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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 4 months

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Hello! Could you please write full headcanons on the M6 getting home one day to find MC dead? They're not actually dead, their body is just vacant after a spell went horribly wrong, but M6 have no way of knowing that.

Thank you!

The Arcana HCs: When M6 think MC is dead

~ @arson-the-ace oh, this. this is going to hurt, isn't it. ~

CW for descriptions of panic attacks, bodies that seem dead, references to past trauma, and your beloved in lots of pain

-- to set the scene --

It was supposed to be an experiment, to see if it was possible to put your body in a preserved or frozen state when you left it behind to visit the magical realms. You did not expect the result to be your body looking and acting like a fresh corpse, or for the spell to have a three hour cooldown time before you could reinhabit it. Your incorporeal self sighs and sits next to your body, resigned to the boredom of waiting it out.

Until, minutes later, the door opens and your beloved walks in, and you have no way of telling them what happened.

Julian

Already fears the worst as soon as he sees you sprawled on the floor - his plague doctor experience with visiting the sick has his instincts fine-tuned for recognizing an unrecoverable patient

Trips over himself in his scramble to get to you and gets a nasty bump on his knee, but doesn't register a thing because he's finally reached for you and he's looking for a sign of life

A pulse. An exhale. The twitch of your eyes moving below your eyelids, anything, anything to tell him that you can be saved

He rolls you onto your back and tries to give you CPR, but he's breaking down too much already for any of it to be effective

Chest compressions turn into him ripping his gloves off, trying to find any of the warmth you've shared with him

Mouth-to-mouth turns into a choked sob against your cold cheek

He can't bring himself to keep going. Each failed attempt at reviving you gets his hopes up only to rip them to shreds again

He doesn't want to move forward. He doesn't want to go ahead with laying you to rest. He doesn't want to leave this drafty wooden floor, without a blanket or a pillow to keep you comfortable

And he can't stand up

He sits cross-legged on the floor, lifting your head onto his lap and laying his coat over you in lieu of a quilt

You watch him droop over your body, shivering in the drafty room without his layers, voice catching and breaking on quiet sobs as he sings you the lullaby his parents sang him before the shipwreck

By the time your eyes flutter open, his voice is gone

He's happy to see you - he's so, so happy to see you, but he keeps hovering over you like he never knows if you're about to collapse for good next time

If you love him, you'll wait a long, long time to do any more magic

Asra

They thought you were playing some kind of game, at first

He walked into the upstairs apartment to see you sprawled on the floor and teasingly called out your name, playfully asking what new mischief you were up to as he hung up his coat

And then you didn't answer them

As soon as he felt that old dread seize his stomach, he was hurrying across the room and asking you what was wrong

They can feel their own body growing cold as they touch your frozen one, pressing a trembling hand to your chest in search of the heartbeat they moved heaven and hell to give you

He's panicking, breaths coming quick and short. The motions of his arms trying to pull you closer to him are far too similar to his frantic digging in the ash filled sands of the Lazaret

They don't know what's worse - the images flashing across their eyes of your charred bone fragments splintering in their bleeding fingers, or your lifeless face lying heavy against their knees

His heart can't take it. The tears give way to an ongoing numb tremor. He places a preservation spell on your body as his last conscious thought before he lies down next to you on the floor

They put their arm under your limp neck and cuddle up to you like it's just another day's end, just another snuggle before sleep while they lay their head down on your icy, silent chest

You watch him hold your body in shock. He seems like he's caught between worlds, alternating between staring at your unmoving stomach while his shaky tears land and pool on your shirt

And reflexively whispering apologies as they mop up their tears with their sleeve, asking if they're squeezing you too tightly

He's quick to check your memories when you wake up, but no matter how healthy you are, he can't leave your side for a week

Nadia

Her intuition is telling her something is wrong as soon as she's approaching her chambers. Seeing you on the ground is her worst nightmare coming true

You're cold to the touch. You don't respond to her voice. You don't respond ... at all. She needs help, you need help, you need help now, she's going to get you everything you need, just hang on

She lifts you into her bed, and the chilly deadweight of your body is more than she can take. When she throws open the door and yells for a doctor, every servant in earshot hears her panicked sobs

She hasn't had a panic attack like this in years

Servants rush in and out in a blur, hurried murmurs and muffled exclamations fading into the background. She feels like she's been plunged underwater, unable to scream as her lungs fill with salt

She sits by your side with your hand in both of hers, clinging to the only part of you she's allowed to touch while the closest physician pokes and prods at your lifeless body. She can't see you anymore

And everyone else? They can't see their Countess at all

They see a broken-hearted woman holding steadfast to her lover's limp hand, breaths jagged and unpredictable as she wails through her teeth. Mercifully, her hair comes undone and hides her wrenched face and streaming tears behind a curtain of purple

You woke her, first from her dreams, then from her apathy, and finally from her loneliness. Watching you succumb to a sleep far stronger than the one that trapped her is wretched beyond words

When you finally stir awake, she refuses to leave your side as the doctors work to ensure that your vitals are stable and to try to figure out what happened and if there are any repercussions

She's glad you're back, but she can't stop herself from waking you in the middle of the night to make sure you're just sleeping

Muriel

He's already convinced of the worst before he can prove it

He knows what a body collapsed in sudden death looks like. He's seen them countless times on the sand of the Coliseum floor, slaughtered at his own shackled hands, but now it's you

Now it's the only person he trusted to never leave his side

He can't register Inanna beginning to whine and pace, he can't register the sounds of the forest outside, he can't register the fire slowly burning down and out in the back of the hut

A lifetime of trained alertness, muted, because his subconscious has decided it can't take paying attention to a world that doesn't have you in it any more

He's finally able to move again when he takes his first shuddering breath in minutes, and he begins to walk and reach towards you in the vague hope that all is not as it seems

But that's when some small, sick part of his brain starts up its tiny chant that he deserves this, that this is the effect of giving in to your misguided desire for his touch, that this is somehow his doing

But the larger part of him, the part of him that loves you and aches for you and is dedicated to you, leans past the furious pain and lifts your head and shoulders off of the floor, enough so he can lower his head and listen for a heartbeat, feel for breath on his cheek

And there isn't any. Your body is as still and lifeless as his hope for something better, and he can't breathe. He can't breathe, and he's curled up in a ball with you in his arms, and he can't breathe

It takes a few hours before he can master his thoughts enough to think. This has happened before, and it was possible for you to come back. Asra, he has to bring you to Asra, he'll give anything

You wake up as he's carrying you through the woods, and it's the first time you've seen his body go so completely weak with relief

Portia

At first, she thinks you're feeling a little silly and sleeping on the floor just to mess with Pepi. Though the way you're lying, you almost look like you've collapsed. That can't be comfortable

It's when she crouches down to wake you up that she can tell something's wrong. Your shoulder is cold - way too cold

She's already got tears running down her face, but never in her life has she let her sadness stop her from caring for those she loves. She shakes you, back and forth, calling your name over and over

At some point she realizes that it's too late, there's nothing she can do, and that's when she starts wracking her brain for someone who can do something. Anything. She's not giving up on you

She's small, but she's strong and she's in pain. She lifts your body and begins to stumble through the Palace garden with you. She leans into the volume of her wails, using them to call for help

First through the gardens, then through the Palace halls, unable to recognize the blurry faces through her tears, but determinedly blubbering out what's happened and how she needs help for you

When someone who might have been the Countess informs her that the physician is out, she walks out the front gates of the Palace. Her ears are deaf to the offer of a carriage into town

Vesuvia still remembers its plague. It has never before heard cries as anguished as the ones Portia sent echoing down the canals as she ran and stumbled with your body to Mazelinka's house

Mazlinka will be there. Ilya will be there. They both know plenty about medicine, they should be able to help, just hang on. Hang on, she tells your cold body, hang on for me

You stir awake just as she crosses the threshold into the basement dwelling, and the emotions she feels are so overwhelming that she almost punches you for scaring her. She can't stop crying

Lucio

When he walks into the room in the inn after his trip to the outhouse, he avoids the sinking feeling in his gut by telling himself you're just napping. On the floor. Without moving

And then he can't take the way his conscience is nagging at him, so he snaps and (not unkindly, but brashly) tells you to get up and get moving already, we're wasting daylight!

But you don't move. You don't give him a disapproving look. You don't grumble when he shakes your shoulder, or open your eyes when he pats your cheek, or smile when you hear your name

He doesn't understand. You're brave, you're strong, you're loving, you're good, you're full of goodness and you're better than anything he ever deserved after what you suffered because of him

Because of ... him

This must be his fault. This must be his actions catching up with him. This must be the fallout of all those rash deals, some forgotten deity must have run out of patience and come to collect

Of course this would happen. It would take a hundred lifetimes to sift through the pile of selfish bargains, of course he missed one, of course he failed to make up for his past deeds, of course ...

Of course an oversight like that would cost him you

But he's not going to let this go. You deserve better. He hauls you into his arms, ignoring the way he chokes at your dangling limbs, and rushes out of the inn and into the deep, deep woods beyond

He screams and cries and yells and threatens and pleads and begs until his voice falls silent and he can taste blood in his throat

He calls out to any angry being listening to tell him, tell him what this is in payment for, tell him what he can put on the bargaining table that would pay back the debt that demanded your soul

You wake up before he can do anything rash, but he squeezes you in his sleep now, as if to challenge any more soul thieves

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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imhenritz · 8 months

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Giving him the love he deserves (Sanji x Reader)

I have had this idea in my head for quite some time. I enjoyed writing it, but I don't know how to continue and if I would.

Reader is Mc or Main Character, but I made it sound like it's a name! I'm too lazy to think of a real name. Forgive me! Y/N didn't feel right somehow *sweats* Could this still be considered x reader? Oh god.

The prompt in my head goes like this: "The reader gets sucked into One Piece after wishing that someone would love Sanji like he is supposed to be loved, as nobody has given him a chance. She would love to give him that chance if only she could. One time, she was in her room, falling asleep while recording her voice for a cover request sent to her. When she woke up, she found herself in a boat floating, wearing pieces of jewelry fit for nobility. Her neck, ears, and bracelets were all glittering in the darkness." Story under the cut! Part 2 here!

She hated the dark. There were no lights to be seen, and her eyes adjusted to the darkness, recognizing she had been in a lifeboat. A medieval one; she knew this because of museums she had visited, always drawn to pirate ships, wondering how it would be then.

Everything was quiet, like she was completely alone and trapped. Shouting would be pointless at this point. Absent-mindedly, she started singing "Jolly Sailor Bold." It had been a few days; she was starving and weak. She caught herself and huffed, “If I die, I might as well go in style,” she continued.

She kept repeating it until she got tired and chose to lie down and look up at the stars. They were never this clear in her city.

When she woke up, it was with a man with a braided blonde mustache talking to a few more men. “Ah, the lass. Must be shipwrecked.”

“-Must be loaded…”

“Jewelries…”

She could barely catch their whispers. Groggy and weak, she looked up at the man. It must have been dawn. “Please help me.” Holding her throat, she felt the jewels that were like stones. “Take everything-” She wet her lips, trying to swallow the moisture in her mouth, which she didn’t think was there. “Jewel… Please.”

She lost the ability to talk but could feel a soft arm taking her in. The smell of aftershave and nicotine lulled her to sleep.

“I got you, Madame.”

She woke up to Sanji greeting her with food and saw her eat it without any grace, making him let out a chuckle, and she glared weakly, more embarrassed than mad. “I’m sorry; I lost count of how long I was in the sea.”

“Try 85 days.”

“What—85?” her eyes widened as he grinned. He gestured to the seat next to her bed, and she nodded. “I’m sorry. I think I was only there for a week—”

He shook his head. “It’s not about the days. It’s experiencing hunger. You gave up every bit of your jewelry, you know.”

She reached for her neck and huffed. “Those jewels meant nothing if you can’t eat or drink.”

“Damn right.”

Her eyes went to the door, where she recognized the man who saved her. She thought she was in a dream before, but it’s uncanny how both are real-life versions of Zeff, and now looking at the young blond man at her side—Sanji?

“You’re an aristocrat. I’m sure a few pieces won’t go missing,” the older man grumbled. He kicked the young blond’s head. “Give up the seat, little eggplant.”

Sanji lookalike grumbled but did mutter, “Old shit bag.”

She gasped, blinking, piecing things together. “Little eggplant…” she muttered in disbelief.

“I assure you it has nothing to do with—”

Zeff lookalike chuckled. “I assure you he is every single bit of a little eggplant,” he smirked and brushed his mustache down, making them bounce up, resisting the brush. “They call me Zeff. What’s your name, lass?”

“Mc, sir,” she bowed deeply. “I owe you my life, Sir Zeff. Please let me repay you somehow.”

“Another one on the bag,” he mumbled.

The blond man saw the chance and began, “My name is Sanji. You can call me whatever you—”

“—Your family must be looking for you. Where are you from?” Zeff watched as she gulped and looked away from him, mouth opening and closing with no words. “I can’t let you stay here and be seen as a kidnapper—”

“—Old man, what if she runs away? We have extra rooms—”

“No, no stuff on the boat. It’s shipwrecked. Can’t let the place close because of a stowaway—”

“NO!” she stopped him with a loud voice, causing both to stop. “I’m sorry. This might sound crazy, but I’m not from around here. I don’t think I am,” she gulped.

“Could you have amnesia?”

She sighed and shook her head. “Please don’t kill me, but I think I know who you are and where I am. Please let me finish.”

She gave them a recap of what she knew, and both men were quiet. She pulled on her IV, hissing at the pain. “I’m sorry. I will go now; I’m sure you won’t want anyone like me here, after knowing all of those. I think the jewels are real. Although I’m not sure if they are since I just woke up wearing them—”

“You are staying, lass.”

“I know. I’m sorry—let me.” She stood, but her legs didn’t work as they were supposed to, and she fell on her knees. Sanji was there to help her.

“I know I gave you 85 days as a hint. But damn, giving out the whole story. So you know me and everything?”

She nodded, and Zeff began to laugh. “Just when I thought I had seen all the world has to offer.”

“You’re just going to accept this, you old man?”

Zeff smirked, “Anyone could have lied better than that.” He looked at Mc and smiled. “I won’t have a freeloader here. You know what this place is, then.”

She nodded, “I can wash the dishes, clean the toilet—wait tables.”

“God no. I don’t need a woman in my kitchen or in the toilet. You’ll wait tables. You start tomorrow.”

Sanji stood, still supporting her. “She can’t even walk!” he protested.

Zeff was about to reply when she patted Sanji’s hand. “I’ll start tomorrow, sir Zeff. Thank you so much.”

"Just Zeff will do, lass"Zeff grumbled and began walking to the door, hearing Sanji sweet-talking her as she left. “Patty will help you with your clothes.”

Sanji paused and shouted, “Old man, Patty won’t know what fashion is if it knocks on his head!”

Zeff glared. “More than you.”

**===**

“I have to say, having the girl waiting on tables isn’t bad,” Patty said, seeing how everyone can actually work in the kitchen better now. She works fast, and all the cooks have to do is the labor of bringing out the heavy meals.

“She has a great smile, pleasing personality—”

“Charming!”

“A sight for sore eyes, you lot aren’t,” Patty chortled, laughing as he proceeded to cart in the finished meals. He smirked, seeing one certain sous chef who was grumbling under his breath as he was stirring a pot. He walked closer, pushing the cart to a designated dishwasher for the week. “Got to get a move on that soup.”

Sanji glared and hissed, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Never thought I’d see the day you would hate being in the kitchen,” Patty leaned forward from the preparation counter.

“Who hates being in the kitchen?” Zeff entered, making Patty straighten up and busy himself, but not before smirking with Carne. “The shit cook wants to wait tables, boss.”

Zeff rolled his eyes, “He is staying in the kitchen. Can’t afford to have him kick another customer out on a whim.”

Sanji took off the ladle he had been stirring and turned, “He was flirting with Mc!”

“And?” Zeff huffed, “You do the same with every woman who darkens the door, little eggplant.”

“Yeah!” Carne added, “She must have learned that from you! That woman charms women and men! Makes you look like an amateur!”

They laughed. “Someone’s getting a taste of their own medicine.”

“Ooooh, getting a taste of their medicine?” Mc walked in, heels clicking on the tiled floor, smiling. “Who is it this time?” She looked expectantly at everyone, who dispersed. “Hey!”

Sanji was about to float over to her when Zeff interrupted. “Lass, your notepad seems to be getting thinner.”

Mc looked down at her little notepad, with a grimace she apologized. “Sorry, Zeff, I just take so many notes. I would need a new one tomorrow.”

Zeff chuckled, “Those notes make customers feel like you’ve known them forever. Take this and buy yourself a whole stack of notes—”

“—Thank you!”

“I can, of course, escort you tomorrow!” Sanji offered, now getting to Mc, who was glowing from the berries that Zeff had handed over.

“Oh no, no need, Sanji. It’s just notes. I can handle it.”

“Get the lass the notebook from my room, Sanji. This one won’t last the night.”

Mc smiled at Sanji, and he went tapping Carne, gesturing to the pot.

As soon as Sanji left, he pulled out a list. “Take him to carry stuff.”

“Oh, okay,” Mc nodded, going over the list that had meat and rice on it. “That makes sense. It’ll be best to get everything at once.” She gasped. “I almost forgot we got this order from table 8, 5, and 2!” ripping off three papers and pinning them overhead of the pot Sanji was cooking.

She breezed out of the kitchen when the bell rang. “Thank you again, Zeff!”

She exited the door when Zeff hollered, “Buy yourself something else too!”

If she was drawn at that moment, she would surely have flowers in the background.

Carne looked at Zeff, who just returned it with a raised brow. “We got enough ingredients for next week.”

Zeff brushed his braided mustache. “The little eggplant deserves the break for how obedient he has been lately,” he chuckled. “Even volunteered to wait tables!”

**===**

“I’m pretty sure by the way you keep feeding me this expensive food, I’ll be in debt forever, Ji,” Mc sighed in content as she savored the dessert she just served earlier, which cost berries she'd earn in a day.

“Then you’ll stay forever with me,” Sanji winked, wiping the utensils they washed together dry.

Mc grinned, “You won’t hear me complaining,” taking another bite, she remembered something, causing her to pause.

Sanji paused and bit his cheek, watching the spoon in her mouth and her fishing out a paper and sliding it to him. “I hope this is a love letter.”

Mc pulled the spoon clean and held it up. “Unfortunately not, I thought about giving you one with the orders, but I don’t know if Carne or Patty will process the order instead, so I held back.”

Sanji blinked. Mc had always flirted back with him and accepted his flirtations, but he always thought it was a game they were playing. She was just charming, and she knew his past; why would someone like that return his love?

“I have a favor to ask, Sanji.”

He raised a brow, taking the paper but not opening it. “It’s a yes, whatever it is, darling.”

Mc opened her mouth to respond as if it was their usual game when she paused and stopped his hand from picking up the slid paper he just covered with his hand.

“Take me out on a date.”

His mind stopped. He watched her eyes, vulnerable and sincere. “Darling…” he trailed.

She can’t be playing with him. She must know how he couldn’t resist females, especially not her. Someone he treasures.

They went on a date. He planned it all out. She made him feel like he is the only man she could see. It was addicting to have all her attention just on him.

**===**

No one asked how old she was; no one was crude enough to ask, not with him, Carne, Patty around. She had always acted maturely. He was sure she was young, younger than him in appearance at least. Her mental age was around mid or late 20’s. Her actions were so, as he observed from their patrons.

It had been years since she drifted on their restaurant. Ever since his 19th birthday, Sanji had noticed her checking the orders or peeking at the customers as if waiting for someone or loud noises. She knew what was going to happen but refused to tell, afraid it won’t happen.

Then the chore boy appeared. Mc was so gentle and nice to him, always saving him and sneaking him food and patting his head. It wasn’t like she wasn’t giving him attention, but she was giving more energy to him. He didn’t like it one bit.

It was night; she was out for her regular singing at night, a small boat a few meters away from the restaurant. She never told anyone; they believed she assumed nobody could hear her, but they did. Everyone kept their windows open to hear her sing.

In her long nightgown covering everything but her hands and face. The glow of the night lamp she brought with her gave her a soft, ethereal glow.

“I always wanted a musician! Be my friend!”

Sanji’s heart leaped. If she left with the chore boy, he would never see her again. She smiled and patted the boy’s head, pushing his straw hat out of the way. “I can only play the guitar and not that well though.”

“Who cares? We can find one that plays music! We’re friends now!”

Her peal of laughter filled the darkness. “I’ll be just a singer then?” she smiled and sighed, “I would only in one condition.”

“Condition?”

She urged him closer and whispered, and before the boy could shout it, she held a finger on his lips. “You can’t tell anyone.” Part 2 here! Thank you for reading! I've never written for Sanji or One Piece before, but this idea won't let me sleep. It's a shame to leave it in my drafts to collect dust. Here's my tribute!

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llamagoddessofficial · 10 months

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Siren au! Instead of meeting in a aquarium like usual, what happens if they meet MC on a stranded boat. Maybe there was a shipwreck and she’s on a life raft, maybe on a piece of wreckage?

ohoOOOOOOO she's trapped in one of those rinky-dink life rafts with nothing but a tarp over the top to protect herself from the sun and rain, and a few day's worth of provisions.

What shall she do...

Sans: He's the first to find her, adrift in the middle of the ocean, with nothing but her raft and rations. Encountering a siren is scary enough on a big boat, let alone in a tiny little raft with nothing to defend herself. She's forced to watch a monster stalking her as she drifts alone in the endless ocean.

... But for some reason... he doesn't eat her. When he finally does approach the boat, he talks to her- despite the frightening look in his eyelights he's strangely approachable. And after that, he starts bringing her supplies. Though she still finds his mannerisms eerie, she's not exactly going to turn down his help... he brings fish, turtles, edible seaweed, birds he snatches off the water's surface, plastic bottles for collecting rainwater. If she can't bring herself to kill something he does it for her. He gives her endless survival tools- and in return, she indulges in his obvious desperation for someone to talk to.

She'd rather the crazy siren wants to help her, after all.

Red: She loves when Red shows up.

Again, at first, she was terrified when a massive shark siren started stalking up to her raft. She very nearly called out for Sans. But then Red popped up, put his arm over the edge of her boat- and he started flirting. She was so shocked that it genuinely made her laugh... something she thought she'd forgotten how to do, considering what she's going through. He regularly appears to just crack jokes, call her cute, and ask her about her life on land- she never would've thought a siren could be so funny. Now, when she hears that familiar "heya, pretty pearl~", she really can't help but light up.

He's clear that he's there to flirt, to play, to have a bit of fun. His easygoing aura keeps her sane... sometimes, it almost feels like he talks to her just to keep her from going mad.

Sans and Red clearly don't like each other. They both want to be her favourite, and they're both territorial. But when they fight, it really frightens her; she retreats into the raft and covers it with the tarp, refusing to come out for hours.

So they behave... just for her.

Skull: He only comes at night, when the darkness is absolute.

She hears the sound of him approaching. His tentacles twisting in the water. She lays flat on her back in the boat, hidden from view under the tarp, terror gripping her entire body. He knows she's there. She hears something brush against the hull, she hears something tapping a repeating rhythm just inches from her face, she feels when he grips the raft and her entire world instantly seems so fragile. She sees light, colourful glows creeping up from the other side of the raft edge... though her curiosity whispers at her to just look once, to see where the light is coming from, her terror keeps her absolutely stone still every night.

She doesn't know why he doesn't just tip the boat, he's clearly capable of it. She doesn't know why he never reaches into the raft, only remaining outside. Maybe he's playing with her. She doesn't know why he seems to like to hum to her, quietly...

... And she doesn't know why he's always gone by sunrise.

#llamagines #life raft au #hehehehehehe #skull doesnt want to violate her 'den' space #it would be extremely rude to do that #she'll come out to him eventually #she has to...#sans: i get all her food. i get all her survival supplies. obviously im her favourite #red: mhm... well. have you considered im her silly little guy

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princessasmosprincess · 9 months

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The Same Page

In the universe of Mermaid Splash

Summary: When your book falls into the sea, you come face to face with the fascinating merman who retrieves it.

Pairing: Satan x GN Reader/MC

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: None.

***

Author's Note: While this work makes a few references to Mermaid Splash, you don't have to have read that one to understand it.

***

It felt so rude to stare, but Satan had never seen anyone’s attention so rapt before. Then again, it wasn't as if Satan had even met other merpeople who were avid readers, other than a few of his brothers.

It was nice to observe a human taking advantage of the privilege of reading.

Satan envied humans for their access to books, he could only get the ones claimed by the waves in shipwrecks. What he wouldn’t give to be able to visit a library, just once, like the ones he’d read about.

Many of the humans he had encountered were foolish sailors who placed more value on riches rather than knowledge. So when they succumbed to the song of Satan and his brothers, he didn't care one bit if their lives were lost to the unforgiving depths.

But you seemed different.

You stretched and crossed one leg over the other on the rail of the ship where you had perched yourself as you read, completely oblivious to the revelry on deck.

He was fascinated with the line of your muscles, the way they were able to keep you rooted in such a precarious location despite gravity, wind, and the bobbing of the ship fighting against you. It looked like it could be a comfortable position for reading, but Satan really couldn't say himself. His lower half was different from yours and he didn't have the same capabilities. Not to mention he was rarely, if ever, totally out of the water.

You turned on your side, facing the water, your legs still crossed at the ankle, the shape not unlike a merperson's tail. You gave a blissful sigh as you turned another page, leaning lazily on one arm.

Beautiful.

He could watch you read for hours. There was something so lovely in the way your gaze skimmed the page, the little expressions you made when you read something you liked. He saw you mouth a word you seemed to be unfamiliar with a few times until it felt comfortable on your lips, giving a satisfied smile as you pronounced it once more and then moved on to the next sentence.

Satan’s heart clenched. He did that too (or he used to, he’d already read the books in his collection several times through). It was comforting to know that humans and merpeople weren't all that different, even in little quirks like that. And maybe that meant he had a chance for happiness with his partner.

Asmo deserved that, at least, for all he had gone through.

A breeze picked up and the ship bobbed against the building current. You reached down to brace yourself against the rail, but in doing so you lost hold of your book and it plummeted into the sea.

“No, no, no!” You cried, hopping back onto deck.

“Lost another book over the side?” Someone called after you.

“Not this time!” Your voice faded away as you ran down into the ship.

You couldn't bear to lose another book, this was the seventh one yet and you didn't have the money to replace it. The story was really getting good, too. If you ran fast enough, maybe you could catch it before it sank under the waves.

You threw open the large porthole on the lower deck around where your book had dropped. The book had already begun to drift away but thankfully it still floated on the surface of the water.

Silently cursing yourself for not thinking to grab a net on your way there, you rolled up your sleeves and reached out to try to grab it.

It was too far away.

You looked around the room for something you could use to retrieve it, but there was nothing but tangles of old rope and empty wooden crates.

Now there was an idea…

You dragged a crate up to the wall under the porthole and stepped up onto it. You pushed your shoulders out of the porthole and stretched as far as you could, the green sea churning just a few feet below you, with only one hand as your anchor to the ship. You probably should have made use of the rope, but you had no time for regret.

“Almost…” You could feel your fingers slipping against the edge of the windowsill, but you needed to retrieve your book. Now.

You stretched as far as you could but the book was still too far away. Your fingertips didn't even brush the cover.

Ripples lapped at the pages, and it almost felt as if the sea was taunting you for your loss, keeping the book just out of your reach.

And in one fell swoop it was swallowed by a wave.

“No!” You sagged against the porthole, disappointed and near tears. Your poor book was lost to the sea.

“You should be more careful,” said a gentle voice.

“I know!” You sniffed, burying your face in your folded arms that leaned over the windowsill. “I just couldn't help it. The breeze felt so nice tonight, and sunset is the perfect time for reading.” The crew would never let you live this one down. Mephisto had already lectured you about making “frivolous” purchases, now he had a reason to tear into you about carelessness.

“You’re lucky I was here,” They pressed the book into your hands, prompting you to look up from your wallowing.

You blinked a few times to clear your vision, “Thank y–” It took you a moment to register what you were seeing.

A handsome man, wearing nothing but a single string of pearls, with golden hair and eyes the color of the ocean, floated in the water next to the ship, his emerald green tail swishing behind him.

You screamed.

Of course Satan had to come to your rescue. It was only right as a fellow bibliophile, although now he was starting to regret that decision.

“Please stop,” He tucked his tail underneath himself and treaded water.

You clutched the sopping wet book in your hands, dripping seawater onto the deck as you began loudly rambling something about not getting enough sleep or reading too many fairytales.

Satan needed to calm you before someone else came to find out what was going on. It would do him no good to have the entire ship, likely stocked with tools meant to catch and maim sea creatures, to be up in arms. How embarrassing would it be for a Prince of the Sea to be killed over a book?

“You know, that book of yours is salvageable.” He said, hoping to distract you from your panicking.

You hugged the book against your chest, “It- it is?” You stammered.

“Stand it on its end and fan out the pages and leave it by an open window, don’t touch it until you’re sure it’s dry. It might take a few days.”

You looked from him to the book and then back to him, “How do you know that?”

He gave a patronizing smile. “I take it you're finished?”

You inhaled a deep, shaking breath. Your eyes were still wide in shock, but at least you weren't screaming anymore.

You nodded, your cheeks growing warm. “I’m sorry. I just. I’ve never seen a merperson before. I didn't even think they were real.”

“Oh, I can assure you, we’re very real.” He snapped his tail up behind him.

You gasped. What a cute reaction.

“Um…” You said, trying to regain your composure, “Thank you for saving my book.”

You cradled it in your arms as if it was your most prized possession, and Satan thought he would melt into seafoam on the spot.

“Yes, well,” He looked away, blush blooming on his cheeks. You were even more lovely up close. “I might have kept it for myself if I didn’t already have the same book in my collection.”

“You collect– do you keep them under the sea?” You asked, cocking your head adorably.

“Of course not,” he chuckled, “I keep them in a cave, safe from the elements.”

“Oh, naturally,” you quipped, a playful twinkle in your eye.

So you weren't just pretty to look at, but clever too. He liked that. Really liked that.

“How else would I know the proper way to dry and preserve books? Waterlogged paper doesn’t make for good reading.” He said.

“No it doesn’t…” You looked down sheepishly at the damp leather and soaked pages.

“But if you heed my advice you won’t have that issue. Just don’t leave it too close to the open window.” He teased.

“I won’t, I promise.”

You seemed to study him with such probing, bright eyes. As if trying to figure out exactly how he worked, which Satan realized with a pang was exactly how he had watched you earlier. The thought made him feel almost giddy, it was as if the two of you were on the same page.

Satan swam up a little closer to you, languidly sweeping his tail out behind him so you could get a good look at his fins, his scales glittering in the low light of sunset. “So, which one were you reading?” He asked.

“Huh?” You blinked, distracted by his physique.

“Which story?” The book you had almost lost was a volume of Greek myths, one Satan had read so many times he nearly had it memorized. It seemed you had good taste in literature as well.

“Oh, I was reading the story of Orpheus and Eurydice,” you grinned. “Orpheus was just about to begin his journey out of the underworld when I dropped my book. Thanks to you, I get to read how it ends.” You appeared to be very excited.

“I see…” Satan frowned.

“What is it? Do you not like that story?”

You seemed to want his approval. Did that mean you sensed a connection the way he did? Satan could only hope.

“No, on the contrary, I love it, it’s one of my favorites. It’s just…” His expression was cryptic, “I’d recommend reading Eros and Psyche next.” Satan turned to leave, he could hear your fellow crew members calling for you up on deck.

“Why that one next?” You wanted him to stay, to prolong the time so you could learn more about this handsome merman you'd been fortunate enough to cross paths with. If only Mephisto hadn't chosen that moment to start bellowing.

“Just trust me.” He flashed a smile that almost made you swoon, “Next time you’ll have to tell me what you think.”

“Next time?” Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. “Does that mean I’ll see you again?”

“Perhaps…” He gave a wink over his shoulder before diving into the sea, his beautiful tail flicking up over the water before disappearing beneath the waves.

***

Cross-posted on AO3

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