#this is me trying my hand at the whole mermaid x fisher thing

[faytelumos]

Fishing Fiasco

cw: use of alcohol

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She probably should have realized when she'd had a fourth beer, gathered up all of her fishing equipment, gone to the deepest pier on the beach, and sat down in a folding chair in the middle of the night, that she was asking to get her ass kicked by a giant fish. But she cast her line after nearly forgetting to set the spool, leaned back, and continued to kiss the bottle.

Really, she could probably justify it by the extreme amount of emotional fatigue she was experiencing. Not that she believed in that sort of thing. But some people did. So it was maybe a good enough excuse some of the time.

Either way, it was probably her own damned fault. The line went taut, and she grabbed the reel and started tugging it in, like any other catch. First of the night, and it hadn't even taken that long. It didn't feel like a heavy fish, and she calmly set aside her drink and put both feet on the pier to better brace.

The line went slack for half a second, and just as she was reaching to take up the slack, whatever was on the other end heaved.

She fell from the chair, glass clattering to the wood as she scrambled to get back to her feet, but never once did she let go of the pole.

At least she had good fishing instincts.

She managed to get her feet under her just in time to brace wide-stanced against the final posts in the pier, but even then she nearly toppled ass-over-teakettle into the water. Whatever was on the line now, it was big. She pulled the pole hard, but she was starting to wonder if the thing on the other side was too strong for it. She slackened the line to reel, but it was so fast she barely got any in before she had to pull again.

"C'mon, you slippery bitch," she growled, using her legs to get the damned thing in. The pole felt like it was straining, and it was by God's grace she hadn't lost her balance yet, leaning back hard enough to touch the wood.

Which is why, when the line went dead, she fell right on her ass.

And looking out over the water, with the line still moving at the end of the pole, her "good instincts" should have told her to run.

The thing burst out of the water with a high-pitched scream, and she screamed back, dropping the pole and clawing to get away and up the pier. It fell on her, claws raking her arm and catching her ankle, and she fell again, snared. She turned, looking into the dark eyes of some kind of woman as it (she?!) opened a mouth of needled teeth and turned to her leg.

The fisher screamed in shock and kicked the fish-woman-monster in the face. It let go of her leg and she clamored upright, running over the dock with the horrific screaming and scrabbling and scrambling sound following her. She screamed again, just in case it helped, and then there was a sound like the folding chair joining in the fight.

The fisher turned around, panting as the chair crumpled and tumbled, a four-foot fish tail waving in the air with the raspy, angry screeching as the chair and fish went overboard. The splash in the water below was decidedly unimpressive, and then the entire dock was silent.

The fisher stared, chest heaving, heart pounding, hands shaking. Whatever the fuck that was, it hadn't been willing to end up in her cooler. She glanced down at the spilled bottle on the wood, dripping into the water below.

Yeah. That was probably for the best.

The fishing pole was still there, on the far end of the pier, knocked to the side, teetering on the edge. It was a miracle it hadn't been dropped into the water, but at least the line seemed to have finally snapped. With weak legs, she crept over to retrieve the sole survivor of her late-night endeavor.

She hadn't made it halfway when the thing breached a second time, landing on the pier like it had done so a million times, blood on its face, and hissed.

She was so stunned by the prominent cheekbones, red hair, and shimmering scales that she didn't even run at first.

But as soon as it started hand-running at her, she turned and took off like a shot, and she didn't stop until she got home and slammed the door.

---

next

[1soos]

Works in Progress Tag

I was tagged by @wenotes Ren, you’re my favorite Sailor Scout. 

It took me so long to do this.

I’ve only done 6 wips here because it got too long and some of my other wips are too embarrassing to expose rn.

Series

Magnets: untitled chapter 2 – jikook – mechanic!jungkook, dance major!jimin…sort of

Rated: M

a/n: the first chapter was for a fic exchange on ao3 and this chapter is because I found I had more to say. I literally just started writing this the other day. I’ll post this one on ao3 once it’s done.

Dating is a concept with which Jungkook is wholly unfamiliar. He’d dated briefly in high school, but that had been more camouflage and self-preservation than an actual relationship. He has no first-hand experience, no idea how things like this are supposed to progress. Of course, he’d seen fictional relationships play out on television, but right now they seem thoroughly unhelpful. Jungkook wasn’t an assassin who vowed to protect Jimin from a contract killing or a supernatural being who learns what it means to be human through Jimin’s attention. He’s utterly himself.

 Just Jungkook. Who avoids all conversations that revolved around colleges or a future that he can’t afford; who works as an apprentice mechanic in a family friend’s garage most of the week and paints houses with his dad during the days left over and danced or drew at night; who is so painfully shy and in his own head that he would have never talked to the boy he’d wanted from afar for so long if he hadn’t spoken to Jungkook first.

 He feels horribly inadequate beside this boy that people wanted to be around; who goes to college; who is in an actual dance troupe; who has a future outside of this city; who managed to make himself so precious to Jungkook in so short a time.

 Jungkook is terrified that it’s only a matter of time before Jimin realizes how much he’s lacking. He’s been trying to prove his worth from the moment Jimin woke up with a raging hangover the morning after their impromptu field trip.

  Tentative title: A Fish Tale – mermaid!yoongi part 1 – Yoongi x reader

Rated: PG-13

a/n: I’ve been working on this since June (?) and I keep getting stuck. Tbh looking at it now, this will probably turn out to be more of an info sheet for me to use while writing the actual thing.

Watching Jungkook had always been your job; to make sure he was safe while he discovered the outside world. Had been your job since he was a baby just learning to splash in the little pools of ocean water, learning to love the water and the life in it’s great blue depths from the relative safety of the tide pools. It was necessary for the young to be assigned protectors. To make sure that he stayed in your sight always, too many children had wondered too far out and been lost forever to those who loved them on land. Elders in the community, not wanting everyone to be afraid of the water that surrounded them on all sides and brought them joy as well as despair, tell stories of a race of liminal creatures that would find the lost children and raise them as their own. A fish tale, really, that no one believed past their tenth year.

You are well past your tenth year and so is Jungkook, but the watching had become a habit. After all, death by drowning didn’t only happen to children and just moments ago, he’d dived under the crystal waves to scavenge who knows what. And though you trust him to resurface, flipping his hair back, gulping air like his lungs were going to burst if he’d stayed under a moment longer, you still hold your breath with heart beating fast. It’s better than when you counted the seconds, though; every mounting moment an illustrated and numbered anxiety.

You don’t go in the water. You won’t. That’s why Jungkook started scavenging in the first place, to bring the ocean to you, he’d said. They were always beautiful, always the best of what the ocean had to offer. It’s a rule of the island that you aren’t allowed to fish individually, for food, but especially not for sport. It is a rule that you and Jungkook know all too well with a council member for a mother and a fisher for a father. So, when the thing is living, Jungkook won’t leave the water with it and you must get as close to the water line as you dare to view whatever miraculous creature he’d discovered that day.

You’re thinking of a particular day when Jungkook was young and brought back a horseshoe crab. You called it ugly and he scolded you, saying that he was sure that to other horseshoe crabs it was very appealing. You’d smiled and agreed and Jungkook set it free, giggling as it scuttled away.

 Prequel: The Wrong Girl – vigilante!au – Hoseok x OFC

Rated: M for thematic elements, action, cursing, and future smut

a/n: so this is kind of a cheat. I’ve posted this elsewhere, and I haven’t touched it to work on it in 7 (!!!) months, but I suddenly got inspired to re-write some of it and continue to write in this au, so I’ll probably start posting these soon. Here’s a bit of the prologue.

“You’ve got the wrong girl.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I think you’re exactly who I want.”

“You don’t want to do this.”

“I really, really do though.” He steps toward her with his hands out, ready to grab at whatever part of her body he can reach. “You thought you could take what’s mine and I would just let you? Is that what you thought?”

She doesn’t say anything; she just lifts up her hands in front of her, palms facing the thickly muscled man approaching her.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, voice dripping with condescension, “are you going to beg now?” A terrifying toothy grin spreads its way across the man’s face and he takes another step toward her. “If you give back what you took, I promise you’ll make it out of here alive.”

She makes her eyes go wide and her mouth tremble and pout. “You promise?”

He smiles like he knows he’s got her. He raises his right hand and looks skyward and says, “I promise.”

She swallows, but she sets her jaw and her eyes narrow. “Bullshit. I’m not telling you where they are. They’re people, not objects. And even if I did, there’s no way you’d let me live. You’re gonna have to kill me.”

“Baby, baby, baby—“he accents every ‘baby’ with a shake of his head—“I’m not going to kill you. First, I’m going to make you tell me where they are—“he laughs wickedly, eyes still running over her slowly—“oh, it’s going to be so painful, I honestly don’t think you’ll last very long, and then I’m going to add you to the squirming pile of peddled flesh before I send it to my buyer.”

She wants to vomit. Why did he have to be one of those grossly verbose bad guys? She wished he’d hurry up and make his move, mostly so this cliché exchange could end. She was getting tired of waiting. She can’t attack, not when she’s so much smaller than him. She needs to wait, keep surprise on her side and then use his own momentum and weight against him.

His steps forward are slow, like he’s trying to lull her into a false sense of security. He wants her to stay where she is so when he decides to grab her she won’t be quick enough to get away, but that’s exactly what she wants. She wants him close.

God, I almost wish I believed in guns. This shit would be over so much faster.

Suddenly, he’s so close to her she could probably see her reflection in his enormous white teeth if such a thing were possible. Her heart speeds up and she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She’s careful not to tense too soon; she doesn’t want to telegraph her moves, but it’s a delicate balance. If she waits too long, he’ll be on her and then there’s not much she can do.

Then she sees the look in his eye. From the very beginning of their encounter, he’d been carefully controlling his face and eyes, it was almost terrifying how calm and affable he’d been about the whole thing (the ‘whole thing’ being a random woman showing up and freeing 20 people from a metal shipping container and a life of sex slavery and then leading him on a merry chase at the shipyard where shit like this always seems to take place). Now, she catches a glimpse of the evil bubbling underneath and for the first time that night, she is truly afraid. He comes for her and she hesitates.

A shot rings out and the man crumples into a pile before her.

 Power!au – EXO – Yixing x Reader

Rated: M for thematic elements, action, cursing, and eventual smut

a/n: I’m going to be really honest and say that I don’t really like this. I’ve re-written it 3 times and I can’t manage to get it the way I want it and it’s super frustrating. This is from the first draft, because I tried to switch it from ‘reader’ to first person limited and wow, I suck at that.

When your friends told you they were planning a trip to the mountains and asked you to come along, you were hesitant. You got that feeling in the pit of your stomach. They called you afraid and scared-y cat and chicken shit, but that’s not it. Not all of it.

How do you explain that you know something bad is going to happen, that you have always known when something bad is going to happen? It was like an extra sense or a heightened Fight or Flight response or something.

But then your brother was going and there was no way you were letting him go without you.

“You never do anything fun,” he’d said. You’d argued and begged him not to go, but he’s one of those people that you don’t want to say no to. He’s always chasing the next rush and you are almost always beside him when he does it, just in case.

  Series? One-shot? Who knows??

 Ghost!au – BTS all members vs. a ghost investigation team

Rated: ??? probably PG-13 unless something happens and I change the way this is going before I get too far.

a/n: I started this while I was sick and all I wanted was to watch Most Haunted and sleep. I have another ghost!au idea that’s totally different and will be with a different group, but I haven’t written anything down about it other than notes, so. Also, this is literally everything I’ve written for this one.

“Hello? Is there anybody here that would like to talk to us? One for yes and two for no.” The woman tells the people around her to stop talking as she cocks her head to one side to listen for an answer.

Several knocks are heard from several areas in the room, but the woman hardly bats an eye, other members of her team are not so composed, before saying, “One at a time, please. Can one of you tap out how many people are in this room?” She tucks her hair behind her ear and assumes a look of intense concentration as the rest of the crew tense up to count.

The scene is almost comical, five grown adults standing in a loose circle, looking everywhere but at each other, all mouthing along to a barely audible tattoo. It’s the kind of atmosphere that breeds the nervous laughter that is usually found at funerals and weddings and other functions where you are expected to observe a level of reflective decorum, if only the tension would break.

But it only builds alongside the ascending number of knocks.

The woman finally lets out a breath and looks to another woman beside her. “Twelve. I heard twelve.”

The other woman, with wide eyes and hand gripping a chunky metal cross around her neck, agrees.

A man with a camera speaks for the first time since entering the room. “Including us?”

One knock.

“Oh jesus, okay, so seven.” He wipes the sweat that’s gathered on his forehead and giggles along with his camera carrying companions.

It’s infectious and soon everyone is snickering and poking at their neighbor, each telling another that they should have seen the look on their face.

Finally, the woman in charge says, “Seven is a lot, especially for a house that isn’t very large or even very old, but we can work with it.” She rubs her hands together, more warmth than anything else before she asks the most important question: “Do any of you want to cause any of us harm?”

The knocks that had been so forthcoming previously were eerily absent. The group waits, but after a few minutes of silence, they decide that the whoever was there before must have moved on to different rooms.

However, the air of indecision presses down on them, like the spirits might hurt them if they felt like it. That feeling has the woman shaking in her boots, not that she’d let them see that, not yet anyway, when there hasn’t been any action beyond basic communication, but if they started throwing shit, showing poltergeist activity, then she’d be perfectly willing to lose her shit in front of everyone, she’s not about to open the door to real harm.

  Drabbles

 Vampire!jinyoung 4 – Jinyoung x Reader sort of.

Rated: R for cursing and thematic elements

a/n: so I’ve only posted one of my vampire!jinyoung drabbles, but I have a few planned out and there are 2 between this one and the first one where I know what I want to happen, I just haven’t written them yet.

 You were lying lazily across your sofa. The book you’d initially been so excited to read, had suddenly lost your interest and you are moments away from slipping quietly into sleep.

The next time you open your eyes, you’re in total darkness. You groan as you stretch. That was definitely more of a sleep than a nap.

You get up and stumble your way to the light switch, putting your hand over your eyes before flicking upward and bathing the room in sharp, white light. You slowly move you hand away from your eyes, letting it reach you in manageable bits.

Blinking and squinting rapidly, you barely register the top of a dark head of hair peeking over the top of your favorite chair, but then that head moves and you let out an undignified shriek.

He turns and looks at you quizzically while you rub your hand over your heart.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” In the dark…with me? You add in your head.

“Were you watching me sleep? That’s…actually really creepy, Jinyoung. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“The thought did occur to me.” And that’s all he says on the subject. You know because you wait for him to give you some kind of explanation or even a half-assed apology, but he remains silent.

You rub your hands over your eyes trying to rid them of residual sleep. “Whatever. Why are you here? I didn’t think you’d come back after last time.”

“Why would I not come back? I like our talks.”

“Really?” he could have fooled you. When he wasn’t talking down to you or sneering at humanity in general, he was standoffish or at best indifferent. He never asked you questions about yourself which hadn’t bothered you at first because you were so caught up in unravelling the mystery of the vampire, but now you’re getting pretty tired of how one sided whatever this is, is.

“Of course. It’s the highlight of my existence.” You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not and to be honest, you’re kind of fed up with the whole thing.

“Did you need something, Jinyoung?”

 Honorable Mentions aka stories that I know I’m going to write, but haven’t started yet:

 70s New York City power outage!au – crossover fic – will be told from several perspectives

 A slice of life, domestic!jennie one shot for my girl, Lex. I have a ton of notes for this fic, I honestly don’t know why I haven’t started writing it?

 Ghost!jongin – Jongin x Reader – reader is a single mom and Jongin protects them from evil spirts in their home.

I’m sorry, I know I said that I would do this yesterday and I totally planned on it, but I forgot my laptop at home. 

Anyway, I tag: @boymeetsweevil, @jeonalis, @94hixtape, @sugasweetsubs, @denouemin, @hobijoon, @lilyjhs, @minmelly