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ma1dita · 1 month

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to catch a thief

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.7k

summary: (post-TLT, sea of monsters compliant/spoilers) The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. Your reunion with Luke is nothing you both could have ever expected. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: we’re so back trouble!verse ;) sorry for the post birthday hiatus on this, hope you like it! crack banter but err... she got a lil angsty

(posted 3/22/24, semi-edited)

—

When you wake up to the gentle rolling of the sea, it feels like a comforting embrace in a distant dream. Tangled within pristine white sheets, you could smell the salt through the small opening in the bay window–though this was a far cry from a fairytale conjured by your mind. This was your reality.

You wouldn’t call it a nightmare per se, but the circumstances were definitely less than preferred.

This is not the CSS Birmingham. No, that went up in flames. Retracing your steps to what led you to this—cushy cruise line of a prison, you reckon it’s been a few days now since you’ve become a stowaway, or a hostage. You haven’t quite decided yet.

Gods, this is what you get for passing up on that summer research internship.

Dropping off Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson at camp was supposed to be a fun walk down memory lane—until meeting with your dad, finding out Thalia’s tree had been poisoned, watching Chiron get fired, and essentially getting kicked out by the troll of a man who originally got sent to the Fields of Punishment for marketing the taste of human flesh made you remember that nothing at camp is the way it used to be.

Not like before, when you and Luke used to run it.

Your dad told you to go home and wait till you were needed. Home. Driving away from it this time around was harder than you thought it would be. You’d never been the patient type, and to drop everything just because a god told you to? Hilarious, really.

But almost a week later, after rejoining your friends on an undead ship that you let the kids commandeer, your vital mistake was thinking that Clarisse’s quest would be a breeze. Rookie move, since the last one you were on left you as scarred as Luke was. Even thinking of him now, you run your thumb over the rough patch of skin on your palm.

At the very least you hoped Tyson was okay. The last memory you have of the young Cyclops was watching him from your place on the ladder as he stopped the engines from overheating. Maybe it was the ex-head counselor in you, or your increased threshold to pain, but there was no way in hell you were leaving that kid behind.

The sound of voices from outside your door gets louder now, your throat feeling like you’ve been swallowing wads of cotton and a persistent ringing in your ear that hurts just as bad as when you watch Chris Rodriguez walk in with a plate of food. The last one he slid through the door bumps against his boot, still uneaten and he sighs.

“So what, you’re on a hunger strike now? I forgot how difficult you could be.”

You bark out a laugh. Thankfully it’s loud enough that it almost conceals the rumble of your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you mumble, “Wish it could be an idiot strike. I forgot how much of a bitch you are when it comes to your brother, Rodriguez. How long are you going to keep me here? It’s been days.”

Your former friend rolls his eyes at your dramatics like he doesn’t hold the key to your freedom.

“Three since you woke up, actually. Come on, you’ve gotta eat, or I’ll get my ass kicked,” he grumbles. You raise an eyebrow at that, walking towards the window to dodge the uncomfortable tension that fills the room. He plucks an apple slice off your plate.

“He couldn’t splurge on a balcony view? Monsters aside, it’s not like you’ve reached full occupancy.”

“There are more mortals here than you think. To be honest, he was worried you would find a way to overthrow us,” the tanned boy admits, placing the tray on the dresser. It was always a wonder to him how you and Luke were more alike than you think, even now—even when Luke hasn’t come to see you. Talking to you reminded him that you’re both pains in his ass, and Chris was still unsure of who to be more wary of, but he’s been in charge of watching you for the most part.

“Well tell your stupid captain he has no right to be worried about me. I’d much rather try to jump if given the opportunity.”

There’s no response, so you turn to face Chris who’s eating a croissant with a bashful grin.

“Seriously dude?”

“Listen, I’m hoping if I think of the right words to say, he’ll come in and deal with you himself. Opposite sides of a war and you’re still both giving me a headache. Just like old times,” he chuckles, flakes of pastry dotting across his chest plate. Your mouth quirks into a bitter smile. Old times, when Luke would shove you if he couldn’t think of a reply fast enough. When you’d punch him to get your point across if he wasn’t listening. How a kiss could end any waging war between the both of you.

You swallow, turning slowly to watch your reflection in the glass of the windowpane.

Why hasn't he come to see you? The first day, you remember spending out on the sea—treading water with no land in sight, calling out to your friends until your voice went hoarse, but you didn’t cry. You know better than to show weakness now, even when no one’s around. Chris tells you over a gulp of orange juice that you washed up next to the Princess Andromeda on the second day like it was fate. Though fate was never truly that kind to anyone; it felt like it was laughing in your face. Knocked out cold for two days after, and ignoring all of Chris’s attempts to keep you alive in the days that followed, you’ve been in this room ever since. You barely notice Chris’s departure.

Entering the ensuite bathroom, you splash your face and sip on water from the tap before stopping at the doorway. A shadow flits at the seam near your feet, someone standing just out of sight when you peer through the peephole.

But you know Luke’s there. Sons of Hermes have almost undetectable footsteps, however, Luke walking in and out of your life for as long as he has—there’s no inconceivable way to not know him. Perhaps you couldn’t hear the sound of his feet, but there’s a way the wind shifts your hair, your heart slowing in ease at his presence, and the scent of him reminiscent of skin kissed with the peel of an orange. The skin you used to kiss and greet and know like your own.

The shadow fades just as your hand reaches out towards it, leaving like he always does. Always out of reach.

Even as the Princess Andromeda continues to set sail upon the calm waters of the Atlantic Coast, you look out to the unending horizon and still feel like you’re drowning.

—

“Status report, soldier?”

Chris rolls his eyes, popping the last piece of apple into his mouth as he strolls into the command deck. The both of you had a flair for the dramatic—it serves as his reminder of why you two worked so well. Luke is sitting in his captain’s seat, watching the waves crash against the hull as the sun begins to set on the skyline.

“She’s angry. Anyone would be if they were locked up like that.”

“Well, yeah, but tell me something I don’t know. Something useful, Rodriguez,” Luke says, flicking his pocket knife closed. It’s still sticky with the juice of the fruit, catching onto his finger. He hisses, but then the sound of loud footsteps boom down the corridor, along with the sound of maniacal laughter as the door slams open. The two sons of Hermes look at each other curiously, knowing it all too well.

“You know, the next time you send a 9-year-old to stand guard, remember to not make it the one we used to throw into the lake,” you drawl, sauntering into the bridge and looking around until your eyes land on your ex, “and also remember that you taught me how to pick locks.”

Ethan Nakamura heaves behind you, hands on his knees before he stands to attention and salutes his captain.

“Sir, I was just following orders… and I’m not 9 anymore!” he snaps, glaring at you. Laughing at the absurdity of the situation makes it easier to get through. You thought being surrounded by the undead on the CSS Birmingham was scary enough, but standing in a room with ghosts from your past was somehow worse. Honestly, you learned a lot more by being in that room than if you were to jump ship like you wanted to.

“I taught you how to tie your shoes, Ethan. You’re always gonna be a little kid to me,” you scoff, brushing him aside and walking towards Luke, “your new digs are fancy, by the way. I could tell by all the teenage soldiers chasing me through the tourists.”

He stands up and meets you head to head, as the both of you inspect each other closely.

It’s been a long year without you.

You look thinner. You’ve lost the softness in your cheeks and your eyes are tired. He wonders what you chose to major in, who your roommates are, if you still think of him with a smile on your face. You’re still beautiful.

“You know me, I like to travel in style,” Luke says offhandedly, a half smile on his face. For someone leading a war against the gods, he’s calm in your presence.

“Back when I knew you, we traveled in a tin can that we also called a car.”

His clothes are nicer than anything you’ve ever seen him in. He looks really fucking good, for someone on the run. It’s almost frustrating to see how brawny he’s gotten, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms. You suppose he has nothing to do now but practice and spar (that or he’s definitely flexing for you). Pulling at the drawstring of the joggers you wear, you realize his initials are embroidered on the pocket. Pretentious fuck. Did he change you once you got on board?

Chris and Ethan suddenly get the feeling that they’re interrupting something—a reunion in a blockbuster romantic movie they’ve seen the mortals play out on the ship deck’s projector on Friday nights. The two of you stand there arguing like a married couple despite the fact you are no longer lovers and the bickering continues even when more of Kronos’ army files in. You laugh again at the sight of children walking in—some strangers, others you’ve sung to sleep in cabin 11, all still children, even back from the time before when laughter didn’t have to have a reason, light and airy in the summer sun.

“You’re sick, you know that? Did you just plan to let me rot in that room until it was all over? You didn’t even talk to m—”

“Classic, you’re more mad that I didn’t talk to you over the fact that you’re a prisoner,” he seethes, but you don’t stand down—not now or ever.

“Prisoner? I walked out and none of your Boy Scouts could do anything about it!”

His face is turning red now, jaw tightening at the angst but deep down he misses this—the banter, the thin line between hate and love you both tread on. You may be a damsel. But you were not in distress. To further prove your point, you swing an arm toward one of the boys in black (their uniforms were annoyingly corny), and they all take a step back toward the wall. Your eyebrows furrow, “What type of prison has guards terrified of the prisoner?”

He shrugs, “It was only time before you came and found me. I even gave you a bay window.”

That was not the right thing to say.

“I’ll fucking kill yo—”

“Sir? So do we try and detain her, or….” one of the demigods you don’t know interjects, and Chris Rodriguez sucks at his teeth before he responds.

“Alright. We’ve seen enough of the show. Everyone file out and let Castellan reunite with his girlfriend.”

“GIRLFRIEND?”

“Girlfriend…”

The both of you look at each other, one in anger, the other in sheepishness now that you’re alone. It's even funnier that neither of you deny it.

“You left me there in that room, and by the sight of things around here you prefer being in the company of monsters than being with me, so by the gods, what do you want, Castellan?”

You fall into the captain’s chair exasperatedly, watching him watch you.

“I’m giving you a choice,” he says simply. “You can stay here with me, or you can go.”

“A choice? You captured me to tell me I have a choice,” you spit, as if that was the stupidest thing he could say. “You didn’t give me a choice when you left me.”

“It was a matter of the circumstances. And I didn't capture you—are you mad that I betrayed everyone or not, because I can’t really read you right now, trouble…”

Your eye twitches and your hands are in fists across your lap. Another wrong thing to say.

“Keeping me here until I get the nerve to talk to you is not a choice, asshole. Do you think you could just hide me away until the bad part’s over? To save me until everything's good enough for you?” Your eyes catch onto the droplets of blood that fall onto the hardwood flooring near your feet. His hand is bleeding, and like it’s nothing of the sort you reach out for it.

Luke thinks that if he lets you your hand will still perfectly fit in his, so after a moment, he pulls his hand away out of your reach. Pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket (also embroidered with his initials—note to self, never let a son of Hermes have money), you stand to wrap it around his hand to stop the bleeding. You pretend not to notice his heartbeat increase through the throbbing of the cloth.

“Don’t let my actions make you believe that what we had wasn’t good, trouble.”

“Stop calling me that. Why are they all scared of me? Why won’t you let me touch you?” you whisper, putting pressure on his finger until the blood clots. It doesn’t even hurt, to tell you the truth. Not touching you when you’re right here in front of him is a pain he can’t find the words to describe. But what he’ll never understand is that he’s right. You two were good together. You’d have him through the bad too, if only he let you.

“Because you might think you can fix me.” Or worse, you might change his mind. You don't have to say you love him for him to know it. A part of him wishes he didn’t have to do all of this to prove to you he feels the same.

“Would you have left with me?” he mutters. A wistful look cuts through your anger and he knows he’s finally said something right. His pocket knife is on the control board and your hands drop to your side again when you realize that he may have forgotten to tell his battalion of who you are to him, but he still remembers how you like your apples cut. The silence is loud, even with the twinge that comes with the pain in your eardrum as you sway a little on your feet. Your body still knows it can relax with him, knees buckling with a false sense of security despite your willpower.

“I would've made it so that there was no other option for you but to want to stay.”

A soldier bursts through the door and apologizes for the intrusion, but the both of you have found out all you need to know. The moment is over and Percy Jackson has been captured by the army in his efforts of trying to save the day. There’s a look shared between the two of you that wonders if this will become a trend.

—

Licking your lips as your…Luke guides you out onto the main deck with your hands behind your back, you can taste the salt in your air. It’s almost as evident as the surprise in your friends’ faces when they see you alive. This time, they don’t question your allegiance but in the chaos that ensues, for a moment, you do.

For a moment, you wonder what would change if you decided to stay with him. Would the sky fall under your feet? Would the gods kneel like Luke said they would? Looking at him in your periphery, you realize it’s not what the both of you want, even if it’s the easier way out—to be together despite it all.

The two of you against the world instead of the world against the both of you.

But he won't even touch you—he’s holding you over the sleeves of your shirt, too scared of what you’ve become in his absence. You suppose you’re scared of what he’s become too.

The realization hits that you could defect from your friends, family, and home. You could undo everything that you and your friends have worked towards. But nothing he can say will change the fact that he didn’t choose you.

Luke was right, then.

You did have a choice, one that he still forces you to make as you nod at Percy to flip his last drachma into the open water, opening a direct line of communication to your father to catch the thief—of both lightning and the beat of your heart, in the act.

You realize that if the gods were the least bit grateful that you’ve kept their kids alive for the past half-decade, perhaps fate would be on your side and Luke would still be yours. But life has a funny way of working itself out when Luke admits to the open air of another crime to tack onto his list.

“Kronos was right. I should’ve killed you, Percy.”

The son of Poseidon goads Luke into another duel and you survey your surroundings for a way out. Annabeth burns holes into the side of your head and it gets you thinking, moving faster than you have in days as you walk towards her and Grover. At the raise of your hand, the demigods holding onto the pair drop to the deck, incapacitated with illusions of madness they will never comprehend. The more of them that surround you drop like flies as Luke’s eyes flicker between you and the boy he has at swordpoint.

You’ve gotten stronger in his absence—you never needed to touch him to use your powers after all. Just waiting for the right moment to strike, attacking when Luke finally let his guard down for you. He cracks his neck, knowing you’ve made your choice, so he makes his.

“Get them.”

The monster scrambles across the deck but it approaches you first, clawing at the wood and barely missing your feet as you scream for help, defenseless without a sword and you hear Luke yell your name in alarm before a punching glove-tipped arrow sends it hurtling overboard.

Your eyes lock with his again as you disembark with the Party Ponies, you with your crew as he corrals the mess you made of his. It has to be the salt air that makes your eyes seem a little misty.

Your fates have always been tied.

You protect your home, and he does what he can to protect you. Luke looks over your form like he’s checking if you’re okay, even from a distance— and it makes you wonder if this is how it's supposed to be. Someone leaving, and the both of you apart.

It’s weird to be the one leaving this time, but it isn't as easy as Luke makes it seem each time he does it. You avert your eyes once you see him put his hand in his pocket, him finding what you snuck in on the way to the deck. Luke pulls out a leather bracelet with a black camp bead, the one he missed in the year he’s been gone. He rolls the bead between his fingers, the thing you last touched before leaving him, an emblem of his archnemesis and the summer that changed everything—the consequences of his actions ripping you away from him. When he slides it on his wrist, it lightly clinks against the hilt of his sword, the lone clay bead a force of its own against Backbiter's reverberating power. He feels nostalgia for what could have been crawling through him—though Luke supposes he’s always been too vulnerable when it comes to you.

Is this what you’ve been feeling every time he walks away?

It starts to rain after you leave. Luke watches his crew take cover from the downpour, running in all different directions to hide away from the storm that ravages the Princess Andromeda.

But he stands still, looking up at the sky and hating it for how openly it’s able to cry. Luke is far away from home again—from you and it makes him wonder how much longer he’ll have to be away from you when being with you is what he truly wants.

The mission continues and the ship keeps pushing forward even as the rain washes over him, soaking through his armor and straight to the bone. Raindrops pelt through every crevice, though this onslaught is much kinder, more gentle, even when it’s angry. He closes his eyes and lets it touch his skin.

For a moment, it feels like you.

—

A hand penetrates the tide searching for yours, gripping onto your unconscious one. He’s spent hours ripping holes through time to try to find you, an advantage given to him in a dream by the Titan. The agreement, what keeps him from not running back to you is that you live—and as Luke pulls you out of the ocean waterlogged and turning blue, he wonders if it’s all a farce.

Losing you isn’t worth the wrath of the gods if you’re lifeless in his arms like this.

He shouts your name, pumping your chest with his fists and breathing life back into your lips until you cough out saltwater, head lolling against his knee. Luke’s fingers stroke your hair, touching you for the first time in a year. As life slowly brings the color back into your cheeks he silently thanks Hestia for keeping your flame alight. His soldiers call out to him from the deck, and he steels his resolve as he rows the lifeboat back to the ship. Still, Luke has to uphold his side of the agreement.

He wonders if you’d stay. Even if he knows the answer, Luke wonders if you would ever change it for him.

—

And they tell me you are evil and I answer: Yes, I know. –Patricia Smith

½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader

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ninjaturtlemaniac · 27 days

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Part 10 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas

This may be my last headcanons list, my friends. Will still do art and stuff but I am fresh outta ideas.

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9

Enjoy 💕

Sub Tribes - KPop/Reggaeton/Yodelers/Chaz etc. there's not many of them around because they came from overseas.

King Peppy - Didn't tell Poppy about Viva because he was in the early stages of dementia. (Canon?) For a while he thought Poppy WAS Viva. By the time he realised his 'mistake', Poppy was already grown.

Vacay Island - the brothers sometimes help Bruce at his restaurant. They have name tags with funny 'work names'. Flood, Big Fish, Classy, and Big Brunch. Viva and Poppy have done the odd shift as well, as Pinky and Vista. 😝

Brozone - they became world famous, argued and left BEFORE the cage went around the Pop Troll Tree. (Canon?)

Brozone - there was a rumoured 'unfinished' Brozone song that was supposed to be released after that tour. John finally finishes it and the brothers offer to sing it for Poppy's bridal entrance song. Poppy immediately faints. In my head the song is 'Helpless When She Smiles' by The Backstreet Boys

Brozone - whatever the Trolls equivalent of the Superbowl is, I feel like Bruce and JD would be very into it. Jerseys and face paint and everything.

Bruce - cameras make him self-conscious. If he is in a group he can tolerate it but hates being the only one in the photo.

Bruce - has caught his kids trying to do the Brozone dance routines. He tries to stay out of it best he can and let them have their fun but then they ask him to teach them and doesn't he just melt.

Bruce - has a wedding ring but it is Vacationer sized. He keeps it in his hair mostly but will braid it into his hair like an accessory for special occasions.

Bruce - 100% certain Poppy and Branch's first born would be a boy. "We're a family of five brothers! It took Brandy and I thirteen tries to have a daughter. Trust me, I have no doubt your first egg will absolutely be a boy." *They have a girl* Bruce 😑

Floyd - can only sleep comfortably near an open window. Sometimes can only sleep sitting up.

Floyd - will randomly stare off into space or mutter to himself.

Floyd - *clears throat* I ship Floom! 💕🏳️‍🌈

Floyd - can't stick to new hobbies for very long, he hyperfixates for a week or two then gets bored. Macrame, candle making, soap making, jewelry making, photography are some examples.

Clay - his brothers collectively tried to convince him that he was the adopted brother.

Clay - is quite squeamish. The sight of vomit, open wounds and bodily fluids; Clay will absolutely pass out. Snotty babies make him very uncomfortable.

Clay - gets Viva to braid his hair out of his face only when something really serious is happening *cracks neck* "Viva?" "Yah?" "Braid me" "Yes, Sir." Shwoooop

Clay - Found out the Classical Trolls have a library larger the Pop Village. "Viva, they have a whole wing dedicated to tragedies! Tragedies, Viva!"

Clay - okay, so he and Viva have never been a couple, even if he ever considered it, their work came first and he didn't want to jeopardize what they had. Buuuuuuuttt the thought that another Troll could one day be Viva's person, that she would go to them instead of him for comfort or ideas or laughs or safety or hugs... it makes Clay feel... weird.

Clay - at some point is named some kinda Troll magazines most eligible bachelor. Bro was in a boyband, co-runs a society of survivors, runs a business, is close friends with royalty, has been knighted, has a license to practice accounting and was part of the only known Perfect Family Harmony. He's apparently a hot commodity now.

John Dory - takes night classes to finally get his highschool diploma. Is too embarrassed to tell anyone until he graduates.

John Dory - doesn't get sick often. But when he does, he keeps going to the point of exhaustion.

John Dory - has indeed crossed paths with Delta Dawn before. Both of them have very different versions of the story. "I serenaded her." "The fool was whining something from the inside of a jail cell."

John Dory - has been known to sleep with his eyes open. Freaks people out.

John Dory - will drink milk straight from the carton and put it back in the fridge.

John Dory - teaches Bruce's kids all the swear words and does in fact tell them his rendition of where eggs come from.

Viva - tries to hide sadder feelings from Poppy. Worried that Poppy won't want to hang out with her if she isn't fun.

Poppy - sometimes feels guilty, if things had been different, Viva would have been Queen. Viva tries to reassure Poppy that she is "The right Troll for the role." 👍🏻 Also Viva tries to argue that they both technically get be Queens now anyway.

Guy Diamond - Trolls have eggs when they have powerful feelings of love. Guy Diamond was able to have Tiny because he loves himself so much.

youtube

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neptunefairytales · 2 months

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What do you want most out of season 3? (silly/crack edition)

Just a little something ^^

Please reblog so we can have bigger samples ;)

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman #david tennant #michael sheen #poll #lgbtq #otp #lol #book #fandom #tumblr #my art #artist on tumblr #random

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talesofmysticfalls · 6 months

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We are currently searching and accepting all mod applications! Please fill out and submit if interested! - 21+ Only - Highly Canon and Oc friendly - No Character Limit - Friendly to all - Politics are not allowed - LGBTQ+ friendly - Trolls banned on sight - Many roleplay channels including states! - Multi and exclusive shipping! - Semi-lit to Literate roleplay server, 4+ sentences! - Roleplay events & server events, including hysterical group crack roleplay. - Watch parties of TVD, including favored Episodes. - Roleplay shipping/character discussions - wines-days and vc banter!

(BE WARNED: This server branches off from seasons 3 and 4 for TVD, thus some things might be a little divergent, however, we promise to maintain as close to canon as possible!)

First Group Rp Lore:

The peaceful town of Cold Spring, New York has been thrown into chaos by a series of vicious animal attacks. The violent incidents have caused widespread panic among the townspeople, and as a result, a small group of Lycans has been forced to leave the place they once called home. The once serene and harmonious community is now behind them, the pack arrives at Mystic Falls, GA.

In the town of Mystic Falls, a rogue werewolf has been stalking the group, causing chaos and murdering young women. The town is now in a state of panic over the so-called "animal attacks". As the community comes together, they meet new faces and form new bonds.

Some Questions remain, However:

What is going to happen next? And who will be willing to put an end to one petty Werewolf?

MOD APPLICATION HERE

WANTED CANONS FOR THE SERVER:

- Damon and Stefan Salvatore

- Elena and Jeremy Gilbert

- Caroline Forbes

- All of The Mikaelsons

- Tyler Lockwood

- The Donovans

- Bonnie Bennette (And many more <3)

#pinned post #tvd rp #tvd roleplay #indie tvd rp #indie the vampire diaries rp #indie the vampire diaries roleplay

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sharks-n-bones · 3 months

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Psst hey guys guess what

Guess what time it is

If you guessed Clay time then

YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT IT'S CLAY TIME BABY I FINALLY FISHED HIS STORY BIT LET'S GO

When the flood hit, Clay was suspicious. He kept track of when the rivers usually flooded and other such events so their little village of survivors would be prepared for everything. That being said, the rivers shouldn't be flooding. It was too late in the year for it to be from snow on the mountains melting, and it hadn't rained recently enough for that to be the cause. There were no dams that could've burst to cause such a flood (he'd checked. Like mentioned earlier, this man wanted to make sure their village was prepared for anything), so the rivers overflowing immediately made him wary

Even still, they followed the safety protocols they had for floods. They made sure all gaps and cracks and entrances to the old Bergen golf course were sealed off and patched so no water would seep through. During their time there, they'd also built the walls that surrounded the golf course higher to be on the safe side. He hoped figured that as they usually did, the flood would recede in a few days time, a week or two tops

However, after the first week, the flood showed no signs of stopping. Clay wouldn't have been too concerned, but the water was rising more than it ever had before and showed no signs of stopping. What's worse, is huge storms had begun rolling in. Clay immediately warned Viva of the situation, saying how he didn't think it'd be safe enough for them to stay in the village much longer

Viva seemed reluctant a first, but once Clay explained and showed her everything he'd been keeping an eye on, she agreed with him. They warned the other putt putt trolls together, instructing everyone to split into groups and start building boats

Everyone started building boats and rafts of various sizes, but all were structurally sound. Clay and Viva made sure of that. The putt putt trolls were talented builders and survivalists. They'd all worked together to make the old Bergen golf course their safe haven — a safe haven they would now have to leave behind

It was a race against time. The rain was already causing their village to flood, but they didn't finish building by the time the flood started pouring over the walls of the resort, they'd all drown. Everyone worked day and night, taking shifts to make sure the construction never stopped or slowed

Luckily, they'd all finished building just in time. Everyone loaded all their supplies and belongings into their respective boats and boarded just as the water from outside spilled over the walls and began filling the place they'd called home for so long

Clay had cried softly when he watched everything they'd built, the place they'd called home for so many years, drown beneath the flood. Viva had hugged him tightly as they both peered over the edge of their ship as their home was washed away by waves of rushing water. Clay was sad to see it go, but he couldn't even imagine how Viva must've felt. She'd poured her heart and soul into that place, and now it was gone. They comforted each other through it all

Clay and Viva and a few other putt putt trolls shared a ship together. It was a damn good ship, if Clay said so himself. Enough bedrooms for everyone, plenty of storage space, a large kitchen and common room, and a large garden on the main deck. Overall, he was proud of their ship. They'd all worked hard on it, and now it was time to put it to the test on the water

Over the next few months, the ship held up remarkably well!! The water eventually stopped rising, but by that point, even the tallest mountains had been turned into islands too small to sustain a village. So, they stuck to their little fleet of ships. They stayed together, going from island to island, avoiding Bergen ships, and surviving as they always have

Occasionally, some trolls unlike anything they'd ever seen would poke their heads above the water and offer their assistance. They seemed to glow, even in the daylight, and had fins in place of legs. They had glowing hearts on their chests, the light pulsing with their heartbeats. They said they were called techno trolls, which amazed him. Clay didn't know there were other kinds of trolls besides pop, and judging from the awed but wary looks from Viva and the others, they didn't know either

They accepted the help from the techno trolls, and while they were there, Clay asked about them. They shared some of their music with them, they told them how they lived in the ocean long before the world flooded. They told them about the rock apocalypse, and how the queen of pop by the name of Poppy saved all of troll kind from being turned into rock zombies

At the mention of the queen of pop, Clay heard Viva gasp. She asked more about the queen of pop, how she was doing, what she was like. The techno trolls explained what they could about her, and it was only after seeing how happy Viva was to hear about the queen of pop that Clay realized that must've been the sister she'd told Clay about. He smiled softly and placed his hand on her shoulder. Maybe they'd end up running into Queen Poppy as they sailed

It was a few months after the water stopped rising that a rash had swept across their ships. One after another, suddenly almost everyone had developed rashes on their necks. Those with medical experience tried remedy after remedy, but nothing worked. It, thankfully, didn't seem to be anything serious. No fevers popped up, no fatigue, no other symptoms besides the rash. Well, and some dry skin, but a quick dip in the water fixed that up and that would last a couple days

The next time some techno trolls popped their heads above the water to offer assistance, Clay and Viva asked if they knew any remedies that would help the rash that had spread. One techno troll, presumably a medical judging by the bag he was carrying, took a look at the rash on Clay and Viva’s necks before asking to see their hands. They shared a confused look before complying. The medic sighed and gave them what seemed to be a reassuring smile, and informed them it was nothing harmful to them

He say them down and explained what was happening. How sirens existed and were locked away by techno trolls until recently, how they'd caused the flood, how they'd pumped the ocean that now covered the majority of their planet with magic so ancient and powerful it could transform people. He explained that their theory was that the sirens granted a mercy with the flood by pumping the water full of an ancient magic that would eventually transform everyone into sirens, or at least something similar

Clay asked how they figured that just based off their rashes, and the medic took his hand again. He made him spread his fingers, and that was when Clay finally noticed that the webbing between his fingers seemed longer. He asked if they'd noticed their skin drying out more the longer they’re out of the water, despite using any lotion they may have had. Clay had nodded. The medic asked if they'd noticed their voices becoming more melodic when they sang. Clay nodded again. The medic said they'd noticed these things happening to folks on many other ships. Trolls, Vacationers, Bergens, everyone

At the mention of Bergens also becoming siren-like, the putt putt trolls started panicking. Shouting questions of what they were going to do, how they would avoid them in the ocean, and other such things. The techno trolls seemed confused by their panic. Another techno troll asked what was so bad about Bergens, said they'd interacted with many Bergen ships and they were nothing but kind

Confusion replaced the panic. Viva had asked what she meant by that. The techno woman said how they'd seen trolls and bergens on the same ships, and how they seem to get along swimmingly (hehe). She said how she'd seen them sing and dance together, smiling and laughing and joking around like friends. Clay was dumbfounded. Bergens and Trolls as friends? That was insane. Bergens ate trolls to feel happy, and he'd said as much. The techno troll seemed a bit dumbfounded at that, and said when she'd visited their ships, there was no fear like that on board

Clay didn't know how to respond to that. He'd always thought it was impossible to live alongside Bergens peacefully. Hell, that's why they'd made the putt putt village to begin with! They'd kept themselves cooped inside the old bergen golf course for over a decade! The techno troll spoke up again, saying that she didn't know much about the situation since all the troll genres were still separated at that point, but she'd heard that a few years ago the queen of pop and a grey pop troll had gone to rescue some friends that were kidnapped by bergens, and had somehow shown bergens how to be happy without eating trolls in the process

Clay heard Viva gasp and turned to face her. He could see so many emotions flitting across her face, it was hard to keep track of them all. If the stories were accurate, he believes this would've been the second time Viva’s sister had been directly involved in a historical event and saved troll kind. Clay knew that if it were one of his brothers that had done that, he'd be worried out of his mind. The thought about the bergens stuck with him, too. Were they really safe from them now? Could they finally stop hiding? He looked around and could see a lot of the others thinking the same things

After that, things became a lot more serious and real for most of them. When Clay wasn't making sure everything was shipshape, he was thinking about what the techno trolls had said. He often caught himself glancing at his hands, at the webbing between his fingers. He began to notice the changes more after that conversation. At one point, he'd been thinking hard and bit his lip lightly, only to hiss in pain soon after. He'd brought his hand to his lip, and when he pulled it away, a light dot of blood rested on his finger. He went to the closest mirror to see the damage, only to gasp when he saw his teeth

His canines had sharpened considerably, and he noticed the rest of his teeth seemed a bit sharper too. He'd gently traced his fingers over his teeth in awe and slight horror. He couldn't help but wonder what he'd look like when the mutation was complete. He looked out a nearby window, spotting the other putt putt ships, an expression that walked the line of curious and concerned etched on his features. He wondered how the rest of their small fleet of ships would take it, and in the back of his mind, he silently hoped his brothers were alright and handling this better than he was

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