge to pat over his now messy hair. Which you resisted.

You'd rather focus on anything besides the man in front of you, so you choose to take in your surroundings. Some plants were hanging from the ceiling, some moonlight shone through the entrance but what caught your attention next were the light white candles off to the side. And then the various furs and other souvenirs cluttered around, in one place was a big pile of furs almost looking like a makeshift bed.

Was he living here? Off to the side you could even spot some metal and shells, that's probably where he made some of the jewelry that you saw.

Wooyoungs head buried itself a little more into your legs, making you look at him again. He looked cute like this, small, harmless. The tail swishing behind him moving back and forth reminded you that he most definitely wasn't. He closed his eyes savoring the feeling of your body warmth in contrast to his.

His arms moved to the side of your legs, and he picked his head up, looking down. You were truly captivated by every movement, he looked different in the water, almost a mystical air around him. He looked up, feeling your stare on him. "Why did you bring me here Wooyoung?" You asked in a more serious tone than what was probably necessary.

He squeezed you a little at the question. "When a siren makes a treasure and it gets accepted, it means to marry someone. What do you think that ring that I gave you means?" You didn't really get what he meant by that, what does siren courtship have anything to do with…oh. Your eyes widened "No, wait what." You were so confused, scrambling with your hands a little not knowing what to do. "We're married now, so obviously I took you back to my home." He spoke as he took your one hand, putting it on his cheek, rubbing his thumb along the back.

"We belong to each other now, muse." He dragged your hand down to his still dripping chest, right on top of his heart. You felt it thumping rather loudly, pushing against your palm.

"And you know what married couples do? -" He leaned up slightly brushing his cheek with yours, making you instinctively close your eyes. "-they make love." He kissed your neck. "They make babies."

You were expecting something like this to happen but not exactly in this context. You were expecting some sex with the hottie at the port, who was very friendly and likeable, not marrying him and spending your "first night" together. In a cave to top that all off.

He moved along your neck planting kisses anywhere he could and sometimes sucking a dark mark onto your skin. A reminder for this night, that would no doubt keep your mind occupied. Your panties were soaked and not just with water it seemed. Your hands buried themselves in Wooyoung's hair, pulling him away from you. And when he was back to facing you, you locked your lips with his. In a gentle soft kiss. Wooyoung immediately took the chance to deepen it, tilting his head and pressing himself closer to you.

He pulled himself out of the water pushing you onto the cushioned floor that had the fur pile. You didn't even notice his tail transforming into legs, too busy kissing him back with all your energy.

He pulled your strapless dress down your body, your boobs making an appearance. He settled his hands over them, massing them making you let out small noises into his mouth. As he pulled the dress further down after a moment of playing with your tits, exposing your underwear he was stuck staring at it.

So, he went over it with two of his fingers, tracing lines along it and stimulating your nerves deliciously. Not even two seconds later he pushed those also down to get full access to your core. He kept glancing between you and your pussy when he pushed his fingers in to prep you. Thrusting in and out at a steady pace getting you wetter and wetter with each thrust.

Your noises became more vocal as he hit that one spot inside you, making you squirm a little, your hips bucking to meet his fingers. He smiled at that.

Just when you were about to hit your climax, he stopped completely. That heat and tension simmering down a little making, even more when his fingers left you, getting a whine out of you. You felt terribly empty now.

"Wooyoung." You started not even knowing what to say to get him back to abusing your cunt. You didn't have to wait long because he was already lining himself up with your hole, tip waiting patiently at your entrance. He coated himself slightly in the slick.

"Yes muse?" He was waiting for you to say something now. Well fuck it. You locked your legs around his waist and pulled him forward, making him sink into you with a groan. Your arms wrapped around his neck making him lean down and putting his hands on your hips. "Fuck me Wooyoung, please." You said next to his ear a bit desperately.

You missed the dark look that settled over his face, his grin turning more evil. Wooyoung has been waiting for this moment since forever, today definitely wasn't the first day seeing you. He made sure to get your attention today.

And now, he clearly got what he wanted. You wrapped around his finger. He moved his hips, canting them slightly up to hit that spongy spot again. The slide was so incredibly wet he was struggling to keep the same rhythm at your pulsing cunt.

The noises, god the noises were heavenly, better than anything he imagined before. The fantasies didn't compare to the real thing. You were quickly getting closer to that edge, having been left without a release a few moments ago. Your breaths grew harsher against Wooyoung, your grip tighter and your legs clasped harsher around him. You weren't even thinking about the consequences of letting him do it raw.

Way too much in your head to make any smart decisions right now. When you felt Wooyoungs long fingers return to your pussy, on your clit. You were coming undone so fast. He kissed you through it, addicted to the taste of your lips and dragging it out as much as he could.

When you were started coming down your pussy still fluttered when Wooyoung was still thrusting, wanting to get to his own release. It came a moment later, his hips stilling in you and spilling his warmth into yours with a loud moan.

He caressed your hips slightly, pulling himself out of you. That made you wince, feeling a lot emptier than before, after having him filling you up for so long.

You also felt something pouring out of you, but you were too lazy to care. Just tired. The last thing you heard and felt before passing out was Wooyoung's voice and touch.

A pat to your hair, settling a fur over you. And his voice so low that you almost didn't hear it.

"We will stay together from now on, my little muse."

[hitlikehammers]

PART ONE: Fail-Pirate!Eddie/Castaway!Steve (Pirate AU)

🌊Under the Water (Our Hearts Will Dream Again)🌊

Chapter One: Man Overboard

You’ve gotta understand: the truth about Eddie?

He’s shit as a pirate. Like: an absolute disgrace. Of all the bad names associated with the trade, if trade is what it can be called?

He might just give it the worst.

So, y’know. That’s nice.

Like, he knows his knots, he is excellent with his hands thank you kindly, and he ties those motherfuckers like a pro, too! So what if he just sometimes confuses his hitch for his stopper, they’re both knots, they both do the job of knotting.

(Mostly. They only lost a boat the one time.)

(As in lost-lost, not the ones that were retrieved in time but landed Eddie on scut anyway.)

Which doesn’t touch on his absolutely abysmal record at the looting end of things. He doesn’t mind taking from the well-off, but he does mind adding it to the ship’s take every time they make land; he maybe lies about how bad he is at the stealing, the all-important plundering of the job, because he ends up finding the people outside the center of town at every port, the ones who line the edges and he drops what he takes with the ones who need it there, where they can’t escape on the water, can’t live in motion on the whims of the waves and find their needs in the flux of a life unanchored.

So he’s not the worst thief, for the right victim. But his spoils never make it back to the ship so: it probably makes him pretty shit at the job to hand, in the end, either way. Add a mark to the tally.

And then, gods: don’t get him started on the taking of…other things. Who aren’t things, they’re fucking people and they deserve respect not…what the other people sailing under his colors seem to believe them useful for instead.

Eddie’s been sick over the edge of the stern, hidden by shadow even if it’s unnecessary because fuck, the rest of the crew is full-occupied with their plundering, and that’s the reason he spews over in the sea, the waves always feeling a little extra angry for his pollution of their waters and that’s fitting. It’s fitting that he’s defiling something sacred with the weakness of his stomach—but not his soul, not his morals or his sense of humanity, fuck’s sake, so: at least there’s that.

He guesses.

Admittedly, though: Eddie doesn’t care so much that he’s a shitty fucking pirate. It’s not piracy that led him here, that charted this course for his life.

It’s the Ocean.

Which, sure, that may strike either cliche or obvious, too soft and poetic or else just downright pointless to underscore because he made a conscious choice to live at Sea, especially given the laundry list of reasons he’s absolutely abysmal at the life-on-the-water thing. But it is the truth. The best and biggest truth he’s ever known, rooted deep enough to fuel his steps and guide his path to here, right here, being exceptionally bad at luring fucking fish in a tiny little dinghy that the crew who hates him decided was perfectly fitting for the anticipated catch and okay, fine, if you were going to base expectations off of prior performance then maybe, and also, also maybe being here, ending up precisely right here—laughingstock of his profession, maligned by his crew, foisted upon barely-a-boat to catch barely-a-fish because y’know what, he’d have become a goddamn fisherman in the fucking first place if he was any good at that—but maybe right here, like this would look like failure to anyone else, to everyoneelse but, y’see—

Eddie Munson was a boy, once.

And he remembers, crystal clear, from the touch of his mother’s hand on his shoulder to the smooth slide of the menacing-but-magical looking shell, with its pointy end for tiny hands to grasp and hold to, and it’s big spiky cone of a head to hold to his own, up against his ear as his mother guided his elbow up and whispered just listen, you’ll hear the ocean tell you its secrets—and he loved the ocean, loved the feeling of the soft foam of the tide on the hidden sands far from the harbor, loved the little creatures that scuttled in and out of the water when the waves crept up, loved the hint of a big fin, maybe real or maybe just imagined something that big, that dangerous, that beautiful breaching the horizon: Eddie wanted to know all the ocean’s secrets.

And when he’d held the shell of his ear, he’d heard them: whispered close and roared fierce alike and he’d felt weightless, giddy; just just floating.

Magic, like the shell in his hands.

And it didn’t matter when his father found him years later, stumbling drunk from the tavern where he spent money they couldn’t afford, finding Eddie with the conch pressed tight to his ear, almost too small now as he’d grown but still desperate for the secrets, the sound of the waves that seemed to reach out and know when they needed to break louder, faster to drown our the shouting, to wash over the way his father had hauled him up and thrown the shell to break a window and sneered your idiot secrets, boy, there’s no ocean in that fucking shell, s’the echo of your own coward heart that you hide in, there, stupid fucking—

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter, not because Eddie got knocked to the floor much like his shell, after; not because it made a kind of sense, because if the secrets of the ocean were the mirror of his heartbeat then of course they were faster and louder when his father came home drunk, sometimes he chest got sore over how his heart raced on those nights; and not because when he finally gets his feet back under him, when his father’s wood-sawing snores signal the coast is clear and he can creep out and search in the dark for his shell and find it, cracked from the spin of the handle-like bit so he just has to cradle the wide bell careful in his palm and ignore the slice of the spires into his skin, ignore it for the sake of finding, finding—

The waves. The secrets. His own heartbeat like the thunder in a storm and it doesn’t matter because if that sound is his own heart, then, then it’s like the ocean’s secrets are in his own chest, a little.

Like if the ocean had a heartbeat, there’s something of it pressed inside his own.

And for all that his father tried to whip that wonder away from him, straight out of his hands? That reality is somehow more magical. And Eddie’s been drawn to the pulsebeat of the sea—devoted, even, almost like a lovesick longing—ever since, so.

Failing at pirating, including the fishing part? Isn’t a failure.

Because he’s on the Sea. And that’s all he’s ever really wanted.

It’d help his pride if he got like, one fucking fish, though. Even a tiny one. Though they’d probably mock him worse for a minnow than for nothing so: small mercies, maybe, that he’s pulling up untouched bait.

Still he sighs, and takes a moment, rakes his gaze over the setting sun on the water—they’re far enough out now that there’s no sight of land, just the ripples nearby that smooth into pure water stretching aft and aft further out and Eddie doesn’t have a shell but if he presses his hand to his chest and over his ear at once it’s almost, almost—

He both hears and feels his pulse jump, like the secret is a warning, and he believesthat’s it’s both because it’s the only explanation for the way he turns, at that precise moment that the water moves uncannily agitated, and lifts up something weighty, a heavy shadow, and—

“Man overboard!” Eddie’s voice cracks as his hands reach for the oars and he rows before he thinks because the Ocean told him to look—and maybe it’s childish, and foolhardy, and a silly winsome fantasy he should have left behind ashore long again but…

He can’t tell if the man—because it’s a man, indeed, he can tell now that the water has calmed, and how else to explain its sudden surge to command Eddie’s attention, to call him in close and then ease the way to the waterlogged body—but Eddie can’t tell if the body moves at all save at the water’s own whim, can’t see yet if the flesh is too pale or worse, too blue, and—

“Man overboard!” he cries out with feeling, now; he’s far from the ship but not so much that no one will hear screaming if not yet discern the words and he just needs them to know, needs them to be ready, especially if it’s somehow one of their own and he just repeats it, too of his lungs, shrieks it to the sky as he reaches the man’s form, facedown in the water, and that alone seizes in Eddie’s chest—why tell him a secret if it’s only a heartbreaking one, yet he cannot, will not be picky, he will never reject the confidences of the Ocean no matter how it chooses to disclose its mysteries, even its tragedies; he curses his crewmates for the pitiful size of his little vessel, a joke upon his lacking hauls but now he has need for size and sturdiness as he reaches for the body—broad and leant further mass by the water itself and far more precious than a hundred fish for feeding and for trading, this is a life and he strains to balance the boat and heave the man aboard so not to capsize them both and leave the circumstances worse for his help—

“Man,” he manages to screech before he tumbles back, but with the man in his arms to drag along into the dinghy and he knocks his own breath a little for the fall but the man’s here, and they’re upright, and Eddie scrambles on his knees toward his new charge and he—

Should not have wasted time trying to steady his lungs, really, because this man, on his boat, dragged from the waters, he, he is—

He’s absolutely breathtaking.

Eddie gapes at him, at the play of the sunset on his soaked hair, his skin—pale, but not blue, not dead yet—he is stunning even like this, what unimaginable beauty must be possess when he’s not—

Oh hells, yes, right; he—

Eddie probably needs to fucking check if the breathtaking man is breathing, before he contributes to losing something at sea far more precious than an improperly-knotted boat.

>>>CHAPTER TWO

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme

divider credits here & here & here

🌊ao3 link here

[choco-cherry-chunk]

Omg, I adore this @sablehaven ! I can play with both of these in either context.

In the context of the show, I lowkey adore the idea of Izzy being entirely put off of meat due to the toe stuff with Ed. Which is obviously not great on a pirate ship. But he doesn’t want to explain why or even admit it because, to him, it is weak. But it’s isn’t great for his health. He loses a ton of weight at first, which worries not just his partners, but the crew. They all remembered how shit Izzy looked after losing his leg, but now he looks fucking awful, gaunt and sick and exhausted. And it’s like he can’t eat anything. While all of them try to some degree, offering what they can, it’s as if Izzy’s suddenly become one of those ladies from the novels Stede likes -“of weak constitution”, he called it. Everything he’s offered has him heaving into a basin or over the side of the deck. It was a little funny at first, that “Dizzy Izzy” was back full force. But now, Stede’s heart breaks whenever he tries to offer the man even a morsel of bread or broth and he rolls away, unable to even muster the energy to get out of bed. And Ed is frantically trying to figure out if they’re missing something, trying to find out any possible ingredient Izzy could stomach, even the most random shit. Raw sugar? Uncooked fish? Fucking sand!? Was there anything—

But then one evening, Izzy is sitting in Stede’s library, nails digging into his hair as he has his face pressed into his hands. He is so fucking tired and sick and starving and nothing is helping and he’s failing his baby and the only reason he isn’t crying is that he’s so fucking dehydrated… he finally sees a book left on the table, the pages open to a still life of some goblets, some flowers, some— he’s moving as best he can manage to the ladder, not even caring that he may be waking others. Instead, he rips open barrels, cabinets, anything, until he comes upon an orange. He’s not even careful on opening it to save the flesh, he just tears into it and very much does cry when he finds he can stand it.

Roach is the one to find him, several massacred peels around the floor. He doesn’t even argue. Hell, he’d privately made it something of a persona mission to figure out what the man would eat. He shows him how to get the most out of different fruits and develops a list of what they need to secure when they next make port. Izzy is beyond relieved, as are his partners.

Meanwhile, in the context of my historian/restaurateur/novelist Steddyhands AU, I think Izzy would still have food aversions, but we can just think of cravings for the lightness of things! Izzy starts getting frustrated with his cravings when he gets them, mostly because he can’t determine exactly what they are. He knows they’re specific and he’s admittedly a bit embarrassed to admit to pregnancy symptoms at all, mostly because his partners dote all over them. But finally, Ed notes how often Izzy’s looking almost longingly at certain restaurants and finally proposes to Stede and him that they have a night there. Izzy tries not to appear thrilled.

It’s some vaguely upscale burger place and Izzy’s looking at the menu like it’s a fucking manual and both his men are lost. Didn’t Izzy want this? Ed said he— only for Izzy to give in and admit he’s been craving something meaty and greasy like this for a while, but there’s some additional element that he can’t identify and it’s driving him mad, which makes him feel even more insane because who gets this frustrated about a fucking burger!? Only for both Ed and Stede to so kindly offer suggestions, ask questions, pick apart possibilities until they figure it out. It ends up being some massive normal burger but Stede privately pops out to a nearby grocer for peanut butter and sour plum jam, and Izzy fucking demolishes it, only pausing to find both husbands staring at him all fucking besotted. He’s stuffing his face with something disgusting, has sauce in his goatee, is barely concealing his growing gut in his jacket, why the fuck do they look so fucking in love!? Well— 😉😉

[kaihuntrr]

part twelve: watched.

Welcome to Crescent Bay! ...Why is everyone so silent...?

god unrelated to the fic but somehow grian, gem, and pearl are fish/fishing/ocean themed in season ten what the HELL am i just good at predicting things or-- (pls will i be getting the motivation to draw them. it would be SO funny. i still need to draw pirates scott and sp scott im so silly)

Dark, heavy clouds loomed over the island as harsh winds blew against Martyn. The island was unlike any island he’d ever seen before. The bright, bustling, and sunny port he and the Canaries called home felt like a distant memory. The streets here were sparse with both light and people. Windows were either shut or boarded up, and there were barely any ships in the port. The people who were outside were staring at the hunters as if they were ghosts.

Joel, Scar, and Bdubs left the ship first. Martyn, Lizzie, and Cleo joined them a moment afterwards.

Martyn leaned close to Joel, whispering, “Are you sure this was the best place to dock?” He glanced around the port. “It doesn’t look too inviting.”

The people continued to stare at them. Martyn couldn’t help but stare back at them. The peoples’ faces looked worn and tired, as if they hadn’t slept for weeks. Their vacant, hollow expressions felt like staring into the abyss. 

Martyn couldn’t help but wonder if that was how he looked after he saw that sea prince. Maybe that was why he felt so unnerved.

“It was the only nearby island based on the map,” Joel crossed his arms. “It was either this, or we’re stuck with annoying hunters while finding a better place to dock.”

“I think I would’ve preferred the wait,” Martyn mumbled. He shook his head, “What are the plans?”

Grian and Mumbo exited the ship. Grian looked around, “We should find a place for the Kites and ourselves to stay at. Then, we’ll look for a place to eat.” Martyn hadn’t noticed his approach so his sudden voice caused Martyn to flinch. Grian hummed, “I wouldn’t mind exploring a bit.”

Seeing Grian made Martyn’s heart twist. “Yeah, me too,” He smiled. He walked up to his captain and nudged him gently, “Grian, can we talk?”

Grian narrowed his eyes and looked away. “Not now. We have to get them settled,” He shook his head. He turned to some of the Canaries, “Joel, Lizzie, Mumbo, and Bdubs. Could you four go with Kites and arrange things for an inn? The rest of us can check out the island.”

Martyn furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms, his gaze dropping to the ground as the wind passed by. Joel glanced between Martyn and Grian before approaching his brother.

Joel tilted his head. “Sounds good, but,” he put a hand on Grian’s shoulder, “I can do all the leading stuff if you’re upset.”

Grian forced a grin. “Upset? Me? No, I’m not,” he said and laughed unconvincingly. Grian looked away from Joel, “Let’s just get everything sorted.”

Martyn turned his head as he heard groans coming from a couple of Kites. Bek stomped down the gangplank. Tubbo’s eyes were wide, examining the new port while Katherine’s were narrowed. The rest of the Kites followed with either annoyed or curious reactions. It doesn’t look like they were too familiar with this place either.

“There’s no point in arguing, Bek,” Martyn overheard one of the Kites speak. “The sooner we cooperate, the sooner we can leave.”

“We can walk around on our own!” Bek rolled her eyes and shoved his hands down his pockets. 

“Not here, not when you don’t have all your gear. Come on.” Cleo jerked their head, indicating for the others to follow. The small dock wouldn’t fit all of them, so it’d be best to enter the town proper. 

Joel and Grian led the walk, the Kites trailing behind the Canaries as the hunters eagerly looked around. Martyn wished he didn’t feel so many eyes on him.

Joel stood on the left side while Grian stood on the right. Lizzie, Mumbo, and Bdubs followed Joel as Martyn, Scar, and Cleo stood next to Grian. Martyn looked at Grian, but the captain stared outward. Cleo and Scar gave Martyn warm smiles, and he smiled back weakly.

“Fiiine,” Bek groaned. She stopped next to Joel, her expression sour. She blinked as she saw Katherine walk over to stand by Martyn. “Katherine? You’re not coming with us?”

Martyn was just as surprised as Bek was.

Katherine shook her head. “I may have been on the ship with you, but I’m not a Kite. You’ll be fine,” she shrugged. “I want to see the island for myself, too.”

“Tell us if there’s something cool!��

“Will do!” Katherine smiled. She looked at Grian and gave him a sheepish grin, “I hope you don’t mind me tagging along.”

“Oh, of course not,” Grian shook his head and smiled. “It’s good to have more company around.”

“We’ll catch you in a few hours, when it gets dark,” Joel called out to Grian. Thunder rumbled overhead, sending a shiver up the captain’s spine. He forced a smile, “Er, darker. See you soon.”

Grian nodded, looking up at the sky before staring back at his brother, “Stay safe.”

Of course, there had to be a storm.

Rain was dangerous, Martyn knew that, and it’d be best to find a covered area soon. For some reason, it felt safer to be on a ship than on land when it rained. At least then, their weapons were closer.

The hunters walked through the nearly desolate streets, searching for anything anyone could deem as interesting. Martyn wanted to get his mind off of the stares. There was nothing too interesting to point out, the buildings were all boarded up and closed. An eerie howl filled his ears. 

The group was also fairly silent. Everyone was too preoccupied to really talk, it seemed, until Scar cleared his throat. 

“So,” Scar hummed as he looked at Katherine, “What brought you aboard the Kites’ ship?”

Katherine chuckled. “I was hired by them. Unlike you guys, I don’t hunt with just one crew,” she shook her head and puffed out her chest. “I like flying solo.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely without a crew?” Scar raised an eyebrow.

Katherine shook her head. “The opposite, actually,” she grinned. “You get to meet so many people! It’s never a dull moment when you’re moving all the time. What’s it like to have one?”

“They’re like siblings you never wished you had,” Cleo laughed. “They’re the worst.” Cleo rolled their eyes with a smile as Scar nudged them. 

Martyn laughed along with them, but his eyes flickered to Grian, who seemed to prefer staying quiet for the moment. 

I hope we can find some time alone later, I need to talk to him.

Martyn bit his lip, unable to say anything as he looked away from the others. He tuned out their conversation, but occasionally looked back to see them smiling and laughing, then looking over to see Grian with his arms crossed and his head down. It wasn’t wise to talk about Grian’s outburst in public, unless Martyn wanted to bring more attention to them.

Katherine, Scar, and Cleo walked ahead of Martyn and Grian. Grian didn’t seem aware of it. Martyn sighed but put on a smile as he gently tapped Grian’s shoulder.

“A storm sure is brewing,” Martyn looked up at the dark sky above. Thunder rumbled as he narrowed his eyes, “How’s the sightseeing?”

Grian shrugged, “Not much going on, by the sounds of things,” he crossed his arms. “I can’t hear much either. The whole town’s practically a dead zone.”

“You could say that again,” Martyn looked around, a shiver crawling up his spine. “What are we hoping to find here?”

“I was hoping to find some carpenters and ammunition stores for the ship and our weapons,” Grian sighed. “But these townsfolk don’t appear to be selling any of those.”

“I’m sure there’s at least one, we just need to keep walking,” Martyn forced a small smile. If he were honest, he wasn’t sure if there were any naval stores around here. If there weren’t any gates protecting the people from the sea, there might not be any stores with weapons to protect themselves from danger– even on the island. Martyn shook his head, “I hope the others find a place to stay soon.”

Grian nodded. “Me too, I’m pretty exhausted,” he looked around before staring at Martyn. He kept his voice in a whisper, “Are you still hurt from the fall?”

Martyn blinked. “I’m… I’m fine,” he placed a hand on Grian’s shoulder “But I’m worried about you, Grian.”

“Don’t be. I’ll be good,” Grian moved Martyn’s hand off of his shoulder. His stomach grumbled as he placed his hand on top of it, “I’m getting a bit hungry, though.”

Right. They haven’t eaten much yet. Martyn remembered eating a few snacks, but they wouldn’t fill him as much as a warm plate of food would. Martyn’s own stomach grumbled as he closed his eyes and briefly saw himself with Scott, the ginger playfully giggling while having Martyn to eat his fill in The Golden Apple.

Martyn sighed. Remember your promise.

Martyn smelled the air. It smelled of ash and rain, but there was something else. Something… good. There was food nearby, and likely, a tavern.

Martyn nudged the captain, “It smells like something’s cooking nearby. I think there’s a tavern,” he turned towards Grian and smiled, then he looked forward to see Katherine, Scar, and Cleo still entrenched in their conversation. “Hey guys!” Martyn called out, the three turned their heads towards him, “Do you want to get some food and drink?”

Katherine shook her head. “I’m good. I want to search the stalls up ahead for anything interesting to bring home,” she turned to Scar and Cleo. “What about you two?”

“I think it’d be safer to travel in groups for a while, so I’ll stay with Katherine.” Cleo smiled.

Best to travel in groups in an unfamiliar place.

“I’ll stay with Katherine too!” Scar grinned. An amused chuckle came out of Katherine as Scar placed his hands on his waist. “Besides, I’m not hungry at all.”

It’ll just be me and Grian, then.

“I’m sure you two can handle yourselves,” Katherine crossed her arms and nodded at Martyn and Grian. She turned around, “Don’t get killed in there!” She, Cleo, and Scar left for the stalls ahead, leaving Grian and Martyn to follow the smell.

This tavern wasn’t as fancy as Scott’s. It was an ordinary, square building with stones as a foundation and wooden beams to hold it up. It didn’t look well kept with the chips on the beams and the dirt that stained the dark green wooden walls. Still, a tavern was a tavern, Martyn just needed to suck it up.

Spending all of his time in Scott’s tavern had really spoiled Martyn. 

“After you.” Martyn opened the door and tilted his head at Grian. Grian nodded and walked inside, Martyn following behind as he shut the door behind them. Another crackle of thunder rang through the sky.

The tavern was small, with a sparse number of tables and chairs scattered around the room in an almost disorganized state. Barrels lined the back of the room and a modest bar was set up with one bartender cleaning a shot glass. To Martyn, there was nothing too noteworthy about this place, all of his thoughts remained back at that tavern with Scott. There were barely any people around, yet the moment Martyn closed the door behind him everyone’s heads shot up to stare at the two hunters.

Their murmurs did not go unheard.

“Hunters…” “What are they doing here?” “They’ll be dead for sure.”

Dead?

“What’s with all the whispers?” Martyn tried to avoid the stares in the room as he leaned over to Grian.

“Why would I know?” Grian whispered, a small hiss in his voice.

The bartender looked up at them and gave them a weary smile. “Ah. New faces, I see,” he sighed as Grian and Martyn took a seat on the stools. “I’m sorry that you’re here.”

“Why’s that?” Martyn raised an eyebrow. “The place is freaky, but there’s no need to apologize.”

“Oh, sir, you misunderstand,” the bartender shook his head. He leaned his head from side to side to get a better look at both of them, “You’re both hunters, are you not?”

“We are,” Grian nodded his head. He narrowed his eyes, “What’s the problem?”

“You see, sir, that is the problem,” the bartender turned around to pick up a bottle, then glanced back over his shoulder at the two of them. “Hunters who enter this isle may never leave.”

What?

Martyn let out a chuckle. “That’s ridiculous,” he rolled his eyes. “There wasn’t anything preventing us from entering.”

Apart from the weird tall rocks and dark storm clouds, there wasn’t any obstacle preventing the hunters from coming in. Martyn felt the hairs on his skin rise, but he tried to shake it off. What was he so worried about?

“Crescent Bay welcomes all, but the hunters who enter cannot escape,” The bartender poured a shot of alcohol and moved the small glass in front of Martyn. “Please, take a drink. You’re on edge. On the house.”

“Martyn, don’t.” Grian narrowed his eyes.

One wouldn’t hurt, right?

Martyn was a lightweight. If he got drunk on an island he was unfamiliar with, it could lead to some trouble, yet, when he looked into the intoxicating liquid, all he could see was Scott’s warm smile and his pretty eyes staring back.

“It’s just one shot, don’t worry about me.”

“It hasn’t been poisoned, if that’s what you were wondering,” the bartender poured the liquid into a different shot glass and downed it in one gulp. “See? Everything is just fine.”

Martyn took a small sip out of the glass. He heard Grian’s resigned sigh. “It’s not that….” 

Grian leaned closer to the bartender, resting his arms on the counter. “So,” he tilted his head, “are you saying the island’s cursed?”

The bartender nodded. “That it is.” he sighed. “It’s a nasty enchantment from the Scarlet Witch herself.”

Martyn laughed. “Witches? You’ve got to be kidding me,” he shook his head and waved his hand dismissively before taking another sip. “Witches aren’t real.”

The bartender shook his head. “She’s real. She cursed the island to kill any hunter that tries to leave,” he looked at the hunters with widened eyes. “I've seen bits of the monster myself.” Grian raised an eyebrow, encouraging the man to speak more. “Any time a hunting ship leaves, there’s this mist that just appears, the sky erupts into a storm, and–,” his voice shook as his eyes stared at the floor, “No hunter has ever left alive.”

Martyn took another sip of his drink. A sudden mist and rainstorm, then monsters. He hummed. He swirled the alcohol in the shot glass before downing the rest of it, a sickening feeling formed in his gut almost immediately. The bartender refilled the shot for Martyn without him needing to ask, but he eyed it with an odd look on his face. Focus.

A sudden rainstorm didn’t sound like a problem. It was something hunters needed to be ready for at all times, but the mist stumped him. As far as he knew, the only place that had thick mist would be the world border, or moments in the sea prince stories–

Sea prince stories.

Something about this story made Martyn think. He sipped his shot. His brain was getting fuzzy, but maybe the alcohol could clear it and get him to understand the situation.

Grian shrugged, “A swarm of sea monsters ambushed a nearby hunting ship, I can see why that’s a problem.”

“No, sir, you’ve got that part wrong.” the bartender leaned in, his voice continuing to quiver. His eyes widened, “There’s only one beast that destroys the ships....”

Martyn took a sip from his shot and his eyes locked onto the now overtly nervous bartender. Grian glanced between Martyn and the bartender and nodded, allowing the man time to find his words.

“We here on the island have reason to believe it’s a sea prince.”

The sea prince’s haunting eyes burned in the back of Martyn’s mind, causing him to flinch. He took in deep breaths. 

It was a sea prince, what he’d seen. Somehow, Martyn had found himself staring at one face to face, and now he was on an island that was possibly- likely guarded by a sea prince. It was all lining up, maybe too well. 

“Tell us more,” Grian pressed. Martyn looked at him and at the bartender. Grian’s gaze was locked on the bartender as his hands began to shake.

“Y-You see–,” the bartender crossed his arms and rested against the counter. He took in a deep breath, “It storms so hard during the siege, no one can catch a proper look of the monster. But believe me, it’s much, much larger than any other ship– and its roar sounds like the unholy call of death itself.”

“How does this relate to the Scarlet Witch?”

“The… the Scarlet Witch… she….” The bartender lowered his head, his voice getting softer and softer.

“She made a deal with the sea princes.” A different voice spoke up, causing Martyn and Grian to turn to an elderly man. There was a bottle next to him and a big tankard. He didn’t look drunk- at least Martyn didn’t think so.

“She saw their treasure, and made a contract with them,” he looked at them and sat up from his slouch. “She was promised magic beyond anyone’s comprehension, and in return, she would follow their every command.”

“I’ve never heard that story before,” Martyn said, keeping his voice low.

“That’s because no one is able to tell it, hunter,” a different voice spoke, this time it came from a young woman. “Those who try to leave die. They can’t even spot the sea prince, either. Despite it being so close to the area, no one can discern the features the devil has.”

“The demon can’t even be spotted by normal ships! It’s like a ghost!” One of the other patrons stood from their seat, their voice loud and frantic. 

“A terrifying ghost monster!” Another patron shouted. “It’ll come for us all if we ever leave!” The sudden surge of noise startled Martyn- riled up over a ghostly sea prince that doomed hunting ships and scared others. 

“Oh, quiet down!” The young woman glared at the other patrons and leaned back on her chair. “That’s how no one can tell this story. People would think we’re making it up, but there comes the risk in escaping this island,” she motioned with her hands before shaking her head and crossing her arms. “So most of us resigned our fates here.”

No one is able to tell this story, huh?

“Then we’ll be the first,” Martyn grinned confidently. “Because we’re the Canaries; we’re the king’s hunters, and we’ll take down a sea prince!”

Usually- that was followed by a roar of applause after Martyn would say such a statement, but there was only silence. Martyn felt heat rise to his cheeks. Embarrassed, he downed the last of his shot and shuddered.

Grian patted Martyn’s shoulder. “I apologize for my friend’s behavior, he’s a lightweight,” he looked at Martyn, then back at the woman. “We’ll heed all of your warnings, though. Is there anything we need to look out for?”

The woman nodded. “A red hood, and she carries around twin blades that look like the moon.”

“We’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” Grian smiled and held Martyn’s shoulder, pulling him to his feet and carefully leading him out of the tavern as it grew silent and dreary once more. The patrons stared after them as Grian shut the door behind him.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Grian muttered quietly. He looked at Martyn and crossed his arms, “And you shouldn’t have drank. We should meet up with Scar and the others.”

Was Grian not going to talk about what they just learned? It was groundbreaking! Someone made a contract with the sea princes– and even saw their treasure! Maybe Martyn was a little freaked out, but that meant he wasn’t the only one spared from a sea prince’s hunger.

Someone else had seen one, and lived.

Maybe the Scarlet Witch could even answer why the sea prince hadn’t eaten him. She could know so much more about the sea princes, and their power, and their treasure that the world had never heard of before. 

He needed to find her.

“Don’t you want to seek out the Scarlet Witch?” Martyn’s eyes widened as he placed his hands on Grian’s shoulder, visibly excited. “She might be our key to everything!”

Grian forced a grin and pushed Martyn off. “Can we talk about that when you aren’t drunk?” he shook his head. “Come on, I see Cleo. Let’s go join them.” Grian motioned for Martyn to follow him, sending one last glance at him before walking forward. They weren’t too far away, so Martyn didn’t feel the need to hurry after Grian. He could catch up.

Martyn was left alone on the desolate street before he heard the sound of scraping gravel behind him.

He turned his head.

Nothing.

It was nothing more than an empty street, barrels and boxes littered around carelessly. 

Martyn shuddered as the breeze kicked up a chill around him and he shook his head. Nothing was there. “...Alright alright, I’m coming.” He raised his shoulders and walked forward with a slight wobble in his step. He really shouldn’t have been drinking.

Martyn could have sworn he saw something down the empty street. 

And he’d be right.

[capricious-bastard13]

The ground he walks on disperses with fine dirt each step he takes. It leaves his feet mucked and grimed, the ends of his hakama ruined and tattered if you looked down enough. Spending his training with Mihawk was eye-opening to say the least, with the man asking him relentless raised brows of his origins--"If you turn indifferent to your forebears, what purpose does it hold when you parade around in a half attempt of supposedly respecting it?" and loathe as he might have been at the start, Mihawk did have a point.

In the silence of his tutor's library, he'd asked quietly to bring him new clothes, and Mihawk doesn't disagree. Rather, he took it on, going on trips days long to come back with more clothes than Zoro had back at Shimotsuki.

Perona and Mihawk would consult books on how to prepare and cook dishes native to Wano and the diaspora on Shimotsuki. Zoro eats it all, of course, the cook's voice scolding him from somewhere, ringing in the air ( and perhaps he can't help but compare Sanji's cooking to Mihawk's and Perona's, much to the shy embarrassment of the cook in his head ).

The fishing port comes to view and he takes a moment to watch the goings-on of the fishermen, hauling around large nets, setting up sails, tying ropes and scrubbing their boats clean. Just before the hilly grass turns into beach sand, stands a stall with fishing poles and different sized baits on display.

The old man looks him up and down but otherwise doesn't react nor treat him any hostile. Simply accepting his payment of berries and shooing him away with a flick of his wrist.

As he goes down to the beach and onward to the port, he hears the old man, his voice frail and breaking, he doesn't turn, of course not. There less chances of the old man addressing him than there are Luffy leaving a plate untouched.

Everything happens with barely any room to breathe. The men all shout of an intruder, readying pistols and swords. He sits on the top of the mast, lets a leg dangle while he rests the ankle of his other leg on top of a knee, watching. "Must be some intruder if you spot him immediately." Then every person on the ship turns to him, glaring eyes and pointing weapons. "Oh."

Heaving a sigh, he unsheathes a sword and cleaves the ship in half before any of the men could fire at him, shouts of surprise drowned quite literally by everyone falling into the water, salt down their throats.

When he emerges from the water, his hair sticks to his face in messy, dripping strands. Clinging to his cheeks, forehead and the nape of his neck.

Shaking his head to rid of the water and scrubbing a hand down his face, he spots an innocuous stick on the sand--ignoring all the littered utensils and china that must have come from the ship he'd just destroyed. With one hand, he wrings his hair, long strands sticking on his fingers and nearly getting them tangled into wet clumps before he lets go, only to gather up the top portion of his hair, grunting when the bangs that Perona had thought funny to trim in his sleep all escape his grasp.

He twists the stick he'd found around his gathered portion of hair, before running the stick through after a few twists. He can feel the stick nearly touch his scalp, strands pulled taut in certain spots and others a bit too loose.

Longer strands still stick to the sides of his face, moist and clumped together, the portion he didn't tie fall into a mess of waves down his nape and neck, just brushing his shoulders, small drops of water slithering down his back, his kimono loose from his stint in salt water. Briefly, he wonders if the cook probably knows how to deal with kimonos and if salt water could ruin them beyond repair before he finally looks up.

The left side of Sanji's face is exposed now, standing there with mouth agape in a skin tight corset where a white blouse billows and exposes more of his slim neck and slender collarbones.

"You grew out your hair," the blond comments before his eyes widen, "What the fuck happened to your eye?"

Shrugging, he huffs air upwards to his bangs, "Training accident." Sanji makes a sound in the back of his throat before he straightens up when they hear a bunch of people screaming to grab and apprehend Zoro. "I just came back and you're already in trouble. You fucking owe me."

The Sunny sinks down in increments, the current of the sea gentle still as sunlight slowly dims above them. Zoro changed into a darker outfit, a dark collared juban beneath a dark blue kimono. The one he wore before somewhere the cook had taken to wash.

As the adrenaline of running away from the chaos of returning to Sabaody dies down, everyone finds their own little nooks to sit down on, Usopp, Chopper and Brook in a small circle as they share stories of what they've been up to, Nami is sitting against the mast along with Robin. And Franky is on his stomach, kicking his feet and cradling his face on his large--larger hands.

For a moment he stands, running his gaze around his crew, basking in their presence and the contentment they all exude of finally reuniting, then before he knows it, he finds himself walking into the kitchen.

Sanji tells him he isn't allowed any alcohol and he deigns it without a response, finding a seat and simply watching him pitter and patter around the kitchen.

Idly, he combs a hand through his hair, dry and wavy from the sea, blunt nails scraping at his scalp and he reminds himself to cut his nails shorter. He runs his hand once more, his bangs disrupted and parting in the middle, locks brushing his skin in something familiar now. Luffy had looked at him starry eyed and pulled to see if he was wearing a wig, curiosity satisfied, he'd been left alone. Nami had reacted with wide eyes and a smirk on her lips--whatever that meant while others simply told him he looked good and that it "suited him with his new ensemble of clothing choice".

Perhaps he'd drifted in thought farther that he expected, coming back down to his body when fingers run along his hair, combing through longer locks, twisting around lithe fingers. The scent of cigarette smoke prominent and comforting all the same. Those same hands eventually move downward, cupping and cradling his head in precious hands.

His own coming up to hold on to the cook's wrists, turning his head just so to nuzzle into a palm, feel the warmth of it once again. Thumbs come and brush along his jawline and he blinks. Oh, he'd forgotten to shave. He says as much and the twinkle in Sanji's eyes sparks heat in his body.

"I'm not complaining," he drawls out, voice almost a whisper, their heads moving closer, pulled into each other's orbit. Sanji grabs a fistful of long strands and grips, humming with delight, "Definitely not complaining."

And Zoro can't help it, eye glancing downward, a pert little nipple exposed that sends his throat drying. He lets go of his hold on the other's wrists, running them down Sanji's forearms to his chest, and settling at his curves, pulling him closer to the space between his legs.

When he slots his face into the crook of the blond's neck, an excited shiver runs down his spine at a hitched breath, kissing a smile into pale skin as nails scritch at his scalp.

[godshitgirl]

Nothing on my mind except Chuuya with depression who gets some help from an expert in that field (dazai🙄)

It starts simple. Dazai and Chuuya often meet at an underground bar to have a drink together. It's the one time they can talk to each other peacefully, no need for their constant bickering and attacks, here they can actually be civilized.

Chuuya doesn't notice it at first. All he knows is that as of late, he hasn't really been in the mood. Jobs that he would finish in a heartbeat suddenly become such a burden. Things he used to love like music and wine are all but fuzzy memories, he doesn't feel anything for them now. He's always tired, and he's never tired. Chuuya would never admit when he wants to hit the hay. As long as the boss needed him, he was there.

He comes in late for his and Dazai's biweekly meetings. Dazai can already tell the other is in distress. His once so strong appearance that he accomplished with so much effort seemed improvised, shirt undone by three top buttons, jacket hanging by his arm, no vest, hair in disarray, it was barely like Chuuya anymore.

"What's wrong, Slug? You win a hobo costume contest or something?" Dazai tried to tease, to lighten the mood.

"Shut up, fish for brains, m' not in the mood." Chuuya says begrudgingly as he takes a seat one stool away from Dazai, like he always did.

"Oh? Do tell," Dazai slid a glass of shiny brown liquid and three floating ice cubes to his ex partner, who took it without a word.

"None of your goddamn business, Mackerel." Chuuya was grumpy, cranky even, at Dazai's poor attempt at comforting him.

"Aw, c'mon, Chuu! This is Lupin we're in! What's the point of this place still standing if we don't share anything and everything in it?"

Chuuya sighed a short "fine" and opened up.

"I've just been so tired lately." He said.

"Oh? Mori giving you trouble?"

"Nah, the workload's just as much as before, I checked. It just...feels like more than I can carry, y'know?"

"Well, maybe you should take a break," Dazai said in a cheerful tone. "I know a couple of islands you could visit for a vacation. They've got wine and music and probably some tacky hats if you feel like i-"

"That's the thing, I'm not in the mood to take a break. Or do the things I want. They just....don't seem that appealing anymore. And even if I do take some time off, what if the boss needs me? I can't just let go of that responsibility."

By now Chuuya has had one too many drinks than he can handle in this state, and by that I mean he's only had one, the one Dazai gave him. Already he was looking even worse. Dazai figured it was time for him to go home.

Usually when Chuuya was drunk and Dazai was the poor soul who had to take him home to safety, he would be met with countless insults and "I'm not drunk"s or "one last drink"s. But this time, Chuuya didn't resist a bit. He groggily got off the stool, greeted the bartender, took his coat and walked out silently with Dazai. It's a feeling the latter definitely wasn't used to.

They got to Chuuya's apartment, a luxurious suite at the top of a 30+ story condo that had a bigger bedroom than Dazai's entire home, and the brunette laid his friend down on the couch. Once he knew he was comfortable he slid down to sit on the floor with his back leaning on the couch, staying close to watch his friend. It wasn't the first time he'd done this, and it won't be the last.

"Dazai?"

"Yeah?"

"You get feelings like this too, right?"

"All the time, buddy. Why?"

"I was worried about that. Do you...have any tips on...how to deal with it?"

Dazai paused for a second.

"Have you thought about just...not dealing with it?"

"Can't afford to do that."

"Why not?"

"Well, unlike you, some of us are actually competent assets to our jobs. If I go down the entire Port Mafia will go down too."

"That's not your responsibility."

"It was when you left."

Another long pause. Chuuya was a little out of it, but even he could tell it was too quiet in there.

The silence was so long Chuuya's eyes started to get heavier. His long lashes would flutter up and down as he tried to remain awake. He didn't know why, there was no reason for him to stay away that night...right?

Dazai felt the change in Chuuya's atmosphere even while looking away. As he turned around he saw Chuuya's cute little eyelids flutter like butterflies and his bright blue pupils softening towards slumber.

"Are you going to sleep? Because I can leave if you want." Dazai was quick to get back up on his feet and make his way to the door. However he wasn't quick enough for something to not catch him by the tail of his coat.

"Wait," came a voice. Dazai looked behind him. Chuuya had pulled himself out of the couch just to reach him. His hand gripped on lightly to his coat yet it was probably all the strength he could muster.

"Could you...stay here for a little while?" He asked bashfully. They weren't little kids anymore, asking a guy to stay the night means something now.

Dazai's face went from confused to soft and reassuring. "Sure, Shrimp." He said as he made his way back to the couch. "Since Chuuya needs me so much, I guess I can stay."

"All I need you for is to repel any mice or rats that come in here. Your fishy scent will drive them away."

"Oh my! How hurtful! You've really done it now, Chuuya, I'm devastated!"

"Shut up..."

Neither of them know how it happened, but soon enough the two were asleep. Chuuya on the couch, stomach down and face to the side in case he needed to vomit (he didn't) with a hand reaching out. And Dazai leaning against the arm rest of the couch, also slightly on his side, hand almost touching Chuuya's.

[ambazaar]

The Bitter Taste of Hibiscus 🌺: Part 2

Shanks x oc

Synopsis: Tessa, due to a complicated past, has an opinion about pirates. An opinion that's become a bit muddled since he came to the village for the first time. It's all inconvenient, really. Falling in love.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Use, Facial-Related Injuries, Fluff (may be subject to change)

A/N: I've barely read or seen ANY of the manga or anime so pls don't murder me about inaccuracies. I'm in love with OPLA Shanks and needed to get my frustrations out in writing. So have a fun, angsty short story filled with fluffy goodness. Will be updating as I can.

\\\

Shortly after the Red Force settled into port, Tessa left Makino to tend to her business with the pirates. She wouldn't be caught in the middle, not with her heart racing as fast as it was and sleep coating her eyelids so heavily. She thought to look for her street urchin, but realized halfway to his nook beneath the docks that he most likely would have snuck aboard the ship by now. He'd have bolted to see Shanks the moment he woke, having been counting the days until his return, of that Tessa had no doubt. The young woman sighed, unsure of what to do. 

Makino's voice rang in the back of Tessa's mind, warning her of regrets once more. But it was too early in the day to think of regrets. So, she turned back toward town, careful to avoid the main docks, and began the long trek from the beach to the cottage on the outskirts of the village. 

It was a small thing, Tessa's cottage, with a charming and rustic allure. The vibrant blue of the wooden planks that adorned its exterior had long faded from the coastal sun. The once bright yellow door, now tinged with a soft gray hue, hadn't welcomed visitors aside from Makino or Luffy in years. Inside, its worn walls were decorated with flattened bouquets of flowers that Tessa had picked during her hikes through the hills and paintings by her mother that were older than she was. She hung seashells with discarded fishing wire in an intricate path connecting the only two windows, which cascaded together in blissful chimes whenever a soft breeze caught the milky, lace curtains.

A large, peculiar-shaped piece of driftwood sat above the hearth, a gift from Luffy just one year prior. Not long after the Red Hair Pirates came and left Windmill Village for the first time, he'd found the driftwood on the beach and attempted to shape it to look more like the dragon figurehead of Shanks' ship. Tessa couldn't perceive the resemblance, but she never had the heart to tell him. So, above the hearth it stayed.

Inside the cottage was cold, as she had no need to light a fire last night, having spent the entire evening at Party's with Makino. Tessa reached for the dingy, red shawl hanging beside the hearth, wrapping it around her shoulders, and went to work on starting a small fire. Moments later, she swung a kettle over the open flames and nestled into the large quilt she'd spent most of the spring working on, which draped over an old wicker chair in the corner of the open room. The salty air of the sea drifted through the windows with the cool breeze, mingling with a scent almost like cranberries as Tessa poured the boiling water from the kettle through loose hibiscus petals. It was a tart drink, but one that served better to wake her than most things. She let it rest for a moment and sat back in the chair, turning her head toward the window.

Her gaze immediately fell to the pirate ship.

Despite the feelings Tessa held for their captain, she still remained uncertain of the Red Hair Pirates. She rarely spoke to any of them, usually just in passing and never for very long, despite the fact that they'd been coming and going from Windmill Village for over a year now. They'd established a mutually beneficial relationship with the islanders over that time, so much so that greeting the pirates at port became almost a tradition for some of the villagers. But not for Tessa. It was not completely lost on her that a band of respectful sailors was possible. But a band of respectable pirates? She'd never heard of such a thing.

The first time she found herself face to face with one of them, she'd been on her way to Party's to help Makino when she collided right into Benn Beckman, the first mate. He laughed it off and advised that she should watch her step. She couldn't recall what came over her that day, but his audacity sparked a fire in her chest.

"Well excuse me, sir!" She said, her voice already loud enough for everyone near to turn their heads. "I've never been made to 'watch my step' before you lot came, bounding about like you own the place. And usually when you knock into a lady, you apologize, not laugh in her face!"

The pirate laughed again, louder and much heartier than before. The pale of her face flushed pink, the anger coursing through her overshadowing any fear that might occur from the consequences of her outburst. But to Tessa's astonishment, he simply bowed, placing a large hand over his heart, and asked for her forgiveness. She didn't know what to say or do. When he met her gaze again, a genuine smile crossed his features and she stood there, completely bewildered. 

That's when she heard him for the first time, calling the first mate from beneath the canopy of Party's. "You starting trouble with the locals already, Benn?" He asked. 

"No more than usual, Cap'n." As Benn passed her on the dock, Tessa's eyes rose to the man that he'd referred to as 'captain'.

He was certainly tall, much taller than Makino who stood just beside him, with vibrant red hair and a grayish cape draped across his shoulders, and on his head sat a peculiar straw hat. Peculiar because it adorned the head of a pirate captain: the most fearsome sort of man one could come across. This man, with his straw hat and charming features, didn't look dangerous. In fact, as he watched her enter the bar, she found her gaze fixated on him, not in fear but in curiosity. Specifically his eyes. Dark as pools of ink under the shade of his hat, Tessa wondered in that moment the kind of stories they held within. But, as she arrived at Makino's side, she lastly took note of the three long scars that decorated the left side of his face and steeled herself at the last second, despite the man's warm smile.

"Apologies for my first mate, miss," he said to her. "A life on the seas sometimes causes a man to forget his manners."

Something inside Tessa tensed. Makino sensed it, immediately turning to look at her friend, and saw the hard expression on her face. "I'm sure manners isn't the only thing," Tessa retorted.

Though puzzled, Shanks chuckled and smiled wider in response. Heat rose immediately through Tessa's face, which irritated her more. She finally met Makino's worried stare and said, her words heavily soaked in resentment, "Since when do we do business with pirates?" She surveyed Shanks up and down, taking in the intrigued look on his face, and practically sprinted across to the other dining hut. 

Tessa looked back on that memory and cringed. She'd been so angry with Makino for helping them that day. She couldn't believe that in only a year her opinions on pirates would become so muddled. All because of Shanks and his crew. It was hard to believe there were others like them, at least for Tessa. Her own experiences with pirates had left a bitterness in her heart that cast a dark prejudice on them. So, in the beginning, she'd hated Shanks. She hated that Luffy admired him so much. She hated that the village placed their trust in him so quickly. But most of all she hated that, despite all her animosity and resentment, she'd still fallen in love with him.

She'd known it only a few months later when the pirates had returned from another trek across the seas and their captain called cheers for both her and Makino after they'd spent a whole afternoon making sure his crew was fed. She'd known it when she watched him help a young girl collect her basket of apples that had fallen to the ground, her tears shifting to laughter as he gave her words of assurance. She'd known it when he'd placed his hand over hers that night at Party's, though she hadn't been able to even look at him since. For all he knew, Tessa still hated him. But for the first time in a year, she no longer felt content keeping it that way. 

There was a sudden rapping at the door, which jolted Tessa from a sleep she hadn't known she had fallen into. Luffy was standing in front of her before she could wipe the haze from her eyes. "TESSA," the boy shouted, despite the fact she was already quite awake. 

"Yes, Luffy. What can I do for-" 

The woman's voice caught in her throat as she finally looked upon the boy's face. Her hand instinctively flew to his cheek, her thumb hovering anxiously over the tender stitches just below his right eye. "What on Earth happened?" 

"Tessa, you're not going to believe this! Look!" Luffy bounced away from her touch and stood just in front of the fireplace, the flames mere embers now; how long had she been asleep? Her eyes wouldn't leave the fresh wound on his face. 

"Luffy, please. Tell me what happened!" She urged him, but alas the boy ignored her. 

He raised his arm high above his head, and with a triumphant yell, swiftly thrust it forward. Tessa's breath was forcefully expelled from her lungs, leaving her feeling dizzy, as she observed the boy's arm unnaturally extending across the room, knocking her front door wide open and causing it to dislodge from the top hinge. Luffy instantly recoiled, overwhelmed by immediate regret, and looked to Tessa with sheepish guilt. "I can fix that," He said, lunging forward.  

Tessa's eyes were transfixed on the boy. She observed as Luffy attempted to hoist the door back into place, but found it unable to stay by itself, and had no choice but to let it fall once again. This time, the weight proved too much for the weakened second hinge, causing the door to collapse to the ground. Overwhelmed by an immense sense of remorse, Luffy avoided Tessa's wide-eyed expression at all costs. Fortunately for him, he wouldn't have to explain.

She'd heard many stories about Devil Fruits throughout her life and the unnatural gifts they offered, but also the curse they bestowed upon whoever consumed one. A multitude of emotions swirled within Tessa's mind, yet one sensation eclipsed them all—an abrupt and profound anger that surged from the depths of her stomach, fixating on a certain captain with vibrant red hair.

I'm going to bloody kill him.

---

Part 3

[septusuki]

"Opening in five," every compartment opening gets a countdown. A full on announcement, as if it were about to be celebrated. The mech itself is turned off, fully inert, and folded in on itself, but there's still one last problem. "Four." The pilot herself. Incensed with combat stims, and alight with hormones, there's no telling what she'll do once the cockpit peels itself open. Perhaps she'll be frothing at the mouth, violent and furious. "Three." Perhaps she'll be glassy-eyed, screaming and despondent. Perhaps she'll be soaking, sweating and horny. Any choice is as bad as the other — especially for the poor sod who has to deal with it. "Two." The little entourage around the cockpit level their stun-guns, ready to protect the pilot from herself, as soon as she emerges. Something's going to happen, either way; the bodyguards are sure of it. "One."

The key is pressed, and the port goes silent, save for the hissing, clicking hydraulics of the Abbaciss apparatus. Slowly, but surely, the cockpit careens open until one of it's sharper edges clinks against the floor plating politely. Nothing. There is no pilot for a moment. No frenzy of arms, no stink of fluids. The bodyguards lower their weapons, sorely disappointed. One of them is kicked forwards by their compatriots — go check it out. Almost tumbling, Janna stabilizes herself with a hand to the heated hull of the killing machine she's supposed to be guarding. "H-Hello?" She murmurs, lowering her head so she can look up the gloryhole of the much-adorned mecha.

I slither out. Like a sack of sopping meat-hunks, I'm fed onto the floor, feet-first. I lay there, spat out from my sacred safe-space, and onto this chilly, pristine-clean surface. "Uh." I make some kind of noise, as is protocol, to let everyone know that I'm out safely. I'm a pile of bodysuit-plastic leather and lithe skin, but I'm out. Safely.

"U... Uh?" Janna tries to repeat the noise I've made, staring down at the glimmering mess beneath her. I'm soaked with sweat, as is expected, and covered in input bruises. "Abbaciss, are you... Okay?" Realizing that she's not allowed to ask that yet, Janna's spine straightens as she switches into professional mode. "Senior Abaciss, please confirm your condition." She barks out, her eyes no longer looking down at me. The stun guns are gone at least; completely lowered once the bodyguards are assured that I'm not threat.

My modulator clicks into the ON position as I prepare my throttled vocal chords for the stress of speech. "Dees-app-pointed." I grunt, the mechanics doing all the work, as I can barely bring myself to even speak properly. "Dees-at-iss-fied." My mouth is open, but making no real effort to do much at all. I beep through my words, hooking my arms under my thighs and wrenching them in close.

Janna looks to her squad for any kind of answer, and then swings back, rolling her eyes. Dissatisfied. That's a long word, for a doll. "Abbaciss..." She begins, breaking protocol once again, just to reach down and pat the little pilot on the head. There's no reaction. "What's wrong? You completed the mission, all fine. All's green." Just realizing she's volunteered to be a military therapist for a downtrodden doll, Janna just facepalms, and sits down. She might be here for a moment.

"Didn't kill eh-nuff." I murmur, my eyes watching as Janna's face drops down to my level. "Not eff-fish-ently eh-nuff." I squawk, revelling in my own depression. I want to tear this bodysuit off. I want to get back in the shell-frame, and march back out to the killing pastures. I want to sink my nails into something that'll scream. My own body would do.

"But... It was a scout mission, Abbaciss. You didn't need to kill anyone." Janna's head cocks, full of the puppy-energy she was made to put out. "If anything, it's better that you didn't make a mess." She pats me again, rubbing away at my perfectly-shaped hips and trying not to finger or fiddle with any of my tech-inports.

"Should have done more." I respond instantly, as if I have a routine script for this messy kind of conversation. Perhaps I've already run through it a billion times in my computational core. "Much more. Empire isn't safe if I don't kill." My voice lowers, so only Janna can hear. "Forward base isn't safe." Swallowing my dignity, my real voice manages to come out, this time. "Home isn't safe. Friends aren't safe." My body shakes and wracks itself with disappointment as I remind myself just how grievous the imagined failure I've committed is.

"Fuck..." False alarm. Janna can't help but laugh a bit. Her hand rubs my shoulder, and then finds the control handle I have attached to the base of my neck. "You're fucking cute." She's inches from bursting with affection. Fastening her fingers around my control handle, she drags my corpse in close and — and hugs me. "Look. I've got some spare rationmarks. How about some ice cream, Abbaciss?" Trying to straighten her mouth as it does backflips, and twists in loops across her face, Janna quickly finds there's no helping her. She's been bowled over by my accidental display of adoration. There's only one thing she can do; with her right hand lifted up in the one moment, please hardcode, she uses her left arm to bring me in closer, and squeeze me until I make a little peep of satisfaction.

[ms-scarletwings]

Dave the Diver: On Aberrations

Between a scattering of recently discovered islands rests a jewel of paradise, mystery, and a hint of exotic danger. The famous Blue Hole has found a name for itself among the most envied tourist destinations among the world, with a gorgeous view, thrills to experience, and rich natural resources… but on a day like this, the scene has become anything but recognizable as the bustling hub described. That is because a ponderous fog has decided to linger over the lagoon by the time my vessel reaches port.

Despite the warm weather, I could feel my hairs standing on end from the very moment the clouds had enveloped our ship. Aside from the occasional day like this, fog horns would usually be a rare sound to hear across the bay. Since the discovery of the area, vacationers have enjoyed a tropical climate punctuated by mild storms. It all paints a picture so drastically unlike the eerie one I have pursued to this end. By sunset, I know that the white mist outside will give way to a crimson haze. With it, begins the investigation into the unusual animals only spotted on previous fogged nights: What familiar aberrants have made their way to the region, what are they capable of, and to where they fit within the additional puzzle of Blue Hole’s astounding ecosystem.

The Fog Coast, Part One

The hour is roughly 10pm, and “Blue” Hole has turned to a sight otherworldly. Thick, red vapors and an eerie silence hang in place of what was a starlight sky over the whistles of dolphins a mere night ago. The locals claim that the lagoon is an inscrutable locale, whose underwater geography both hosts an impossible collection of species and undergoes rapid, unexplained changes every few hours. On a night of crimson fog, it has been made enigmatic even from the surface view. Rocks easily seen by daylight make sailing close to the shorelines a hazardous endeavor along a coast with no lighthouse or other navigational indicators. It is a coastal venture treacherous, but also rewarding, for much more hides under these waves than the rocks. A watery gyre is barely seen at the edge of shiplight, and at its core, I have heard there can be found treasures far more interesting than mere gold.

• Encyclopedia Entry No. 83, 84

[Testimony of a local fisherman]

“Now it’s not unusual for cod to happen up close to the shores at night. Obviously, I was hoping for it or I wouldn’t have been fishing in that stuff, but there was something else going on with these fish. Something not right. They weren’t taking to the bait, but they just kept coming up closer. Like they were trying best they could to get up on my ankles without getting stranded. Almost like they see someone standing on the beach and that’s all they’re interested in. Not that I let them, but they got close enough to tell something ugly about them. The only thing I managed to get hooked snapped my line before I could figure out what I was even looking at, other than big teeth and nasty looking eyes.“

Analysis: Our first descriptive cases of mutated cod corroborated with archived specimens from off the coast of Greater Marrow. Though there are instances where residents have managed to capture these codfish whole and live, no success has been found in attempting to keep them or any other mutated fish in captivity, due to their propensity to die shortly after they are harvested from the ocean. The two ‘flavors’ of tainted cod found here include the Fanged and Three-Headed variants, with no cases of hypertrophy. Their behavior has observed to feature heightened predatory behavior, to the point of stalking and testing large animals as oppurtunistic targets. They approach sluggishly at first, and lunge to close distances. They pose some hazard to swimmers, notably the unarmed, but can be reeled or netted as readily as any scrod. The three-headed cods are generally larger than the fanged variant, and both can be found close to the surface during a fog night.

• Encyclopedia Entry No. 79, 80

[We join the crew of a commercial trawler, company left unnamed to permit this revord of the onboard operations. As the ship coasts upon the outskirts of one of the smaller outcrops, fishermen gather at the fresh haul to do their work. Mackerel from all global ranges and climates incredulously line the deck of the vessel, meticulously sorted into an array of containers. One worker calls out as an unusual sight is plucked from the pile- a brown shiner with half a dozen too many eyes for an average fish. The bosun indicates for me a specific container the individual is packed into. What I find there is a collection of similar wretches, scales still twitching and mouths gasping wet with a shimmering fluid.]

“We don’t actually come across that many of them in the nets. One for about every hundred of the healthy ones. Their meat is considered tainted and has to be separated from the catch, but we aren’t allowed to return them to the environment either. They’ll stay on ice for now, later today they’ll be dropped off with a merchant who’s agreed to handle the… disposal.”

Analysis: In spite of the sheer diversity of mackerel to be seen at Blue Hole, these turned pacific mackerel are the only shared species between Greater Marrow and this living collection in such regard. Specifically, the Many-Eyed and Grotesque mackerels found in shallower coastal water. Like most aberrants, they are prone to agitation and exhibit territorial, if not predatory aggression at first contact. Like all aberrations, their blood runs a purple hue, and their sightings dry up once the fog has dissipated.

• Encyclopedia Entry No. 91, 92

[Shared anecdote from a lionfish diver]

“You have to really love a place like Blue Hole to do what I do. A lot of people don’t think of lionfish as an invasive species here, but they can do real damage to reefs where they’re not native, and ours are no exception. Worse still is that they’re far more aggressive here than anywhere else in the world, and not any less venomous. I thought if anyone was prepared to do a part in protecting local animals from these new pests, why not me? And yeah, I bagged a few. I speared things with a few too many eyes, a few too many heads, a few too many teeth. I found these great big ugly fish with no eyes at all that still would come right at you. And then I saw a… thing. The thing, Reason I don’t go night diving anymore. Came out of the dark like a ghost, black bones and green light. It didn’t look like something that should have even been real. I was lining a shot up and I felt like my arm had taken a lion’s barb. I didn’t even know what happened, that thing sparked, and I felt pure pain pulse through half of my body. Everything was panic after that. Panic to get back up and the hell out of the water. Fingers were still tingling almost until morning. All I know that I know is, I’m sticking to day hunting.”

Analysis: What’s to be expected was found in observation of the Tusked grouper. Despite their blindness, they show no hesitance to begin tracking and pursuing any nearby disturbance of water they sense. While their sole offensive boast is a strong mouth full of elongated teeth, the Voltaic variant wields a far less conventional weapon. When approached to a range of a couple of meters, it is capable of discharging a potent shock. Likely, this is utilized both as a defensive and hunting technique, similar to the currents produced by an electric eel. Similar accounts have attested to this stunning capability, reporting temporary paralytic effects from direct contact with the fish. Mechanism of this ability remains unknown. Especial caution recommended in presence of Voltaic grouper, not only for the risk of attack, but also from the drowning hazard posed by their stray arcs.

[taleofturtleclan]

MOON 4

Current squinted down into the tidepool, deeper than usual from the rain last night. Something down there shifted, rippling the surface of the water, and he leapt back, fur standing on end. “Sand, I saw something move!” 

Current’s mentor looked up reluctantly from the section of the pool he had been inspecting. “Well, we are looking for trapped fish.”

“That thing is not a fish,” Current hissed, shuddering. The way it writhed… it was uncanny, to say the least. Sand peered over Current’s shoulder, eyes narrowing before lighting up with recognition.

“Ah, that,” he meowed lightly. “That’s an octopus.”

“A what?” 

“An octopus,” Sand repeated, “And a large one at that.”

“I heard you the first time,” Current muttered, trying not to sound too embarrassed over his lack of knowledge. “I mean, what is an 'octopus'? It’s not like any fish or bird I've ever seen.”

Sand cocked his head to one side, looking thoughtful, “you know, I don’t really have a good answer to give you,” Sand admitted. “I guess kind of its own thing.”

Just then, the creature raised a glistening red tentacle from the water. Current took a nervous step back. The thing was eerie. 

"It's good that you're cautious of them," Sand meowed. "Tidechaser says they can give a nasty bite."

"Tidechaser has fought them?" Current mewed unsteadily. He couldn't imagine contending with all those awful tentacles.

"Not fought," Sand corrected, “hunted. He says they’re not bad prey if you can get them on land.”

Current was speechless. What cat in their right mind would want to eat one of those things? He’d always thought Tidechaser was mysterious, but maybe he was just flat out weird. Sand, taking Current’s silence for an invitation to continue the discussion, added, “I don’t think I could eat one myself, though. Pearl told me a story about them one late night on the ship.”

Current barely remembered Pearl. Though he hadn’t been all that young in his mind when the ship wrecked, as moon after moon passed living on the beach, he found his memories from before growing more distant. By now, he had lived here almost as long as not.

“Pearl said that once, a ship’s cat named Octavian had grown tired of his life at sea and abandoned his boat before training a successor.” Sand settled into a sitting position for a long story, his tail wrapping neatly over his white paws. Current twitched an ear to show he was listening to his mentor’s tale. He didn’t really understand it himself, but Dustjump had explained to him once that ship’s cats had a simple but strict code of honor that they all followed, the old cats teaching it to the younger ones at port: never abandon the ship you keep due to hardship, care for any cat aboard the ship like your own littermate, and do not retire until you find or train a younger cat to take your post. 

“Because of Octavian’s selfish actions, the ship he had kept met ruin on its next voyage when the rats got at the grain. Octavian knew what he had done, what the other ship’s cats would think of him, and so he ran, far from shore, far from water, to a place where he could not smell salt on the breeze. When he thought he had run far enough, he slipped inside a crack in a broken rock and waited. That night, the spirits of dead ship’s cats emerged from the tides to track him down for his transgression. They found him easily, but when they tried to drag him back to the sea, he slipped out of their paws, for Octavian was as sly as he was selfish. Suspecting that the ancient ship’s cats would come looking for him, had coated himself in fish oils. Eight times the spirits tracked him, and eight times he slid away from them, until the ninth time, when the fish oil had worn off his fur enough for the spirits to hold him. They dragged him back to the ocean, and on the shore they sentanced him, all the cats speaking as one: 'Because you fled the sea for the earth, we claim the air in your lungs and bind you to the ocean forever more.' In a single heartbeat, Octavian found he could no longer breathe the salty air. 'Because you used your legs to run from us eight times, we take your paws and turn your four legs to eight.' Octavian's paws shriveled away and fell off, and each leg split into two. 'Because you used a fish's oil to escape our grasp, we take your fur and coat you in the slime you stole' Octavian's fur fell out, and his transformation into a monster was complete. And yet, harsh as the spirits were, they respected the cunning mind that had evaded them for so long. Finally, they said 'In acknowledgement of your plan to flee us, we allow you to keep your mind so that you may use it to find a way to survive beneath the waves.' The spirits then dragged him down into the depths of the ocean where he would dwell forevermore, and so the first octopus was born.” Sand finished his story with a flourish of his tail directed at the disgusting creature. 

Current blinked incredulously at the writhing mass of tentacles. Did Sand actually believe this stuff? Dead cats emerging from the tides to punish evildoers, cats being turned into eight legged monsters, it was all nonsense! Still, he wouldn’t be eating any octopus even if Tidechaser happened to bring one back to camp. Not that he would have wanted to anyways, of course.

[sio-writes]

Best Shot - Oneshot, 6k words

NB!Lizardfolk Alien and NB!Reader - Technically SFW but past NSFW is referenced and heavily implied/glossed over. Additional tags include general hurt/comfort, implied D/S dynamics, and child-rearing anxiety (although no one is pregnant.) If you’d like me to add any tags please feel free to message me, and happy reading!

***

Vek pulls you aside into an empty hallway, face pinched and uncomfortable. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It's not like your shipmate to make a personal call. Last time they pulled you aside like this you wound up on your knees in the supply closet, but the fact that they're checking over their shoulder and down the hall, no supply closets in sight? It must be serious.

Their shoulders are hunched, their normally deep green skin has turned sallow with worry, and the mohawk-like crest on their head is pushed back into their spine. Normally, you'd poke fun at their dejected state, ask who kicked them out of bed or something equally as juvenile. But they called on you, so you must be trustworthy enough to confide in. "Sure. What's up?"

They swallow hard and look away, towards the ground in a display of shyness you'd never seen on them before. Their face darkens to a deep purple, a color you faintly recognize as embarrassment, but have never seen on them before. "I require…your body heat."

You choke out a laugh before you can stop it, and their golden eyes snap to yours, sharp and narrowed to slits. They're not kidding.

You school your expression into one of neutrality. "That's an odd way to ask for Round Two."

They grumble, "Three, technically. But it does relate."

You push the joking aside, and lean casually against the wall, arms folded. "What is it?"

They clear their throat, gathering themselves. "After our, what did you call it, a trust?"

"Tryst," you laugh.

"Yes, that. I thought I had taken my ovulation blockers, but apparently I did not, so I began my heat cycle shortly afterwards and that's when I began panicking, and--" their eyes go wide and their face turns a deeper shade of  purple before they wave a dismissive hand. "Regardless. It is my fault, but I require your assistance."

Your smile drops, and your arms fall to your sides. You have a feeling what the answer will be, but you still ask, "What is?"

Vek fishes something out of their pocket, and for one terrifying moment you think it's a bomb, and then you kind of wish it was. At first glance it looks like a disco ball, a spherical capsule the size of an apple, off white in color. You lean down to inspect the sphere, and Vek growls and jerks it back away from you. The movement is so sudden and full of emotion you're momentarily stunned, but their expression falls the moment you make eye contact, and they sheepishly offer it to you again. 

"Oh shit." 

Inside are dozens of translucent eggs each the size of a large coin, with squirming little Eilki embryos inside. Vek says nothing in response, their stony silence only broadcasting their shared powerlessness with the situation.

You're barely the age your parents were when they had you--and that was a clusterfuck of epic proportions. You can barely remember to drink enough water, let alone keep track of something else that also needs water. Wait, did Eilki babies need water? Did they need to stay wet like fish eggs? You feel yourself on the verge of becoming hysterical, so you run your hands over your hair a few times, finding it grounding in the slight pull on your scalp.

"So." You laugh shakily and fall back against the wall. "We're parents, huh?"

Your first instinct is to take the thing and chuck it out of the air-lock, but that's a lot of paperwork, and a lot of mortifying explanations. Plus with the way Vek grabbed it away just now, you wouldn't get very far before being eviscerated.

"I've already alerted the Captain," Vek says. "I am disembarking at the next port."

Your stomach drops. "You're…you're leaving?"

They furrow their large brow in confusion. "I sent out a ping for potential host families and got an immediate reply." They pause, studying you with those slitted pupils, then their face lights up in understanding. "Ah, I forgot you humans raise young for an exorbitantly long time." They puff out their chest as if proud. "After hatching we are self-sufficient after a turn of the planet, but incubation before that takes about 45 days. The trade-off with the host family is that I see to the first part since they cannot." Vek looks down as the capsule, turning it gently in their clawed hands. "Which is why I came to you. I cannot produce the necessary body heat. Humans can, and you are the one that I'm-- ahem-- closest to, and so the only one I could ask."

The smile you give them is childish. "You want me to sit on it."

They roll their eyes, the black slitted pupils disappearing behind their lids. "No. Normally we leave them in the daylight and then conserve heat by curling around them at night, but," they look out the window closest to the two of you, expression forlorn. "It is only truly night time here."

You want to point out that there's dozens of heat lamps close to the kitchens, but you're struck by something Vek said after you hooked up. You'd made some gripe or another about them being clingy, and they had a whole speech prepared on the sanctity of sharing body heat. Their culture likened it to a consummation, equivalent to sex itself, how whole clans were connected on that one facet alone, and suddenly the Eilki's propensity for orgies made a whole lot more sense to you. You'd even asked Vek why they don't just lay under one of the heating lamps that the other eilki do, and they scoffed, almost disgusted you'd even suggested it, and then said, "Your warmth is leagues better."

Vek turns the capsule in their hands again. "If you could take care of this, at least during the daily routines, and I would take it at night. That is all I ask."

Their face shifts into a bright shade of yellow, some emotion in them you don't recognize, as their gaze falls to the side. You've never seen them this awkward before, they're normally such a commanding presence. Just this morning they were barking orders and shouting at you to keep to schedule.

But, looking down at the capsule, so tiny in Vek's hands, you realize that this is your problem too. At least, for the next month or so. And you're nothing but an engineer of honor. Leaving Vek out to dry would be so shitty, and although you're sure they could handle it--a two meter high lizard could handle most things--but it wouldn't be right. So you sigh through your nose, push past the spear of anxiety lancing through your gut, and carefully pick up the capsule like it's made of spun glass. You're a temporary parent now, suck it up. "What do I need to do?"

Vek's eyes light up. "How deep are your pockets?"

***

You're elbow deep in the ship's oil reserves, feeling around with your bare hands for the ferrofluid block that keeps escaping your grasp because it's such a shitty feature that--there! Yanking the slippery bastard out of the tank flings your arm in a wide arc, spraying oil over the walls, but you can clean it later because it worked, baby! Since you're the only one in the secondary engine stores you do a little dance to imaginary music to celebrate your victory. Or at least, you think you're alone until you turn to see Vek, covered in a splash of dark brown oil and looking, well, more pissed than usual.

Vek is alone, which is weird because they usually have no less than ten other crew members by their side at all times. They must have come down to talk to you, and gotten caught in the cross-fire.

"Whoops," you laugh, leaning against the slowly draining tank of oil. "Sorry 'bout that." 

Vek stomps up to you, tongue flicking out angrily and their eyes bright enough to start a fire. Grabbing your wrist, currently covered in oil and therefore coating their hand in it, they pull your arm so their furious face winds up an inch from yours. "What are you doing?!" 

Sarcastically, you stroke their face with your free hand, smearing oil across their skin. "I'm doing my job, lieutenant." 

Their face shifts into deep blue--rage--and they grip your wrist tighter. "You think this is a game?!" 

You shoot them a finger-gun. "Life's a game, darlin'." 

Somehow their expression intensifies. This is the talk that got you a reprimand, but it's also the talk that got Vek in that supply closet. Vek's hot when they're mad, all authoritative and commanding but in the best way. You kind of want to make the floor dirtier than it already is. You run a blackened finger over the lapel of Vek's jacket, and they rear back, nostrils flaring. 

"Are you serious right now? You have bigger things to worry about, so to be so careless with--" They gesture to the front pocket of your overalls where you tucked the capsule, and their anger makes sense to you.

You arch an eyebrow. "Chill out. It's buttoned up and safe."

They scoff rolling their eyes condescendingly. "Buttoned up, oh that's lovely."

"It's fine!"

"No thanks to you!"

"I can clean it off for you if you want!"

They release your wrist to throw their arms in the air. "That's not the point!"

"What, you think I should give it to someone else?"

"No!"

"Do you wanna take it?!"

"I! Can't! I need you to keep them alive!"

You roll your eyes and drone sarcastically, "Wow, you really care about me." 

"You fuck up your own life perfectly well, but to drag another into it--" 

"Another like you?!" 

Vek stops halfway, eyes wide, mouth parted. Like you've shocked the words from their mouth. But you don't have time for this bullshit. They said what they needed to say, and you're done. 

"That's what I thought." You shove past them, not caring that you're tracking black into the hall towards the locker rooms.

You're afforded a dozen or so steps before Vek's voice rings out behind you, "Wait!" 

You keep walking.

"I didn't mean it like--" 

"Don't you fucking dare!" 

You slam the door to the locker room, leaning your weight against it in case Vek tries to bust their way in. After a moment though you don't even hear footsteps, so you release the door and start to rip off your work boots. You can't tell if you're disappointed that Vek didn't try to break the door down, or angry they left you alone to deal with this. They always see things through to the end, and leaving you alone and gross has you feeling hollow.

Whatever. You need to get this oil off before it stains your skin.

The locker rooms are like any other, if everything was rendered in chrome. The shower squeaks on like every other shower you've been in, and it takes no time at all to start steaming. You pull the capsule out of your overalls, glaring at your warped reflection as you wait for the urge to smash it to come, but it doesn't. These little shits didn't do anything wrong, except maybe rattle around your chest while you worked. Annoying, but not guilty. There's only one guilty party in this room.

 The capsule is spotless, just like you thought, and you decide to let it get some extra heat by setting it on the shelf inside the shower.

The nice thing about chrome is that it's easy to clean, so you feel zero guilt as you let your dirty overalls fall to the floor alongside the rest of your clothes. The locker rooms have spare bathrobes anyway, so you can run by your office and grab clean clothes later. The second the hot water hits your skin you groan, the tension leaving your muscles almost instantly.

You're watching the oil swirl down the drain, wondering if that's going to come back and bite you later, when you hear the door swing open and closed.

You hear the slow, lumbering steps of a predator, stopping just outside the shower curtain. And only half of you wishes they'd leave. You keep your gaze on the wall opposite the shower curtain, where it eventually falls on the capsule. The inside has fogged up, but you can see the little embryos inside are moving, like they're happy-dancing. Vek had mentioned they have a high tolerance for heat, so you grab the capsule and bring it under the water you set to nearly scalding. They're not so bad, these little dudes, they're kinda funny to watch actually. Feeling them in your pocket the past few days has turned into a comfort.

Behind you, Vek inhales like they're about to start speaking, but you cut them off. 

"I'm not talking to you," you say to the wall.

Then Vek sighs, a long, sad hissing noise that matches the tone of the shower faucet. "Then I will speak to myself, then."

More rustling, and you chance a glance backwards to see that their shadow has moved from in front of the curtain to sitting on the floor beside the stall.

They growl, a short, low note in their throat. "I don't understand why you--" they pause for a deep breath, then another that turns into a heavy sigh. "I don't think you fucked up my life. I did. And I dragged you into it." 

Vek has never admitted to any wrongdoing, ever. They'd rather argue to the end and get the last word than apologize. But then again, you're known for doing the same.

You grimace. Son of a bitch. "It takes two to tango, I guess."

They breathe out a laugh, and you imagine them crossing their arms. "I don't know what that means, but if you're admitting fault, I will say you're the seductive one."

You balk, indignant. "Me?? Who came up to me in the middle of the mess hall asking to bone?"

"I did not 'ask to bone'."

"Oh, my bad, you just waltzed up, right in the middle of my salad, and angrily asked to see me in the meeting room."

"The meeting room where you humiliated me."

You bark a laugh. "Where I called you out on your bullshit!"

"In front of all my colleagues and friends."

"What friends?"

Vek laughs, something you've only heard a handful of times, and it's an infectious noise so you start to laugh with them. The world feels right again, something's slotted back into place. You want this to work between them, so badly, but you never knew how.

The silence is heavy, until Vek asks, "May I come in?" 

You roll your eyes, but there's a smile behind it. "If you must." 

You listen to the shuffling of clothes outside, and step to the side to give Vek room as they step in. They're so large they take up nearly the whole stall, and you sigh out as they wrap their strong arms around your middle.

"I should have trusted you." 

"Yeah." 

"But please understand my worry."

"I'm sorry." You turn in their arms, holding up the capsule between you. "You really like these little guys, don't you?"

"They are a part of us," they say, voice pitched low. "Of course I do." 

"And you think I'm the seductive one?"

Vek nuzzles your shoulder, tracing their snout up your cheek. "You are."

With a sigh, you twist back around and lean into their chest. "I'm still mad at you."

Their voice is even lower when they say, "Allow me to make it up to you."

You fake gasp. "In front of the children?"

"They don't have eyes yet." 

***

For the third time in as many hours, you look over from your bed, concern making your eyebrows draw together. Through the darkness you can make out Vek on their own bed, curled around a bundle of blankets. Their long tail wraps all the way to their head, and faint green light pulses gently from their brow, marking patterns that split like veins over their rough skin. They all converge to a single point at the end of their tail before starting again at their brow, continuing endlessly in a protective circle. You've only seen Vek glow when they're sleeping, but it's never been this vibrant. It's mesmerizing, and you don't want it to stop, but you need to wake Vek up to take the eggs from them, to give them some warmth that you couldn't provide that day.

You'd been working on the ship's flight navigation motherboard, a gargantuan piece of machinery that liked to spit out heat. Normally that'd be great for keeping eggs warm, except command decided to shut off the ship while you worked, and installed a bunch of cooling fans to make the whole area feel like ice. You busted out your jacket despite the sweat rolling down your face, and the whole time you'd been worried about those damned eggs. How long could they go without heat? Vek could withstand temperatures any human could, but they always needed to warm up or risk freezing. Were the eggs the same?

After you'd told Vek how cold the motherboard had been, they merely shrugged and gave you this defeated expression before taking the capsule and muttering, "We can only see how they fare in the morning." Because they don't ask you to care after the day is over.

And now you can't sleep. Not knowing they're cold. Both of them, because holy shit this room is freezing. 

You swing your legs off the bed and pull the blanket over your shoulders. The only sound is the hum of the oxygen circulator and your bare feet against the floor. You step your way over discarded pieces of clothing and the general debris that comes with living in quarters the size of a college dorm room. 

You stop in front of Vek, your nerves making your muscles seize up, which they shouldn't. The two of you have shared this room for nearly a year. You'd seen all you needed to see and more. So why are you stopping now? Maybe it's the eggs, maybe it's something else. Vek has been softer the past few weeks and you don't know how to proceed. They've been shouting less, been helpful, you even heard them offering gentle advice to a crewmember. It's a welcome change, no one is having anxiety attacks at seeing them anymore, but it's still weird. An adjustment.

And this…thing between you two has evolved. It used to just be the occasional glance and a nod--a habit they picked up from you, they've said.  You expected yelling across the room, orders commanded from a place of authority. Curt politeness at best. Distance. It was easy. But then they started sitting with you in the mess hall, or speaking to you about inane things on the bridge, standing just too close to you like a foreboding shadow and giving any overly-friendly crewmember a narrowed gaze. The whole ship thinks you're a couple now, and you're overrun with knowing glances every time Vek pulls you aside to demand an update on your well-being. They're less pushy, like they've calmed down. 

And having Vek, strong, capable Vek, carefully wielding their power instead of throwing it around is a heady feeling, one you're quickly growing addicted to. They don't grip your arm to lead you, but apply a firm hand to your lower back. They don't outright demand you speak to them, but their steady gold eyes tell you there's no room for argument. They gently run their hand over your hair before guiding you down to their groin and keeping you there. 

You're used to the hard and fast, action first questions later kind of interactions. Even before Vek, it was heat, fire, quick fumbling and then it's over. This considerate, gentle firmness they've been offering has your brain short circuiting. The heat is still there, but it radiates through you, a fission reaction through your bones that leaves marks, leaves you wanting it again and again.

But those are specific situations. Certain social rules. It may not apply in the dead of night in your shared quarters.

You shake your head to yourself and turn away from Vek's sleeping form--it's too familiar, too intimate. You didn't even cuddle that long the first time, it shouldn't be any different now. If those eggs die, ot's not your fault. 

You're barely a step away when the blanket pulls around your shoulders. You whip your head around and Vek has a single claw hooked in the corner. Golden eyes glow in the dark as the green fades away. They blink at you slowly, like some kind of predator, and their voice is pitched low with sleep, "Where are you going?"

"I…" you start, hoping for an excuse to come to you, but you glance to the blanket instead, and Vek follows your eyes. You feel foolish. For gods' sake you had sex, and you're getting cold feet over some potentially necessary cuddling.

Vek shifts in the bed, gently pulling the blanket again. "Lay with me. Clothes on this time." You see the flash of teeth in the dark, an offering of a smile.

Again, you feel like a fool. Caught, vulnerable and wanting for something other than sexual gratification. That's what fools want.

"Keep me warm?" Vek asks, more awake yet somehow softer.

They're giving you an out, you realize. Something they've never done before. But…Vek really cares about those eggs. It's really important to them. And Vek, you realize shamefully, is pretty damn important to you.

"Scoot over," you mumble, hoping they can't see well enough in the dark to make out how dark your face is. Maybe the extra heat will help.

It takes a moment of arranging until you're curled around the capsule, and Vek is curled around you. Their scaly skin is cool against yours, even under their massive fluffy blanket, and you're silently thankful that you snuck over for the eggs' sake. Vek is large, curling one strong arm around you and pillowing their head with the other. You're hugging the capsule to your chest, and you feel a bit like a nesting doll, or a perfect little family.

The anxiety you feel around the eggs has lessened over the weeks. You're not so scared you're going to screw something up, not with Vek helping you out at every turn. The little capsule is starting to grow on you, you're glad to see it every morning, you find yourself constantly checking your pocket to make sure it's there. You can handle this. You can be responsible until you hand them off.

Vek tucks your head under the bottom of their snout and their voice reverberates down your back. "I know you didn't ask for this. So again…you have my thanks."

"I mean," you attempt to keep your tone light. "You didn't ask for it either."

"No," they concede. "But I admit I don't mind the idea of having young to look after."

"Isn't that what the interns are for?"

They snicker, the sound coming out like a hiss. They pet your head with one big hand, then return it to your waist. "This is not the line of work to be rearing young, but I am a bit upset to be giving these up."

Your breath catches in your throat, and questions pop like bubbles in your chest. You want to ask why. Why Vek is being so open, why they want to keep these. Why they continue to want your body heat and treat you like you're something precious. But you're afraid of the answer, that you already know it. The other Eilki on the ship, they must be able to smell it on you. The past week you've been met with upturned snouts, but even worse are the understanding glances, the knowing smiles that look horrifying with their jagged teeth. It can't possibly be because of you. You can't keep these, you couldn't handle it.

Vek is stroking your arm with gentle movements, and the emotion that wells up in your chest is too big to name. Your whisper is louder than the oxygen circulator, "I can't be a parent."

Their tongue flicks the top of your head, a gentle caress against your heated skin. "That is alright."

***

You trace your index finger around the edge of one of the eggs, watching the tiny forms move beneath the clear casing. In the light, the eggs are all practically transparent, and you can count the toes of each little eilki--three for the front, four in the back, just like Vek. Seeing it brings tears to your eyes--you can't give them up. The thought of being a full time parent still terrifies you, but these eggs? They've relied on you for a month and a half, they're yours. You dream of they'll look like, green like Vek, or a shade of brown? Their stupid little wiggles, the three sets of twins inside. It's a knife to the gut that you'll never get to find out about any of them, but maybe that's for the best. You fumbled the capsule a few days ago and nearly gave Vek a heart attack. You didn't drop it! But you almost did. Hardly fit for parenting.

The Decanode port is barely that--little more than a worn down metal arm sticking out of a spare moon orbiting a gas giant. You feel tetanus creeping in just looking at it, and this is where you're dropping off the eggs? At this distance, you're beginning to parse out individuals as they mill about the port. There's shops with fabric in muted colors hanging in the doorways, standalone stalls with excitable vendors, and open windows advertising things in so many languages you half expect to see English amongst them. You want to steer the ship as far away as possible. 

You frown in displeasure as it zooms into view from the holding deck, and Vek's hand rests heavy on your shoulder. You hadn't even heard them walk up.

"The family doesn't live here. They reside in a binary star system about three light-years off course."

"They're not good enough," you pout, fighting back the burning in your nose that means tears for about the sixth time that day. You shove the capsule into your front pocket. "Do we really need to give them up?"

Vek's brow raises. "You're asking me this now."

"I mean, with so many it'll be hard for a while but we could--"

Vek lifts you off the floor and holds you tightly in their arms, their voice muffled against your shoulder. "We cannot."

You deflate, your weight dragging you down even with your feet several inches off the floor. "Yeah, I know."

This is a scientific vessel, but it's still too dangerous for children, even if they are fully self-sufficient after a year. You sniff into Vek's shoulder, burying your tears into their uniform--crisp and pressed as always. 

A few groups of crew pass by as the two of you make zero movements away from each other, but you find you don't care if you make a spectacle. If the crew didn't know why the ship stopping at this shitty port before, the gossip spread fast enough to cover it. You've gotten a few extra sympathetic glances over the week, but mostly everyone is refusing to look at you. Looking at Vek is kind of a requirement of living on the ship, but you're maintenance. Practically invisible.

Their face and neck are flushed a deep green, richer and darker than their usual color. After they set you down, their face falls, pulled down by gravity and something heavier as they look out the viewing window towards the port.  

"Let's get ready."

Walking down the ramp to the port feels like a death sentence, until you spot the group of five blue Onens huddled together, waving excitedly at you step onto the port. They're too far away for your translator to pick up specific words, but you can still hear the excitement in their watery language as they talk amongst one another. You switch on the secondary translator at your throat as you approach, offering a hand in greeting, but no smile so you don't scare them with your teeth.

"Thank you for meeting with us."

One of the Onen grabs your hand, their non-Newtonian form first a solid as they squeeze and then a curl of gelatinous goo that settles over your skin. They speak a few words before the translator picks up the rest.

"--a wonderful thing that you give to us, we have raised many of this kind before so don't you worry a bit, they will have all the attention and food they could desire and--"

The Onen is cut off by another of their group, who gestures to their melting hand, currently making its way down your arm. They make a gurgling noise, likely one of surprise, before the whole thing peels off of you with a wet schlocking sound. The previous Onen waves their hand in a gesture of respect, their gaze solid and comforting.

"You are very brave for doing this."

You try not to grimace. Doubt is worming it's way into your mind like a fungus, and you want to step back and away from the group. These aliens raise other young as part of their religion, taking in anything no questions asked. What if there's other species there that these young don't get along with? And not all Onen are altruistic. They could be taking the eggs to eat them for all you know.

But then one of them pulls out a picture communicator, and passes it over the shoulder of the one in front. It works similar to a tablet on the ship, allowing you to swipe through photo after photo of all of them with various hatchlings and young. Every picture oozes happiness, you even catch them sitting in the twin suns with eilki hatchlings. And a big family who could give them the attention they deserve. No egg eating to be found. 

Your hand falls over your front pocket where you tucked the capsule, and you force yourself to say, "So how do we, uh, how do we do this?"

One of the Onen turns their liquid eyes to Vek. "They are far enough along, yes?"

Vek speaks up, their voice tight. "They're able to maintain an internal temperature. When they begin to hatch, simply open to capsule."

They nod their head to you, and you pull the capsule out of its hiding place.

"Wonderful!" One of the Onen remarks, hands reaching out to grab it but you hesitate, tucking it into your chest.

"I…" You're stuck, frozen. There has to be something you're missing. But this is the right choice. This is the right choice. You just need to move. "I don't…"

Vek steps into you, allowing you to subtly lean into their weight. They squeeze your shoulder in reassurance. "It's okay."

Slowly, in halting movements, you stretch out your arm like you're waiting for the capsule to explode. Just as slowly, with great care and steady hand, the Onen places their palm underneath as support, and waits patiently for you to finally let go.

Releasing your fingers feels like cracking your bones, but at the same time, as you watch all the Onen's expressions fall to the capsule and soften from simple patience complete and utter awe, the weight that's been hanging over you for so long lifts like a veil from your shoulders. It had you covered like a shroud, fraying your nerves with worry and despair over the unknown. But now you know they're going to be okay, and despite the gnawing hole in your chest, you can finally breathe. The Onen are perfect, you couldn't have chosen better yourself. You fruitlessly wipe at the trail of tears as they profusely thank both of you, and you forget clearing your face altogether when you watch them all walk away. The translator picks up pieces of their conversations--ideas for names, the best food. Those little shits are going to grow up so fuckin' loved.

They round the corner, and you're surrounded by patrons again. Vek pulls you into another bone-crushing hug, their breathing is short and they've turned that dark green all over. They feel solid, stable like always, something you've both needed throughout this whole ordeal.

"This sucks," your voice is muffled by their heavy jacket, but your message comes across all the same.

Vek huffs through their nose. "I know," and their hand falls across your shoulder as you head back to the ship. 

***

It's a shitty week all around, between your own head and the ship pretty much falling apart all at once. Vek hadn't been faring much better, dragging their feet and muttering commands like the wind had been sucked from their sails. So you blame your rash decision on emotional turmoil, and pulled them into your room for something quick. But quick turned into desperate and needy, built up tension bleeding out of your every move as Vek fell back into harsher habits.

But a distraction was what you both needed. Your head is more clear, and you've cried enough for the past week. Vek's breathing is even underneath you, finally calm after so many days on edge between hysteria and depression. Their direction was welcome, concrete words for you to follow between bouts of the kindness you'd gotten so used to over the weeks. They'd kissed the claw marks they left on your thighs and your heart melted.

Now your quarters are dark and quiet, trapping you in a liminal space where the outside world doesn't exist anymore. It leaves space for thoughts to flow, emotions on their heels but no longer as big, no longer as unmanageable. A question that had been sitting in the back of your mind makes itself present.

"Would you ever…want to be a parent?"

Vek glances at you sidelong. "I'd rather not go through this whole ordeal again."

"No, I mean…" You waffle for a moment too long. Vek grabs your chin in their hand and forces you to make eye contact. "I guess…"

Their eyes glow against the dark. "Yes?"

"To keep." The rest of the implication is in your voice, you hope.

They release your jaw, turning back and laying flat. Their face shifts into a darker hue--in the low light you can't for sure tell which, but you have a guess they're turning purple. "I understood that you do not want young."

"I mean, not right now. But…maybe someday?"

"Do not compromise yourself for me."

"I'm not." You press your hands flat to their chest. "I always thought I'd be alone. Raising them, I mean. And that would be a disaster. Absolute fuckery of a parent. But with you…I don't think it would be so bad. I'll never want, like, a million of them like we had. But…maybe just one? Someday? I dunno." You fiddle with your hands. "We're…kind of good together."

Vek lays their hands on top of yours, stilling them as they look at you. "You're considering this."

You flush. "I-I'm just talking."

The hands over yours wrap around your fingers, and they flick their tongue to your lips. "You would make a fine parent."

You feel like you're turning purple under their gaze. "In the mean time though…Keep taking those blockers?"

"You tell me when to stop. And if that day never comes, I will simply have you all to myself."

You smile into the hug they offer. "Sounds like a plan."

[mamamittens]

Hi! Arlong and I would like a chocolate cake milkshake with strawberry, caramel syrup and powdered sugar (for me!). Whip cream and a cherry on top, please! A red bean mochi would also be nice! Add in an Alice in wonderland, black jack (for me), pink schnapps (also me), and a hot damn too! I go by “Opal” and I’m a short (5ft) but pump person (any pronouns please) with purple hair, slightly tan skin, and blue eyes. I’m bubbly and tend to chat a lot when nervous. Oh yeah and I am autistic with ADHD

Order up! Hope it's to your taste! (side note, these milkshakes with shots in them must taste like ass irl)

This is an order for my 500+ follower event "Date Shake"! It's running through my ask box until 9/19/23, please refer to this post for context!

Warnings: Size kink, implied/references yandere, restraints, outdoor sex, and praise kink.

(the royal 'ingredient' was an oopsie so it's not in the final order)

Word count: 2,799

The seagulls woke him up first.

Their loud calls echoing over the surf and crashing waves along the shoreline. Arlong hissed, squinting his eyes against the rising sun over the water when he slowly sat up. Sand shifting and cold under his hands except where he had laid down.

Beer cans and several other members of his team were scattered across the beach. He made a note to order one of them to clean up. Usually, he would, but he had some business to attend to. Pulling out his phone, he selected a random number and sent a message about cleaning up. A phone near him chirped and he smirked.

Problem solved.

He stumbled to his feet, grimacing at the ache in his back and dry mouth. He still had time to clean up, thankfully.

Arlong trudged up the beach to his house, wiping his feet in the back entryway and setting his sandals to the side. After a late party, it was time to clean up himself.

Freshly showered and changed, Arlong hopped into his sports car, making sure to wave back at his brothers now stumbling up the beach. He wasted no time driving into town to pick up Opal.

He smirked fondly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. They’d come a long way from snot nosed brats stumbling around a failing fishing port.

Opal all too happy to chatter with the tourists and fishermen alike while Arlong ensured she didn’t get scooped up by creeps. Either by assigning ‘friends’ to go with her or following himself. A flash of his sharp fangs usually did the trick back then but now word of mouth did all the heavy lifting. No one dared mess with his ‘secretary’.

His smirk shifted into a sneer as the buildings started deteriorating. All the money he pours into the community hadn’t quite made it this far, though it wouldn’t be long now. This was where they grew up. Skipping over broken pavement and glass on the way to school. He’d moved out the first chance he got, right into a brand-new beach house. He tried to take Opal with him, but she was determined to work her way up from their roots. And he let her, so long as she didn’t grow too far. Constantly in his reach even when she went to the city for school—he had to learn how to run a business too, after all.

He stopped in front of an apartment building with ongoing renovations—his doing though Opal didn’t know it. Shooting a text to let her know he was waiting.

Barely a few beats passed and she skipped right out the front door with a wide grin.

“Arlong!” Opal laughed, rounding the car to hop into the passenger side.

“Ready to go?” Arlong asked, watching her buckle in. Despite being really short, she didn’t need to adjust her seat. She was the only one allowed to ride shotgun after all. And especially the only human he let in his favorite car.

“Yep!” Opal declared, slipping the seatbelt into a comfortable position across her chest, purple hair catching in the nylon band. She looked at him in excitement, blue eyes bright.

Arlong grinned.

“Then let’s go.” Arlong drove off towards the opposite end of town where the festival was being held. As children, it was a tradition to go and spend their meagre change on treats and cheap toys that broke in a matter of weeks. He still has a fan from when he was an awkward preteen that Opal signed as a joke. Now as adults they could spend money on nicer things.

The festival grounds were still being set up when they arrived, the activities officially starting closer to noon, but Opal wanted a proper breakfast first. So a proper breakfast they’d get. There was a restaurant nearby, a diner, where Arlong and Opal got their first jobs. It was where a lot of locals got their first jobs, in fact. Including his sister, who now ran the place.

There was already a table set aside for them and Arlong took a seat across from Opal.

“What are you going to do?” Opal asked looking over the menu indecisively.

Arlong held his tongue, refraining from saying his first thought. Which mostly was something to the effect of reclaiming his shirt that she had stolen at some point. A button up with sea life swimming between reeds, left open for a dark tank top. Under the table and out of view, Opal was wearing wide shorts that brushed her thighs—and the less he thought about that the better off he’d be. He’d been good for years now. Never crossing a line even once. But he definitely thought about it often.

Especially now that they were older and he saw her everyday in his front office manning the desk. Taking calls and general tasks he asked of her. Security sitting with her in case of trouble but mostly to ensure that no one stopped to chat for too long.

“Funnel cake and the ferris wheel for sure.” Arlong declared as she nodded sagely.

“Well, I can’t wait for the fireworks.” Opal grinned and Arlong snorted. She always insisted on watching the fireworks despite being at the festival the entire day and usually passed out immediately afterwards.

“Try not to drool on me this time.” Arlong teased, receiving an offended huff.

“That was one time! And I was six!” He laughed and waved the waitress over.

The festival was big this year, more tourists coming in than any year prior, which made traveling around the different booths more difficult than usual. Arlong had to pull Opal in close several times to avoid separation or getting bowled over. He found it amusing how quickly people parted from their path when he flashed his fangs at them.

Several hours later, many fried foods, and a lot of cheap souvenirs later the sun was beginning to set. Arlong grimaced at the crowds, recognizing that they wouldn’t get a very good spot on the festival grounds with this many people. And after hours of noise and stimulation, Opal would not want to be so close to drunk strangers.

Arlong leaned over.

“You want to go find somewhere quiet to watch the fireworks?” He asked, Opal jerking her head in a nod with a pinched expression. Arlong thought for a moment. His house wasn’t a bad choice. The whole area was relatively flat so there wouldn’t be anything blocking the view. And his front porch had comfortable seating compared to sitting on sand or a lawn chair. “C’mon.” Arlong pulled her along to the exit.

His house would also be very private.

Arlong drove back through town, smiling when he noticed Opal falling asleep next to him. It was a good thirty minute drive from one end of town to the other. The sky still not quite dark enough for fireworks when they arrived. Gently, Arlong jostled her awake.

“Mm, we’re here? Already?” Opal mumbled, rubbing her face and slowly getting out.

“Yep. Grab a blanket while I get some drinks. We can watch from the porch.” Arlong told her, hopping out to grab supplies. Opal close behind as she made her way to the hallway closet for her favorite quilt.

Arlong considered the drinks in the fridge, ultimately choosing sodas in glass bottles.

To his amusement, Opal chose to sit on the bench that rocked. Something he wasn’t surprised by considering he got it for her specifically. Scraps of fabric hanging from the bar that would usually hold an awning if he hadn’t installed in on his covered porch. Now it was just for decoration. He held out a bottle and she took it, excitedly patting the bench next to her as she fussed with the blanket over her shoulders.

Instead, Arlong picked her up and settled her on his lap, leaning back and rocking with his heels. Opal laughed, relaxing against his chest as the night sky finally shifted to a dark blue. Any minute now, the fireworks would start up. He’d funded them personally this year to ensure they were good. Almost literally burning money but he found that it was worth it to ‘waste’ money on events. It just made the next year even bigger and brought in more money to the whole town as their reputation grew.

Opal shifted, pulling the blanket out from under her to settle in on her lap.

Suddenly, Arlong was aware of a whole different issue.

Opal was short—very short compared to him. But not quite small. Generous curves and soft lines that helped Arlong not feel like he was handling a porcelain doll when he picked her up. When he first really started growing, he lorded his height over her often as a joke but he just… kept growing. Taller and taller until she was just so small next to him.

And he really liked that.

Really really liked that. It felt good to know his hand could almost go around her entire thigh. His arms thicker than her leg, including her hips. Hard muscle molding soft curves to his liking.

Arlong slipped his arms around her waist, letting his palm rest over her stomach, partially obscured by the quilt, and reminded himself that he shouldn’t squeeze or pull her closer. Mindfully, he relaxed his arms, letting them slip down a little lower as she sighed.

A loud snap echoed across the sky and lights exploded in the air. A colorful shower of red and blue sparks as the fireworks show began.

Arlong flinched, having momentarily forgotten why they were there. His rough hands reflexively squeezing her soft thigh and stomach.

In the dead quiet after the explosion, Arlong could clearly hear the soft moan of surprise. A very loud moan, actually.

“S-Sorry! You startled me!” Opal apologized quickly. Too quickly.

Arlong felt excitement race through his veins, a smirk growing.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t be man handling you like this, anyway.” Arlong slowly pulled his hands away and grinned when he felt her hands grab his wrists.

“It’s fine--!” Another explosion with crackling glitter littering the skyline.

Arlong curled forward a little, crowding into her space.

“You don’t think it’s inappropriate for me to be grabbing you like this?” Arlong asked softly into her hair, sea salt and sandalwood drifting into his nose. Arlong waited for another explosion to rock the sky and squeezed her thigh.

Right on cue, Opal moaned in the silent space after green fire lit up the sky.

“…Do you like this, Opal? Do you like me touching you?” Arlong asked. But he already knew the answer. He could feel how hot she was under his hands.

“…yes.” Opal sighed breathlessly.

Arlong slowly ran his hands back over her body, pulling her against his chest as he leaned back. Dragging up her tank top to feel her skin under his hands. Her heart thundering beneath his palm as he cupped her breasts. She panted and whined, actively helping him remove her shirt. Every explosion followed by a small flinch from the sound.

“So pretty for me. Finally get to touch you like I’ve been craving. You’re not scared, are you?” Arlong asked, drumming his fingers just over the band of her shorts.

“No, why would I be?” Opal asked breathlessly as Arlong tossed aside her bra. He fondling her breast for a moment, rolling her nipple as he kissed her bare shoulder.

He took her hand in his and spread out his fingers wide, her hand dwarfed in his.

“You’re so delicate compared to me, baby. I could ruin you.” Arlong clenched his hand around her fist, completely obscuring it.

“Please~” Opal moaned, squeaking in embarrassment as Arlong laughed. Dark, heavy pleasure settling low in his bones, his cock twitching with interest.

He chuckled, lifting up her hand and uncurling his fist to kiss her knuckles.

“With pleasure~” Arlong purred, grabbing her other hand to hold them together. He lifted them up high and plucked a thick piece of fabric from the overhead bar that would usually brush his head when he sat down. Tying it in a firm knot around her wrists was easy, though it forced her to arch over his chest—he was hardly complaining.

Several fireworks exploded in the air as he used his now free hands to tease her. Petting her sides and lifting her breasts in his hands as she squirmed uselessly. Moaning up at him when he teased them before moving to her waist. He made quick work of her shorts, shoving them down her thighs along with her panties.

He freed his cock and laughed as her thighs trembled around it, her pussy quickly drenching him.

“I should have done this years ago. You look so cute dripping on my cock. Excited, aren’t you? Thought you’d be scared when you saw me but you just want more, don’t you?” Arlong slid his hands under her hot thighs and lifted them up to her chest, kissing her temple as he rocked the bench slowly. Grinding her against his cock as she was pulled up. “You look like a toy. Does it feel good, baby?” Arlong asked, well aware it did from how she trembled in his arms, gasping for air while she drooled over his cock.

“Y-Yes! O-Oh, Arlo-aahn~!” Opal cried out, breath stuttering as she drenched him.

“My cute little mess, you’re missing the show~” Arlong teased as she squeezed her eyes shut. Arlong lifted her up more, cock slipping against her ass as he lowered her into place. The tip catching on her cunt, sliding right in from how wet she was. “Can you feel it—nngh!—I sure can, you’re so damn tight. Relax. You can’t take it if you don’t relax.” Arlong chided her as he grunted, slowly feeding her pussy more of his thick cock.

Cream oozed out with every inch, forced out by his cock’s relentless encroachment. Not helped by her jerking movements that fucked her on his cock erratically.

“Ah-hhahh~! Oh! F-Fuck~!” Opal moaned as he finally sank in as deep as he could go, cock grinding against her walls. She hung over his chest helplessly, voice drowned out by the explosions across town.

Arlong panted, squeezing her thighs before letting go. She hung there, unable to sink deeper despite not quite taking his whole cock. Shifting his legs, Arlong braced himself and thrust up his hips.

Opal screamed out, her entire body bouncing to his pleasure.

Grinning, Arlong rocked forward, dragging her off his cock a few inches before leaning back. She slid into place further down as he laughed.

“What a pretty look for you~” Arlong sighed, rubbing his hands over her sweaty body. “But you can take more, can’t you? I just feel so generous—indulge yourself~” Arlong asked, though he didn’t wait before lifting his hips up again. Her ass met his thighs with a startled gasp, his hands pinching and rolling her breasts as he started a steady rhythm. She still had a couple of inches to go and he wanted her to feel every inch.

Leaning forward slowly, dragging out his cock before rolling back, lifting his hips to hilt into her quivering pussy when she had the most slack. She still bounced on his lap, cunt struggling to take him. The bench creaking beneath them as he used it to fuck her. Fireworks puncturing the air as they panted. He tried to go slowly, but she felt so good he started throwing himself back harder for a chance to hilt faster.

Steadily, she took more and more of his cock as she adjusted to his size.

“A-Aaaarlong~! O-Oh! Oh! A-aaahhn~!” Opal threw back her head, jerking her arms against the tie as she came. Squeezing his cock so hard he hissed and slammed back the bench to hilt. His legs shuddered and he swiftly pulled out, dragging out a startled scream as he came over her chest.

They panted, Arlong falling back as the fireworks show reached a fever pitch. Unsteadily, he reached up and loosened the knot, letting her fall onto his lap completely with a breathless laugh.

“Such a good girl for me… you like the show?” Arlong chuckled, head rolling back as the cool night air drifted over their heated bodies.

Opal moved, sitting up and gripping his thighs before slamming down onto his lap—taking his cock to the hilt.

“Y-Yes!” Opal shuddered, Arlong’s hands slamming over her waist.

He grinned, barely glancing at the bright sky filled with crackles and explosions.

“Then I guess it’s time for an encore.” Arlong conceded, lifting her up to slam back down with a wet smack.

[diseased-rat-in-a-trashcan]

tell me about your characters...... i would like to know everything possible. all your favorite details and everything

!!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO !!!! I'll only talk about the main story's characters because this would get way too long if I talked about ALL my characters :D also the story might be a bit messy the way im talking about it because i tend to talk about things out of order sorry

Kieran is the captain of the Starry Pirates! He doesn't remember most things about his past because he got turned into a vampire (it's a curse and can be cured [most curses can be] but the ingredients for the cure are very hard to find) and all he remembered was his name and other basic information. He's wanted to be a pirate for as long as he can remember! he's also trans and has purple hair and red eyes from the curse and sort of hates himself and doesn't feel like he knows himself at all because he can't remember anything from before

Aidyn found Kieran not long after he was turned, her first instinct was to try to help him because he was just kind of. passed out on a bench. Aidyn comes from a pretty well off family, she's been very connected to her magic ever since she was a child and her mother enrolled her in a school for sorcerers like her! She loves books and knowledge and is pretty well liked by her classmates, and her and Kieran hung out a lot after school before they left to the sea. Aidyn lives with her aunt, and her aunt is good friends with Sylvia the cleric! (i'll get into her story more later) ((aidyn and kieran are both trans, most of the crew are some kinda transgender))

and so at some point they left to the sea, sylvia wanted to quit her job because she wasn't helping the kind of people that she wanted to and felt xe would be more useful on the crew

at a port town they meet Magma! They're a mix of a rainwalker and a blazewing, and because of this his magic does not work properly and takes the form of extremely weak steam instead of fire or water. Fairies like them can't use magic outside of their own magic, so he started working with alchemy and potions. they took up a job at an inn in their free time, and the starry pirates (at the time only aidyn, kieran and sylvia) ask him if they're interested in joining the crew. he's bored and has nothing better to do, so they say yes and they go and say bye to their moms and head out!

they want to rob a bank in one of the cities in the trees, and they wouldn't have made it out of there without the help of Amaryllis Sunpetal, an underpaid blacksmith, and her 2 children Aspen and Sparrow. She hates her job and can barely afford to feed herself and her kids and pay bills, so joining this crew feels safer than their current state of living.

While they're fishing one day, Cliff the aquatic person (their race doesn't have a name yet and maybe it never will because this works) sees them and decides to hop on the ship and ask to join the crew! they said sure and that it would be nice to have allies from the water below them. She reeeaaally hated the culture in the reef that they're from and always wanted to be a pirate, but her parents forced them to train to be a knight instead. They come from a noble family and were pretty close with the prince of the reef, but she'd much rather be a pirate than stay there any longer. In the school that she studied at, they taught disguise magic in case they had to go to the surface. also aidyn has a cat called crow and kieran has a seagull that just follows the ship around

Sylvia Goldleaf is a windwraith, a type of winged creature similar to an elf. Xe suggested that expanding the cities of the sky down to the mountains below would be a good thing to do, and was consequentially kicked out along with her sister who held the same ideals. Now both fallen, their wings are removed and only scars remain on their backs and they can no longer use the names given by the people of the sky cities.

Over the course of this story, Kieran's magic is corrupting and his curse is gettting worse, he's needing more and more blood to survive and it's getting difficult for him to keep control of his body and thirst. Eventually, he's realized that he has run out of viles of blood, and he knows that if he exits his room someone will get hurt. Aidyn is worried and goes to check on him, she gets bit and turned to a vampire as well uh oh but this is near the end and they do get a cure eventually. Before that, though, big fight oh no and aidyn admits to never wanting to be a pirate in the first place (the fight reminds me so much of the song be nice to me by the front bottoms. I could explain why some other time)

when they get the cure, 2 healing gems are needed and they only stole one. Sylvia has a gem that allows xem to use stronger magic, but she uses it to get a cure for both aidyn and kieran. they are all happy for a while and kieran finally gets to eat real food instead of be starving every moment of his life. the guardians (essentially police) spot them and (most) of the crew gets away, but aspen and kieran get captured and kieran ends up having to cut his long hair and that hurt him a lot

maggie expresses a want to know more about his rainwalker culture to aidyn at some point earlier in the story, and upon coming back to their moms he finds that their mother Flame realizes that she should have let her child understand this part of themself earlier instead of trying to block it out and hide it away, she should have seen him for all that they are instead of only a blazewing (love that part of the story)

the queer rep: cliff is nonbinary (she/they) and maggie is also nonbinary (they/he) Aidyn is transfem and Kieran is transmasc (t4t pirates <3 <3) sylvia is sex/romance repulsed aroace and amaryllis is demirose, aspen got that transgender swag from living with rats and pirates most of xeir life

keep in mind these are only characters from part 1 of vampire pirate story. this is way too long already maybe I'll make another post about pirate story part 2

[alwayslosingtheplot-blog]

Make a world with me Part 6

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 3.5, Part 4, Part 5

Auloniad

The mountainous isle, Auloniad is very hard to raid. It is also one of the smallest of all of the settled isles. There are only a few spot that are safe to land on the island, broken off from the peninsula Nephele by a deep valley channel. There are ruins in this channel, suggesting that once this valley was not engulfed by the sea and separated.

However, all of these places to land are cut off from the rest of the island but one where tunnels and paths have been cut to allow human travel. They are also very likely to be the den of sea snakes.

Snakes in general seem to love Auloniad and these, along with other poisonous beasts and the birds that eat them, are the main concern and danger for the people who live here.

There isn't a lot of space for people on Auloniad, with arable land being sparce and foraging being so dangerous. Fishing is limited, as nets are all but useless given that one sea snake in a catch can poison the entire thing.

There are mines on the island, but they are small and ill-equipped. Trade is limited as well due to the small nature of the inlet to the one landing spot.

It rains often, but storms are rare and the main danger is a unusually high tide that might bring the sea snakes by their feet.

In the past others have tried to siege the people here by blocking this port, but failed. The people here are quite used to living here, and can live for some time by hiding in the mountains and eating the miniature goats, quail and fluffy rabbits they rear for meat and clothing. Much longer than any invaders could last after there food supplies run out (or are spoiled by a sea snake corpse hidden among them).

Despite this, Auloniads are very welcoming to strangers. They have to be. Most children here are sent off when they become adults to live elsewhere. They are the most likely of any of the nations to become Explorers.

Poisoners from other isles often come to Auloniad to study, and this is permitted and encouraged. Sometimes military groups from other nations will come to Auloniad on survival training, landing in the main port to learn as much as they can before travelling to one of the lesser, isolated ports.

All outsiders are introduced to every family in Auloniad in hopes that they will remember their children later on when their parents sent them out into the world for their 'Seeking'. Everyone is sent out at fifteen and they are not allowed to return until they are twenty one. Most do not come back at all, but some do and are welcomed back with great love.

It is a folk tale that the god of death brought a man to Auloniad to seek his death wife. The man was said to be the cleverest in all of the lands and had challenged the god of death in order to return his lover back to life. But when he found her he mistook the shadow of her hair for one of the island's snake and struck her with his sword. The god of death took pity on him them and gave to him a son and daughter, but forbade them from leaving the island, which was the founding of this nation. Men would come to court the daughter later, but the son tried to leave to find a wife. He drowned, but some myths have him meeting a mermaid under the water, marrying her and becoming a protector of their waters.

There are no feasts on Auloniad par one. Most auloniads will get married elsewhere - even though they often find each other on other isles. However, there is a communal wedding day here as well. The flowers are not held in the hands but are arranged as if climbing up the brides' arms and into their hair. Men only have to wear a new cloak instead of an entire new set of clothes and offers are made to the sea and to the mountains to safe-guard them from harm.

There are dozens of unnamed villages in the mountains of Auloniad, but only one town worth mentioning - which bares the name of the Island itself. There is a small village in a valley near the centre of the island named Death's landing, and this is where most religious events take place. This is where naming days, weddings and funerals happen and is home to the only temple on the island (although their are hundred of small shrines to all kinds of gods.)

Auloniad is incredibly beautiful, full of thousands of streams and waterfalls that come down the mountains and amazing views. A rare artist is sent to Auloniad by their patrons to produce works of rare worth - although most go to Aurea.

Last names on Auloniad are quite important to avoid inbreeding so children carry a family name for both their mother and father, focusing on the material line. For example: Behi Navic Riten (f) and Diece Imer Aper (m) have a child. That child will be called Orene Aper Riten.

[sea-of-monster-s]

Sea Of Monsters: The Crews Beginning

Chapter 1: A Shimer Among The Waves

 It was another sunrise at EnvLuck island, it's not the biggest island there is but it has a pretty large population of creatures and humans that hate each other in every way. The island is also the hotspot for every pirate there is. EnvLuck has large rocky mountains, lush forests where humans usually live in small villages, far away from the "monsters", the mountains are usually occupied by the largest, most dangerous monsters there are. The shoreline has many ports and buildings on it, there are usually a lot of merchants from far away selling or trading a lot of amazing items. The Island itself is surrounded by a large kelp forest, in the ocean there are also the most hated and feared creatures. The sea creatures are considered the most unknown and evil monsters there are, not only are they tricky and can tear thru ships like butter, they know all the secrets of the old past. They don't know that almost all of them are in deep slumber, but how would they know that?

 Our story begins not on land but underwater, just as the kelp forest ends. Hire is a little village of sea creatures. They arent big feared monsters but normal sized creatures, they call themselves "Sea People" but that's far from the truth. Their appearance is odd, they have pretty big eyes that glow cyan when surrounded by darkness, they are also able to see in the dark. They have a short nose and sharp teeth that they use to hunt for smaller fish,their scales are lighter blue color and they are really shiny when light shines on them when they are wet. They have long, dark blue strands of hair, their hair isn't like our hair, it's slimy and really durable, their gills are on their neck and fins are on their back and arms. They also have a long beautiful tail that they use to swim faster, their feet and fingers are webbed to serve the same purpose as the tail. They also have sharp little claws with little hooks at the end of each of them, they use them for all sorts of stuff like cutting, deboning, hunting, even crafting and decorating at some occasions. Their village is a pretty average one,the villagers live inside gigant coral houses, the corals have many holes in them and are hollow inside. This makes it so the sea people can dig a nice little home for them, the villagers live off fruits that the kelp forest provides, and also every month they go hunting for a big sea monster to feast upon.

The creature that we're gonna start with is named Suzie, she is almost like any other young sea person, but her instincts are somewhat sharper than everyone else. She wakes up and begins her day by checking herself in the mirror, she then gets dressed in some shirts that are made from algae and uncovers the blings to get room, the view from her window almost covers the hole village and a small part of the kelp forest, the light from the sun started to shine down on to the coral structures, and barely breaking thru the kelp forests thick above part.

-Suzie!- Her mother yelled from the kitchen -Your Breakfast is ready!-

Suzie stormed out of her room, happily swimming towards the kitchen, when she arrived she greeted her and sat down at the table

-So what have you prepared mother?-

-You'll see, just give it a few minutes to cool down, by the time being let's set the table- 

-Alright..- 

 Suzie began to wonder what her mother cooked, because there was no smell or anything. As soon as she sat down her mother cooked Suzie's favorite meal, a big prawn. Suzie was really happy and eat it whole in no time

-Suzie- her mother spoke

-Yeah?-

-you know that today is a special day- Suzie was a bit confused but remembered that today was the end of the month, witch ment the big hunt was coming -yeah, today is the big hunt-

-that's correct! And you know what else?-

She was even more confused but then she realized something, she is finally old enough to go on one! -YOUR SAYING I CAN FINALLY GO ON ONE?!-

-Yes you can!-

She jumped up from that information, she was so excited that she could scream all day, but that feeling was stopped by a ceiling. After that situation they both swam out at begone their daily duties, today is a big day after all, they went into the kelp forest to collect kelp, so it's gonna be used to craft a big net to catch the sea monster in, Suzie collected it really fast, which meant she could go anywhere she wanted, just like that she swam dipped into the kelp forest, when she was at the end of it she swap up and searched for her favorite spot to lay on and enjoy the sunny day, a lonely rock near the EnvLuck island, once she found it she quickly got on it and started looking around, above the waves. It was a nice cloudy day on the surface, the creatures on the island were not much active at the docs, the pirate ships were readying to depart the port to venture on the great sea of unknown. Suzie's scales were losing their shimer, but she kept her guils wet so she can breathe easier, she can breathe the normal air but she's slowly getting used to it, that's why she's coming here after all. 

-Howdy there Creature!-

 A sudden voice snapped Suzie back to reality from admiring the peaceful scenery of the waves, she looked over from where the voice was coming from. It was the old man Wally. He is a fisher man with a small but strong wooden boat, he comes from time to time to Suzie to have a chit chat about the sea and the islands. Wally wasn't so friendly at first, when he saw Suzie for the first time he was scared but also curious, then Suzie started to act friendly towards him and their friendship grew, Suzie teached him how to look for good fishing spots, and Wally toth her human language.

-hi there Wally!, How you've been?-

-pretty good, today's fishing trip didn't gone as well as i expected but i'll survive, and how your day going?-

-today nothing interesting happens for now, but tonight i'm going to my first monster hunt!-

-monster hunting your saying? Once in my young years I saw them, cursed creatures. But good for you I bet that y'all are going for the big one, ey?-

-Yeah, and i think about bringing you the skull of it after we had our feast-

-you'd really do this for me? I feel honored-

-yeah the skull is pretty useless for us, so you can have it-

-well alright thanks! I'll be going now, stay safe creature-

-bye, Wally!-

 It was time for Suzie to go back, she's been out of the water for a while now, and she needs to help the others prepare for the big night. She went back into the water bringing her skales much needed hydration that caused them to shine again, she swam back into the forest and acted like nothing happened, the sea people started to prepare the giant net and a lot of weapons for the night.

 The sun was finishing to set and thus begoun the preparation, since it was Suzie's first time she didn't get a spear but was there just to watch, she didn't knew that yet but she went anyway, she always wanted to witness hunting but she didn't knew that she wont feel it

-Alright Suzie- Her mother sead -are you ready-

-yes mother, i am!- Suzie sead happily

 The sea people began to swim deep in the kelp forest, they swam for a while but they suddenly stopped. The leader of the group gave out a silent call for the group to take positions, Suzie was not sure what was happening, but her mother told her that Suzie is going to love it. When the group left to their positions Suzie finally saw the monster, it was a giant squid like creature.

 Suddenly the leader screamed loudly and the battle began, Suzie tried to join in but she was stopped by her mother. She really wanted to go but she couldn't. She was really disappointed by her mother, she always told Suzie that she would kill one the first time she could go hunting. She started to tear up and swam away from there, her mother tried to stop her, but Suzie shoved her away and continued to swim. She stopped when she got to the loney stone. She sat at the bottom and cried, she didn't know what she did wrong, well she knew that she did everything right but why wouldn't her own mother let her have fun on her first ever hunt day.

 Suzie calmed down a bit, but she now feeled ashamed to go back. Because she felt like her mother would be mad at her because of her actions, at that moment she felt like her whole world had fallen down and wouldn't be rebuilt. but suddenly she saw a glowing light above her, she swam away from it, but it slowly descended down until it hit the bottom. Suzie carefully approached it and it was a necklace with a beautiful cyan crystal, the crystal was glowing the same color as her eyes. Suzie took the necklace and started swimming upwards to return it, but she saw nothing, it was a stormy night and no ship or boat could've dropped it. Leaving her no choice but to take it.

 Suzie decided to sleep near the village inside the kelp forest, so that she will feel safer there. She slowly swam back, still admiring the mysterious necklace. She saw the village lights, she could see that they were having fun, and feasting on the giant creature. She felt like she didn't belong there anymore finally she laid down on the sandy floor and slowly drifted to sleep.