#Coral: The Sea in the Palm of Her Hand
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Coral: The Sea in the Palm of Her Hand | Coral: Tenohira no Umi - Chapter 14
#Coral: The Sea in the Palm of Her Hand#Coral: Tenohira no Umi#TONO#coraledit#josei#joseiedit#mermaid#manga#mymanga#vixmanga#manga cap#mangaedit#itsmangacap#anisource#animanga#monochrome#black and white#B&W
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The Hurt
Thanks to @idontknowreallywhy for reading through ::hugs::
Dumps and runs.
-o-o-o-
He’d left his dirty uniform on a bench in the locker room.
The random thought surfaced amongst a sea of emotion he couldn’t afford right now.
He was clean at least, hair still wet from the shower, and standing at the edge of the caldera. His feet were half covered in warm sand slowly losing the heat of the day.
The water lapped rhythmically against the shore and his heartbeat attempted to meet it, slowing, only to be caught up in the emotion again.
It thudded in his chest.
Slow.
Rhythmic.
He closed his eyes and focussed on what he could hear.
Again, the water, gentle, repetitive, forever.
The wind. Rustling trees. The red blossoming pōhutukawa behind him, its sound more the roar of a distant crowd than the yapping of the palm leaves high above.
Birds.
He counted three…no, four different kinds at least. The ever-present petrels and squabbling tui, silver gulls and a distant sea eagle.
Water seeping into the sand.
The sudden consumption of them all as Thunderbird One swooped in above the Island and righted herself in a roar of engines as she disappeared into her hangar, the pool swallowing her and her soundscape in one.
A moment of silence…
Before the Island came alive again. The petrels protesting, the tui defending their trees…
The wind cooling a tear on his face.
Virgil scrubbed his cheek, wiping it away and stabilising himself.
He started the ritual again.
The sand between his toes, the water lapping…
He let his shoulders settle and his eyes close.
Focus.
On the music.
Just another day. Just another shitty day. He did everything he could. He saved lives. It was done.
Images flashed, and he gasped his eyes open again.
Water rippling across the caldera greeted him.
He followed the waves, tracking them, predicting interference and pattern only to have wind wipe it all away.
It was just another day.
He had done everything he could.
That was the sense of the matter, the logic and reality.
But it hadn’t been enough and it hurt regardless.
He let himself fold down onto the sand, his butt hitting the soft mix of pulverised rock and coral, his elbows landing on his knees and his head in his hands.
It really wasn’t worth getting upset about. It wasn’t the first time, wouldn’t be the last and he should be stronger than this.
Stronger.
All the excuses, the psychological training, the reasoning behind his reaction…it was all there.
Yet, still it hurt.
He scrubbed away another tear.
Goddamnit.
A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped.
“Hey.”
Scott.
Concerned blue eyes stared at him a moment before his brother sat down on the sand next to him.
There was only the noise of the Island for a long moment.
“Do you think there are more nests this year?”
Virgil blinked. Looking up he found Scott staring across the caldera at Mateo and the petrel colony there.
Virgil stared himself for a bit. “Maybe?” A frown. “I haven’t done the count this month yet.”
He battled to remember the date. Was it today, yesterday or tomorrow?
He had no idea.
He should probably fix that.
“I found Dad out here once.”
Virgil’s eyes darted back to his brother. “What?”
“Early on. You weren’t here at the time. You and Gordy were on the mainland for one of his swim meets, I think.” Scott looked down and dragged a finger through the loose grains of sand between his knees. “It was one of our earliest rescues gone bad, and I have to say, that I swear he was speaking to Mom.”
“What?”
Scott arched an eyebrow. “He did that sometimes. When things were really bad.” His brother looked away. “And that was definitely a bad one.”
Virgil opened his mouth, but Scott held up a hand.
“Don’t start cranking up your medical expertise, Virg, he was fine. It was just a coping mechanism. We got it checked out. Dad was fine.”
Virgil pressed his lips together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His big brother shrugged. “Nothing to tell. Rarely happened. Maybe twice the whole time he was here.”
The ‘was’ hurt.
But then that was a simple hurt of existence.
“Why are you telling me now?”
Scott sighed and wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “You’ve had a bad one. It’s okay to be upset.”
Virgil looked away and didn’t answer.
“There is no shame in caring.”
And there it was, the knife that cut through all the reasoning his brain could throw at him.
His throat tightened. “I shouldn’t care so much.”
“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be my brother. You wouldn’t be you.”
Another tear crept out the corner of his eye and he rubbed at it.
The arm around his shoulder tightened and Scott curled his hand into Virgil’s hair, guiding his head to his shoulder. “It’s okay, little brother, it’s okay.”
Of course, that was enough to break all the control he could manage and before he knew it, he was sobbing on his big brother’s shoulder. Scott had his arms around him and everything was messy and embarrassing and god, it all hurt.
Reassuring words and a hand rubbing his back. Somehow he was now five and being hugged by his big brother because he’d fallen over and scuffed his knee.
And all those people had died.
All those children.
Emotion swamped everything.
-o-o-o-
Eventually the wind returned, the water lapped at the shore and the tui started another argument in the pōhutukawa tree at the head of the beach.
Scott was stroking his hair.
Virgil swallowed and pushed himself upright.
His big brother did not let go, his hand still on Virgil’s shoulder.
Virgil scrubbed his face. “Shit, sorry.”
Scott’s voice was painfully soft. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
There was something in his brother’s timbre and Virgil looked up at him.
Scott was intent on Virgil, but there was pain in those eyes and the evening light was highlighting the greys in his auburn hair.
Virgil grabbed his brother and hugged him ever so tight.
“Virg?” It was half strangled.
Virgil didn’t answer.
He just returned the love.
-o-o-o-
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#virgil tracy#scott tracy#earth and sky#nuttyfic#nutty has a stressful day so Virg gets it#sorry Virg#thunderangst#hugs#lots of hugs#angst#poor virg
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Worship Like a Dog | Love and Deepspace - Rafayel/MC
Burnt umber.
Sienna.
Auburn.
Coral.
Saffron.
Give him all the time in the world and it still would not be enough to discover every wonderful color he felt and saw when she was near. A work of art, not crafted by his own talented hands, but just as treasured.
She was his soul, the embodiment of everything he held dear. She’d slipped from his grasp once, but he would make sure she wouldn’t do so again.
Rafael couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d been so desperate for another’s gaze. For their touch and their attention. For the privilege of existing in their presence.
It made his face burn to think about, so he covered such embarrassing thoughts with orders and complaints that made her roll her eyes and sigh with annoyance when he spoke.
He would take it.
Cerulean.
Sapphire.
Robin’s egg.
Olive.
Sage.
He didn’t think she would give in to his demands to go on a stroll. By the seaside of course. He told her it was to find inspiration. She nodded in resigned understanding as she walked alongside him and held the bags containing his newly purchased supplies.
But while her eyes were locked on the crashing waves and bursts of foam, his eyes were locked on her. What would you call the color of the shine in her hair? What shade is the corner of her eye? What color would she turn if he held her hand?
“You must really love this view if it’s able to inspire so many of your paintings…” She commented, absentmindedly.
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t waste my time on something that wasn’t worth every second of it.”
He wasn’t talking about the view.
Byzantium.
Vermillion.
Amber.
Ivory.
Ebony.
What a wonderful thing it was, to have the privilege to feel such a love. A love that far surpassed adoration and felt more akin to utter devotion.
Indeed if she had an altar, he would kneel before it until his legs ached and his back grew stiff. Hands clasped and eyes fixed on her divine idol.
He would bring gifts of anything and everything precious. Left in the offering bowl; a glittering scale, pints of his own blood, the ocean, the moon, the sound of the sea.
And it would be bliss.
Fulvous.
Lilac.
Chartreuse.
Orchid.
Amaranth.
He’d never felt desperation, the way he did when she re-entered his life.
He didn’t care how low it made him seem when he demanded she never make him wait again. Phrased as a demand, he wondered if she noticed that it’s true nature, was a desperate plea.
What he meant was, “Don’t leave me.”
He’d never forgive her if she passed from this life and slipped from his grasp. But his devastation and fury would not stop him from seeking her out in the next life. Traveling to the ends of the earth, to meet her again.
Perhaps he’d reincarnate as one of her beloved cats. He would never admit the way it would suit him, lounging around in her lap for hours, demanding her attention and following her around, drifting through her legs as she sighed with fond annoyance.
He would do whatever it took.
Scarlet.
Juniper.
Tuscan sun.
Slate.
Jade.
Each stroke of his brush was a confession. Each sigh from his lips was a declaration of love. Each brush of his hands against his own lips was a kiss against her fingertips. Each thread of his fingers through his hair was a stroke against her cheek.
Even a single touch, would be enough to set his body alight, a thrill unlike any other.
When he was gifted with her touch, when she placed his palm over his racing heart, he wondered if she could hear what it said.
I love you, don’t leave.
I love you, never stray from my side.
I love you, I can make you happy.
I love you, please look my way.
Words he couldn’t say aloud. He didn’t know if he wanted her to hear it or not.
Green.
Blue.
Pink.
Brown.
Yellow.
After every second of pining and want, he knew it was possible she would never return what he felt.
He only hoped that if such a thing happened, she would be merciful enough to let him continue to remain at her side.
But he also dared.
Dared to hope she would look at him with love.
Dared to want the feeling of her kiss on his skin.
Dared to wish she would promise to never leave.
Dared to desire her to mean every word.
For now, he would be content, demanding her time and basking in her glare. He would complain about her gentle punches, and savor them like hugs. He would look into her eyes and let words fall from his lips that hinted at what he felt, hidden in metaphors and stories, much like the canvases he displayed in galleries.
For now he would simply dream.
And that would be plenty.
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Snippet - Deep End - Mal de Mer
On mind-tricks and mothers.
Mal de Mer on AO3
Snippet:
"You're shaking," Silco says. His left palm lifts to curve itself over her bare shoulder. The thumb strokes a soft circle into the skin. "Let's get you inside."
"Inside?"
"The villa's only a short distance from the pier. There are guards stationed to escort us."
Mel nods. She absorbs little—but the warmth of his hand, she understands. The guests, in her peripheral vision, have begun to stir to their senses. She can sense the confusion that permeates the airwaves. The same emotions that cling to her, miasmic.
None of them, she thinks, were ready. Now, they've crossed the threshold to No Return.
"Are you able to stand?" Silco asks.
Mel nods again.
"Take my arm."
"I—I can walk on my own."
"Take it."
His tone brooks no argument. In a strange way, it's reassuring. The Crossing has altered everything. But not Silco. Wherever he goes, he remains the same.
The tide: immutable.
Taking a steadying breath, Mel straightens. The night wind whips at her hair, her dress. Her limbs seem to be made of gelatin; her mind a slurry of conflicting impulses.
But, also: exhilarated.
A strange subspecies of joy is spreading through her. Not the kind she experiences when her schemes are playing out to fine-tuned perfection. Something brighter, purer, undiluted.
A sense of homecoming.
As if reading her thoughts, Silco says, "A mild euphoria can follow the first Crossing. It will fade soon. Until then, I'd advise against letting the eyes wander."
"Why?"
"Hallucinations." He takes her elbow. "Best not to tempt fate."
"I—I see."
Mel wills the world back into focus. The guests, herded by the crew, have been ushered to the pier's end. Mel makes out the shape of a long rowboat, bobbing gently on the white-capped waves. The guests are being bundled into it. Blankets are distributed; thermoses of hot tea passed out.
Silco, his hand a loose latch on Mel's arm, leads her forward.
"Stay close," he cautions, "the boards are slippery."
Carefully, Mel wends her way along the pier. The path before her has a rippling quality: her balance is off. She focuses on mimicking Silco's sure-footed tread. Glimpsed from behind, she is struck by the slenderness of his silhouette. The spare cut of his torso; the tidy nip of his waist; the lithe swimmer's legs.
He's not a large man. And because he's not, he's always had to assert himself. To stay braced, every moment, against a world that will never be forgiving to those with less.
For the first time, Mel is hit by the full force of his fragility. How little of it he lets her see. How much of it she still doesn't know.
And how much, if she's honest, she longs to find out.
Then it happens.
A cry, loud and shrill, splits the night. Mel falters mid-step. In the frothing darkness of the waves, she catches a flash of dark flesh: a hand, clawing wildly up the pier's planks. Then a figure surges out in slithering increments. The moonlight, ghostly, traps itself in the bronzed contours of her musculature. Her eyes, a fiery gold, are locked on Mel. Her teeth, bared, are the color of old ivory.
Ambessa.
Her uniform is studded with pale encrustations of barnacles. The armor drips, water pattering across the floorboards. The wild gray corona of her hair is plastered to her skull. The rest of her: waterlogged as a sunken ship.
It's as if she's been dragged across the seven seas.
As if she's a revenant, risen from the dead.
At her throat, a necklace—the one belonging to the Ionian chieftain's daughter—jangles like a garland of bones. The dark glisten of blood limns the coral ornaments. Her features are streaked with it. Her expression: a naked rictus of bloodlust.
Half kraken, half killer.
"You," she spits.
Then she's lunging for Silco.
Mel acts on reflex. Her body shoves his aside. Cursing, Silco staggers off-kilter. His hand drops from Mel's arm. The moment it does, the planks skid from under her boots. Her thighs collide with the railing. Then she is toppling backward.
For a moment, she is weightless. Her body caught in zero gravity. Her mind, a free-floating mote.
Mel registers the details in a series of suspended snapshots: the moon, a hypnagogic smile, pinwheeling above; the stars, a thousand eyes, blinking in and out; Ambessa, a raging Fury, bearing down. Then gravity pulls. Mel's stomach plunges into her heels. Her arms fly outward. Her fingers claw empty air.
There is nothing to hold on to.
Only the Void's hungry inverse.
The Deep End.
Then, with a giddy quiver of gelatinous peristalsis, the moment erupts.
Mel, a shriek ripped from her lungs, drops.
The plunge is an instant; an eternity. The waves are a frenzied churn. The chill radiates, shockingly cold, and seizes her breath.
Mel has one final cogent thought: Silco.
Then, the water rises up, and swallows her whole.
#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane silco#silco#forward but never forget/xoxo#forward (never forget)/xoxo#arcane mel#mel medarda#ambessa medarda#arcane ambessa#melco#silco x mel#mal de mer#snippet
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For the holiday prompts, could I please request 🌄Sirion and "still hope may seem bright"? Thank you! <3
still hope may seem bright
Idril stands at the edge of a rocky outcropping whose body has half-sunken into the water and stares into the Great Sea. She can feel the coolness of heavy water droplets against her bare ankles as the waves crash against the rock, again and again, in a steady rhythm that is most welcome for her unruly thoughts.
The water here at the feet of Sirion’s bluffs deepens quickly, only a few steps of shallow sands, and then a sudden abyss opens, housing the massive coral reef that gives life to the Bay of Balar. Idril pierces the depths with her gaze, letting herself be enthralled by the sea forest beneath the surface.
Flung about by the waves, pulled by the currents, tossed this way and that by the entire power of the sea, the seagrasses sway in the tide. Fish, big and small, and critters and crawlers of all sorts wade between their tall green bodies, feeding on them, hiding between them, using them for survival. Flung, and pulled, and tossed, the grasses choose not where they go, the most vulnerable beings in the sea though all life starts with them.
Idril sees something of herself in these simple plants of the sea for she also has been tossed around from one land to the next, pulled by currents much larger than herself, uprooted time and again from each place she has called home. Here she stands at the edges of Beleriand, by the sea after so long, yet not of her own making. How Idril had longed for the sea during her first years in Gondolin, for there is something of that scent when the algae bloom, of the ways salt crystals form along the skin, that never truly leaves someone who has known them.
Now that she is returned to the gentle embrace of the coast, Idril has little strength left to rejoice. Questions weigh heavily upon her, of the hurts her people still carry, of the favors she must ask and has nothing to offer in return, of dark winter nights that are soon to find them, of kingships and crowns. She still owes an answer to Ereinion on that last matter and has promised to deliver it before nightfall.
The sea breeze picks up to snatch at Idril’s tresses, tossing them around playfully and bringing with it the lilt of cheerful laughter. It is a most familiar sound, most beloved, yet one she has not heard in close to a year. A very long year.
Idril’s heart chases this sound desperately and her eyes follow down the beach to where Eärendil runs to Tuor, hands overflowing with shells and pebbles. The treasures fall out of his small palms and he must pause to retrieve them from the sand before sprinting, the merriment spilling from his lips again. Tuor laughs too, though quietly, its resonance lost between the coming and going of the water. Their bright heads shine brilliantly in the afternoon light and when they are joined, Eärendil’s gold next to Tuor’s early silvering, it is as if the Sun has met the low Moon.
The sight is so beautiful and soothing, almost a dream, as something Idril’s mind must be conjuring to find a temporary refuge from the questions that give it no peace. A vision or no, Idril dares not interrupt and remains watching how Eärendil offers the gifts to his father with a beaming smile, how Tuor falls on his knees to receive the offerings, how they both touch and turn each shell as if examining a most remarkable jewel. Tuor explains something with utmost care and puts a big round shell next to their son’s ear. Eärendil listens, and then his eyes open wide and he shrieks with delight.
The laughter reaches Idril’s ears again, clearer and brighter this time, and it is as tangible as the cold water beneath her own feet. This is not a dream. Her boy laughs again, for the first time since Gondolin.
The tears that come then are not the familiar murky streams of grief but of a heart opening itself to hope again. Idril lets the water flow out of her, fall down her body, and mingle with the spray of waves until she is one with the Sea. Still hope may seem bright, Idril believes, if Eärendil keeps laughing like this, if Ulmo’s waters keep their steady rhythm.
A decision settles in Idril's heart. She will not rule, her head will bear the weight of no crown in Beleriand. She will be like the seagrasses. Stand tall for her people against whatever comes, be the home they have lost, guard them, and nurture them, and then, when the time is right, let the currents take her where they will.
Idril gives thanks to Sea and turns away to deliver her answer to the one who shall now be a High King to their people.
For ghosti.
If you enjoyed this story, feel free to drop me a note/kudo on AO3. It makes my day!
#sirion#idril#tuor#earendil#ereinion gil galad#prompt fills#ficlets#Holiday Silm Prompt Fest#my writing#silmarillion#tolkien
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11 for emberfrost? :D
emberfrost? uhm. m8 i think some wires got crossed. I will assume you meant emberfish tho. so. here you are!
11. Hiding from pursuers
Tango shoved himself deeper into the crevasse, even though the rough rock bit into his fins. He had one hand pressed against his mouth, sipping at the water to make as little noise as possible.
Just like his mother had taught him.
Right, like that'd helped her in the end.
Tango just hoped that whatever it was he'd gotten a glimpse of wasn't smart enough to look where he was hidden. It was too quiet. And his pouches were digging into his skin where they were pressed against his body-- Hopefully they wouldn't rip this time, Tango had just finished repairing them.
Still too quiet. The water was too still. Tango knew better than to poke his head out. Surely the heartbeat pulsing in his ears would be loud enough for the monsters to hear.
Then, disaster struck.
As Tango shifted, his hand slipped on a jagged bit of coral. The slice burned it's way across his palm, leaking blood into the water. No--
Even the most stupid sea monster would be able to follow the blood right to him.
Tango curled his hand into a fist to minimize the leakage and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Hello?"
"Bdubs, wait--"
Tango felt something brush against one of his ear fins. He didn't even think, twisting about to snap at the offending-- whatever it was.
It didn't go well.
He smacked his head against the rock, completely missing the thing that'd touched him. Oh, and to make matters worse, he'd definitely snapped the ties on his pouches again.
"Woah-- Hey! That's not any way to greet someone!"
Tango blinked, shaking his head to try and dispel his disorientation. Everything still seemed to be spinning a bit, but-- the monster had to be gone, right? Why else would there be other mer out and about?
Because there were two mer outside his hole, different than any other mer he'd seen before. One was all stripey, with spines and white hair and weird markings on the lower half of his face. The other looked like he was-- covered in algae? The expression on his face was offended, one hand holding onto his other wrist.
The striped one blew out a mouthful of bubbles, and offered his own hand out, though he didn't get quite so close to Tango's face, "Sorry about him. Bdubs isn't quite pod-trained yet. Do you want to come out of there? We can help you get patched up."
"HEY--!" The algae covered mer, Bdubs, spun on his companion, "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"
Tango hesitated. They were being so loud, surely there wasn't a monster. He took the offered hand with his uninjured one, and let himself be slowly pulled out of the rock.
He couldn't help but dart his eyes around. Surely the monster would come back.
"It looks like your gear got pretty damaged," The striped mer pulled Tango closer, carefully starting to unwind the tangled and ruined ropes, "Do you want help fixing it?"
"You can come back to our outcrop and rest for a while. We've got extra food, too." Bdubs nodded, drawing closer, "Right Etho?"
Tango hugged himself, not wanting to let go of his pouches. He shook his head. They were probably going to just rob him blind and leave him for the monster. Tango wasn't THAT dumb.
But he was still shaking like a leaf, and more eyes to keep watch meant that maybe he could get an hour or two of sleep.
So he let himself be tugged along by the mer.
Turns out, he'd gotten more scrapes than just the one on his hand.
Etho and Bdubs had brought him to an outcrop nearby, out of the currents. It was a proper little camp, unlike the ones Tango tried to scrape together. Had he crossed into their territory? Surely they wouldn't like that.
"Hey, are you listening?" Bdubs poked Tango in the side, below his gills.
Tango flinched away, pulling his fins close. He just sort of, looked at Bdubs. He'd been asked something, right?
"I asked if your pod was nearby." Bdubs repeated himself.
Tango opened his mouth to answer, choked on his first attempt to talk, and had to clear his throat to try again, "I don't-- I'm alone."
Etho and Bdubs shared a glance, then as one looked back at Tango.
The silence was making Tango twitchy, and he was about ready to dart off-- gear fixed or not-- before one of them broke the silence.
It was Etho who spoke, his spines carefully laid flat against his body as he drifted closer, "Not anymore. You can join our pod. What's your name?"
"Tango."
#vivianswers#automaticnerdbread#viviwrites#emberfish au#ask game#mermaid au#hermitfic#tangotek#ethoslab#bdubbleo100#I could have also taken this one with emberfish!Etho's backstory#but#here we are.#Tango is probably like. 15 here#Young enough to be out of his family pod#but not near old enough to be out on his own like he is#Bdubs is likely about 18-19 and Etho is somewhere in his early 20s#they took one look at smol underfed Tango and went 'ours now'
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Next summer ⍣ ೋ
Art by: しまも🍖 (@kshima_mo369) on Twitter
Pairing: Bachira Meguru x Mermaid! reader
Summary: A story where Bachira helps a mermaid in problems and they grow attached to each other because of their curious personalities.
"Haha! We got one!"
Two men near a little bay secluded from the quiet coast.
"Look at her scales! So shiny!"
Deep waters full of vibrant corals, home of many fish... and some mermaids.
A strong net imprisoned the mermaid, who fought against the force that was pulling her away from the sea. When a dirty hand went to grab her, she defended herself.
In this world, a mermaid's poison sold like gold, being the most powerful in the world. It was used for medicine and drugs, among others. It was very rare and very precious.
"Ah, careful! Did she stung you?" Panicked eyes stared at their companion.
However, as a mermaid, if your poison isn't deadly or lethal,
"Huh? What is this? It just felt like a little zap."
You weren't worth more than tuna.
"Really? We spent hours fishing for this?"
The mermaid still tried to resist against the tight ropes that held her hostage.
"I don't know man." The stung man ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe we can sell her scales or something."
"Forget it, the government is very attentive about anything that involves the mermaids' wellbeing."
"Let's just go home."
They both sighed and carelessly let go of the net, letting the mermaid fall unceremoniously on the sand. They didn't feel an ounce of respect for her as they left her under the burning sun to die. The mermaid didn't find any energy left to keep resisting and went limp.
Hell, she knew her poison was worthless. Even other mermaids made fun of her constantly, that's why she travels alone. But being treated like this by humans made what she had left of dignity to crumble.
Laughter and chatting echoed through the coast as a numerous group of friends arrived at the beach. They dispersed and played volleyball, swam a little, made sand castles... The usual activities in a summer vacation.
Then, a boy with yellow eyes wandered happily further from the group.
"Hey Bachira! Where are you going?"
"To explore!" He shouted back excitedly as he disappeared behind a bush. His friends decided to let the adventurous boy be, being aware of his curious and playful personality.
When he pushed away a big leaf from a palm tree, he was met with an incredible sight. A bay surrounded of vegetation was hiding there. The clear water clashed against the rocks, making a peaceful sound. Despite this, when his eyes drifted where the sand was more prominent, being in the shore, he spot a laying figure. He walked closer to it, examining her with an inquisitive gaze.
'A mermaid?!'
His eyes fixated on the way the sun reflected on her (f/c) scales and her fins laid like silk in the sand. She had pointy ears and sharp teeth were noticeable in her features.
"Pretty..."
However, his mesmerized trance switched to a worried frown as he didn't see any movement from her, the net trapping her body. Just who is so cruel to do this? He tried to pry off the net from her with no avail. The movements made the mermaid drowsily awake as she saw someone else with her. She followed her first instinct and stung him to try and scare him away. The boy jolted away and held his hand.
"Hey don't zap me! I'm trying to help you!"
Although, seeing as the ropes didn't budge, Bachira went off to find a tool that could help him. He found a branch that was spiky at the sides and thought that it should do. He came back and stuck his tongue out in concentration as he worked.
The mermaid's thoughts wandered wildly. What did this boy want with her? What would he do to her? The idea of him taking her poison by force crossed her mind, but after her earlier failed display of abilities, she doubted it. Maybe he really was helping her after all.
Albeit that hopeful thought, her panic didn't decrease. Her quick ragged huffs made her cough harshly. Her skin was dry and her lungs burned with each breath she took. Thankfully, Bachira got the memo rapidly.
"Ah right! Water!"
He looked back and stared at the fresh water from the ocean. Thoughts as grabbing a bucket or making a small river crossed his mind, but in the end he opted to carry her there. She felt strong arms lift and bring her to the shallow waters. The rope scratched her irritated skin and she winced in pain. Bachira apologized softly.
'At least is better than drying off in the sun.' She thought.
She sighed as her body hydrated again, some water being splashed by the boy to wet the parts that stayed over the water level. After he noticed she was feeling better, he continued his task on freeing her. When he managed to cut down some ropes over her torso, she aided him weakly as much as she could with her arms.
Minutes that felt like hours passed and the net was finally cut down to the point he could take it off her with his hands. The mermaid felt as good as ever, no longer being caged in tight cords. She crawled to deeper waters and stretched, going for a quick swim of freedom right after.
Bachira hoped onto a rock near her and watched as she swam skillfully through the water. His eyes lighted up and a wide smile creeped his way to his face. It was a very beautiful sight indeed. He saw her come closer and crouched down on the rock to be more at her eye level. She raised her webbed hand in order to tell him something, but he high-fived her instead.
"That was awesome! You swim really fast!"
She deadpanned at the excited boy. That was... not what she wanted to communicate. She was growing desperate after many attempts of communication were misunderstood by Bachira, who innocently tilted his head. He laughed as this seemed to be a funny guessing game to him. She face palmed and went for another tactic. She raised both of her hands in a motion.
"You want me to wait here?"
She nodded enthusiastically. She really should have learned to speak human language. Before Bachira could say anything else, she quickly disappeared under the water.
Some time passed and she found him still sitting on the rock, whistling a small tune. She approached him and he saw her from his peripheral vision.
"You're back!"
She smiled and stretched her arms towards him, a beautiful shell resting on her palms. He leaned closer to look at it as she had an eager expression on her face.
"Is this for me? As a thank you?"
She nodded again and pushed her hands closer to him. He raised his hand to take the shiny object from her, a childish smile on his lips.
"Thank you, I love it! It's so pretty!"
She only widened her smile in response. They 'chatted' a little more until Bachira pondered it was time to leave. He got up and trotted in direction of his friends before stopping in his tracks and turning around.
"Will you be here tomorrow?" He shouted.
She gave him a thumbs up in hopes he could see it from where he was standing. She figured he did as he slightly jumped and waved her goodbye, making her raise her hand too. She dived into the colorful reef and swam happily among the fish. Maybe some humans weren't that bad at the end.
Bachira was spotted by the group while he came back, skipping along the sand.
"Welcome back. Did you find anything?"
He hid the gifted shell in his swimming wear's pocket.
"Nope." He smiled.
The next morning, Bachira got ready at max speed so he had time to read a book about mermaids he saw in the shelf in Reo's beach house last night. He found it and quickly opened it, eyeing it's contents.
He passed over all the poison market thing, thinking it was not important. The only thing he wondered is that if that zap from yesterday was it. Having heard a thing or two about the topic, he remembered that a mermaid's poison can be lethal, but very useful.
'I guess her poison is not that strong. Well, lucky me. I could have died.' A drop of sweat ran down the side of his face as he smiled nervously, moving on to the next page.
'Ah, mermaids' behavior and language. This could be useful.'
He read about a lot of stuff regarding body language and signs that indicate emotions, trying to keep all the information in his brain, as hard as that is. Really, this must be the longest time he ever sat in front of a book.
- Shells can be gifted to other mermaids or creatures as a way to express gratitude and/or friendship. The shinier and smooth it is, the more sentimental value it holds.
His smile widened at that information.
'Haha! I knew it.'
He took out the shell and caressed it with his thumb. He did thought it was very nice and lovely. His gaze softened while he felt all giddy in the inside.
"Bachira we're ready! Come down!"
He quickly closed the book and rushed downstairs where all his friends were. He couldn't wait to arrive at the beach and see if you were there, as you said.
When they set up everything at the private beach, Bachira snook out discreetly and went over to the little bay. Sadly, he did not find the mermaid anywhere, even when he called for her. He didn't let disappoint get to him as he was sure you'll come later; so in the meantime, he went for a nice swim. The water there didn't crash as hard as it did in the shore. Instead, it felt more like a quiet lake, all just for him to relax as he floated.
Truth to be told, the mermaid was there. She nibbled on the remnants of what was a fish. She waited amusingly for the boy to get closer to the center of the bay, planning to surprise him.
Just as he was starting to get bored of doing nothing, he felt a shocking zap on his side. He instinctively turned to that side wide eyed, not missing the way something emerged from the water behind him and threw itself over him, making him momentarily sink.
When all movement ended, he threw his head back onto the surface only for his eyes to directly meet (e/c) ones, full of joy and playfulness. A smile also made its way to his face as he hugged her tightly.
"You came!"
They almost sink again from the action, making her laugh loudly.
'God her laugh is wonderful.'
He pulled back with a fake pout on his face, making puppy eyes at her.
"That was really mean though. I thought we were over all the zapping thing."
She maintained her smirk as she snorted and raised her eyebrows, as if saying: that didn't hurt and you know it. That made Bachira squeeze her cheeks as he laughed at her attempts to escape his grasp. This was not welcomed by her as she brought her fins closer to sting him yet again. Turns out that, much to his dismay, this would be a common thing between them.
"Hey!"
She quickly went underwater given the opportunity and flicked her tail strongly, making a considerable amount of water to splash at the boy's face. She peeked from the water and chuckled at Bachira's expression.
Their splashing game continued for long. She was obviously winning by far, but that didn't mean it was less fun. She swiftly made a quick turn and Bachira's eyes lighted up like a kid who got candy.
"Wow! Can you do any tricks?"
'Do I look like a scenario dolphin.' She wanted to retort.
Bachira saw right through her snarky gaze and sulked slightly. He was getting good in reading her thoughts thanks to the information on that book.
"Pretty please?" He asked behind clasped hands.
She glanced at his expectant eyes and gave in, taking a moment to think. He watched her dive into the water, but he wasn't prepared for what was about to come. The next thing he knew, her body was flying above his head, having elegantly jumped and her scales shining under the sun. Bachira was nothing but amazed as she came out of the water again, a sheepish smile on her lips.
"Wow... Wow! Do it again, do it again!"
They spent most of their time playing and having fun together without a care in the world. Eventually, their laughs died down and they grew tired. Well, more like she got tired; the boy still had plenty of energy left. Despite that, she finally convinced him to take a rest, swimming to shallow waters. When the water level was knee-high, they came to a stop and sat down. He dropped on his butt and she laid face down, them being in the perfect zone between land and water.
He looked at her as she enjoyed the way the soft waves brushed though her body, carrying cool waves with them. His eyes drifted downwards to her gleaming scales and he felt hypnotized by them. His attention was also caught by the way her fins flowed with the water's movement. But, could you blame him? He's never seen a mermaid this close, let alone befriend one.
"Can I touch your tail?" He smiled.
Her head turned in his direction and the question pondered in her head. Even when it registered in her brain, it still felt strange for her, as no one has ever asked that. Nonetheless, she still complied because she trusted him. Her tail was draped along his lap, startling the boy at first before he drew his hand near in a testing motion and caressed her tail gently. When he got no reaction from it, he continued doing so. Her scales were soft and slippery and her fins felt like nice fabric under his fingers.
A shudder ran down her spine at the nice feeling, legging her muscles relax. No one has ever been this affectionate to her, so this was new. Having nothing to do, she moved around and went to feel his legs as well. After all, she's never touched human legs before either.
When both of their curiosities met at the same time, they found themselves in a rare but nice quiet moment, just enjoying each other's company.
Like that, they spent the morning and soon the clock ticked until noon. Somewhere in between, they went to where you could barely touch the ground with your feet and got to know the other about various things. However, they were interrupted by a distant voice.
"Bachira, we're going to eat! Where are you?"
"Coming!"
He turned around but didn't find the mermaid by his side. Instead, he felt her fins glide through his legs in a way of saying goodbye as she took her leave. Bachira noticed something being placed in his hand and brought it up to inspect it. It was another shell.
Happiness and excitement flowed through his veins as he got further away from the bay, fastening his step to meet with his group. Boy, he was loving this summer vacation.
Like that, they spent most of the summer time. Between laughs, zaps, and splashes; a month passed and they grew impossibly close. In Bachira's bag stood proudly a pile of shiny shells of all colors and shapes, having kept every single one of them. Sometimes, the boy got her one too just to see the wide smile that would appear on her face. Sneaking out and maneuvering through dense vegetation to meet her became a routine for him, surprisingly not getting caught. The same could be said for her, as she swam through the reef everyday in hopes to see him.
One day, they were playing tag. Bachira cheated from time to time and ran to the dry sand, not wanting to always have it because of her always catching him instantly. Nonetheless, he would eventually come back when she begged for him to do so, promising she would go easy this time. That was a devious lie that he always fell for in one way or another as she jumped on him to tag him the moment he stepped on the water.
One of these times, Bachira deflated and sat on the famous rock in thought, feet still soaking in the bay. The mermaid felt slightly bad as she swam closer, thinking it was because of the game. Despite that, she still wore a victorious smirk that said it all.
'Tired of losing yet?'
"Don't get too full of yourself."
She wanted to laugh but couldn't get herself to do so when she heard the uncharacteristic weak chuckle that left his lips. She looked at him and saw his thoughtful expression, eyes barely duller that usual as they hid a foreign emotion behind them. She started to become worried and crossed her arms above his thighs, resting her head on top to look at him. Bachira snapped out of his trance and started at her. After a few seconds, he squeezed her cheeks with a small smile.
"What's with the long face?"
She was unbothered and reached her index finger to boop his nose.
'You.'
She smiled at the way his eyes crossed to look at her finger then at her, rosy pink covering his cheeks. He let her face go and faked a small smile.
"It's nothing really. Just thinking."
She raised her eyebrows, clearly showing that she didn't buy it. However, he didn't let her insist more as he changed the topic.
"I just noticed I haven't asked you your name!"
Her eyes slightly widened in surprise and she retracted her finger. Well, at least that was something she could say. Bachira heard her literally bubbly voice for the first time as she told him her name.
"(y/n)"
"(n/n)? That's a cute name! I'm Bachira, but you heard it before."
She deadpanned as he didn't understand half of it and said it wrong, but she didn't have the heart correct him seeing the now true, happy smile he wore. It was contagious. She chuckled along him and, when the laughter died down, they were left in complete silence. Bachira fiddled with her hair before parting his lips.
"I have to go back home soon."
So that's what it was. She looked up at him from his lap with an unreadable expression. Moments passed and, when Bachira started to grow anxious, she propped herself up in her arms before giving him a hug. He quickly reciprocated it, hugging her waist close and pulling her out of the water fully to let her sit in a more comfortable position in his lap. Without a word, their embrace tightened. This hug wasn't playful nor lively like the other ones, but it was still as welcoming as ever.
"I'll miss you." He whispered into her wet collarbone as he pressed his head there, which she responded by nuzzling her face on his shoulder.
They sat on the rock enjoying each other's warmth not wanting to separate. Her nose scrunched up when stray hairs tickled her face as they pressed their cheeks together, courtesy of Bachira. Their hearts beat in unison under the blazing sun.
She eventually pulled back after some restriction because of his strong hold. She signaled him to wait with her hands as she dived into the water, disappearing in sight. He began whistling waited for her on the rock, his gaze softening as this moment felt similar to their first interaction ever.
She came back clutching something in her hand, which she placed on his hand that pushed against his chest, the tips of her ears red. He tilted his head and watched her amusedly, but in a blink, she wasn't there anymore. He panicked as he didn't get the chance to say goodbye.
However, that thought was quickly dismissed as he felt something zapping his ankle, making him stand up by reflex. He saw her emerging from the water at the distance before his smile enlarged.
"Will you be here next summer?" He shouted.
She gave him a thumbs up and he responded with a little happy jump. He waved her goodbye, making her raise her hand too. She dived into the colorful reef and swam happily among the fish.
Bachira turned around and trotted in the sand and trough the vegetation. He opened his palm and his face went red, his heart skipping a beat. There sat a beautiful coral of reddish tones. His eyes, wide in realization, squinted closed as he widely smiled. He traveled back home with a happy mind.
'Until next summer, (n/n).'
- Mermaids can also gift a coral, this meaning love and affection. The redder the coral, the more sentimental value it holds.
I have nothing to say except this was very sweet to write.
I had much more scenarios with a mermaid reader but decided to shorten it for it not to be too long.
I tried 3rd person pov here and I'm having a love-hate relationship with it.
Listen to music often, Lethby ༊*·˚
#bachira x reader#bachira x y/n#bachira meguru x reader#bachira x reader fluff#bachira x you#bllk bachira#mermaid au#im running out of ideas
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oceans & engines
{ Miya Atsumu x fem!reader }
wc : 1.9k+ (warning: angst)
Written for my bby's collab @satisfactooru "the mixtape collab". This fic is inspired by oceans & engines - NIKI pls check out her new album❤️
Miya Atsumu is your long-lost lover; your puppy love; your biggest heartbreak since high school. But never did you think once that you will reunite on the beach during the summer.
You’re on your summer break, asking your group of high school friends and proposing an idea that it will be nice to have a small reunion. At first, everyone agreed, including Kita, Suna, Tsumu, and Samu. But the group of five was slowly reduced to 3 and then 2 when the decided date drew near.
Kita said he will be busy because the sunflower harvest time is coming. Samu can’t come because he has an important client and the weekend is the busiest day of his business. Suna, you don’t have any idea what he really does but he argues that he has a short-term class during the summer break —though you knew he usually doesn’t take studies seriously.
Here you are, trapped with your past love on the coastline of Hyogo, with the sound of the waves crashing against the coral reefs.
"All done!" Atsumu smiled proudly at the small tent he built. Your belongings already sat down prettily under the shade.
"Will ya start to change or we won't go to the sea until tomorrow?" He shifts his gaze to you who stands silently next to him. You already changed your clothes 15 minutes ago in the nearest changeroom.
You shake your head, nervously starting to unbutton the white oversized shirt outer, gradually revealing your bikini in black color. You were self-conscious, especially when his gaze is too oblivious following the way your hand unbutton one by one and discharging the pristine cloth.
Atsumu left gasping, he's trying his best to avoid his gaze being disrespectful at the sight. His palm groggily covers his mouth with the other hand supporting his elbow as if he's thinking of something (he's trying so hard to think about 'something else' actually) and if you noticed his ears reddened not from the sunburn.
You innocently batted your eyelashes, cautiously asking, "How is it?"
"It looks good on you!" he sends you a reassuring grin.
"Damn so hot" he needs to suppress his squeak, not to make things awkward. He already knows you're hot and the fact won't change.
"Let's go!"
He takes your hand and pulls you to the shore. His face lit up with glee, like a little boy who hasn’t seen the sea for years —that might be true considering how busy he was as a star athlete.
You notice how Atsumu changed physically. His hair is now styled with a decent amount of gel. His muscles are well trained from the training regime of an athlete, showing off his hard work. You feel proud as a friend, you didn’t let go of him for nothing.
Atsumu himself looks marvelous. Maroon shorts hanging on his waist, with a toned bare chest. He catches attention, some probably noticed that he’s a professional athlete. The way he gloriously drinks a bottle of water like the tastiest water he ever had, it almost looks like a popular commercial with the drips flowing over his chin and chest deliciously (you believe the sales of the product will skyrocket on how everyone’s watching at the free advertisement).
Some are busy admiring him from afar, not daring to approach because he has you by his side. For this very day, to have you and the beautiful view of the sea, Atsumu feels he's at the peak of life.
However, the way he laughs is still the same. The way he grins ear to ear whenever he sees you, and how the corner of his eyes crinkle and his irises gleam at your sight. Even his jokes and humor taste remains. Bringing you back to the time when you were hanging out in the corner of the classroom, surrounded by your group of friends to laugh over his antics. The mix of student chatters echoed in the room and the footsteps of people in the corridor plays in your head, it was the moment when you were waiting for the next class to start.
His gaze was more innocent back then. It was a swift glance during the class, one desk away from you. When you caught him, he pretended to think about the lecture, which wasn’t the case. Sometimes he passed you a message through Suna, made you giggle over his silly scribbles on a torn notebook paper. He was your company during the class.
Do you remember the night of the Halloween party? With artificial fox ears on his head, he almost messed up all of Samu’s hard work. He clumsily stumbled on the food corner when he told you that you were the most beautiful devil he’s ever seen. Then he must be out of his mind when he sneaked to kiss you in front of your front door (luckily your parents didn’t see, or else a pair of shoes would land on his pretty face).
You bet Miya Atsumu and you were really good at pretending (especially as you were the president of the theater club). You are pretending there’s no such kind of history when your fingers intertwined five years ago or when you spent the night in his bunk bed while Samu was away. But it’s faltering when he remembered your favorite drink, the one he bought from the nearby vending machine. Or the way his eyes linger longer on your figure, exceeding the pause between the ocean waves.
It’s etched at the tip of his throat. He misses your laughter over the splashing salt water. Your protest when he missed controlling his strength while playing with the inflatable ball sounds like your nagging when he used to push himself too hard. He picks you up to throw you away into the fresh seawater, probably it was too close to his heartbeat, he misses having you in his embrace.
After hours of playing in the water body, you dry up and follow his way to the tent. When both of you decided to take a rest in the tent, you realized it was too small to fit in. Lying down, only his torso gets covered by the shade and if someone looks from the outside it looks comical, like a tent with 2 pairs of legs. You were fighting for a place at first and ended up with Atsumu circling his arm under your head.
"Just go to sleep if you feel tired," he soothed. You choose to make yourself comfortable, gradually lulled by his breath and heartbeat.
Boisterous ocean waves break the sound in his head. He was lost in nostalgia feeling when he used to tail you everywhere. You let him play with your hair, engulfing the soft scent.
"You changed your shampoo," he speaks as he stroke your head. It was an old hobby of him, remembering every product you used. The scent of your body lotion and shampoo, your favorite snack and beverage.
"Of course, Tsumu. Time passed," you murmur half-asleep. It was not just yesterday, not even one week or two weeks. It's been 5 years since you walk on a different path.
You woke up first, to find him an inch away from your face. In the proximity, you can take a better look at his worth-swooning face, the tip of his nose, his philtrum down to the curve of his cupid’s bow, and his soft lips. Does it still feel the same? You must be out of your mind to think about it.
You get up to sit down and stretch your body, checking your phone if there’s any important message, but it seems not.
"You’re awake?"
Atsumu rubs away the lingering sleepiness in the corner of his eyes. You chuckle, describing how he sleeps like a dead log. He whines at your remark.
He mimics you, getting up and sitting down to face you. You realize you shared such a small space, and again you feel de javu. It’s too suffocating the way he watches you with the same adoring eyes. You turned around and were about to reach the zipper of the tent before his hand stops your wrist.
“Don’t go—”
You laugh half-heartily, “I’ll come back, just wanted to buy drinks for us.”
He doesn’t loosen his grip. You can feel his hand shivering lightly, did he have a bad dream?
“Don’t ever leave me again,” the words sting.
You grimace, looking at the pair of his eyes. “You were the one who choose to leave,” your voice croaked.
Now he hates himself. He didn’t mean to hurt you twice.
“Sorry I—”
“I was the wrong one.”
You shake your head. You didn’t mean to make him guilty of the past event, although it was partly true. He was the one who chose to abandon your relationship when you wanted to give it a try. He was scared, he chickened out so easily at the thought of restraining your future (his future). But later he founds you on social media, smiling brightly as ever. Checking on how well you maintain your relationship with your high school mates, he deplores over the cut ties.
“I was—"
"I was young and dumb,” he corrects.
“That’s enough,” you whispered, low but firm.
Suna and Samu would probably agree. Because when you went to Suna’s house for a good cry, he cursed several times about how dumb his setter was, giving solace to your broken heart.
His touch behind the closed space is alluring. His calloused thumb caresses your cheek, cupping it in the hope your tears won’t brim at the clear memory of how your heart drops at every calling of the breaking up. He wanted to offer you consolation. But how can he? When he was the one who broke things up.
His hold is always cautious when it comes to you. The way he puts his hand on your waist is support for you not to break apart. His head nestled on the crook of your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, mumbling “‘m sorry”.
Your hand automatically reached for his locks, stroking them and reassuring him that was okay. Years have passed and you eventually recovered. Your other hand soothes his arms to his back, drawing the imaginary circle, hovering over the familiar skin which used to hold you. But for him, it was not. The thought of you in others’ embrace has always taunted him.
You closed your eyes as his face becomes closer. And you feel the taste of his lips on yours. It’s velvety and light. The same conversant feeling, answering your previous curiosity. He holds the back of your head to deepen the kiss and your hand tugged his blonde hair, grazing his undercut. He purrs under your touch.
The temperature is rising although the sun is setting. The touch of his fingertips is full of longing as if he didn’t want to part except for you to catch some oxygen.
“Come back to me, won’t ya?” he breathed, pleading.
He pulls you in for the last kiss. It tastes like deep seawater, leaving a bitter-sweet feeling.
Your heart swayed, but your mind didn’t. You closed your eyes tightly before looking at those honey eyes again. A pair of eyes that you used to miss, the glints that you used to love.
“I won’t, Miya."
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#hq imagines#hq drabbles#hq x reader#hq x y/n#hq x self insert#miya atsumu#miya x reader#atsumu scenarios#hq atsumu#atsumu fic#atsumu x you#atsumu x female reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu x y/n#haikyuu angst
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Coral: The Sea in the Palm of Her Hand | Coral: Tenohira no Umi - Chapter 5
#Coral: The Sea in the Palm of Her Hand#Coral: Tenohira no Umi#TONO#coraledit#josei#joseiedit#mermaid#manga#mymanga#vixmanga#manga cap#mangaedit#itsmangacap#anisource#animanga#monochrome#black and white#B&W
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crimson coral cookie smut hcs ; 18+
requested by ; 🍾 anon (12/08/23)
fandom(s) ; cookie run
fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific
character(s) ; crimson coral cookie
outline ; “crimson coral cookie relationship and smut hcs ~ 🍾”
warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, dominant leaning!crimson coral cookie, pet name kink (specifically mentioning ‘mummy/mommy’), impact play, hand jobs (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving)
minors and ageless blogs will be blocked
crimson coral cookie is someone who spends all of her time working to protect and care for those she cares for — be that her civilians, her sisters, the sea creatures, or you as her partner — which lends itself to her being more on the dominant side in the bedroom (she’s not strictly against taking a more submissive role, but dominance comes more comfortably, and naturally, to her and it tends to be her default whenever you’re intimate unless you take the time to make her comfortable and help her settle into a more submissive, but not completely submissive, role)
the specific type of dominance she tends to use is best described as ‘firm but fair’ or ‘tough love’ — like she first and foremost prioritises your comfort and well-being (both mental and physical) with in depth discussions about boundaries, implementations of safe words/actions, thorough aftercare, and plenty of rewards for good behaviour, as well as a system of warnings, scolding and punishments whenever you break one of her agreed upon rules, act like a brat, or really start to try her patience
she’s neutral to most pet names you might use and will generally adapt to them if they’re something that you enjoy, but ‘mummy/mommy’ is probably the one most accurate to your dynamic (in that she takes good care of you but she isn’t above punishing you if pushed past her limits)
in terms of punishments she will generally adapt to your boundaries, but she will default to using impact play alongside some very slight humiliation — i.e. bending you over her tail, spanking you with a swatch or paddle (never with her bare hands), telling you what you’ve done wrong, asking if you understand and having you reiterate your wrongdoing to her (and promise to not repeat that behaviour), before finally letting up and praising you for taking your punishment well whilst soothing the injured area — unless you explicitly state you’re uncomfortable with that
given that she is a mermaid normal penetrative sex isn’t really possible with her, so she tends to rely on other parts of herself to pleasure you instead — and, thankfully, she can practically work miracles with her hands so you don’t find yourself minding the difference much (the combination of her slender, lightly calloused fingers and soft palms feels like heaven, honestly, and with how well she knows your body you don’t have the time to consider what you may be ‘missing’ before you’re pushed over the edge of climax once again)
when it comes to giving oral she’s a bit timid and tends to look to you for guidance, peeking up from between your thighs with her cheeks tinged a darker red than the rest of her face, watching your reactions intently as she tests out different movements — [amab] humming/moaning, hollowing her cheeks, testing how deep she can take you in her throat before a gag reflex kicks in, [afab] alternating between kitten licks and flicking at her clit with the tip of her tongue and licking flat stripes along your slit, experimenting with the use of her hands to finger you as she goes down on you, figuring out when to plunge her tongue into her hole and when to suck on your clit, etc. — she wants to please you but oral sex is just new on her and so it’s a lot of trial and error for a while (but eventually she settles on something slow but rough, holding you in place with those strong hands whilst she lays between your legs and licks/sucks you to climax, occasionally pulling away to praise you, reassure you, or scold you depending on your behaviour)
she is endlessly thorough when it comes to aftercare for you — massaging away your aches and pains, looking you over for any injuries for her to tend to, having one of her servants bring you something sweet to eat, washing you, and praising you for doing so well during your play session whilst also reaffirming boundaries and limits — but she also appreciates receiving some good aftercare after a session with you, especially if it involves: a massage to deal with the knots in her shoulders and tail, lots of kisses, her favourite food, and a shared bathing session followed by the two of you cuddling in bed until she falls asleep (ready to wake up early the next day as she always does)
#sleepingdeath#🍾 anon#minors dni#minors will be blocked#ageless blogs dni#ageless blogs will be blocked#smut#smut hcs#crk smut#cookie run smut#crimson coral cookie smut#gender neutral reader#crimson coral cookie x reader#cookie run x reader#crk x reader
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List of all SDV and SDV:E (Stardew Valley: Expanded) Giftable Items
Horseradish
Daffodil
Leek
Dandelion
Parsnip
Cave Carrot
Coconut
Cactus
Banana
Sap
Large Egg
Egg
Milk
Large Milk
Green Bean
Cauliflower
Potato
Garlic
Kale
Rhubarb
Melon
Tomato
Morsel
Blueberry
Fiddlehead Fern
Hot Pepper
Wheat
Radish
Red Cabbage
Starfruit
Corn
Rice
Eggplant
Artichoke
Pumpkin
Bokchoy
Yam
Chanterelle
Cranberry
Holly
Beets
Ostrich Egg
Salmonberry
Amouranth
Pale Ale
Hops
Void Egg
Mayonnaise
Duck Mayonnaise
Void Mayonnaise
Clay
Copper Bar
Silver Bar
Gold Bar
Iridium Bar
Refined Quartz
Honey
Pickles
Jam
Beer
Wine
Juice
Clam
Poppy
Copper Ore
Silver Ore
Coal
Gold Ore
Iridium Ore
Wood
Stone
Nautilus Shell
Coral
Summer Shell
Spice Berry
Sea Urchin
Grape
Spring Onion
Strawberry
Sweet Pea
Common Mushroom
Wild Plum
Hazelnut
Blackberry
Winter Root
Crystal Fruit
Snow Yam
Sweet Gem Berry
Crocus
Red Mushroom
Sunflower
Purple Mushroom
Cheese
Goat Cheese
Cloth
Truffle
Truffle Oil
Coffee Bean
Goat Milk
Large Goat Milk
Wool
Duck Egg
Duck Feather
Caviar
Lucky Rabbit’s Foot
Aged Roe
Ancient Fruit
Mead
Tulip
Summer Spangle
Fairy Rose
Blue Jazz
Apple
Green Tea
Apricot
Orange
Peach
Pomegranate
Cherry
Bug Meat
Hardwood
Maple Syrup
Oak Resin
Pine Tar
Slime
Bat Wing
Rusty Blade
Swirl Stone
Solar Essence
Void Essence
Void Pebble
Void Shard
Void Soul
Fiber
Battery
Dinosaur Mayonnaise
Roe
Squid Ink
Tea Leaves
Ginger
Taro Root
Pineapple
Mango
Cinder Shard
Magma Cap
Bone Fragment
Radioactive Ore
Radioactive Bar
Ancient Fiber
Bearberry
Conch
Dried Sand Dollar
Ferngill Primrose
Golden Ocean Flower
Goldenrod
Green Mushroom
Four-Leaf Clover
Monster Fruit
Monster Mushroom
Mushroom Colony
Poison Mushroom
Red Baneberry
Salal Berry
Slime Berry
Rafflesia
Sports Drink
Stamina Capsule
Thistle
Void Root
Winter Star Ross
Dewdrop Berry
Aged Blue Moon Wine
Blue Moon Wine
Aegis Elixir
Armor Elixir
Barbarian Elixir
Gravity Elixir
Haste Exilir
Hero Elixir
Lightning Elixir
Pufferfish
Anchovy
Tuna
Sardine
Bream
Largemouth Bass
Smallmouth Bass
Rainbow Trout
Salmon
Walleye
Perch
Carp
Catfish
Pike
Sunfish
Red Snapper
Herring
Eel
Octopus
Red Mullet
Squid
Seaweed
Green Algae
Seacucumber
Super Seacucumber
Ghost Carp
White Algae
Stone Fish
Crimsonfish
Angler
Icepip
Lava Eel
Legend
Sandfish
Scorpion Carp
Flounder
Midnight Carp
Mutant Carp
Sturgeon
Tiger Trout
Bullhead
Tilapia
Chub
Dorado
Albacore
Shad
Lingcod
Halibut
Lobster
Crayfish
Crab
Cockle
Mussel
Shrimp
Snail
Periwinkle
Oyster
Woodskip
Glacierfish
Void Salmon
Slimejack
Midnight Squid
Spookfish
Blobfish
Stingray
Lionfish
Blue Discus
Baby Lunaloo
Bonefish
Bull Trout
Butterfish
Clownfish
Daggerfish
Dulse Seaweed
Frog
Gemfish
Goldenfish
Grass Carp
King Salmon
Kittyfish
Lunaloo
Meteor Carp
Minnow
Puppyfish
Radioactive Bass
Razor Trout
Seahorse
Sea Sponge
Shiny Lunaloo
Snatcher Worm
Starfish
Torpedo Trout
Undeadfish
Void Eel
Water Grub
Dwarf Scroll 1
Dwarf Scroll 2
Dwarf Scroll 3
Dwarf Scroll 4
Chipped Amphora
Arrowhead
Ancient Doll
Elvish Jewelry
Chewing Stick
Ornamental Fan
Dinosaur Egg
Rare Disc
Ancient Sword
Rusty Spoon
Rusty Spur
Rusty Cog
Chicken Statue
Ancient Seed
Prehistoric Tool
Dried Starfish
Anchor
Glass Shards
Bone Flute
Prehistoric Handaxe
Dwarvish Helm
Dwarf Gadget
Ancient Drum
Golden Mask
Golden Relic
Strange Doll
Strange Doll
Prehistoric Scapula
Prehistoric Tibia
Prehistoric Skull
Skeletal Hand
Prehistoric Rib
Prehistoric Vertebrae
Skeletal Tail
Nautilus Shell
Amphibian Fossil
Palm Fossil
Trilobite
Emerald
Aquamarine
Ruby
Amethyst
Topaz
Jade
Diamond
Prismatic Shard
Quartz
Fire Quartz
Frozen Tear
Earth Crystal
Alamite
Bixite
Baryite
Aerinite
Calcite
Dolomite
Esperite
Fluorapatite
Geminite
Helvite
Jamborite
Jagoite
Kyanite
Lunarite
Malachite
Nepunite
Lemon Stone
Nekoite
Orpiment
Petrified Slime
Thunder Egg
Pyrite
Ocean Stone
Ghost Crystal
Tiger’s Eye
Jasper
Opal
Fire Opal
Celestine
Marble
Sandstone
Granite
Basalt
Limestone
Soapstone
Hematite
Mudstone
Obsidian
Slate
Fairy Stone
Star Shards
Fried Egg
Omelet
Salad
Cheese Cauliflower
Baked Fish
Parsnip Soup
Vegetable Medley
Complete Breakfast
Fried Calimari
Strange Bun
Lucky Lunch
Fried Mushrooms
Pizza
Bean Hotpot
Glazed Yams
Carp Surprise
Hashbrowns
Pancakes
Salmon Dinner
Fish Taco
Crispy Bass
Pepper Poppers
Bread
Tom Kha Soup
Trout Soup
Chocolate Cake
Pink Cake
Rhubarb Pie
Cookies
Spaghetti
Spicy Eel
Sashimi
Maki Roll
Tortilla
Red Plate
Eggplant Parmesan
Rice Pudding
Ice Cream
Bluberry Tart
Autumn’s Bounty
Pumpkin Soup
Super Meal
Cranberry Sauce
Stuffing
Farmer’s Lunch
Survival Burger
Dish’O’The Sea
Miner’s Treat
Roots Platter
Triple Shot Espresso
Seafoam Pudding
Algae Soup
Pale Broth
Plum Pudding
Artichoke Dip
Stir Fry
Roasted Hazelnuts
Pumpkin Pie
Radish Salad
Fruit Salad
Blackberry Cobbler
Cranberry Candy
Bruschetta
Coleslaw
Fiddlehead Risotto
Poppyseed Muffin
Chowder
Fish Stew
Escargot
Lobster Bisque
Maple Bar
Crab Cakes
Shrimp Cocktail
Ginger Ale
Banana Pudding
Mango Sticky Rice
Poi
Tropical Curry
Squid Ink Ravioli
Mushroom Berry Rice
Big Bark Burger
Flower Cookie
Frog Legs
Glazed Butterfish
Grampleton Orange Chicken
Mixed Berry Pie
Baked Berry Oatmeal
Void Delight
Void Salmon Sushi
#Mistakes have likely been made and I will not be fixing them so just reply to the post with any corrections#sdv#stardew#stardew valley#sdv:e#sdve#stardew expanded#stardew valley expanded#giftable items#sdv items#sdv gifts#sdv gifting#long post
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Heaptober Day 15: Soulmates
7 connected drabbles about Soulmarks, + a list of headcanons.
1.
Silas Heap had always been the kind to leave his mark wherever he went. His hands looked like a painter’s hands, covered in splatters of the brightest colours until there was barely a spot of skin left.
When Silas found himself staring into a pair of solemn purple eyes, he reached out without thought to brush the snowflakes from her lashes.
He wasn’t surprised, really, when he left behind a smear of bright grass green. He chuckled at the sight of the wine-red she’d given him in return.
Well.
He’d already known that he was going to take her home.
2.
--
Sarah Heap had given birth to seven sons.
She’d marked each of them in gentle turquoise the first time they were placed into her arms, and they’d left their marks in return. She could count out her sons in the splotches on her left hand: Simon’s dark green. Sam’s muted teal. Erik’s sould was golden yellow where Edd was dusted rose. Jojo was orange, impossibly bright; Nicko the blue of a storybook sea.
And of course there was the green mark on the back of her hand. It had never faded, even years after she’d brushed it against Septimus’ jaw.
3.
--
Every one of her boys Sarah marked the very first time she held them.
Not Jenna, though.
For months, Sarah would trace the rich blue handprint on Jenna’s shoulder; the purple mark at the back of her neck. “Someone misses you,” she’d whisper, and still there was no trace of turquoise.
After Sally left, Sarah couldn’t let go of Jenna. They won’t get you, she thought fiercely.
A tiny fist closed around her finger. Purple eyes looked up at her. I know, those eyes seemed to say.
When her daughter let go, she left five perfect rings of red behind.
4.
--
Jenna had grown up knowing she was loved. It was written in her skin: green and turquoise and orange and blue. Tiny handprints on her back from when Nicko and Jo-jo had reached for her as a baby. The teasing brush of Simon’s finger like whiskers on her cheek. Bo’s lemon yellow ringed around her wrist.
The pale purple on her neck, and the blue on her shoulder.
Sometimes, Jenna would look at the stars and think: Someone with a soul like the night sky had loved her once.
And if they’d loved her so brightly - where were they now?
5.
--
Boy 412 was not supposed to have soulmarks.
“A soldier doesn’t have attachments!,” Catchpole would roar at them whenever one of the boys had failed to cover up their colours.
So 412 wore sleeves over the green and sticky paste on the turquoise, and dutifully did not wonder who had touched him fondly, once.
After his capture, 412 did not take his scarf off for months. Not even once his fingertips were stained purple and his palm a deep red.
It was Sarah who finally untied it. When she touched the turquoise mark on his jaw, her hand fit perfectly.
6.
When the Dragon Boat opened her eyes for the first time in ten long years, there was red on her neck and green on her tiller, and she was free.
Jenna stared breathlessly at the enormous boat before them. “Look. They painted soulmarks on her.”
There were handprints all over the carved dragon body. Coral and burgundy, scarlet and win, with only few other colours dotted between.
Yet far away from the rest of the prints, Boy 412 had seen a solitary spot of purple. It was so… so vivid.
Jenna reached for the hull. 412 reached for the tiller.
--
7.
Septimus Heap had never had soulmarks.
He didn’t need any. Soulmarks made you weak: DomDaniel certainly didn’t have any.
So maybe he didn’t have the turquoise or the green that the Queenling and that Heap boy insisted he’d have. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need their soulmarks, or DomDaniel’s, or Zelda’s, or Simon’s. He could make it on his own. He would.
--
Three years into living as Merrin, his hand brushed his mother’s as they made dinner.
Nursie smiled so brightly at the pale, washed-out vermillion he left behind that he couldn’t help but feel happy about her greys, too.
+1:
Septimus does have a mark from Marwick, too. I just didn't have the space to fit in there; plus while 409 has to wear gloves to cover the green, 412 can just hold on to his pike, or pretend his hand got dirty. They got those marks when 412 pulled 409 out of a Wolverine's way as kids.
Dragons can get soulmarks! It's like the Imprinting. It's not quite the same thing as with humans; for example, they don't stain the humans back, but either way, the Dragon Boat and Spit Fyre both end up with Jenna and Sep's colours.
Rats also get soulmarks, but only from each other, and they're not as colorful and visible, so most people don't know about that. These days, Dawnie's mark has almost faded completely from Stanley's fur.
I just feel like Silas would, you know? He shakes a stranger's hand and comes back stained, laughs, and they're friends now. Which yes, means he absolutely has Marcia's purple somewhere.
Speaking of: The purple mark on Jenna is from when Marcia caught her during the attempt. The blue is her mother's, and OH RIGHT i meant to write a drabble about Milo getting his. Oh well.
I think it's important that some people have different colors than you might expect. Wotcher, Merrin.
This soulmate concept was shamelessly stolen from Coloring Inside the Lines; an absolutely and heartbreakingly fantastic Breath of the Wild fic. Can only recommend.
#septimus heap#heaptober 2023#heaptober#this will also end up on my ao3 eventually but I don't make decisions like that while tired#also. I think 7+1 should be a thing in our fandom#chaos writes
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Snippet - Drifting - Mal de Mer
Early morning delights...
Mal de Mer on AO3
NSFW
Snippet:
This morning, though, his focus is purely on her.
Through the windowslats, bars of butterscotch sunlight pour. The ceiling fan cuts slowly through the humid air, redolent of seasalt and their bodies. Behind the carefully-cracked window, Mel can hear the trill of birdsong, and the rustle of palm fronds, and the gentle wash of the waves upon the shore.
Pink is the conch shell sitting on the endtable, a gift from Silco's deep dives. Mauve is the bedspread spilling lazily to the carpet, a soft puddle at the foot of the mattress. Blue is the hue of Silco's good eye, heavy-lidded with the residue of sleep, and a hungry lassitude as he rolls Mel onto her back.
Gold is the paint streaking the canvas on the easel behind him: a portrait awaiting her finishing touches before she has it packed for transit. Gold, like the frame she'll choose in Piltover: matching her wedding band, and attesting to the same. Gold, like the fractaling streak that ignites behind her eyelids, as Silco fans her thighs open to fit himself between them: the fullness of him dipping into her, teasing in and out, then sinking home.
Crying out, Mel thinks: This is how it ends.
In the days afterward, she won't remember her stay at the villa except as a flurry of sketches: the sea, the skies, the sands. And, most of all, the spiky loose-limbed silhouettes, all of which have resolved into a full-color nude on the canvas.
His torso, framed by the parabola of sunset, holds a deep-sea elegance. The lithe contours are etched by the eerie palette of fading twilight. Teals, and indigos, and amethysts: each color evoked by the subtle interplay of water and shadow. His bare shoulders, caught against the coronal threads of sunlight, like sharp juts of coral. The torso, with its cobra's hood of sinew, tapering into a narrow waist. The hard cut of hipbones, showing the navel and the hair below it, then disappearing into the distorting medium of the sea.
His head is half-turned, the features indistinct: just a hint of aquiline nose, the cutting edge of jaw, and lips parted to bare a glint of teeth.
Greeting, or threat.
The eyes are what complete the piece.
They've been rendered in exacting detail. The right eye, she's captured in all its softness: the blue so vivid, it's like a drop of the ocean. A vibrant green rings the iris, and a band of gray limns the pupil. Sea and storm: fused. The left eye is a bottomless void: the sclera inked black. In the iris: a starburst of blood vessels, red lines spiderwebbing from the center, with an inlay of gold to mimic volcanic flare.
His scars, too, have been rendered patiently. The shadowy left side of his face is a latticework of crisscrossing gouges. In some spots, like the rippled sands on the shore. In others, the cragged rocks of the reef. Each contour is traced out with the precision of a goldbeater's needle. She's overlayed the scars in an impasto of cadmium red and jet black: a tapestry of violence, with a touch of decay.
In sum, it's a creature of myth. Half-submerged, and on the cusp of a choice:
Ascent, or descent.
In her ear, Silco whispers, "Where've you drifted off to?"
Mel's lashes flutter. His body, striped in gold, is a languid arch over hers. One hand, callused, cups her breast. The other, scarred, clasps her wrist loosely between the fingers, trapping it against the sheets. His body flows skin to skin with hers—achingly slow.
Mel, nuzzling underneath his jowl, breathes, "Nowhere."
"Nowhere, hm?"
His tongue whorls in the hollow behind her ear. She shivers, arching beneath him. The tip of afternoon, she thinks, is when he's at his best: the ferocity of the night's hunger faded, the frenzy of late evening's appetite yet to come.
The heat, still banked, becomes a thing to be savored.
"I was thinking," she whispers.
"About what?"
His palm, cradling her breast, traps the nipple between forefinger and thumb. He rolls it round and round. Mel's breath catches; she bites her lip.
"About—about you," she manages.
"I should hope so."
"The painting. It needs, mmmh, something."
"Something?"
"To complete it."
He gives her nipple a playful tweak, and she whimpers. His dark chuckle rumbles through her. "A title, perhaps?"
#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane silco#silco#forward but never forget/xoxo#forward (never forget)/xoxo#mal de mer#arcane mel#mel medarda#melco#silco x mel
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I Bet On Losing Dogs
->Cw: body horror mention,hurt/confort,gif contains Fire,spoilers for TMA from episodes 77-83.
Summary: after events of Not Sasha and the death of the mysterious book keeper, Jon finds himself adrift with nothing to his name, falling back on the one person that he can,his eldritch being of a girlfriend,jerico.
->Only mutuals/Friends allowed to reblog.
Jonathan looked at the small room Jerico had carved out for him. This house,Like many things hes seen, bends to the Will of things beyond his comprehension.
Despite everything that had happened,losing his home and practically the entirety of his things, he still had found a place to stay,of course its the only person who understands what happened.
--Are you okay-- ah,there she is, jerico stands there at the entrance of his room. She looks concerned and her arms are folded over her chest like they usually are.
--Im...alright-- he lied, unconvincingly so.
--The hell ya are--She answered,stepping into the room, the safeguards she had put into place wobbling the mirage of her human form as the endless tumoltuos sea she had for skin breaks into foamy dark waves.
--Jerico ive burndened you enough by making you set up a place for me here
She rolled her eyes as she usually does whenever he says nonsense-- Youre no burden and you didnt make me do anything--Her arms wrap around his neck in a hug,he sighs and reluctantly hugs her, feeling shy and out of place. --You have a home here
Jonathan remains silent,face Burning with shame, his arms squeeze her and in no time hes burying his head on her chest,holding Back tears.
--You always have a place to stay here,this is your home too--She muttered, rocking Him side to side--cry if you need to
And her heart shatters like brittle coral as tears stains her shirt and sobbig falls past the lips of her beloved archivist. The Eye had gotten away with so much,she never particularly liked that entity even before Jon came into the picture.
He can feel her blood boiling,though hes not sure if he can sense her ire or he can feel her blood bubbling and pressing against her skin.
Tears fall past his cheeks like waterfalls, and she guides him to his bed to hold him better. She hates seeing him upset,stressed, she knows this is the peak of Many,many years of stress and dealings with the supernatural.
--We'll figure it out--She promised, voice soft and gentle, cooing like the softest Rumble of the Ocean-- first you rest,then you concentrate on gathering your strength, then we can see what we can do
--Youre always too Kind to me-- He whispered,voice Weak and broken-- I have no right in disturbing this peaceful life you made for yourself
--Shut the fuck up,Jon--jerico stated,voice firm and yet always loving-- Youre my boyfriend and this is not your fault--She promised pulling away a little to wipe off his tears. But the liquid falls down her thumb to her palm, they pool like water dripping from a stalactite.
He sees her hold his tears in her hands, he soon stops crying as Curiosity takes over.
The water moves on her right palm, pulling and stretching as it struggles to acquire a form. First, Its a cat, that licks its paw and then does a little dainty walk to her pointer finger, then it becomes liquid again as it slides to her left palm,where it becomes a small octopus that waves at him.
--What...are you doing?--He asked.
--Distracting you,is it working?-- she asked with a knowing grin.
He lets out an annoyed,flustered groan-- oh my god
--Yes,dear?--She asked and he glared at her. The octopus waves at him one final time before It dissolves into steam.
Jeri giggled with joy and gave him one final big hug,he hugs back and sinks into his embrace. She pets and plays with his hair,humming softly to calm him down.
--My baby, my baby
You're my baby, say it to me
Baby, my baby
Tell your baby that I'm your baby-- she sings softly, he sighs under his breath and begrudgingly scoots to sit on her lap.
Jon rests his head on her shoulder,hearing her sing-- I bet on losing dogs
I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place
By the ring
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down
I'll be there on their side
I'm losing by their side
--if youre telling me youre always by my side, you made it explicitly clear-- he announced,not loud enough to disturb her singing. He wanted to Keep listening,but he was going to be a hardass about it.
--Will you let me, baby, lose
On losing dogs
I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place
By the ring
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down-- she keeps singing,ignoring her boyfriends brisk attemtps at playing tough guy.
She humms the rest of it, and slowly he falls asleep,emotionally and physically tired. When he goes limp in her arms, she lays him down and kisses his forehead.
--sleep tight, love-- jerico muttered softly, love in her voice that is as soft as silk.
Then,she returns to the kitchen, where she makes a cup of tea for herself. Whilist thinking about everything that has happened, her ears catch the jingle of bells.
By instinct she looks at her side and finds a New door on her kitchen, she already knows who it is and she doesnt care for a visit from a fellow eldritch being.
Yet the knocking starts, soft and then loud,loud enough that it might wake up Jon. This is what makes her Open it, "Michael" as he went by these days, couldnt enter her home (see: her realm) without her permission,hence why she opens the door instead of him.
Michael can only stand at the entrance, leaning on the door frame with his tall,too long of a body. His long hands and fingers Stretch into an unconfortable length And his grin has too Many teeth.
--well,afternoon Antiquarian-- He said,voice playful and sing songy-- why the sour face?
--Your presence--She replied without much thought.
--Tsk Tsk-- Michael scolded-- that the way to receive a friend?
They were barely Friends,mind you,she liked his proclivity to mischief but drew the line at murder-- what do you want?
--Just to check up on you--He replied,sounding so sorry for his friend who gives him a cup of tea which he gladly takes-- after all,ive heard youve been dealing with some rather heavy things
She rolls her eyes and drinks from her own cup-- things yalls lil war has caused, mind you
--Ah well, side effects I suppose-- he backtracks as soon as she glared at him-- I mean,unfortunate of course
--Youre here to revel in my pain then ill kick your ass back to your ugly ass endless corridor-- she bit Back like a pirana, voice sharp like fangs and her growl echoing the breaking of stormy waves.
--Im only here to deliver advice,Entity to entity-- He stated-- Your love for the archivist makes you weak--
--Gee,thank you for the advice,leave-- She interrupted, going to the nearby kitchen aisle to fix up a few maganizes Back on the little spot she puts them at.-- and it doesnt,by the way
--Youre choosing a side-- he continued,a little annoyed-- Wether you like it or not,youre Siding with The Eye
--Tell the eye and The Spiral and The Web or how Many of you fuckers are there, that you can shove that war up your asses, I do not care for it-- she tries not to tip her hand but he already knows what shes trying to say.
Theres a brief, unconfortable silence, Michael hasnt moved an inch-- you really do love him,dont you?
She sighed--You already know the answer
--you know,Ive always admired that about you--She turns to him and raises a brow--I mean it! I really do! Youve always had more heart than any of us. Its impressive
He watches the corner of her lips twitch into a tiny,Tiny,smile. He chuckles and adds--Ah,theres that smile I like to see
--Im on jons side,get it through your thick spiraly head --Jerico stated, leaning on the kitchen aisle,arms folded-- ill stop this war,or if it happens, ill make sure you all dont damage this precious world
--Im sure you will--He finishes his drink and sets the empty cup on the entrance of the door-- thank you for this by the way,you always make the best tea
She finally cracked and chuckled a little-- okay leave,shoo begone
He nodds--Okay,okay im leaving. Good afternoon,antiquarian-- Michael said,walking into his endless corridor and closing the door.
--Goodbye,Michael
Jerico puts the two cups on the dishwasher and leaves to Open up the bookstore.
There was a war coming, but Jon wouldnt have to face it alone. She was there with him,even if he lost
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Here's the intro to Baru at Canaan because I don't feel like waiting till I have a proper first chapter to share it. I may scrap this and start in media res instead but I wanted to mirror Traitor's structure. The first three paragraphs are directly taken from the first chapter of Traitor and adapted as appropriate. So this is the story of Baru growing up on a lush and beautiful Taranoke that soon begins to die. No spoilers for Baru or the Locked Tomb.
Trade season came around again. Baru was still too young to smell the empire wind.
The Nine Houses sent their favorite soldiers to conquer Taranoke: tomes and roses, glittering silk and promises of protection. Little Baru, playing castles in the hot black sand, liked to watch their traders come in to harbor. She learned to count by tallying the ships and the skeletons decorating their exteriors.
Years later, Baru would recall the stark white of the bones, and her ignorance then about the human form. But at age six, the girl Baru Cormorant gave them no weight.
Taranoke was beautiful, then: Lush and vibrant, with animals of all sorts in the forest and the waters. Baru never saw more of her planet beyond her island corner, but to her the island alone was paradise.
Her mother Pinion and her fathers Salm and Solit taught her how to gather kelp to burn to ash to grind for glass. They taught her to read the stars, to remember where their ancestors had come from once long, long again. Most importantly, they taught her to remember who she was.
When Baru was seven years old, the fishing season was drier than ever before. Lying awake at night, Baru heard her fathers’ mutters.
“Pinion was right. These convoys are not to be trusted,” said Salm. Solit said nothing in response, but Baru heard the sound of him running his hands through his husband’s hair.
Baru didn’t know what a convoy was, and sought out her mother’s dictionary. She squinted in the dim light until she found: convoy—a caravan, or a group of ships, gathered for mutual protection, especially under the escort of a warship. A warship. Why would the silk and rose traders be bringing warships?
The pattern beginning with the fish continued that year. Half the flies that had tormented the marketplace seemed to have evaporated, and Baru didn’t see the harm but her parents seemed upset. Diving in the sea, Baru saw strange patches of white among the colorful coral reefs.
As winter approached – never too cold on Taranoke – the largest ship yet arrived. All of Baru’s village was called to the market to hear the representative speak. Within was a woman of hair the color of sand and skin lighter than the palms of Baru’s hands. “I come from the Third of the Nine Houses,” she announced, “and I have an unfortunate announcement to make.”
All around Baru people were muttering. She heard people whisper about “treaties” and “lies” and “death” and “doom.” The woman’s guards hushed the crowd, tapping their spears on the ground.
“Your planet is in the process of being flipped necromantically. This means soon it will no longer be fit for ordinary human life. Fortunately, we have already located a new planet for you to move to!”
At this, the crowd grew outraged. They loved Taranoke! Why would they leave it? The speaker simply raised her voice and carried on.
“We will be sending ships to help you relocate in three months time. On behalf of the Emperor, I hope that you all enjoy what Sousward B has to offer! Also, given how disruptive a move like this can be to a child’s education, we invite your youth to leave early and enter our special program designed to help acclimate new members of the Houses.”
Baru looked around at her neighbors, her family, her village, her island. She saw the grief in their eyes and the pain in their stances. By the time she’d returned home with her parents, she knew what she had to do.
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Peaceful days
The first light of the day fell through the tiny cracks in the wall and illuminated small specks of dust that were swirled into the air by the ocean's briese. In the broad hammock there laid a young boy. He was sleeping, even snoring lightly, but his rest was soon disturbed by his mother's voice calling him. He grumbled upon being woken but got up nonetheless. The boy dressed himself quickly in a light shirt and shorts and walked over the smooth stone floor towards the kitchen. He enjoyed the stones cold touch on his bare feet. It contrasted the humid morning heat quiet nicely.
Once he stepped foot into the kitchen his senses were filled by the heavenly smell of the breakfast and the fire's gentle warmth. His mother ordered him to set the table and get some more eggs from the hen house. So he placed ten plates on the table and hurried outside. The chicken were kept in a small wood house and the boy climbed inside. The hens started greeting him and he petted them in return before lifting a few and quickly stealing their eggs. One of the hens grabbed one of his brown locks that was flowing freely down to his shoulder. He needed a few extra minutes to free himself from the hen's grip and once he got out of the house his back ached with the effort of arching.
While cracking his spine he looked out over the ocean. This morning was an exceptionally beautiful one. The sun's orange rays touched the water surface and gave it a comfortable warmth, while a gentle briese cooled his skin. He stayed there under the palms for a few more minutes before returning inside. During his absence the rest of the family had assembled around the breakfast table and were already starting to plan the day's activities. His father and uncle were talking animatedly about different fishing techniques while his sister and mother stood by the fire and discussed the different methods of cooking an egg.
After placing the eggs in his mother's hands he himself took a seat at the table and basked in the mornings tranquility. Everyone enjoyed their breakfast and in the middle of eating the boy's father stood up and announced that today the whole family would be going fishing. Upon that statement the younger children broke out into laughter and the adults too smiled in obvious pleasure. Fishing days were everyone's favourite.
Around two hours later the family went to the boats. Everyone brought their own spear and net as well as a small bundle of food. This would be necessary because they wouldn't return to the house until the evening.
They climbed into the thin boats and left the coast behind. The water underneath them was crystal clear and had a turquoise hue. After about 40 minutes they arrived at their fishing spot and everyone stopped and looked to their grandmother. She would decide who was allowed to dive in first.
The grandmother looked into the assembled faces and took a steady breath. She focused in on the young boy smiled and tilted her head slowly to the side. That was the signal, so the boy stood up, grabbed his spear and dove into the water.
The cold water engulfed him and looking around himself the boy saw another world filled with colour and life. Hundreds of fish swam around him. Stretching out his hand he touched one of them and felt the smooth scales under his fingers.
He pushed himself through the water and flowed along the sandy ground. There he too found many animals. Krabs and others mingled there under the safe branches of the corals.
Above himself he saw the others entering the water and he remembered why he was here. So he gripped his spear a little harder and swam to his sister. They would hunt together, like always.
After a long day of fishing and enjoying the time spent together, they made their way back to the coast. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon, casting a gentle orange light all over the place. The sea seemed awfully beautiful.
Truly a fitting end to such a peaceful day.
Everyone was excited for dinner and a good night's rest, so they paddled a little faster and made a hurry for their house.
Maybe this would be one of many nice days to come or it would be last in a long time. One could never know and so the young boy enjoyed the memory of this beautiful day and went to bed with hope in his heart and a peaceful mind.
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