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roguelov · 10 months

Text

Let Me Help

Summary: On a mission with Miguel to stop a variant of Doc Ock, you accidentally inhale something you shouldn’t have. You actively try to ignore these burning desires raging through you. However when Miguel notices your odd behavior, he finally confronts you. A confrontation that leads to this thing you need most: him.

Word Count: ~6.6k

Reader: Afab (no fem pronouns used)

Warnings: SMUT (sex pollen, fem!masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, oral (fem!receiving), doggy style, multiple orgasms, slight praise kink, voyeurism, cockwarming, switch!reader, switch!Miguel), smut with some feelings, unestablished relationship, mutual pining

MINORS DNI/ 18+ ONLY

The salty harbor water splashed against the algae covered docks of the warehouse district. Smog of the city filtered into the already cloudy night sky. The sea and city - cars and boat horns - clashed together in an odd cacophony. Your nose wrinkled as the sting of salt mixed with newly poured asphalt.

On top of a warehouse, you and Miguel stood side by side overlooking the massive, old and rundown, area. Another anomaly was plucked and dropped off in a universe where they shouldn’t be. The Spider-Man, Peter W. Parker, of this world was unfortunately and temporarily subdued by the anomaly, a variant of Doc Ock. Peter was completely paralyzed from his encounter and was resting back at HQ as a team tirelessly tried to work on an antidote for him.

“Be careful,” Miguel warned.

“Always am,” you smirked under your mask, before leaping off the building to search the west end of the docks.

Miguel scoffed. Yet, his eyes watched you intently as you landed on another building. You slipped inside one of the broken windows and disappeared from view.

He paused, hesitating for a second, then turned away.

Searching through your area, the anomaly wasn’t in the first building. Or the second. You hoped, sending out a small prayer to the universe he was in the last building. If not, maybe Miguel had more luck than you.

The last warehouse was filled with wrecked boats strewn up on lifts, scattered repair parts, and half broken shipping crates. Moving around, your footsteps were light, and unheard. Nothing creaked, and dust barely moved. You tried a few office doors only to find them locked, or rusted shut. Sighing, you knew of another way to enter and luckily they all lined the edge of the warehouse.

Outside once again, you carefully scaled the building approaching the first set of windows. Brown paper covered most of the dirty glass, yet one window had no covers. The paper was luckily torn back. Peering inside, it was a packed room.

A manager's office was reinvented. The desk was pushed to the far wall. Crates piled into the room, acting as other workstations. Old and battered scientific equipment, some even haphazardly thrown together, filled the desk and crates. Cracked glass - cups, beakers, and vials - were scattered about. Scraps of tarp were laid across the floor and hung from the walls as if for protection. A harsh pungent smell soon assaulted your nose. Your face scrunched up in disgust. Chemicals, any and all so it seemed, were carefully placed into rows on the floor and on top of crates. While vials lined a chipped wooden shelf, poorly screwed into the wall. Each one a different color, and labeled with a system you didn’t comprehend or care to understand.

It was crowded, an office turned into a makeshift lab.

Yet, your eyes fell back to the obvious man taking up the cramped space.

If you could call him that.

He was an experiment, a genetic splicing, gone wrong. He was a human on top while stormy blue grey tentacles were his legs. Strangely, he moved so easily. The appendages carried him with perfect posture, and also effortlessly reached for material around the homemade lab. As a tentacle slithered past your view, you quickly noted the tips had black barbs.

You carefully pushed on the window to thankfully find it unlocked. You crawled through and softly dropped in. But, he was somehow alerted to you.

He whipped around, beakers and vials with unknown liquid swayed in his hands. Massive goggles were strapped around his bulging inky black eyes. Tubes of water wrapped around the side of his neck over gills. A torn, stained lab coat hung off his bare torso. Yet, despite his somewhat menacing appearance, he cowarded at your presence. A whine, a bubbling of water, erupted from him.

You raised your hands, hoping to calm him, “Hey, hey, there’s no need to be scared. We’re just going to get you back home, okay?”

As if proving your point, he glitched. He groaned, leaning into a wooden crate. His massive eyes locked with yours. He violently shook his head. “No, I’m not going back.”

“I’m sorry, but you have to. If you don’t you’ll destroy yourself and possibly this universe.”

“No!” He immediately threw whatever vial he had in his hand.

You easily dodged it, but it splattered into the wall behind your head. A sickly sweet aroma filled your nose. You coughed, waving it away. While you were distracted, he fled. He moved with surprising agility, and squeezed through a small air vent.

“Shit.” You coughed one last time. You pressed your watch, calling Miguel. Clearing your throat, you said, “Miguel, I found him. Far west end of the docks, and he’s on the move.”

“Understood.”

You stepped forward and the world tilted. You quickly stumbled into the crates. You grunted as a dull ache rolled through you. Clenching your jaw, you shoved down the pain.

Not now. We will deal with this later.

You dove through the window to catch Doc Ock who was scrambling down an alleyway. His tentacles made a distinct ‘thwap’ as he ran away. For a moment, your vision blurred. Your grip loosened as you slid down a few inches down the brick wall. Gritting your teeth, you shook your head. Everything cleared again. Ignoring the obvious signs, you fired a web and swung down into the alley.

Miguel, however, beat you to it.

Landing in the alleyway, Miguel stood over the now unconscious Doc Ock. The red glowing webs secured around his torso and tentacles. You let out a silent thanks.

Miguel turned around, and approached you. “Are you okay?”

His voice reverberated throughout your body. Your heart leapt into your throat. You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself. “Yeah, I’m good.”

His eyes trailed over you. You were breathing heavily, why? Did the two of you fight? How did this anomaly slip past you?

“Ready?” You asked, already opening up a portal.

“Yeah,” he muttered, grabbing the anomaly.

After dropping off the anomaly at HQ, you said your quickest farewells and practically ran back home to your universe, to your apartment. Your chest started to constrict horribly when Miguel was nearby. It wasn’t the giddy childhood crush you were already accustomed too, but this deep heart wrenching ache of desire.

It frightened you.

You had to get away from him.

Returning home, you found your city basking in the moonlight. Neon signs and billboards flickered in the distance. And the usual rush of cars quieted down just enough for most of the city to fall asleep. However, sleep would not come tonight for you.

You tossed and turned endlessly. Your heart raced, like a hummingbird in flight trapped in a cage. Sweat beaded over your forehead. The dull ache from before started to move farther south of your body. You groaned and arched your back.

What … what the hell is this?

You rolled over, burying your face into the pillow.

We’re fine. It’s fine. It’ll pass.

It didn’t.

The moon, with its siblings of stars, fell and the soon burning and bright sun rose over the horizon. Yet, these sensations never wavered. Dare you say, they intensified. Your sheets were kicked off the bed, pillows tossed across the floor in fits of rage, and your clothes skewed and damped with sweat.

Fuck.

Your body ached horribly.

Hot flashes surged through you in intense waves. You groaned, curling into a tight ball. However, it was the growing heat between your legs that was becoming unbearable. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together. The minimal friction, basically nothing, caused you to moan.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

Shower. A cold shower might help.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. You turned on the show to the coolest, and still comfortable, temperature. This should help, hopefully. Stripping out of your sweaty clothes, you hopped in. You hissed slightly. The water was a shock to your overheated, clammy skin. Pressing your palms into the shower wall, you dunked your head under the water like a poorly done baptism. You needed to cleanse yourself and your unholy thoughts.

You forced yourself to stay there. You gritted your teeth, and squeezed your eyes shut. The water pounded over you. Each drop were needles: sharp, quick, and irksome. But, standing under the water, you were still unbelievably hot, still painfully aroused.

Screw it.

One hand skimmed down your body between your legs. One swipe over your soaking folds and your knees nearly buckled. Still holding yourself up with one hand, and hunched under the running water, you slowly dipped your fingers inside yourself.

And immediately, his face appeared behind your closed eyes.

You could easily conjure up a scenario, and you happily indulged in your fantasy.

He was in the shower with you. Still bent over, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up. His chest pressed firmly into your back. His skin was so warm compared to the cool water. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear. His thick fingers were inside you, it was his fingers bringing you to your release.

You moaned, pumping yourself faster.

“That’s it,” his voice whispered in your ear. “Just like that.”

“Shit,” you hissed.

“Come on,” he encouraged with a light chuckle. His hand brushed up your sides to your breasts. He gently pinched and played with your nipples. “Come on, cum around my fingers.”

You curled your fingers, making your walls flatter. You whimpered. The sinfully wet sounds mixed with the water rushing over you. You were close, far closer than you expected.

His lips skimmed down your neck. “That’s it, almost there.”

You bit your lip. You quickly flipped yourself around, supporting yourself with your back to the shower wall. Your other hand played with your clit, swirling around, as your fingers worked faster. It was messy, it was desperate. A whine rumbled in the back of your throat.

“Oh, please, cum for me. You’re so close, I can feel it.” His fingers curled, beckoning you towards your end.

It built and built, then it all snapped so suddenly and forcibly. You came hard around your fingers. “Fuck,” you hissed out.

He hummed, working you through your orgasm. “There it is.”

You leaned heavily into the wall, panting and dizzy from your rapid orgasm. You closed your eyes for a second, and let the water wash everything away.

Meanwhile, a familiar looking portal opened up in your bedroom. Miguel stepped out with a tension wrought into his shoulders. His mask retracted and his crimson eyes slid over your room, your messy room. He raised an eyebrow, surveying your room. The one thing that concerned him the most was you weren’t here.

Where were you?

“Fuck.”

Miguel’s head whipped over to the closed bathroom door. He heard you so clearly. He almost moved, almost burst through the door, but he stayed rooted in place.

Why couldn’t he move? What if you were in trouble, what if -

The shower turned off. He heard you move around, and he saw your shadow flash under the door. If you were moving, then maybe nothing was wrong. Then without warning, the bathroom door swung open with a resounding bang.

Miguel flinched, startled by the sudden noise.

Water still dripped down from your hair and down your face. Hunched forward, you propped yourself up with one hand on the doorframe. Your chest heaved. You gulped down air as if you ran a marathon. You wore only a baggy shirt which clung to your still wet skin. Your eyes swiveled over, instantly clocking Miguel’s unexpected presence.

Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, ignoring his initial question.

“You haven’t responded to my calls.”

You glanced over to your watch, blinking on your nightstand. “Sorry, I was busy.”

His eyes trailed over your body. Concern filled him. He repeated, “Are you okay?”

“Just dandy.”

His lips thinned. Why were you like this? So goddamn stubborn sometimes. “You don’t seem fine, especially since our mission last night.”

“I’m just tired,” you huffed. “And a little sore.”

God, even now your body was still aroused. And with Miguel being here, it was making everything so much worse. Your fantasy from only moments ago was seared heavily into your mind.

He needed to leave before you did something you regretted.

Miguel sighed, crossing his arms. “Are you sure? Did -“

“I said I’m fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever.” So be it. He pressed a button on his watch, opening up a portal back to HQ. He paused. He clearly wanted to say something, but didn’t. He stepped through without uttering another word.

You wanted to call him back, you wanted to shove him onto the bed, you wanted to him and happily bounce on his -

You groaned loudly, rubbing your hands over your face.

Dear god - universe, whatever - just someone save me from myself.

You reluctantly crawled back into bed. Maybe, the shower helped. Maybe, with Miguel gone you could rest. Maybe, this was all over.

Maybe, you were just delusional.

Tonight was no better than last night. In fact, it was probably worse. Fantasies of Miguel flooded your mind, and you couldn’t satisfy yourself no matter what you did.

You will find a solution tomorrow.

There had to be one.

The next morning, before the sun properly greeted the world, you pushed yourself up and out of bed. You had an idea on where to start. Not bothering with your suit, you kept your baggy shirt and pulled on an old pair of sweatpants. You slipped on your watch and opened up a portal to HQ. You marched directly towards the area where all the anomalies were being contained. Containers lined the area as their chorus of voices begged to be released. Your eyes swiveled around, trying to locate the one anomaly who had any possible explanation to your current endeavor. But, you couldn’t find him in the sea of people. Getting frustrated, you turned your attention towards the person operating the ‘Go Home’ machine.

“Spider-Byte.”

Margo, the purple holographic girl, whirled around. She smiled only for it to falter given your appearance. You were obviously and very plainly pissed. You glared icily, unable to calm yourself. Worst of all, every time you moved, pain and pleasure rolled through you.

“Whoa, are you -“

You cut her off, “The Doc Ock, the one Miguel and I brought in yesterday, is he still here?”

“Uh.” She brought up a screen and tapped on it. “Yeah, he’s still here but not for long. I’ll have him back home in a few hours.”

“I only need a few minutes. Just point me in the direction where he is.”

Margo did so without question, she gestured down a row of anomalies. Mumbling your thanks, you spun around weaving down the aisle until you finally saw him. You stomped over and pounded on the container.

“What the hell did you do to me,” you gritted your teeth.

The man blinked owlishly. “I’m sorry - oh, oh! You! Oh, this is fantastic! I’ve been hoping to see -“

You slammed your fist again. “Answer me! What the hell did I inhale!”

He shrank, and squeaked. “Oh, uh, that’s … that’s complicated.”

“How so?” You sneered.

“Well,” he fidgeted, his tentacles squirming around. “I don’t know exactly what I gave you.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I … I was experimenting with my toxin and - and I was constantly adding new compounds to it or trying to rewrite it.”

You clicked your tongue, and raised an eyebrow.

“And well, I was trying to make it stronger, more of a deadly venom than a paralyzing agent.”

“And so you don’t know what you gave me or what was in it?”

“… no … I needed more time to study it.”

“Fantastic.”

“Well, what are your symptoms? Tell me, what are you feeling? Any discomfort? Any pain? What about hallucinations?”

He was like a giddy child.

“Oh, yeah definitely some discomforts,” you sarcastically replied. You shook your head and turned away. He shouted after you, but you simply ignored him. It took all of your strength and willpower to not break through the containment and pummel him.

Taking calming breaths, you swiftly left the area. Passing by all the anomalies, each of them shouted at you as you tried to think of a way to make this suffering end. Peter W. Parker apparently was still in the medical wing dealing with his paralysis. So, time seemed to be the only reasonable solution you could think of. And it had been a day, surely it would wear off by now.

Even if you felt worse every hour.

“(Y/N).”

A hand curled around your wrist.

A fire unfurled in the pit of your stomach by such a delicate touch. You shuddered. You kept your head trained forward, and your back to the last person you wanted to see. He couldn’t see you like this.

Not now, not after yesterday.

“What’s wrong?” Miguel asked, then took in your disgruntled appearance. “You look like …”

Horrible? Like shit?

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” you quickly answered, tugging your wrist out of his grasp.

“Clearly,” he sarcastically replied.

You bit your tongue. Dear god, his voice. So smooth, so rich. “I’m tired, okay? So, I’m just going home.”

“Wait -“

“Good day, Miguel.” You pressed a button and stepped through the portal.

Miguel clenched his fists. He was about to chase after you when Lyla appeared saying others needed him. Begrudgingly, he left. But, this wasn’t the end for him. He will get a proper answer from you.

You sighed deeply, standing back in your room alone. You collapsed forward onto the bed. A muffled groan erupted from you.

I can get through this, I’ll be fine.

An hour passed.

An ice pack, barely cold anymore, laid across your forehead. Your pants and underwear were discarded. You constantly tugged on the collar of your shirt and fanned yourself. Your body ached. You wanted to claw at your skin, you wanted to rip your hair out, you wanted -

You wanted Miguel. God, you wanted him terribly. You wanted him to bend you over.

“Just like that,” you imagined he would coo as he slipped his cock inside of you.

You tried pleasuring yourself, but nothing helped. Nothing satiated you. This swelling sensation only became more and more intense.

You hissed and curled up onto your side. The ice pack slid off your forehead. You lazily picked it up, tossing it onto your nightstand. Your eyes blinked slowly. You stared blankly at the wall, trying to focus on something - anything. Anything but the dampness between your legs, anything but your spiraling perverted thoughts.

Move.

Do something.

Call for help.

You languidly pushed yourself up, and hunched forward. Your head fell into your hands. Your chest continued to heave and tighten. Your heart pounded and rang in your ears. “Fuck me,” you muttered under your breath.

“Only if you ask nicely,” Miguel chuckled.

You shivered.

Almost summoned by your thoughts, yellow and orange lights burst to life behind you. You twisted around. A portal opened up, and a familiar hulking figure walked through: Miguel. Seeing his face, your heart sank. You whipped back around, unable and unwilling to face him.

Why? Why the hell was he here?

He squinted, seeing your decrepit posture on the edge of your bed. “Still fine I see.”

You rolled your eyes. “What do you want? I’m trying to rest.”

Miguel shuffled over. “I came here to see why you’ve been acting weird.”

“It’s nothing.”

He sighed, a short disappointed sigh. He lowered himself onto your bed. A notable gap was between the two of you. Yet, you could feel the heat roll off of him. You unconsciously leaned slightly towards him, desperately seeking him out.

“Talk to me.”

I’m worried about you, he thought.

He hadn’t stopped worrying. You were constantly on the forefront of his mind. Most of all, he wondered why you were avoiding him. Why were you locking yourself away in your room? What happened?

You stayed silent.

Miguel gently rested his hand on your shoulder. “Look -“

You flinched. You leapt away and hastily took a few steps away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

One touch and your body nearly crumbled.

His hand fell. Shock evident on his typically stoic face. His fist clenched. Anger was now getting the better part of him. “I’m trying to help you.”

You hugged yourself, keeping your back to him. “I’m - I'm fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He stood up. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” you repeated harshly.

Miguel clicked his tongue. He had enough of your constant dismissal. He grabbed your shoulders and whirled you around to finally face him. You gasped. He stared intently down at you, dissecting and analyzing you. You were panting, your skin glistened with sweat, and notably your pupils were completely dilated.

“What -“

You jerked away from him. And you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.

Oh. Oh.

Miguel’s cheeks darkened faintly. He placed his hands on his hips, and glanced away. He cleared his throat, “How … how long have you been like … like that?”

You crossed your arms, and sighed. There was no use hiding it anymore. “Since our encounter with Doc Ock.”

His eyes flickered up. “So, he did do something to you.”

“… yes.”

“Which was?”

“He … he threw some substance at me and I accidentally inhaled it.”

He rubbed the spot between his brows, a common place for his headaches to start. “And why did you tell me?”

You tsked and sneered, “Oh sorry, boss, I can’t come in today. I can’t focus or do anything because I am unbelievably and painfully horny.”

God, this is humiliating.

Miguel sighed deeply, dropped his shoulders. “Well, maybe Doc Ock can -“

“He can’t help. I already confronted him, he was just a mad scientist who didn’t know what he created.”

He shifted his weight side to side. “Well, have you … you know …”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Miguel, we are not having this conversation.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes scanned over you again. God, he couldn’t deny that you were absolutely delectable right now. His mind ran rampant with impure thoughts. It was the way your lips parted as you breathed heavily, it was the way your body squirmed, it was the way you desperately tried to bury the noises ready to jump out, it was the way you adamantly avoided his gaze, it was the way your hardened nipples poke through your shirt, it was the way how he could smell you and your arousal.

He wasn’t blind to your beauty. He was simply ignorant to his feelings and attraction. He buried it deep within him, unwilling to acknowledge any of it. But, seeing you now, seeing the discomfort you were in, seeing you in such a needy state, he wanted to help. He took a cautious step forward, “Maybe I can help.”

You snapped your head up, staring wide eyed at him. “What?”

“I said maybe I can -“

You shook your head and backed yourself away from him until your back bumped into the wall. “No, no, what needs to happen is that you need to leave.” Swallowing down such desire, you closed your eyes and muttered, “Just go.”

“I’m not leaving.”

Fucking hell.

You shouted, “Just get the hell out of here!”

Miguel didn’t respond. Cracking open your eyes, his gaze bore directly into you. It was a searing gaze. Your knees nearly buckled under the intensity. He stepped closer.

“Please,” you whispered, practically begging. “I - I … just … just not like this, not because of my dumb mistake.”

He froze, and his eyebrows knitted together.

Your gaze dropped to the ground. You couldn’t - and wouldn’t - look at him.

He slowly continued to walk towards you. You forced down a whimper. Sandwiched between the wall and him, he gently grabbed your chin. You flinched and squeezed your eyes shut. It pained you immensely to fight so fiercely against your desires and needs. He tipped your chin up. “Look at me.”

You kept your eyes closed, and your face scrunched up.

“Por favor, cariño. Please, look at me.”

Your heart flipped at his unusually sweet tone. You opened up your eyes, and was immediately greeted by his strangely, endearing, rosy crimson eyes.

“Good,” he murmured.

Oh, fuck.

Biting down on your tongue, you forced down any noises that almost dared to crawl out. You dug your nails into your palms. You wouldn’t dare touch him because if you did you wouldn’t let go.

“If I didn’t care for you in this way, I wouldn’t be here. I would be back at HQ working on a cure, on some antidote.” His other hand reached out and rested on your hip. He drew you close, flushing you to his chest. “But, am I at HQ right now?”

You didn’t trust your voice. You simply shook your head, a small twitch.

“You’re right, I’m not. I’m right here asking - begging - to let me help you.” He bent his head down, brushing his lips over yours. “Please, I want to help … I’ve … I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Miguel.”

“Please.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t … I don’t know what’ll do. I don’t know if I can control myself.”

He slowly pulled up the hem of your shirt. His hand skimmed across your lower back. He laughed once, “I can handle it. Please, let me help.”

His fingers lightly touched your skin. A groan rumbled in the back of your throat. “I don’t want you to think differently of me,” you whispered as your eyes dropped to his lips.

Your excuses were hollow now.

He moved his head, letting his lips brush over your neck. His hands snaked further up your back, and his talons gently scraped down. You moaned, arching your back into his touch. Your hands latched onto his biceps, squeezing them.

“My opinion of you won’t change,” he muttered into your neck. His leg slid between yours. Your swollen clit rubbed against his massive thigh.

“Fuck,” you hissed, clinging onto him.

“Just say yes, cariño.” He nuzzled his face into your neck. “I want to help.”

You cupped his face, looking directly into his eyes. His eyes were begging, pleading, for you. You brought him down, giving him a sweet, loving kiss. He hummed, wrapping his arms around you. However, you quickly broke the kiss before he could truly enjoy it.

Miguel didn’t understand. How would he know? He inadvertently poured gasoline over the already raging fire inside of you. Your eyes darkened. You pushed Miguel backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed and he flopped backward. He held himself up on his forearms, stunned by your sudden change.

A smirk curled over your lips. A beast, one you had been holding back for more than a day, was finally unleashed. Locking eyes with him, you slowly stripped out of your shirt - your only article of clothing - letting it dramatically drop to the floor.

Miguel’s eyes greedily drank in your naked figure.

You crawled onto his lap, straddling him. You pushed him down so he laid flat against the bed. His hands instantly rested on your waist. You hovered over him, planting your hands on either side of his head.

He looked up at you with absolute adoration. He could not describe how thrilled he was right now.

You bent down, kissing him passionately. As you took the lead, you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss. Miguel hummed. He brought your hips down, making you grind down on him. You moaned into the kiss. Breaking apart, you muttered, “Fuck.”

You peppered kisses all over his face, and across his jaw. You desperately wanted to trail your lips all over him. It was such a ravenous feeling. You needed to mark him, to bite him, to taste him.

“Take the suit off,” you murmured, kissing the corner of his jaw.

He let out a pleased sigh. The digital suit retracted with a whirl of colors, revealing himself to you. You bit the inside of your cheek as you felt the tip of his cock brush against your inner thigh. Your lips brushed down his neck. He tilted his head, allowing you better access to do whatever you wished. Your heart soared. You slowly - teasingly so - kissed the crook of his neck. His grip on your hips tightened. Like a switch, you attacked his neck. Your teeth scraped across his sensitive skin. You nipped all along his neck needing to mark his skin. Oh, it excited you to know that these bruises would be under his suit tomorrow. Your tongue swirled over soothing any pains.

Miguel moaned.

What a beautiful sound.

Stopping your attack on his now blemished neck, your lips trailed further down his body. You kissed over his chest, occasionally biting his skin. Your eyes flickered up, seeing his head tilt back. You ran your teeth over his nipples. He groaned. You licked up his chest, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. You kissed up his jaw to his ear, and gently nibbled on his lope.

Miguel clenched his jaw. His heart flipped in his chest. He didn’t expect this, he didn’t expect to ever be here like this with you. He surely didn’t expect the control you quickly had over him.

And oh, he loved it.

Lifting yourself up, you teasingly rubbed his tip across your dripping folds. He groaned, almost whimpering.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned.

At such a simple movement, you were seeing stars. You weren’t sure how long you would last. You wanted to draw this out longer, you wanted to have more fun with him, but you couldn’t.

You needed him. And you were nearly insatiable.

You slowly sank down on his cock. Miguel hissed. You placed your hands on his chest, panting. Miguel soothingly rubbed his thumbs over your hips. You moaned, feeling how he stretched and filled you. No one made you feel this full or good. As you bottomed out, you swore under your breath.

Miguel chuckled to himself.

But, his amusement was cut short when you started to move. Lust flooded back into his veins. He moaned out your name. His talons popped out and dug into your hips.

You set the pace, a nearly brutal but wondrous pace.

And Miguel thought you looked divine.

Your head tilted back to the heavens. Your lips parted as you whispered his name like a prayer. Your body arched like an angel soaring up, like a renaissance painting. Your hands traced up your hypnotic body, playing with your breasts. He wanted to draw you back down, he wanted to shower you in kisses, he wanted to flip you over and pound into you. But, this was all for you. You were the one who was affected by something strange, you were the one to take the lead. You rolled your head, glancing down at him. A soft smile tugged on your lips.

Oh, the way you looked at him, the way you bounced on his cock, the way your eyes softened with affection, he felt his heart was going to explode.

His cock twitched inside of you.

You hummed.

You rolled your hips, and he swore in Spanish. Smirking, you changed the pace. It was slow and easy - just to have your fun, no matter how short lived it might be - then flipped to hard and fast - desperate to reach your end. And your end was coming quickly.

You happily split yourself and continuously moaned out his name. “Miguel,” you moaned, dropping your hands back on his chest. “I - I won’t last much longer.”

Miguel felt your walls clench around you. He gritted his teeth, and moaned. “That’s okay, that’s okay,” he whispered.

He helped you, lifting your hips along with your movements. He slammed you back down right as he bucked his hips up, grinding you further onto him. You gasped and swore.

“Fuck, Miguel, keep doing that,” you whimpered.

He smirked, enjoying your sounds. Moving you faster, you pounded on his cock. Your nails scratched across his chest in red ribbons. The coil tightened and tightened in the pit of your stomach.

You whined.

Miguel wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and lose himself in the feeling of you. But, he also wanted to watch you come undone. So, he watched hungrily.

It was getting sloppy and erratic.

You closed your eyes. You dropped your head, tucking your chin to your chest. But, fingers gently guided your chin back up. “Eyes on me,” Miguel murmured. “Please, I want to see it.”

You melted into his touch, then he bucked his hips right as you went down. The coil snapped. Your walls clamped down around him as your orgasm crashed through you. You moaned out his name as you stared down at him with hooded eyes.

Miguel clenched his jaw. Oh, what a sight. His cock jumped.

Your movements, however, didn’t slow down. You wanted Miguel to cum, you wanted to feel it. You grabbed Miguel’s face and forced him to sit up. You kissed him heatedly as you still rode him. Miguel hummed. Your fingers threaded into his dark curls, and yanked on them.

He whined.

Your eyes sparkled. “Come on, Miguel. Cum for me.”

Miguel shivered. Your words, your body, it was so wondrous. He bucked his hips up, cumming inside of you.

Finally stopping your relentless movement, you dropped your head onto his shoulder. Both of you were gasping for air. Your eyes flickered down, seeing the mess you both created.

You shivered.

Miguel, however, surprised you. He flipped you over, landing you on your back. You gasped. Before you could do or say anything, Miguel dropped to his knees onto the floor, yanked your body down the bed, then nestled his face between your legs.

He devoured you like a starved man.

Your lips parted in a silent moan as your eyes rolled back. You arched your back, and tangled your fingers into his hair.

He wanted to taste you. God, he dreamt of this so many times. Although, he didn’t dare admit it out loud. He groaned. He lifted one of your legs, tossing it over his shoulder. His hands fiercely grabbed your thighs. His talons scraped along your inner thigh. He buried his face deeper. His nose brushed over your already sensitive clit and you cried out. He growled, the taste of you and him on his tongue was divine.

“Miguel,” you gasped.

He forcibly pulled himself away, panting. His chin and lips were covered in mixed juices. His eyes were lit with primal desires. He smirked, flashing his fangs. You scrambled up. You grabbed the back of his neck, smashing your lips to his. You easily slipped your tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around. You hummed in delight, tasting him and yourself.

You still wanted more.

Needed more.

The residual of whatever affected you still lingered.

You pulled away from him. Your combined hot breaths filled the minimal space between the two of you. With you still on the bed on your knees, you finally had some height over Miguel. You cupped his face, and tilted his chin up. His arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you into him. You smiled then brushed your thumb over his lip. Without hesitation, he parted his lips and you slipped your thumb into his mouth. His tongue ran over the pad of your thumb, and the tip of his fang grazed over it.

You shivered, causing him to smirk.

You removed your thumb. You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned down, kissing him sweetly again. It was a confession, and a thank you. He sighed into the kiss. You slowly parted, lingering for a second. It was so tender, despite the cum and saliva coating his chin and your lips. And your following words reminded Miguel how and why he got into this bizarre, surreal situation.

“I want you to fuck me from behind,” you whispered.

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up for a moment, then he chuckled. “Of course,” he purred. Whatever you wanted, he was happy to do. “Can you get on your hands and knees for me?”

You bit back a smile. Your fingers skimmed along his jaw as you backed away and got into position. Miguel watched, transfixed. His eyes trailed down. Seeing your soaking folds, he moaned softly. He can still taste you on his tongue. He licked his lips. Crawling onto the bed, he carefully grabbed your hips.

“You’re too good for me,” he confessed quietly.

You sighed under the simple praise.

He lined himself up, just teasing your entrance. You began to fist the sheets in anticipation. He leaned down. His broad chest pressed firmly into your back, and he whispered in your ear, “But now, let me be good for you.”

He easily pushed himself in.

You moaned unabashedly.

“That’s it, let me hear you,” he grunted.

This round was hot and fast. There wasn’t adoration or love this time, this was solely desires and sins. This was using each other’s bodies.

And Miguel was animalistic. God, it was utter bliss.

You grinded back, meeting his thrusts. You dropped down onto your forearms unable to support yourself fully. Your face buried into the sheets as you cried out. His cock was kissing spots you didn’t think was possible.

Miguel smiled, enjoying your muffled sounds and how you squirmed. His fingers reached around and began to play with your clit. You swore as your body shuddered. Your walls fluttered around him.

He rolled his head back at the sensation. It was as if you were made perfectly for him.

“Miguel,” you whined.

You wanted this so badly. You moved your hips feverishly in tune with his. Skin slapped together, wet noises echoed, and voices cried out. Miguel gasped. His talons buried into your hips, drawing out small specs of blood. He gritted his teeth, almost baring his fangs.

“Ay dios mío,” he grumbled.

Neither of you would last long.

You were begging under your breath. You needed it, you needed him. “Fuck, Miguel, please.”

“I know, I got you,” he groaned, pounding into you. “Let go, cum for me.”

You moaned.

With his fingers, his pace, and your already stimulated body, you came. You gushed around his cock, and slumped heavily into the bed. As your walls clamped down again, Miguel hissed as he spilled himself inside of you. He continued to gently rocked his hips as you both came back down to reality.

The air buzzed with the aftermath.

Your grip on the sheets loosened. You turned your head, glancing back at him: his chest covered in new bruises, his sweat covered forehead, and his fangs and talons were still out. You shivered at the sight. His eyes flickered over, connecting with yours. He gave you a tired smile. He bent down and kissed the spot between your shoulder blades.

You hummed softly.

Miguel rolled onto the bed. His arms wrapped around your waist as flushed your back to his chest. His now softened cock still buried inside.

“Better?” He murmured into your ear.

You nodded.

“Good,” he sighed. “Just … just stay like this with me, please.”

To be fair, you had no energy to argue or care. A day of exhaustion finally caught up to you. You relaxed into his embrace, enjoying the comfort as well as the fullness of him still inside of you. You placed a hand over top of his and intertwined your fingers with his. You squeezed his hand.

“Thank you,” you muttered.

He kissed your shoulder. “You’re welcome. Now rest, cariño, I got you.”

I always will, he thought as you drifted off in his arms completely satisfied.

#across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x afab!reader #miguel x reader #miguel x afab!reader #afab!reader #smut

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dreamgrlarchive · 11 months

Text

High Maintenance 101

Prissy Girl Beauty Regimens 🎀

my prissy girl guide to beauty services and building a beauty lifestyle that fits you 💗

Skincare:

Essential Skincare Routine ❤︎︎

twice daily, in the morning and at night

daytime: gentle cleanser, toner, serum, eye cream, moisturizer, SPF

prep and protect skin

nighttime: double cleansing with oil and cleanser, exfoliation, treatments, moisturizer

wash away the day and help skin accept treatments and actives during your beauty sleep

products will change depending on skin type and goals, but sequence will more or less stay the same

Face Masks + Treatments ❤︎︎

Face Masks -

typically done at home 1-3x/week

clay, gel, mud, cream, liquid

my fav masks at home:

aha + bha liquid mask by the ordinary: a literal overhaul of my pores. it’s refining and helps reduce texture and hyperpigmentation. 1-2 x/week

korean modeling mask: i use this after doing everything in my routine. it’s super cooling and smooths my skin out. the low temp of the mask reduces flushing of my skin and helps the steps in my routine absorb better. 2-3 x/week

Treatments -

done either 1-3x/week and/or exclusively at night

consumer grade Retinols, AHAs, BHAs at high strength

little extra things i like to use to enhance my routine:

gua sha, ice pack, rose quartz roller, however often i choose

Facials ❤︎︎

done every 1-2 months by licensed estheticians

often includes exfoliation and extraction

Classic Facial: cleanse, extract, massage, moisturize

HydraFacials: extracts pores while infusing serums to boost skin’s vitamin and nutrient content

dry, dehydrated skin

Microdermabrasion: microabrasive tool removes outermost, textured, damaged layer of skin using suction to reveal a smooth and refined new layer of skin

sun damaged, aged, textured skin or skin with hyperpigmentation

Chemical Peel: application of medical grade AHA, BHA, Lactic Acid, Fruit Enzymes, or Retinol to peel away top layers of skin over the course of 1-2 weeks

pore refining, brightening, and anti-aging

after care is crucial. skin will be peeling and sensitivity to sun is increased. SPF MUST be used. it’s heavily advised that clients stay home for the first few days.

HydroJelly Facial: facial made of electrolytes, algae, organic white grain oat flour, rice flour, and white willow bark powder. leaving your skin hydrated, plump, and nourished. forms a vacuum-like seal that compresses facial contours.

there are 25 different hydrojelly pro masks for most skin concerns you may have, check here

More Facials ❤︎︎

Contouring Facial: sculpting, tightening, and lifting of facial muscles

LED Facial: uses LED light to soothe inflammation, aiding in acne healing and prevention

Vampire Facial: plumps skin and improves wrinkles by extracting blood, removing its platelets, then either re-injecting it into the skin or applying it topically

Diamond File Facial: finely ground diamonds resurface skin by filing to improve dark spots

Glass Skin Botox: multiple tiny botox injections just below the surface of the skin. alleviate fine lines, redness, texture, and more achieving glass skin

AquaGold Facial: microinjections that combine vampire facial methods, hyaluronic acid, botox, stem cells, antioxidants, vitamins, peptides, etc. improves fine lines, wrinkles, pores, pigmentation, acne scarring, dryness, tone, texture, skin elasticity, and more

cite

Hair:

Hair Care ❤︎︎

Wash Routines:

curly textured: wash and condition every 2-3 weeks, deep condition every 1-2 weeks

straight: wash and condition every 2-3 days, deep condition every 2-3 weeks

Styling ︎❤︎︎

Hair should have a style everyday! At home hairstyling is limitless and really depends on your taste and lifestyle. The everyday woman does her own her once every 1-4 weeks using natural hair products, heat, or other tools.

Professional Stylists:

hair is styled every 1-3 months: uses heat to straighten or curl, extensions to lengthen and add volume, shears to maintain/attain a shape and length

trim ends: every 6-8 weeks

hair color: touched up roughly every 6-8 weeks (depending on how fast your hair is growing and how fast your color will fade)

Silk Press:

after a clarifying wash and deep conditioning, natural hair is straightened using flat iron and/or pressing comb, then usually curled in feathers or pin curls to preserve the style

lasts 3-4 weeks depending on maintenance

preserved by wrapping hair at night, keep hands out of hair, and using a wide toothed comb only

can be further styled with different kind of rollers, or with pin curls

Braids:

afrocentric hairstyles typically done to protect hair while maintaining beauty

lasts 3-8 weeks

styles include knotless braids, faux locs, stitch braids, french braids, etc

Extensions:

hair added to natural hair to enhance length or volume

can be done at home with patience and proper materials

sew-in extensions: (my personal fav) 1-2 months

your natural hair gets braided down flush to your scalp and the bundles are sewn on by the wefts in a flat pattern typically with a section of hair left out to cover the wefts $100-600

microlinks: up to 4 months

i-tip extension is added to hair using micropliers, clippers and loop tool. takes far longer than most extension methods but looks the absolute most natural $500-1000

tape-in extensions: up to a year, touch ups every 4-6 weeks

medical grade tape is used to attach extensions to small sections of hair $200-400

clip-in extensions: 3-6 months

extensions are clipped on by the wefts. the hair itself can last up to six months, but it’s not recommended to sleep, shower, or swim with the extensions in $50-100

Natural Styles:

all last roughly 1-2 weeks at most. allowing hair to completely DRY is crucial for these styles. your natural hair can be further changed in styles like buns, puffs, etc once dry

natural hair essentials: scalp oil, leave in conditioner, detangling brush, wide tooth comb, curling cream, styling gel, edge control and edge brush

wash n’ go

wash and detangle, then use leave in conditioner to keep hair moist. oil on the scalp and ends is recommended for growth and healthy ends

bantu knots

a traditionally african style where the hair is cleanly sectioned (usually parted in a cute pattern) and twisted into knots. style can be worn just like this or taken down for curls

braid/twist out

a specific pattern of curls is achieved after hair is twisted or braided with curl preserving products. end result depends on how big your twists or braids are

roller set

hair is sprayed with water and curl cream applied before roller of your choice is added. hair is left to dry usually overnight for springy well formed curls

Brows and Lashes:

Brow Shaping ❤︎︎

in salon or at home

Waxing - every 3 weeks

Threading- every 2-3 weeks

Razor Shaping - weekly

Brow Enhancement ❤︎︎

Tinting - monthly

can be done at home or by pro in the salon

Microblading - every 1-3 years + annual touch ups, exclusively professional work

cosmetic tattooing using a manual tool with nearly invisible hair-like needles to inject pigment in brows to create your desired brow look

Lash Enhancements ❤︎︎

*done exclusively by professionals

Lifts - every 6 weeks

basically a perm for your lashes to curl them semi-permanently for lashes to appear longer

Lash Extensions - new set every 6-8 weeks, fill ins every 2-3 weeks depending on quality and style

false individual strands of lashes glued to natural lashes to create semi-permanent length and/or volume

lash baths: wet lashes and apply a small amount of gentle cleanser or a “lash bath” to lashes. cleanse lashes and eyelids for about 10 seconds. hold a towel under your eye and use a nozzle bottle to flush soap and bacteria from lashes then dry with a disposable lint free towel. finish by brushing your lashes with a spoolie. daily.

Lash Styles:

Classic: one lash on each fan, thin lashes

Volume: fluffier lashes with more lashes on each fan

Hybrid: uses classic and volume lashes to make an alternated look

Russian: volume lashes made with very thin individuals, 5-6 extensions per natural lash, fanned out look

DIY Lash Extensions - lasts about a week (sometimes longer)

lash fragments or individual wisps are glued either under the lashes or on the lash line. KISS Falscara is a product that makes this concept simple and easy

Nails:

all these services can be done at home with the proper materials and KNOWLEDGE

Classic Manicure ❤︎︎

every 1-2 weeks

nail service that consists of soaking hands in warm soapy water then drying them. nails are trimmed, filed, and buffed. cuticles are pushed back before applying nail polish (base coat, color, top coat), then finally cuticle oil is applied.

nails can be enhanced with rhinestones, glitter, or charms and attached with uv gel or nail glue

my fav styles are pink, cream, white, black and any french tip using those colors

Pedicure ❤︎︎

every 2-4 weeks

sister to the classic manicure, but can be upgraded depending on materials. steps are similar to manicure, except feet are scrubbed and exfoliated before feet are washed and dried to apply nail color

regular polish, acrylic, or gel can be used on toenails

Gel or Shellac Mani ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

same process as the classic manicure, but traditional nail polish is replaced with uv base coat, gel or CND Shellac polish, then uv top coat that’s cured in a UV or LED lamp

longer lasting and more strong/3d than classic mani and is typically removed by soaking in acetone

Apres Gel-X Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

my personal fav at home nails using the artme yoko matsuda nails. after doing a classic mani sans polish, you apply a dehydrator and primer to prep nail for gel. then you apply builder gel to your natural nail and cure. then you apply that same builder to the nail extension after etching it using an electric drill or acetone. marry the gel to your nail and cure. then just shape to your liking and top with uv top coat. tutorial here

Acrylic Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks, nails are fully grown out after 6 weeks

manicure done with liquid monomer and acrylic powder to build and extend natural nail, then polished with color or just a top coat if desired

Russian Mani ❤︎︎

every 4-5 weeks

essentially a gel manicure, but more invasive. the eponychium is snipped away so polish can be applied more closely and flush to the cuticle. this aids in visuals and longevity

service is seen as risky because the skin is more susceptible to fungal or bacterial infection. this is actually how i do my nails at home.

Body:

Bathing ❤︎︎

2x daily

self explanatory, we all know how to bathe. i have other posts that talk about my shower and bath routines.

use a gentle cleanser then a scented body wash to complement perfume and smell fresh all day.

if needed, you can use body soaps with actives like aha, bha or retinol to exfoliate or treat skin at night

exfoliation - 2-3x/week. using scrubs, loofahs, bath brushes, etc.

Hair Removal ❤︎︎

shaving - 2-3x/week

waxing - every 3-5 weeks

sugaring - monthly

ipl device - a device that uses light therapy to slowly destroy hair follicles and unwanted pigment in skin. i use mine after every 5-6 shaves but i could really use it more often.

Vajacial ❤︎︎

1-2x/month

a “facial” for your lady area

the esthetician will first wax, then cleanse and apply an enzyme exfoliant. then they extract any blackheads or ingrown hairs from the area before applying a soothing mask usually in the jelly form.

Moisture and Hydration ❤︎︎

body cream or lotion - daily right after bathing to hydrate skin

body oil - daily to seal in moisture and protect skin from debris and dryness

masks - weekly to address particular skin concerns

ex. when i was having eczema flare ups on my back, i used a dead sea mud mask every 1-2 weeks to help treat it

done at home or at spa

glycolic, clay, mud, salicylic, etc.

Enhancement Procedures:

the goal is to look younger and balance facial features. all these services are exclusively done by professionals usually in a medspa and are widely considered luxury.

Botox ❤︎︎

every 6-8 months; between brows, smile lines, outer corners of eyes, etc

discourages muscle movement to reduce wrinkles

Lifts ❤︎︎

lasts about 10 years; face, neck, brow, eyelids

skin is lifted to desired look, then excess skin is removed

Fillers ︎❤︎︎

every 6-12 months; under-eye, lips, jawline, wrinkle sites, cheekbones

injects acids (usually naturally occurring) like Hyaluronic Acid and Calcium Hydroxylapatite to add volume to your face

Body Contouring ❤︎︎

every 2-4 months until desired results are achieved

non invasive liposuction to achieve desired physique

CoolSculpting - cryolipolysis freezes fat cells for the body to the metabolize and and remove them

SculpSure - essentially the same as CoolSculpting, but uses heat and laser technology to destroy fat cells

Laser Hair Removal ❤︎︎

every 5-6 weeks; bikini, underarms, legs, arms

touch ups done every 1-2 years

hair growth is inhibited by exposing follicles to light at frequencies that kill them

Building the Regimen 🗒️💕:

when making appointments with your “glam squad” you can stagger your services by week depending on what’s being done. for example you can get your mani and pedi done one week. then your facials, brows and lashes another week.

Things to Keep in Mind 💭💞:

these frequencies won’t be the same for everyone depending on personal wants, budgets, etc. but will most likely land somewhere in the ranges i gave. if you need touch ups or redos any sooner than i mapped out, then the service most likely was of poor quality.

anything done at home may or may not be up to the level of detail and longevity as salon or spa work. if you see yourself doing the majority of your beauty maintenance at home, this can save money but may end up taking more time than professional services. so it’s a give and take.

More Resources:

manage your routines, services and products using a beauty binder

a look at my skincare routine

at home beauty treatments for the summer

my hair care routine at home

pretty on purpose by @shefromhouston

monthly beauty routine by @angeljpg

dream girl routines by me

#the prissy girl agenda #dream girl journey #prissy lifestyle tips 💕🎀#dream girl routines #masterpost #my posts #skincare

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hellishgayliath · 1 year

Photo

this has been in my files for quite a while yeesh

I’m a big fan of both Rottmnt and Pokemon as you can obviously tell lol

So I thought it’d be cool to envision the Squirtle line in the rottmnt art style.

Squirtle’s look is solely based on his Squirtle Squad getup in the anime y’know, headband, shades, etc. I made his skin markings resemble water droplets/bubbles. Squirtle’s and Wartortle’s shell marks are just the hexagonal shapes that come from their original shell.

Wartortle’s look comes a lot from his canon personality, which he’s a bit of a ruffian. They’re known to get into fights and fisticuffs a bit and can be very aggressive, that’s why they have so many scratches and bandages and even chips in their plastron. Their skin markings come from what Wartortle is originally based on which is the minogame, a mythological turtle with seaweed and algae resembling a tail and it’s longevity. Wartortle is actually my favourite of the Squirtle line becuz I for one love the poofy/wispy ear and tail combo.

Blastoise is mainly based on his gigantamax form, cuz I needed alil bit more something to work with. Hence the white triangular markings, the turquoise eyes, the stickers that come from the gigantamax lighting. I did attempt to give him ears, but I didn’t like the way they looked so I tried to make it show with the mask instead (and his triangle marks).

So uh yeah thanks for tuning in to my fangeek time <3

#rottmnt #pokemon #crossover #squirtle #wartortle #blastoise #my art #this was really fun to do and i'm really proud of it #i probably wont do any other turtle like pokemon tho cuz i just wanted to focus on this lineup

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nefarrilou · 2 months

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Cryptid: Ancient Watcher 💦 Hidden World: Forgotten Grotto

Starting a series of Hidden World NPC's! ... combining some with ts4 lore inspired cryptids for @gloomiegalaxie-sims!

-ˋˏ✄ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊱💧⊰ ━━━━━━━━━ 「 cc ↓ 」 ━━

Genetics Skintone • Skintints • Hair • Mask + Shadow • Claws • Fins • Gills • Scales 1 + 2 + 3 • Tail + Top Clothes Dress Accessories Face Jewlery • Butterflies • Algae • Roots • Face Shadows • Dirt

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

C R E A T O R S

Genetics @lamatisse @crilender @funako @D^D @remussims @sewersims @jarisimcc @froknereez @weepingsimmer @lady-moriel @dansimsfantasy Clothes @mably Accessories @regina-raven @genius666 @plazasims @lady-moriel @adrasteamoon @joshseoh

#cascryptids #sims 4 mermaid #sims 4 cas challenge #globetrotter inspiration #sims 4 cc #ts4 occult #the sims 4 #hidden worlds #forgotten grotto #sims 4 lookbook

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jessamine-rose · 1 year

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‧̍̊˚ᵕ⋆Part of Your World⋆ᵕ˚‧̍̊

After two months and several “Part of Your World” loops, my Yandere Mermaid AU has been written!! I hope you all enjoy these tragic fairytales featuring Capitano, Pantalone, Dottore, and Pierro ϵ( 'Θ' )϶

Tw:: yandere, violence, death, kidnapping

♡ 2.5k words under the cut ♡

Shark! Capitano x Coral Reef Fish! Mermaid

♡ Humans and mermaids alike are afraid of Capitano due to the misconceptions about sharks. It doesn’t help that he is considered intimidating even by his own species—a masked hunter who reigns victorious over every feeding frenzy, adorned with scars from his deceased opponents.

♡ In contrast to his fearsome reputation, he is actually one of the calmer creatures of the sea. He mainly keeps to himself and avoids unnecessary violence, confident in his ability to survive alone. So it comes as a surprise when Capitano swims into your coral reef and scares away the mermaids who were bullying you.

♡ He understands your initial fear of him. You are quite the little mermaid, a weaker species of coral reef fish, though your scarred tail is proof of your capacity to defy natural selection. And you achieve another victory as Capitano gently asks if you are all right.

♡ Your quiet “Thank you” results in more encounters. He soon becomes your attentive companion, leading to more peace in your coral reef. The two of you regularly admire the sea anemone and swim together, the distance between you disappearing in no time.

♡ You’ve watched Capitano hunt on a few occasions; and while his strength is terrifying, the spectacle reminds you that he can keep you safe from other species. (Come to think of it, what happened to your bullies?) Likewise, he accepts the algae and small animals you’ve hunted from tiny crevices, affectionately calling you his little hunter.

♡ You even visit his home! His cavern is located in the deep sea, with less sunlight and more aggressive mermaids who mistake you for Capitano’s meal. Don’t worry, he is quick to scare them away and escort you to his safe territory. Look, he has a pretty collection of sea anemone which he knows you’d love.

♡ It’s strange, really. To Capitano, you are no worthy competitor nor a species with symbiotic relations to shark mermaids. So why do you bewitch him? Why does he feel the urge to protect you? Why are his instincts telling him to bite you, not as a prey but as a mate?

♡ He tries to repress those urges. He really does—it would be an offense to your own resilience. How fitting, then, that his boiling point is triggered by the worst predator known to your kind, a group of humans who catch you in a net and drag you up to their boat.

♡ Needless to say, a rare mermaid attack is reported that day. In the wake of the carnage, all you can do is tearfully hug Capitano and thank him for saving you. But the bloodshed does little to calm him. His little mermaid was almost stolen from him. How many more predators are eager to harm you?

♡ It’s too late for you. Before you can swim out of his grasp, Capitano holds you more tightly and makes his decision. The world is merciless to the weak, so you are to stay by his side from now on. It is his only way to ensure your safety.

♡ Well, look on the bright side. With Capitano as your provider, you are never alone in the sea—not that you could leave his territory without him, given his predatory neighbors. He still allows you to swim freely so long as he is there to protect you, and who can forget the many sea anemones he brings home for you?

♡ You can only pray that you survive your new role as his mate. Capitano may be willing to accommodate your softer flesh and courtship rituals, but the difference in strength is apparent. If he isn’t careful, his bites could become fatal…not that he would ever harm his beloved.

Jellyfish! Pantalone x Exotic Pet! Mermaid

♡ Pantalone is regarded as the jewel of the sea. Everything about him is perfect, from his graceful demeanor to his ethereal jellyfish features. Beneath that languid veneer, he is quite skilled in navigating the dangers of the deep sea and preying on unsuspecting creatures.

♡ When a ship capsizes in the midst of a storm, he takes advantage of the situation. He kills stings several humans, collects their valuables, and comes across a new treasure. A pretty mermaid trapped in a large aquarium, gazing at him with wide-eyed wonder.

♡ He easily deduces your identity. You are a rare mermaid raised by humans, a pampered pet who doesn’t know how to survive in the wild. And you have nowhere to go, seeing how your owners have either drowned or abandoned you.

♡ In that case, why don’t you stay with Pantalone? He must be a reliable mermaid if he’s willing to set you free and welcome you into his territory! His cavern is larger than your old aquariums, furnished with a gorgeous collection of pearls, human trinkets, and other treasures. And you fit right in with your shimmery scales and bright smiles.

♡ It takes a while for you to adapt to the wild. Outgrowing your expensive meals is easier said than done, much less learning how to hunt. You’re also a slow swimmer due to being raised in captivity, but Pantalone is patient enough to wait for you. He is a warm presence, always watching over you and educating you in How to be a Mermaid.

♡ He is also incredibly beautiful, which is high praise from an exotic pet. How can you not approach him when he illuminates the dark with his bioluminescent features? How can you not accept his offer to share body heat on cold nights, tails intertwined? How can you not applaud his underwater dances, unaware that it is a courtship ritual?

♡ You’re really lucky to have met him, you know? That is what Pantalone says whenever he stops you from meeting other mermaids and leaving his territory unsupervised. Had you met another sea creature, you would’ve quickly succumbed to the natural order of the world. You’re so naive and helpless, but he is willing to put up with it.

♡ Furthermore, something must be done about your view of humans. Despite the truth to his horror stories, it’s still common for Pantalone to pull you away from the surface and scuba divers. How many times has he warned you against showing yourself to humans? Don’t you know that the creatures who imprisoned you are just as likely to turn you into sashimi?

♡ Your shared life is perfect. So why are you suddenly saying goodbye to him? Pantalone can only stay silent when you tell him that you’d like to find your natural habitat. Your species isn’t meant for the deep sea and you feel guilty for freeloading. At the end of your speech, you leave the cavern to give him some space.

♡ That was your plan until Pantalone reaches out and stings you with his tentacles. He is incredibly apologetic about it, checking your wounds with cold hands and a calm smile. Oh dear, he’s so sorry. It seems that he let his emotions get the best of him. Why don’t you come back inside, darling? In your current condition, you would be easy prey.

♡ You listen to him. Eventually, you agree with Pantalone that you’d made an unconscionable decision. How could you possibly survive in the wild without him? Why put yourself in danger when you already have a perfect mate to care for you? You’re already home.

Octopus! Dottore x Marine Biologist! Human

♡ Octopus mermaids are perceived as intelligent troublemakers, and Dottore lives up to that reputation. His curiosity of the human world has caused many near-sightings, human deaths, and criticism from his peers but who is he to shy away from forbidden knowledge?

♡ It is during one research expedition that he meets a like-minded scientist. You are diving solo when Dottore reveals himself, and you react with genuine excitement. Not conventional fear, greed, or cruelty but pure fascination towards a foreign creature—a sentiment which he reciprocates.

♡ He is cautious, of course, but you remain undeterred by his bared fangs and clouds of ink. You carefully approach him and communicate with hand signals, to which Dottore surprises you with a few human words learned from previous research.

♡ An unlikely friendship is formed. Over time, you and Dottore secretly meet in the same area to share information and learn about each other. The language barrier remains an issue but you soon gain a rudimentary understanding of his speech patterns.

♡ While most humans equate octopi to sea monsters, you are clever enough to discover the truth on your own. You politely study Dottore’s mermaid biology, marveling over his grip strength and the suction marks he leaves on your skin. Likewise, you allow him to poke your legs and squeeze you with his tentacles. Half the time, the latter is an involuntary action which he tries to deny.

♡ One day, he follows you to the surface! Dottore has visited the surface before but it’s different when you are part of the view. Above water, you can remove your diving mask and speak to him clearly. An important observation is made: You have an attractive face. He’d like to see your expressions more often.

♡ Unfortunately, the moment is interrupted by an approaching boat. Quickly, you push him underwater and speak with the sailors. Thankfully, they don’t notice your companion and offer you a ride back to shore. You comply, unaware that Dottore is still watching you.

♡ What an unwelcome intrusion, he thinks bitterly. Despite your sociobiological boundaries, he can’t deny his fondness for you. The involuntary hugs from his tentacles, this odd feeling in all three of his hearts…could it be? Is such an attraction pursuable?

♡ Well, Dottore hasn’t been accused of witchcraft for nothing. In your following visits, he is more rigid in his research. He collects more human data, takes a few DNA samples from you, and acts clingy during your departures. You brush it off as an ordinary change in mood; it’s not like you could ask about it, anyway.

♡ One day, he guides you to the deep sea for some local mermaid games. You’re having so much fun that it comes as a total shock when Dottore forcibly removes your diving mask. For a few minutes, he restrains you with his tentacles and watches your distress with a cold, calculative expression. A deep kiss follows, flooding your throat with a bitter sedative.

♡ You know something is wrong as soon as you wake up. Dottore is looming over you with a frightening grin and when he speaks, you can understand him? That is when you notice the gills on your neck, the scales littering your skin, the mermaid tail in place of your legs.

♡ Aren’t you impressed? It took him ages to create a permanent transformation potion, and he even accommodated your favorite marine species! Now he can see your lovely face all the time and show you parts of the sea which no human can explore. Worry not, Dottore will guide you through your adjustment. The two of you will be closer than ever.

Orca! Pierro x Rescuer! Human

♡ Orca mermaids are no stranger to animal cruelty. Pierro can attest to that, having lost his habitat and escaped captivity. So when he washes up on shore, too weak and dispirited to resist the currents, he thinks it is the end for him.

♡ Only to be proven wrong by a compassionate human who lives near the sea. Before anyone can see him, you bring the beached mermaid home and put him in your bathtub. You add some foam pillows, treat his wounds, and wait for him to wake up.

♡ Pierro is naturally distrustful at first but there’s only so much he can do inside a bathtub. Apart from your concern, you are naturally curious about him and surprised by his fluency in human languages, an ability exclusive to his species.

♡ For a human, you’re oddly empathetic. Recognizing the social needs of orca mermaids, you spend hours in your bathroom to chat with your new companion. You introduce him to human culture by providing personal stories and warm meals which taste a thousand times better than the stale fish fed to captive animals.

♡ As the weeks pass, Pierro grows to trust you. You treat him like a companion, not a beast or pet, and go the extra mile to keep him comfortable. While he is embarrassed to sit in an inflatable kiddie pool, he’s willing to set aside his pride for more interactions in your home.

♡ Once his wounds have healed, you bring him to shore and set him free. In the dead of the night, you have enough time to properly say your goodbyes and wish Pierro a safe future. He thanks you one last time and disappears below the surface, leaving you to resume your ordinary life.

♡ Months later, you are roaming your neighborhood when you bump into a familiar person. It’s Pierro, appearing distinctly human with his two legs and fancy suit. After the initial shock wears off, he explains that he took a transformation potion to visit you. The effect wears off in three days; until then, would you be so kind as to give him a tour of your world?

♡ You eagerly accept. In his human form, Pierro can properly explore your house and natural habitat. The two of you go on several outings, eat your meals at your dining table, and share your bed. He regards your bathtub and kiddie pool with endeared nostalgia.

♡ On the third day, you cook a special farewell feast and invite Pierro to visit another time. He thanks you again, for both your hospitality and your previous act of compassion, but makes one clarification: Who said that he is saying goodbye?

♡ You aren’t given a warning before Pierro physically overpowers you and twists your leg. Calmly, he carries you to bed and soothes your pained cries. Walking is quite inconvenient, isn’t it? All it takes is a single injury, a shift in balance or gravity, for a human to be incapacitated.

♡ Well, Dottore’s the Sea Witch’s potion was worth it. He still has a few days before the effect wears off, enough time to decide on what to do with you. You see, darling, you’re too precious to him. How can he search for a new home when he has already found one in you?

♡ Now he just needs to decide whether he’ll remain a human or drag you to the deep sea and permanently turn you into a mermaid. It’s a difficult choice, seeing how either of you must make a sacrifice. But one thing is certain: Wherever you go, land or sea, he will be a part of your world.

♡

Read the sequel + more mermaid lore ʚʘ͜͡))❨

Fufufu which Harbinger’s story was your favorite?? The mermaid brainrot and nostalgia was very strong in this one. If the couples seem familiar, that’s cuz I incorporated the characters and darlings from my Yandere! Harbinger longfic series~

A big thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this and putting up with more of my nonsense. And to the fishfuckers, I know you exist. I hope you are happy u_u

Tag a Harbinger enjoyer!! @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @nicebonescomrades @harmonysanreads @ansy-tea @leftdestiny-posts @thescribeoflostmemories @kocherry @gum-iie @oofasleep @crypticbibliophile @yanmaresu @frogchiro @lcveaesop @shumidehiro @mirdance @surveyycorps @theinnerunderrain @teabutmakeitazure

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linddzz · 5 months

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In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon

Last week or so I made too many posts about what if Hob, still immortal, trying out occultism but kinda crap at it (which is some bullshit considering that Death is his drinking buddy), first meets Dream as the devil in the basement of The Magus Burgess. I called it "the shit-wizard Hob AU"

I still don't know if I'll finish it. But I couldn't stop it from starting.

No editing no betas we post on Tumblr like idiots.

EDIT: very mild editing still no betas we still stupid

********

In August of 1923, Hob Gadling - currently Rob Gedlen- is introduced to a demon.

It is, he has to admit, rather impressive. Or at least, the bonds keeping it tamed are. The prison space is everything a magus cellar should be. All arched, ancient stone and dim lighting that only barely illuminates the painted ceiling. Shadows so deep that even the electric bulbs only give the dark textures of colour. Green algae, the saturated grays and browns of rock, the faded blue and gold of the artificial night sky.

The oily glint of black iron chains. The sweeping ooze of the light over the curved iron scaffolding the chains held up, and the dizzying reflection off of the glass orb held within the iron like a gem clasped in dragon claws suspended over a small, mirror flat moat and an intricate golden circle.

Very impressive. Forboding even. The sort of thing a magus should have in his cellar.

The man inside of it looks for all the world like an ordinary naked man. Right number of limbs, hair and skin natural colors, everything in place where it should be. That's if one ignored the fact that he was sitting calm and clean in a fully airtight sphere of glass. Ordinary, if you were a dimwit and took human shape as a sign of humanity.

“This,” Burgess says with a wicked, bitter sort of pride, “is the Order’s secret of success.”

Hob whistles, because he thinks he should show some sort of appreciation. He's been working for Burgess for a few years now after all, and knows when to look suitably impressed. It is impressive, so he doesn't need to play it up too much when he follows Burgess past the wrought iron gate.

The man in the glass looks less like a mystical secret and more like he needs a coat. He's even sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, delicate ankles crossed in front of him, arms loosely draped forward and black haired head bowed down as if in deep thought.

With his nakedness, the curled position would look painfully vulnerable, were it not for the overwhelming sense that he's waiting.

“He's a demon of dreams. Or close enough to a demon.” Burgess explains. His cane tapping on the stone is the only other sound in that strange space. “I was attempting to summon Death itself, and failed at my task. But I did not come away empty handed.”

Yeah, that's probably for the best. If Hob had sauntered down here and seen Her displayed in a glass cage like a bauble, he would have done something stupid and violent. Best case scenario; She would just laugh at him for overreacting. Worst case; She'd do it with that sad little twist to Her mouth.

The entity Burgess did nab seems miniscule compared to the apparatus around him, to the manor towering over their heads. Yet even Hob and his absolute shit senses for magic can feel how everything is circling the center point of the man. They're all little marbles, orbiting the sphere and the mass within it.

“An incubus?” Hob asks, walking around the perimeter of the moat. His tone is mild, curious, intrigued. It's a talent of his to not exactly lie, but to use some of his feelings to mask others.

It’s a horrible thing, to take the freedom of another for your own benefit.

Her voice echoes in his head. That moment is never far from his head. The sad sweetness of her voice turned sour. The hard disappointment in her dark eyes. He will never forget the horrid, sickening twist of guilt of that meeting, and he feels it when he looks at the demon in the magus’ cellar.

The lights reflect oddly in the sphere, making it seem as if the man himself were the source of illumination. His skin is the sort of gleaming white that poets would froth over. Hob isn't a poet, but even he can tell that “white” hardly does it justice. The alabaster statues a floor above are going to appear dull and crude now when compared to the snow-under-moonlight of the man down here. The shadows of him are blue, violet, deepest velvet black.

Maybe not snow under moonlight, Hob thinks, reminded of the multi-hued winter twilight.

Now that he's closer, Hob can make out the sharply sculpted features of him. His curled body is a lean, hungry twist of muscle that reminds one less of actual flesh than of a tangled metal chord. His cheekbones are sharp and high, his eyes cast down with a sweep of raven wing lashes. The only hints of life are the faint flushes of seashell pink at his ears, his fingers, the still and plush lips.

“If you like.” Burgess says, which means the man isn't an incubus and Burgess thinks he's fucking clever again. The magus is watching Hob now, who is examining the circle, the iron chains, anything that will keep him from thinking too much about the thin form trapped within it.

“I attempted first to gain favors from it.” Burgess continues when Hob says nothing. “But it is stubbornly silent. No matter.”

Burgess has stepped past the moat, past the circle, to stand with his nose nearly touching the round glass wall. Hob stays outside of the barriers, but he is close enough that he can see the hate that always sits beneath his boss’ manners.

“No matter.” Burgess repeats, sneering at his captive. “Found a use for you anyway, didn't I? Just its presence brings power to this place. It amplifies the magic here, makes the spells wrought near it more solid.”

“Not much hope for me then, if I'm already by some magic booster.” Hob grins, and his boss chuckles almost fondly. It had been a whim that had Hob joining the Order. He’d never tried being a magician before, though he had gone to a few seances when they were at their peak. Occultism wasn't too fashionable anymore, so Hob thought it was best to try it out now before it got truly passe.

He's glad he's only been at it for a few years, because he's crap at it. All the costumes and chanting and intricate rituals seem silly, even when he's seen the true results of it. It was just a bunch of nonsense cobbled together from bad translations and old frauds that everyone knew were frauds back in the day! But if you followed the stupid made up rubbish perfectly, sometimes it would result in some actual magic.

That's one of the stupid things about magic. If all you can think about while doing a spell is that you must look like an utter berk, it won't work.

“We all have our talents, Mr. Gedlen.” Burgess says mildly, indulgently. “It's why I have brought you here, actually. You may not have the Gift,” he always referred to magic like that, you could hear the self important capitalized letters in it, “but you’re measured. Resilient. Notably unshakable.

Hob supposed that was true enough. Being in a house with a bunch of wizardy twats who were too busy going mad while practicing the perfect runes took a level head. Someone needed to have enough of a practical mindset to smother out all the fires that tended to happen, even if those fires had colors that gave you a headache.

“I've tried other magicians, promising acolytes, ruffian's from the street.” Burgess continues, sighing with remembered disappointment and gazing hard at the unmoving demon. “They would lose their nerve, complain of nightmares, or they would be too dimwitted to know the sorts of things to report on.”

Hob moves again, still keeping to the edges of the moat, until he is looking at Burgess’ back and into the lowered face of the demon. “You want me to be a guard?” He asks, voice mild because he isn't sure how he feels about that.

“An observer.” Burgess corrects. “You're sharp, though I've noticed that you try not to show it. You don't have a talent for magic, but you're quick to catch onto the supernatural.”

Hob should hope so, all things considered.

“I want you to take one of the guard shifts, yes. But I want to see what you observe compared to the thicker minds my son has hired. I want you to tell me when it moves, how it moved, if the light seemed different, if you felt tired despite the forced march pills you will be required to take. Any sign that it might be trying to wear away at the binds that hold it.

Do not be fooled by it's stillness or fair looks.” Burgess taps his cane on the sphere, making it ring like a perfect crystal. “This is a demon. If it ever breaks free, it will destroy all of us without a thought.”

The demon lifts its head then, and Hob wonders if his heart finally stops. The movement is slow, strange and dragged, a statue that can only mimic how a living thing would move. The raven wing lashes fly up. The demons eyes are shadowed. Far more deeply shadowed than they should be for the amount of light shining off his skin.

Within those shadows, the place where his eyes must be draw all the light in, refine it, refract it back in the distant twinkling of two dim, hateful, cold stars.

“Yeah. I don't doubt that.” Hob says quietly, and the demons eyes blaze in its beautiful, dead face.

#dreamling #new orb rescue mission au dropped #shit wizard hob #my fic

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nellycanwrite · 1 year

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An Order

Part 2 of “A Request” || Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader

Summary: Your kingdom was at stake. Your thoughts are conflicted, your duties now weigh heavily on your shoulders, and the expectations of being K’uk’ulkan’s daughter puts you at risk as you try to talk with Princess Shuri of Wakanda. But you never had to worry—not when your lover, Attuma, was by your side to give you counsel.

Or, in which Attuma would soon realize that his own counsel would put you in jeopardy—bloodied and near death in his arms as you gave him your first order as princess.

Rating: 16+ || Viewer Discretion is Advised.

Word Count: 11.4K

Warnings: A very very angry Attuma and Namor. Heavy angst (oomph). Mentions of violence and near death experiences. Some bits are suggestive if you squint hard enough. Allusions of death. And if it’s any kind of consolation then tooth-rotting fluff too.

Note: It is worthy to note that I have not included any deep Yucatec Maya phrases (besides the terms of endearment) despite the Talokanil speaking in their native tongue as respect to their language. Therefore their mother tongue shall be labeled with italics.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

As the daughter of the feathered serpent god, king of the great nation of Talokan, there were many things expected of you; the wisdom to rule with both mercy and hardened fists, the knowledge and wit that could challenge that of a merchant to negotiate terms to benefit your kingdom, and the grace befitting that of both nobility and divinity.

Of course, you were also expected to be as strong as your father. So strong, in fact, that they had compared the ire of the king to a great catastrophe that equaled the eruptions from the Pacific Ring of Fire.

It was impossible for you to achieve such a level of skill.

But that is why you train.

“Your attacks are still weak, in yakunaj.” My love, he said with an amused smirk. Even with a mask did he extrude such sly confidence that made you weak to your knees.

Attuma made a show of twisting his spear, droplets of sea water splashing across the walls that glowed with luminescent algae. You huffed and poised yourself to attack, your own vibranium spear pointed towards him in warning.

“You forget yourself, Attuma.” With the speed comparable to that of a great missile, you launched yourself forward with a beat of your feathered ankles. You heard him grunt when he put his spear up in defense, the clashing of vibranium creating an unpleasant screech as it collided with each other.

Despite you pushing against his weapon with your enhanced strength, Attuma far overwhelmed you with raw power. He slowly pushed you away and dove down to miss your incoming swing, taking your hips and slamming you into the ground. You felt the air escape from your lungs at the force, the grip of your weapon now long gone and away from your hands.

Attuma took your wrists in his large hand and pinned you against the floor, his masked lips dangerously close to yours. You used this time to catch your breath, your eyes boring into his own.

“Do you yield?” He asked. The blade of his spear had now lodged itself beside your head. You gave him an amused chuckle.

“Never.”

With a beat of your winged ankles, you tucked your knees in and kicked his stomach until he lost his balance. You wiggled your wrists out of his hand and flipped you over, the spear that was once beside you now thrown into the shallows of the underwater cave.

His sheer size required the aid of your two hands, your fingers dwarfed in comparison to his wrists. You leaned forward as you breathed hard, your legs locking his hips into place.

You stayed there for a while; your chests heaving in and out, your breaths falling into sync with each other, the drops of sweat and saltwater mixing together as you gazed into each other's eyes. There were unspoken words of ardor, the promises of a lifetime, and unwavering stubbornness that the both of you possessed in your mock fight.

“Yield.” You gasped out, your hands tightening around his wrists. He chuckled.

“Is that an order?” He cheekily asked. You playfully glared at him.

“I would very much appreciate it if you finally admit the better fighter between the two of us, my love,” you leaned in closer and ghosted your lips over his mask, “now yield.”

“What shame if her majesty's guard was weaker than she, no?”

You yelped when his hulking gait now rose and trapped you in his arms. He slammed you back into the rocks, this time pinning both of your wrists with both of his hands. His powerful legs secured yours in place, and the amused smirk still never left his lips behind that mask. His chuckle was low and sensual, a shiver running up your spine as he leaned in closer to you.

“I would not dare overpower her highness, but I have honor to uphold as your aide.”

You struggled against him, your wings fluttering and aiding your movements. But he held you with all his might—a being such as you had to be held with such great strength that it needed all of his attention. And he was the strongest man in Talokan besides your father.

“You dare pin your princess down?” You asked him with a smirk. His voice was gruff as he hummed, the gritted but silken sound sending heat to the tips of your pointed ears.

“Forgive me for being so shameless.” He did not sound apologetic, rather, he found the situation amusing. The oaken sheen of his eyes held a mischievous glint that made you become hyper aware of the warmth that somehow sent a shiver up your spine.

You found yourself becoming bolder under the influence of his own mischief.

“What punishment do you fancy, oh shameless warrior?” You challenged him while leaning up to press your lips against his mask. You heard the ever so subtle hitch from his breath and felt the grip of his hands tightened around your wrists. “Whatever shall I do to you for this treachery?”

“Yield and I shall let you do your bidding, in princesa. Anything you want.” His voice dropped and made your thoughts hazy; you would have mistaken him for using his hypnotic melody to control you to his bidding.

You bat your lashes at him in faux admiration, over acting the delightful gasp that came from your mouth. You pressed your chest against his, the jewels that adorned your neck making it impossible to satisfy the itch that you desperately wanted to satiate.

“Anything?”

Attuma tightened the hold on your wrists and licked his lips behind his mask, his piercing eyes darkening as he slowly lowered himself against you.

“Anything.”

“Ehem.”

Namora stood by the water's edge, one hand planted firmly in her waist and the other carrying the spear you gifted her for her achievements as the new general. She gave both of you a pointed look and groaned in mock disgust.

“Must you always do that when you train?”

Attuma removed himself from you slowly, careful not to hurt you in any way. He helped you up to your feet and kissed the side of your head as you finally stood. You smiled.

“Whatever do you mean, Namora? The General and I are merely sparring.”

“Don't play coy with me, princess,” she groaned, “you know fully what I mean. And Attuma, have some shame. You're training her, not winning her affections.”

“Everyday is a quest to win my beloved's affections, no?” Attuma made his point by taking your hand and kissing the healing scars from your earlier spar. You felt heat crawl from your neck as he did so.

Namora's face contorted to one of incredulousness.

“Unbelievable,” she almost laughed at the absurdity of it all, but she meant it in good faith, “ever since you have asked for her hand you have been quite bold. Whatever happened to the oh, so patient Attuma who was willing to wait three centuries before confessing to the princess, hm?”

“He could not wait any longer, I suppose.” You laughed when Attuma hissed at your best friend and relative, your hand now resting in his plated chest to calm him. You felt him shiver under your touch.

Attuma rolled his eyes at the both of you. “You speak as if I am not here.”

“And what of it?” Namora challenged playfully. Attuma kicked his spear up from the ground and caught it mid air, pounding it against the rocks as a declaration.

“I'll let you know that I am not to be ignored, especially if it's concerning my love for the princess.” He pounded the brunt of his spear to the floor again, but this time with much more strength that left dents on its wake.

“You dare challenge me? Oh, how frightening.” she twirled her spear around her head and poised it to attack.

“Can we please not do this today?” You groaned. Attuma and Namora always found a way to initiate a mock battle between the two of them. Although the show was impressive in its right, they would often make it more of a spar for endurance; their fights lasting half a day if left unsupervised.

But you had to admit, their battles—especially ones that concerned you or your father—is their little show of friendship. And it was their way to stay in their peak conditions as warriors.

“Is that an order, in princesa?” Attuma turned to you with a wide grin. You sighed.

“It's a request, my love. You know I don't like giving orders.”

“Then consider it fulfilled.” Attuma lowered his spear and stood in attention by your side as if nothing happened. Namora followed suit and cleared her throat, the playful disposition both of them had now fading.

“Thank you, my Generals. Although your love for battle is admirable, I think we have more pressing matters to attend to, no?” You looked at Namora in question. She straightened up and pounded her spear on the ground, the sea water splashing to your feathered ankles.

“K'uk'ulkan wishes all of his fighters to gather, in princesa,” she glanced at Attuma and shifted her eyes back to you, “and your presence is needed as well.”

“Whatever for?” You asked her, your head cocked to the side. Attuma used this opportunity to pick up your spear from the shallows and handed it to you, his fingers brushing over your own. You smiled at him thankfully, your body gravitating towards his out of habit.

“There have been…reports about the surface. I have been spared the details until all of us are present.”

You and Attuma looked at each other in question, but you followed Namora into the water to meet with your king.

Compared to the last few decades that you and Attuma have been together, he now had it in him to swim in stride with you. He didn't lower himself so far down to match the decorum of his nameless self, instead, he could now stand by your side as if you were equals, the titles he had garnered for himself speaking volumes of his place by your side.

He still submitted to you, his oath of piety resounding loud and clear through both words and actions. But you never really did find it in yourself to use your authority to such an extent. He would still follow your words as if they were the Word of truth, and he would still do your bidding even if you didn't ask him to.

Truly, no other man beside him could match the splendor that came with your name, and you had fallen harder for your warrior as soon as you learned that he had done all of this for your sake; so that he could stand by your side without anyone questioning your choice.

You had arrived at the bottom of the underwater coves that led to the entrance of your great city, your Generals now swimming back in respect. You nodded at them as you put your hand through the rock as a key, of some sort, that responded to the vibranium from your decorated vambrace.

Not a second later, a current formed in front of you that pulsed with the energy to propel you forward. You turned to your Generals and grinned.

“Shall we?”

You smiled bashfully when Attuma took your hand in yours as Namora swam forward to guide you. The strong current pushed you forward in speeds that only K'uk'ulkan could even fathom to achieve with his winged ankles. Although you bore the same likeness as him, you never did achieve his speed no matter how much you trained.

As soon as the rapid currents stopped, you waved by passing sea-life and greeted the whales that swam overhead with a joyous laugh as you approached the capital city of Talokan, the rays of the underwater sun now drawing closer as you approached.

“My daughter.” K'uk'ulkan greeted you with a soft smile as soon as you had arrived the throne room. You swam up to him as your Generals stayed behind, your father eyeing the lingering touch of your fingers on Attuma's bicep.

“I hope you are well, father,” you rested your forehead against his, his hands finding purchase on the back of your neck, “Namora told me you wanted to see us.”

“Yes. It is an urgent matter, my child.” His eyes flickered to that of a dark hatred that you could only remember him showing to surface-dwellers. You couldn't help but slowly pull back, your hands holding his and rubbing circles on the back of his own to somehow calm him. You resisted the urge to show fear—fear of such raw emotion that was but a fraction of a second from your own father.

“Then we mustn't waste a second longer.”

You took your place on your throne as a steady stream of other generals, warriors, and council members alike gathered below to wait for K'uk'ulkan's next words, murmurs erupting from your subjects about the possibilities of such a gathering of strong fighters. You had to wonder as well—why did your father call you all here? What had happened on the surface for this to be such an urgent matter?

In the middle of your own thoughts, Attuma swam forward to drape you in your royal robe and rested his forehead against yours.

“Your thoughts are loud, in yakunaj. Your people are worried.”

Your face broke into a grin.

“You mean you are worried.”

“How can I not? I worry for you everyday, my love. Especially after…” You silenced him by putting your pointed finger to his lips.

“It was six years ago, Attuma. I am well and alive. I will not disappear again, I assure you.”

Six years ago the ocean shook with Talokan's grief and rage when you, their darling princess, had suddenly disappeared and turned to dust along with half of your citizens. When you had magically appeared again, materializing on the same spot on your throne, Attuma was the first to cradle you and hold you tight—as if you were to become dust again if he did not hold you any tighter.

He never left your side since, and he constantly doted on you.

“You cannot blame me, my love,” he clasped the gold and jaden pins together and leaned into your ear so only you could hear, “I fear for what is to come. I have a bad feeling.”

“Purge your worries, my darling. Whatever may come we shall resolve together. Now swim back down before father decides to fight you again.”

You smiled and gave him a chaste kiss to the cheek before he descended down to join his ranks with an amused smile, but his worry lingered on his brow, still.

K'uk'ulkan put his hand up to silence his subjects. Not a moment later, the throne room fell into a hush. The water felt still and tense, tension practically surrounding all of you as you waited for your king's next words.

“There are whispers amongst the sea about the surface dwellers' activities. We had let them do as they wished far from our home, deterring them in utmost secrecy of our location. Although Talokan has remained safe, I'm afraid their next mission might compromise our well kept secret for centuries…”

Your father proceeded to tell you all about the vein of vibranium found in the Pacific and the intentions of surface dwellers to mine them dry. Reports from your scouts say of a machine that could detect vibranium—something that filled your subjects with great worry. If that machine could detect the smallest vein of vibranium on the bottom of the deep Pacific, who was to say that they would not find your kingdom rich in the precious metal as well?

Panicked murmurs coursed through the throne room, the voices of your worried citizens reaching a peak that buzzed the waters with anxiety. Fear.

You slammed your spear beside your throne, the vibranium reverberating and beckoning everyone to quiet down. You saw Attuma smirk—what great power you hold to silence warriors of great renown to your beck and call.

“Let the king speak, my brothers and sisters. Do not let your fear consume you. We are Talokan; we do not yield under the threat of surface dwellers.”

“The princess is correct,” your father rose from his throne and held his head up high, “there is no need to worry. We shall attack their base at night, covering ourselves in the darkness of the new moon. We shall eliminate the threat swiftly and disappear as we always have.”

“And what if we are to be discovered, in ajawo?” My king. An old council member voiced his thoughts, “their technologies have grown. There is no guarantee we can hide our attack.”

“The Wakandans will take the blame,” he said darkly, his voice sure and his strategies thought out, “they have so foolishly revealed themselves to the world and given the surface dwellers the opportunity to discover us. It is the consequence of their own actions. And Talokan will remain hidden. I shall discuss our course of action to your Generals—until then, you must prepare for battle.”

You stood and bowed your head before your father and king, putting your hands in the likeness of a serpent's mouth. Your subjects followed suit in reverence to their ruler.

“Líik’ik Talokan!”

Attuma was a man of few words, his actions spoke louder than his verbal promises. Yet in your presence did he always find his tongue spilling with praises for you, vows of his loyalty, and the whispers of his unending love for you at every moment that you were together.

He often told you that you were the very sea that sustained him—gave him life—whilst you placed your forehead unto his. He would pick up his spear and tell you that he was yours to use as you wished; but you never did use such authority.

He was enough. His love was always more than enough.

He told you that you were a strong woman. So strong, in fact, that he would often tell you that you would make a greater ruler than K'uk'ulkan (such a thought would have been treacherous, but he found comfort in voicing his deepest thoughts to you no matter how audacious it would be in the ears of the council.)

But in the face of a great threat, where your father had given you a task that far towered over you in dangerous foreboding, did you doubt those very same words that he would whisper against your skin.

“Are you alright, in yakunaj?” Attuma asked you, his hand caressing your waist as you sat by the rocks of the surface. You leaned into his shoulder—now stripped of the spiked armor that he always wore—and sighed.

“I'm alright. Just…nervous,” you intertwined your hands with his as you watched the stars that littered the sky, “father gave me such a big responsibility. I have never even set foot outside the reef but he expects me to lead a platoon of our finest sirens to initiate the strike. What if I fail? What if I start on the wrong note? What if I disappoint my father? What if—”

“And what if you don't?” He asked you, his thumb painting circles on your sun-kissed skin. “No one doubts your abilities. You will do just fine.”

Attuma watched as your eyes glazed with unshed tears. They were magnificent in every way; even in your sorrow did you outshine the moon that graced the sea.

He caught the saltine gems of your despair on his thumb, wiped it clean from your cheek, and brought his masked lips to kiss the trail that it left in its wake—just below your eyes that fluttered close as he drew near.

“And what if you are wrong?” You asked him, your voice cracking and stuttering.

His brows furrowed.

“Have I ever lied to you? Have I ever been wrong?”

“Well, consider this, what if—”

He silenced you with a thumb to your lips, grazing the supple flesh as he cooed for you to hush. For you to lay your worries at ease.

“What if I kiss you right now to silence your thoughts, my love?”

You blinked in surprise. Only have you noticed the proximity of your lips, of your eyes, of the touches of his fingers across your damp skin.

But you did not pull away.

He ghosted his fingers down to your neck, his touch lingering on the base of your pointed ears. You felt heat crawl up to your cheeks as he did so.

Attuma stared into your eyes, waiting for your response. Your eyes flickered to his lips, then back to his earthen gaze, and then back to his lips.

You burst into fits of laughter.

“...Your mask, my dear,” you giggled, “you cannot possibly kiss me when your lips are sealed in land.”

He pressed his forehead against yours and laughed with you.

“But have I not calmed the storm of your thoughts?” He inquired cheekily. You laughed in disbelief and rested your hands on his barren chest.

“You are an insufferable man, Attuma.”

“And you are simply exquisite, my princess.” He drew himself closer, your bodies sharing what little heat the both of you had from the cool, night air. You felt him playing with the ends of your hair as he continued to dig deep into your very soul with his piercing eyes. He continued.

“You are the darling pearl of the sea. Your wisdom equals that of the king. Your subjects adore you, your warriors revere you, and the council already see you as a prospect to rule in the foreseeable future. K'uk'ulkan assigned you to lead your own platoon outside of Talokan for he knows you are ready. Prove to him that you are worthy of the responsibility he entrusted you with, just like how I had proven to you that I am worthy to be by your side.”

Your breath stuttered as you felt his heart thump in his chest. He chased your hand and held it tightly, as if to tell you that his heart only beats for you. That it would bleed and cease and skip only for your majesty.

What such blessing fell into your hands, you wonder, to grace you with the magnificence of a man such as Attuma?

“...How did I ever become so fortunate to have been given a lover such as you?”

“I am hardly worthy, in princesa. I should be the one to ask that of you,” Attuma tightened his hold, “and I have not become your lover just yet—not when I have yet to prove myself to K'uk'ulkan.”

“Forget what my father thinks, Attuma,” you brushed away strands of wet hair that stuck to his face and gazed lovingly into his eyes, “you have proven more than enough to me that you are worthy to be by my side. He is simply stubborn.”

He scoffed as if he was amused.

“And rightfully so. No one should be able to win your hand without great deliberation.”

“And yet here you are.” You cheekily cooed. His chest rumbled as he chuckled merrily.

“I have not officially won your hand yet.”

You brought his hand to your lips and kissed the knuckles that were littered with scars from his battles.

“Hush now. You have won my hand the moment you have made your vow. I simply cannot think of anyone else to love this much other than you,” Attuma's heart blossomed with pride and adoration as you continued, “and you would make a great king someday. You are perfect.”

“That is for K'uk'ulkan to decide.” You gave him a pointed look.

“That is for me to decide. I will not allow anyone to sit on that throne unless it was you, in yakunaj.”

What such bliss does Attuma feel, you wonder, as soon as you witness his very being light up with such love for you as he hears those words come out of your mouth?

What such contentment did you bring him for the warrior you so loved to laugh in earnest for the joys that you had given him?

Under the witness of the full moon, free of the prying eyes of both land and sea, Attuma grabbed you by the waist and plunged into the shallows of the reef, his mask now discarded with such haste, and his hands tracing your features with such tender adulation that made your heart soar into the heavens.

You were a sight to behold—a goddess, that you were. Basked in beaming light of the late night, fractals of lustrous gems dancing across your skin, and oh, what to say about your twinkling eyes that the stars of the Atlantic would pale in comparison to?

“I love you.”

And with those words of pure ardor, Attuma planted his lips on yours.

And you love him too, you wanted the words to fall in pure ecstasy. But you settled with wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

For your lips were enough to tell him all he needed to know.

The sea was quiet, darkness surrounding you and your platoon as you watched two surface dwellers probe with the machine that connected itself with the veins of vibranium that throbbed on the seafloor. It wasn't much, barely a morsel compared to Talokan's own mines, but in the wrong hands it would cause catastrophic damage.

You resisted the urge to call off the attack—they were still living beings, ones that have family, friends, even lovers. But you gritted your teeth and strengthened your resolve. There was no time for mercy when your nation was so close to its discovery.

“Attuma. Namora.” You called out. They nodded and stood in attention, spears ready and poised.

“Yes, princess.” They replied. You nodded, satisfied with their attentiveness.

“Leave one alive. The man. Father needs information.”

You turned to the platoon under your command, all women whose voice exceeded anyone else's. Their voices reigned supreme in every aspect, their enchanting melodies the testament to the many legends surface dwellers passed on to their kin as bedtime stories.

And you were their leader, the forefront to the hymns of your people.

Attuma resisted the urge to follow after you as you swam forward under the guise of the inky depths. As if sensing the imminent danger the divers are under, they looked around in haste, their nerves up high. He positioned his spear to attack when needed—he was not going to let you get hurt.

You focused your gaze on the man, his eyes flickering with fear. He talked into his comms in panic, his mission now long abandoned as his adrenaline peaked.

And then you started to hum.

It was an enthralling sound, one that your father had taught you when you were younger. It would lead surface dwellers into your arms, charmed by the promises that lay in each note. One of the divers looked around, trying to find the voice that called out to him so warmly—like a mother would to her children.

And you swam forward, just in the line of his sight and away from his partner's eyes, and beckoned him forward with a smile.

“Come to me, child. Come to me.”

Dazed and enamored, he took a step forward. He could not hear the calls of his superiors nor the worried cries of his crewmate. He just had to sink into your arms; mission be damned.

With a speed comparable to the fastest of missiles, you cut the cord that connected him to the surface and dragged him away into the inky depths. You made sure to give the diver a charming smile before you smashed his helmet open—cutting any sort of communication that he previously had—and replaced his supply of air with the mask your people used.

“Breathe, child. You may close your eyes and dream.”

Warriors came to take the surface dweller away upon Namora's instructions. You felt Attuma's hand on your shoulder, his lips landing on your cheek so tenderly.

“You have done well, my love.” He whispered. You gave him a grateful smile before turning to Namora.

“You may do as you wish with the other surface dweller. K'uk'ulkan has no use for them.”

Namora nodded and did her bidding with the other diver, beckoning her squad to wreck the machine as she stabbed the surface dweller and dragged them into the depths of the ruthless ocean.

You could only look away.

“Sisters,” you turned to your platoon and held your spear up high, “it is time. Let the surface dwellers hear the hymns of our people and guide them into the sea. There shall be no mercy for them.”

Attuma joined you as your group ascended to the surface, his hand holding on to your own tightly. You knew he was to rejoin his ranks, so you savored his comfort a little while longer as you started the first notes of your siren's song.

With one last squeeze to his hand, you used your feathered ankles to finally surface in full.

Attuma could not hold back the awe from his face—you were ethereal in every way, ascending into the air like a deity of the sea. The jewels that adorned your body glistened under the artificial lights of the ocean rig, your hands extended out to call forth the charmed souls into your waiting arms.

An enchantress.

Your group of singers eventually followed your melodies, the haunting tunes now taking full effect. Not even a few seconds later, splashes reverberated from the sides of the rig, all reaching out to you and clawing at the air in hopes to get to you; to touch you, to worship you.

Their last sights were that of a goddess, an angel, their deliverance. You had smiled upon them with pity as you sang the hymns of your people.

How these woeful souls longed to even touch your feet and kiss it in full before they succumbed to the frigid waters and met their demise

Their ends were silent. They showed no signs of struggle and surrendered to the arms of sweet death.

At least you had given them sympathy in their last breaths, even if it was in the influence of your hypnotic voice.

But you knew it was just an excuse to justify your guilt.

You closed your eyes as soon as you heard the gunshots from the rig, the company under your father's command now boarding the infrastructure and attacking any leftover surface dwellers that remained. You slowly descended into the water and dove into the awaiting arms of Attuma, your breath hitching as you calmed your racing heart.

“I am still weak.” You whispered, the songs of your people drowning your own voice. But Attuma still heard.

“It is okay, my love,” he caressed your back and placed a kiss on your forehead, “you have done your part beautifully.”

“Must there be death in every battle? In every war?” The answer was obvious, but Attuma still took the time to humor you.

“It is inevitable.”

Following your successful attack on the facility, you had coaxed your surface dwelling captive to tell you everything about the machine they had used to find the smallest hint of vibranium in the Pacific. You had used your voice to allure him into your bidding, and with a simple caress to his cheek and hypnotizing hum against his ear, he had submitted to you and forgot his loyalties.

When the surface dweller finally cracked under your fake attention, there you found the information of the young female scientist who created the whole machine.

Attuma wasn't so happy that you had to use such tactics, but it was the most effective. You made sure that he watched the whole exchange to ease his mind—but it only ended up with you being pinned to the wall and being winded by his lips.

It was to claim you, he insisted. He will allow no man to receive the feathered touches that you gave him, to hum against their ear with your allure whilst he watched.

Your dear warrior was just possessive, you thought in amusement.

Your father was satisfied with your findings. It was added to his already growing pride for your successful first mission away from Talokan. K'uk'ulkan was sure that the kingdom will be left in good hands once he passes his title to you.

And your heart swelled when your father praised you for your exploits and gave you access to explore beyond the reefs of the surface—you were now free to fly wherever you wished so long as you were careful (and of you will be careful. You didn't want this opportunity taken away from you).

Your father had taken it upon himself to go to Wakanda and demanded their queen mother for the scientist. He had deployed his soldiers (including Namora and Attuma) to be wary of the movements of the princess and her warrior aide, the Dora Milaje's general.

“I want to fight that warrior. The female general.” He told you as soon as he came back, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face on your shoulder from behind. You cocked a curious brow.

“Oh? Pray tell, do you fancy them?” He huffed.

“Not as much as I fancy you, my love,” he peppered kisses on the jewelry upon your skin, “I simply admire their skill as a warrior—but you far outshine them in every aspect.”

“Ever the charmer I see.” You laughed. He grabbed your hips to turn and face him and pressed himself closer, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

He smirked.

“For you? I’ll always be.”

After they had fought near the waters of the Western surface dwellers, Namora and Attuma had brought home the princess of Wakanda and the scientist that you had sought out for their brilliant minds.

Only, you did not expect the scientist to be a child.

Your father had gone to talk to Shuri, a diplomatic way of coaxing her into a more peaceful negotiation, you gathered. You were left to sit on your throne and rule in your father's stead.

“What is on your mind, in yakunaj?” Attuma asked beside you. You sighed and fiddled with your grandmother's bracelet, the jade from the jewelry shining brightly under the underwater sun.

“Nothing, really. I was just hoping that the talks would go well. There's no reason for this to escalate further than it should.” You urged Attuma to stand closer to you.

He did so without question.

When he finally placed himself by the seat of your throne, you leaned your head against his waist and just surrendered yourself to the safety of his presence. He held you closer to his side, his hands now drawing comforting circles on your shoulders as you overlooked your kingdom.

From the corner of your eye you could see your father talking to Princess Shuri, her being clothed in a suit that could protect her from the pressures underwater.

You watched them attentively.

“Do you think father will allow me to talk to her?” The hands that drew circles around your shoulder ceased.

“There will be no such thing,” he chided, “what if she will hurt you?”

“Do you really think a lone surface dweller, of all things, is enough to hurt me?” You joked lightheartedly. But Attuma did not take it well.

“I promised you that no surface dweller shall ever rest their eyes on you without meeting their death. That will not change now.” Your heart pounded against your chest at your lover's protectiveness. But you just needed to find a way to convince him somehow.

“Maybe I can help my father with the negotiations. From where it stands, I doubt the Wakandan princess will even agree to father's terms.” You tore your eyes away from the Princess of Wakanda and your father as they swam away. Your eyes furrowed when you saw the downcasted look on K'uk'ulkan's face—you took note to approach him about it later.

“A foolish decision, truly.”

“And I understand her sentiments,” Attuma looked at you in question, his head cocking to the side. You continued, “that scientist is merely a child. People stole her inventions and took credit for themselves while she received our ire. And to declare war on the surface…even I could not fathom such scale.”

“The surface dwellers' shortcomings come from their own negligence. If they were to be more careful—”

“I do not wish to kill the scientist, Attuma, nor do I wish for war.”

He paused, the only sound from the throne room were the hums of the vibranium sun and the slow moving currents from the tide. You looked up to him as he shifted ever so slightly, the grip on your shoulder only tightening.

And after a few beats of silence, he asked.

“Why?”

Why indeed, you wondered.

You were sure you were prepared for war. You were sure you were ready to fight for your nation and reclaim the land that you rightfully owned.

But something was holding you back.

“I do not wish for violence. And I pity her, that is all. She is a child whose work was stolen and discredited for. Her mind is great, but she is unaware of the damages she would have caused. And…and I do not wish for more deaths, especially one that is as young as her.” You glanced at your hands—the hands that held blood of countless surface-dwellers. A necessary sacrifice, but it did not mean it felt right.

“Your mercy is worthy of praise, my love. But one wrong move will lead to our discovery. It will lead to war. One surface dweller's life for the life of your kingdom—those are the options you have to choose from.”

He swam in front of you and knelt before your feet, his headpiece now lay discarded beside him as he rested his head on your lap. You wove your fingers through his dark tresses; they were soft as silk.

“Is there no other way?” You asked him. He trailed his fingers up your lap and took hold of your hands, his lips lazily kissing your knuckles.

“Perhaps not. But the king sees this as the best course of action. Believe in his plans; believe in your father.”

Your head dove down into deep thought, your hands mindlessly playing with Attuma's long hair. He leaned into your touch as you massaged his scalp, the delightful rumble from his chest giving you enough motivation to continue.

“...If that is what you think, then I shall listen.” He peered up to you with those fierce eyes that only softened for you.

“And what have you chosen?”

You swallowed the lump on your throat, the decision weighing heavily on your shoulders.

“I choose to trust you and my father. It might be against my heart, but if it is for Talokan, if war is necessary for our people, then it shall be done.”

He slowly rose and took your cheeks into his hands, his forehead now pressing against yours. In those moments did you relish the assurances from his touches, his thumbs unraveling the lines of worry from your troubled brow.

“There is no need for you to spill blood. You only need to give the order and I will do it for you. This is why I am here; it is my purpose.”

You shook your head and placed a chaste kiss on the side of his lips. He chased you as you retreated, your hands now finding purchase on his strong jaw.

“Thank you, Attuma. But I need to do this on my own.” He snapped his eyes to yours indignantly.

“In princesa—”

“I can't keep depending on you, my love. I want to become a better partner for you, to become strong and protect you as well. What kind of a queen would I be if I can't protect my future king?”

Attuma felt a thousand sparks lifting him up to the heavens as you said so. You were strong, stronger than you would admit to yourself. But you always doubted yourself; doubted your abilities, your choices, your authority.

But now, he was honored to witness the paradigm shift of your conviction. It was like the embers he had heard stories of in his time on water—where it was hotter than the vibranium sun that shone, more persistent and brighter than the light from the luminescent algae of your father's hut, and it burned so elegantly while still maintaining its power.

You were beautiful. Strong.

How could he ever say no to you?

“Then let me have the honor to witness your first steps of your will. I want to see you shine, my love. My queen.”

You laughed and drew him closer to you, his body now suspended into the water until his eyes were level with yours, and his lips now mere inches away from you. His arms trapped you in your throne—but you were more willing to submit to him and held prisoner to his affections if it meant you'd spend a lifetime in his arms.

“I am not queen yet.”

He smirked, his leg snaking between yours; anything to be closer to you.

“In my heart, you already are.”

Your father called Attuma and Namora to join him to meet Queen Romanda. You had assured him that you will be alright, that meeting with the Wakandan princess will not harm you in any way. You already had K’uk’ulkan’s permission to talk to the surface dwellers—he trusted that you could protect yourself whenever the need arises (not that you needed much protection. They could not even put a scratch on you even if they tried).

“Be careful,” Attuma told you as he caressed your cheek, his mask covering the purse of his lips as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your pointed ears, “I will not be there to protect you when anything happens.”

“You worry too much, my love. I’ll simply talk to the princess, nothing more.” You cupped his strong jaw and placed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

You heard the sound of splashing beside you, your father and Namora now ready to dive into the water to meet with the Queen of Wakanda. You stepped back and bowed your head low to your king and generals.

“Please return safely.” K’uk’ulkan gave you a nod.

“We will.”

And before Attuma could even hug you goodbye in front of your father, Namora dragged him by the back of his spiked armor and plunged deep into the water. You couldn’t help but laugh when Attuma huffed indignantly, but he obeyed Namora nonetheless.

You took your time to change into far less intimidating garb—one that is free of your armor and only left jewels around your neck, ears, and wrists to show your authority. Beautiful articles of your traditional clothing wrapped you in the finest material that your people could provide. Only the best for their princess, they always told you, wrapped in jades, gold, and pearls.

You brought a basket full of corn and fresh fruits from the surface to offer your visitors something to eat whilst you spoke with them, waving to some of the nearby guards who stood in attention around the frightened women. Their hushed whispers soon come to a halt when they finally see you enter the caves they were held in, the warriors and the attending maid present all bowing their heads in respect.

“Be at ease.” You called out to them. Although your people understood and resumed their positions, the surface dwellers cocked their heads in confusion. You cleared your throat.

“I am not here to harm you.” You spoke in a tongue they would most likely understand. They straightened up and watched you cautiously.

“You speak English.” The Wakandan princess, Shuri, said. You nodded.

“English…yes, that is what you call this language,” you slowly set your basket down and gave them a smile, “I have always been fascinated with the way surface dwellers speak amongst each other. It is diverse.”

“You and Namor are related.” Princess Shuri put the scientist behind her and tried to put as much distance as she could between you. Both their eyes shifted to your pointed ears and the wings upon your ankles that fluttered as it landed on them. The girl, Riri, could only look at you warily.

“Fear not. I swear I bring no harm to you nor your people. And I apologize for not introducing myself,” you bowed your head and stepped back. You wanted to know that you were not a threat, that you could be trusted. You told them your name first, the surface dwellers testing the way it rolled on their tongue. You continued, “my people call me many names, but you are free to choose which name makes you comfortable. Or you can address me by my titles.”

“And your titles are?”

“Radiant Pearl of the Sea, Child of the Feathered Serpent God. Or if you'd prefer princesa, or princess, in your language,” you heard their breaths hitch as you continued, “beloved daughter of Talokan’s king, K’uk’ulkan.”

“So like, what, you’re royalty?” Riri suddenly asked. The bluntness of her question elicited a chuckle from you. It was light, almost enchanting. They couldn’t help but loosen up in your presence.

“I suppose so, yes. But I treat my people as my brothers and sisters. And while you are a visitor to our home, I will treat you the same.”

“And why have you come?” Shuri asked you, her guard still noticeably up. You walked closer to her slowly, your steps deliberate and unthreatening.

“I have heard how you had rejected my father’s proposal. You wish not to make an alliance for war, nor do you wish to give up this child’s life in exchange for Wakanda’s safety.” Shuri’s eyes hardened.

“Either option is out of the question.”

“And I agree with you, Princess Shuri.” Both of their eyes widened in surprise.

“Then—”

“I am not finished,” you put your hand up to silence them. They immediately did so. Riri shrunk down at the sheer power of your words, but Shuri managed to hold her head up high. You sighed, “both choices require sacrifice. Both have consequences. We are both heirs to our kingdoms; we are the same, you and I. Surely you should know this much.”

Shuri’s jaw tightened. You could see her body tense, and her eyes burned with such hatred that were reminiscent of your father’s own fury. You held your chin up high and held your ground.

“And I do not accept such terms! If you claim to agree that such choices are madness, then why have you not said anything?”

You straightened yourself and pursed your lips together.

“Because my feelings do not matter when it comes to the betterment of my kingdom. I act upon what is necessary, not what is wanted.” Your heart lurched as you said those words, but you knew it had to be said.

Your response had left both of them shell-shocked, at least, how could you say that your feelings don’t matter with such a straight face? And follow it up with a formal smile, no less.

You turned to the scientist and offered her a sympathetic look. “Your mind is brilliant, child. I cannot deny that. But your surface-dwelling companions have left you to receive the ire of our nation. I do not wish to kill you, nor do I want to wage war. But if you pose a threat to my people then I will not hesitate to end your life.”

Shuri hid Riri behind her and regarded you with a frown. “Then we are not the same, princess.”

You sighed.

You knew the Wakandan princess would not yield to your words so easily. But there was a hope inside of you that she would understand your words, especially when you and her share the same responsibilities as heir (even if the role was forced upon her after the death of her king brother).

“Your spirit is strong, Princess Shuri. I admire that about you,” you walked forward and untied the bracelet from your wrist—the same bracelet that your grandmother once owned before she passed it onto your father, “but I must abide by my father’s will. I only hope that you understand his intentions; he only wishes the best for his people, even if it means he needs to force his hand into violence.”

You gently grabbed her hand and watched her carefully as you lifted it up. She did not do anything to stop you, nor did the scientist who now watched you in curiosity (her eyes were now rid of fear, which you were glad about). You saw this as a signal to continue, to wrap your grandmother’s bracelet on her wrist and secure it tightly.

“What is this?” She asked you quietly while admiring the jade on the jewelry. You smiled.

“An apology, of sorts, for how my warriors and my father had treated you these past few hours. It was my grandmother’s. My father gave it to me as a reminder of our roots,” you caressed the back of her hand with your thumb, the jewels on the bracelet making you smile, “he had seen…many things throughout his life. Things that even I could not comprehend. He protected us all these years and kept us hidden from evil doers and conquistadors of the surface world. He had set aside his own desires to put our people first. All he has done is for the benefit of our nation—of our Talokan...”

You stepped back and rubbed your bare wrist. It felt odd that your hand was empty of the bracelet that you always wore, but it felt right to give it to her.

“I only wish that you reconsider my father’s offer, perhaps reach a compromise. Before he is a man—before he is my father—he is a king. He made sacrifices for our kingdom, and this one is no different. I’m sure you have seen what we are set to protect.”

For the first time you had seen the princess of Wakanda, she smiled. It was small, barely even there, but it settled the unease that you felt in your heart.

“...I will try. But I cannot guarantee anything.” She told you. Riri finally eased up when your face broke into a delightful grin—one of genuine joy.

Hope blossomed in your chest. Maybe things will be different. Maybe you can avoid the dreaded bloodshed once the Wakandan princess and your father find a compromise.

“That much is enough for me. Thank you—”

“Princesa!”

Just as you were about to turn to your soldier, a stinging pain lodged itself into your abdomen and drew blood. The sheer power sent you flying to the ground, the wings on your ankles trying their best to steady yourself before you fell. You did so with little success, your back now pressed against the damp stone of the alcoves and dyeing it in an eerie scarlet.

Your eyes caught sight of the lifeless forms of your soldiers just behind the rocks, your heart aching at the glimpse of your unmoving brothers and sisters.

An unpleasant rage filled you to the brim, all the stories that your father had told you surfacing into the forefront of your mind.

They were your brothers, your sisters. They stood by you and protected you, always helped you improve the ways of your spear, always teased you when Attuma was near, always the people that you looked upon with favor as your loyal subjects to rule one day.

And now you didn't even know if they were breathing.

The attending maid yelled out your name just as the intruder shot your guard. It filled you with an unfathomable anger. Despite your wound, you found the strength to stand straight and glare at the woman with all the hate that your forefathers bore for the surface world.

A surface dweller dared hurt your people.

“You dare shoot me and my kin?” You asked in your mother tongue. The intruder, a woman in a green and gold diving suit with Wakandan patterns, gaped at the sight of you, her gun still poised.

That shot should have killed you at that distance!

“In princesa!” The attending maid lunged at Shuri and brandished a knife to her neck. You groaned as you put your hand up to the intruder in warning, your other hand pressing against your wound.

You were proud of your people's initiative—such a feat must be rewarded later, you thought.

“You wouldn't want your princess to be hurt now, would you?” You asked the intruder, your whole body seething in fury. She diverted her weapon's attention to your attending maid, her finger so dangerously close to the trigger.

“Drop the weapon and I won’t have to kill you.” She threatened her in your mother tongue. You narrowed your eyes and used your wings to slowly ascend into the air, the wrath that you felt bubbling in the pits of your spirit now overflowing in waves.

Was this the hate that your father had felt all those centuries ago?

You felt the hope that settled into your heart slowly crumble into nothing but pure repugnance.

“You do not speak to my people that way.”

You lunged at her at such a speed that left her gasping as soon as she had witnessed it. You were considerably slower, the wound from your abdomen weighing you down like lead. You ignored the pain and the spurts of blood even as the intruder ducked out of the way just in time to dodge your attacks.

You propelled yourself to twist mid-air, your feet hitting the stalactites on the ceiling and using it to kick yourself forward and into the back of your enemy. You drew your fist back, her body practically open to your strikes—

“Stop! Don’t hurt her!” You heard Shuri yell. In a moment of hesitance did you slow your ascent and shift yourself to the side, your fist now creating a well-sized crater on the stalagmite just beside the Wakandan intruder as you landed.

And in that instant of panic—where your back was turned to her—she shot you again at the back, just barely missing your spine.

You cried out in pain, the stinging sensation pulsing through you tenfold. Whatever hit you had slowed down your enhanced regeneration. In the haze of your thoughts did you hear your attending maid wail and drop her weapon. You felt cold hands cradle your face, shook with great distress, and pressed down your wounds as you heaved in great gulps of air.

“Princess!" You heard someone call out your name—your real name. It was slow, almost echoey, lost in a chasm that was your own dwindling consciousness.

You were getting more and more tired.

“Sister,” you called out to nothing, your hands trying to find something, anything, to hold. You felt cold hands finding purchase on your own, grasping you so tightly that it felt almost painful if it weren’t for the existing pain on your back and abdomen, “are you safe? And—and the o-others…”

“You mustn't speak! In princesa, please, save your strength. K’uk’ulkan will come—the General will come! Until then, you must hold on and heal!”

You could feel it; your consciousness fading, the darkness that beckoned you forth. You could also feel your body heal. A pitiful attempt, really, but it was something to hold onto whilst you tried to battle life and death.

You dangled in the edge of a precipice, desperately grasping what little strings of your life you had left.

You knew you should be worried about something else, but you could not remember what it was. A person, a princess, maybe, who had escaped under your watch. Or has she been captured again? What of the scientist; that brilliant child who you only got the chance to see smile? How did the intruder get in whilst you were present, to shoot you when your guard was down?

How disappointed would your father be, you wonder.

In such a shroud of your uncertainties did you only have one thought, only one name that continued to echo through the abyss that was sweet slumber. He was your only saving grace, the only man who would ever put your mind to rest.

You wondered if he would chide you for being careless, gently knocking on your head teasingly while you try to slap his bicep with a pout. You longed to see that insufferable smirk of his whenever he won a petty argument, how you longed for him to kneel before you and swear his oath again and again. You craved for the adrenaline you always got while sparring him, that sweet joy of winning and losing by his hand.

You missed him, truly, even when you had only parted for a few hours.

“Attuma…”

You wondered if it was the delusions of near death that prompted you to conjure the image of your beloved above you, the feeling of his touch far, far away from your skin as he cradled you closely. Was it the heavens that took pity on you? To have summoned the image of your darling warrior whose tears cascaded down his cheeks whilst you chased the last beats of your heart?

You must have gone mad at this moment—for his lips felt so close to you, his scent almost wrapping you in an embrace, and his fingers held the back of your neck as he spoke to you in great panic. But you were far too gone to make sense of them. You were far too deep into the darkness of sleep to hear his promises, his apologies, his weakness.

And maybe you were crazy enough to believe that he was there.

“In princesa!” You heard him through the fog of your mind. You managed to crack a shaky smile.

“What—” your body jerked up at the pain, his hands steadying you as you heaved a great intake of breath, “w-what troubles you, my love?”

You felt his forehead press against yours, the tremors of his hands going unnoticed as you still writhed from the pain. You felt salves and cold medicine being applied to your wounds—but you did not care at that moment, not when Attuma kept you afloat through the darkness that danced through your vision.

“Who did this to you?” He growled. His eyes were dark, almost murderous. You felt his anger, his rage, the pure unbridled hunger for vengeance.

“Are you really here?” You asked him, your hand now trying to chase the saltine crystals of his misery. You had to make sure that he was truly here; holding you, speaking to you, crying with you. He took his hand in yours and leaned his cheek into your palm. You could feel him—he was real. He was really here.

His first question was lost as he pressed himself closer to you, careful not to disrupt your wounds. Your vision glossed over, the blankets of darkness now taking hold of you, but you tried and tried to push them away. Anything to see him, anything to burn his very image to your memory before you closed your eyes.

“I am here. I—I am here, my love,” he pressed his masked lips on your forehead and rocked you back and forth, “whoever did this will pay.”

“I was—I was wrong to believe in them. I was wrong to…t-to hold on such hope,” you felt his tears mix with your own, the pictures of your soldier’s unoving forms flashing through your minds’ eye. You hoped they were okay. You hoped that they would still be able to open their eyes and see the kingdom under your reign, “they hurt them, Attuma. They hurt my people.”

“And they will pay with their life for their sins threefold.” His anger was apparent again. If you were his enemy, you were sure you were to be buried deep into the earth with his spear plunged into your heart. But his anger calmed you; it was an assurance that your people’s sacrifices would be paid in full.

“Are they—?” You choked out a sob. Attuma shook his head.

“Your soldiers have been caught off guard, but they are fine. They are recovering, my love. And as should you.”

You felt yourself slip into the darkness for a short while as you relaxed. Your people were safe. They did not perish like you had feared they had.

That was enough for you.

“Stay awake, in princesa! Stay awake!” You felt Attuma shake you, the feeling of his warm hands now drifting farther and farther away. Your wounds that throbbed suddenly numbed, and your world spun so fast that you eventually felt nausea kick in.

“Attuma,” you called out, your senses fading in and out. You could feel him any longer, you could not even feel his anger, his love, his worries. You called out to him again, “Attuma…in yakunaj…”

“Stay strong. Save your strength, please. The healers will come for you. For now you should—!”

“Burn them.”

There was a pause, a vacuum of undisturbed silence.

And then you heard him ask.

“What?”

Your breath stuttered. Your voice was raw; harsh. Unforgiving.

“They hurt my people. They hurt my brothers and my sisters. They—they gave me hope…”

You felt yourself finally fall into the abyss of your thoughts. It was raging like a hurricane and beat you with the waves of your feelings of betrayal. Treacherous fools who had so dared to harm you, the princess who holds authority over the seas, who so dared strike down your people in your presence, who so dared force your hand to violence for they had so proven that they are willing to strike you down when you were nothing but understanding to their strifes.

And you continued.

“No one dares enter Talokan, strike down my people, and flee unscathed. This—this is an order, Attuma. Burn them all and let them feel the wrath of Talokan.”

Attuma held you in his arms, all the weight of his rage now pulling him down to the depths of the earth as you finally closed your eyes. The attending maid wailed for their princess to stay strong, for you to keep fighting despite your weakening self.

No one could ever match the beauty you possessed despite the scars from your battle and the blood that smeared the gold of your skin. He wondered how much of his wrath would have shook the earth if he didn’t have you in his arms right now; how much blood would have been spilled, both from the enemy and his allies, if your cold hands did not hold him right now? How much destruction would he have caused for this grief if you had not smiled at him when you closed your eyes and given him the orders that he had to fulfill?

“They will pay,” he found himself gritting his teeth, his jaw tightening, and his body trembling with searing hot fury, “the surface dwellers, the scientist, the whole of Wakanda…they will pay.”

He gently wound his arms beneath your legs and hoisted you up, his masked lips kissing your cheek as he let your head rest on the dip of his shoulder. Your breathing was shallow—just barely there. You were in dire need of a healer.

He heard the frantic splashes of water from the pools leading to the great city. K’uk’ulkan and Namora emerged from the water, and before they could ask why Attuma had swam off in such a hurry, their eyes widened in horror at the sight of you; bloodied and near death in the arms of your lover whilst your attending maid wailed behind you.

“What happened?” Attuma could practically feel his king’s fury. He pushed forward in long strides and shakily caressed your cold cheek, wiping the blood that was smeared on your lip. “Which fool would dare harm my daughter?”

“T-the Wakandans, my king,” your attending maid answered for Attuma, her head bowing in fear at the angered visage of the feathered serpent god. She collected herself and dared not to quiver in his presence, “an intruder struck down the guards and shot the princess twice. They have escaped with the princess of Wakanda and the scientist.”

The room felt heavier now, the ire of the feathered serpent god now shaking the sea with an unsatiated itch for vengeance. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, the grip of his spear tightening, and his eyes darkened viciously.

“Namora.” He called out. Namora’s jaw clenched as she hit her spear on the rocks, shockwaves reverberating from the vibranium on her weapon. She will never forgive the surface dwellers for what they have done. She will make sure that every blood spilled will be in honor of your name.

“In ajawo.” She acknowledged. K’uk’ulkan turned to her, his bloodlust apparent to all his people to see.

“Gather all our warriors,” he declared, his voice low and deadly, “Wakanda has waged war.”

Attuma reluctantly handed you to K’uk’ulkan upon his command and lingered his hand on your cheek. The king submerged you down the depths in haste, his godlike speed the only way to bring you to the healers as fast as they could.

Namora and Attuma were left in a deafening silence. It was heavy, almost suffocating.

“We will burn the surface world for their crimes against the princess,” Attuma finally said, kicking his spear up and catching it mid air. He pounded it against the floor, cracks and craters now left in the aftermath of his anger, “they will know suffering. They will know pain.”

“Of course,” Namora’s eyes narrowed as she slowly stepped into the shallows, “our people will be ready to avenge her.”

Attuma’s mind flashed to the image of you; your body all bloodied, your hands desperately trying to find him, the way your eyes did not focus on him as if you could not see him crying for you.

You clung to every bit of hope that you might just avoid war. You were clawing at the loose ends of an alliance without the need for bloodshed. But the surface dwellers shot you down despite your mercy. Despite your kindness.

Attuma wondered if he were to be blamed—he should have been more stern with his counsel. He should have told you that there was no mercy to beget on the battlefield. He should have joined you to converse with the surface dwellers and protected you when you were attacked.

He had broken his vow. He did not serve as the shield who would lay its life for you in your times of need. He was not there to keep you safe.

But by your orders, he would gladly become your spear.

“The surface world will know the wrath of Talokan…” he growled, the hate he once bore for the surface now intensifying a hundredfold. Namora could only watch as he swung his spear at the stalagmites and broke the rocks clean in half, his voice now echoing through the land and the sea with a ferocity of a man who had lost their world.

Attuma will burn the world down and show the ashes of their bones in a jaden chest for he was your warrior that took oath upon your throne.

He will dye the sea red with the blood of your enemies for he was the spear that was to be used by your whim. By your beck and call.

He will serve you until his last breath and follow your will to the ends of the earth for he was your beloved to whom would love you without fear.

And he will die for you for his life mattered not when you lie by the feet of your deathbed from his own negligence as your guard. As your lover.

“... for the crimes they have committed against the future queen of Talokan, they will perish by my hand. They will burn down in the name of retribution.”

He looked down at his hands that were still stained with your blood and clenched it into a fist. Attuma hardened his jaw and growled.

“This is an order from the princess.”

Whoops >:))

Taglist: @w0niecult @abbyeliza28 @fckwritersblock @chaoticevilbakugo @cascadingbliss @erisandra-noir @queen-bee-32 @rheannaaaz @antisocial-architect @lunamoonbby @lilchickensworld @kellzsthings @sodonuthideout @vilentia @llamayom @violet-19999 @f-ergj @daddyslittlevillain

#attuma x reader #attuma fanfic #attuma x princess!reader #attuma #attuma of talokan #mcu attuma #attuma x poc!reader #alex livinalli #namor #mcu namor #namora #mcu namora #mcu x reader

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amnhnyc · 1 year

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🎵Ooh… Who sleeps in a mucus bag under the sea? That’s right kids: It’s the fourspot parrotfish (Scarus zelindae). During the day, it uses a parrot-like beak to scrape algae from coral reefs in the southwest Atlantic Ocean. But by night, this fish wraps itself up in a cocoon of mucus! In a process that can take up to an hour, the parrotfish secretes mucus from glands near its gills. Scientists think that these mucus sleeping bags mask the scent of the fish, protecting it from predators. It’s also believed that the parrotfish’s mucus shields it from blood-thirsty isopods: marine critters that have been called the “mosquitoes of the sea.” Photo: RobertoCostaPinto, CC BY-SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons #wildlife #ocean #oceanlife #fish #biodiversity #amazinganimals https://www.instagram.com/p/Cof24FpP4gx/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#wildlife #ocean #oceanlife #fish #biodiversity #amazinganimals

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displacedentities · 1 year

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N҉E͟W S̸͢͡P͞҉͘͢͠E̛C̴̛Ì̴͜͡Ȩ͟͞S̵͘͘͢͞ Ḑ̷̛̻̱͈̮̔̓͛̕⬤̶̧̪͉͓̑͊͋͘͝ͅ⫷̵̝̳̭̬̣̆̓͗̓͝Ứ̷̧̨̞̫͙̊̈́͘▐̷̛͚͓͕̤͖̓͝͝͝▮̴͔͔̪̭͎̉̂́̋̑▌̸̰̜͖̝́̆͐̈́̈́ͅ█̸̨̗̼̮͊͗͛́̇͜☰̵̧̞͍̗͉̆͒̒̓͌ ̴̧̧̲̼̣̌͊̽͑̓Ṇ̷̨̡̭̙̔̓̽͑̾▀̴͈̼̲͔͎̎͐̈́̉̇█̵̯̱͚̲̪̋̑͗͌͘▀̴̧̢͍̝͈̔̉̒̊̚ ̷̢̘̳̯̪͆̑͒̔͐█̸̪̻̭̦͕̄̍̋̏̚☰̵͓̞͍̰̬̎͛̈́͂͐▟̵̖̣̠̟͓̈́̉̓̐͝

(The following report has been recovered from a corrupted data drive, confiscated from Team Rocket grunts. Some information has been lost, as the hardware was damaged by blunt force, exposure to the elements and saltwater corrosion. The captured individuals are being questioned as to the origin and legitimacy of the data, as it pertains to an ongoing investigation over the sudden disappearance of the Hadal Research Group.)

~~~

Mod: Meet the newest addition to my roster, TANGLE! Tangle is a Mewtwo x Dragalge fusion I purchased from @absolutedream-art, and- I love him, I love him so much. I couldn't come up with a clean fusion name of the two species, so I decided to go ahead and not only give him his own species name, but also a baby AND Mega form >:)c I even made a full blank Fakemon template for this!

Not gonna lie obsessed with these designs now huehuehue~ Tempted to make an askblog for this guy, cuz I kinda wanna tell his story, but only if people are really interested >u<

Gonna put my thoughts, current info and bonus sketches under the ReadMore cut! cx

MEWELP ("Mewtwo"/"Skrelp"/"Mew"/"Whelp") The Kelp Hider Pokemon PSYCHIC/POISON Ability: Poison Point / HA: Adaptability Moves: Camouflage, Confusion, Water Gun, Poison Tail

Mewelp was created in the Hadal Research Group domed undersea facility, where gene therapy was being studied using the DNA of Water type Pokemon such as Corsola, Slowpoke, and Skrelp for their regenerative capabilities. Mewelp prefers to hide over seeking conflict, using its superior camouflaging abilities to mask itself in kelp and undersea detritus to the point it turns completely invisible. When attacked, Mewelp will attempt to angle its venomous back spine and tail towards the assailant. It loves hide-and-seek, and pouncing from total cover on people and Pokemon that it deems friends and family.

Evolves into MIASMALGA at level 48

MIASMALGA ("Mewtwo"/"Dragalge"/"Miasma"/"Alga") The Wreck Ruler Pokemon PSYCHIC/DRAGON Ability: Pressure / HA: Adaptability Moves: Psystrike, Water Pulse, Dragon Pulse, Gunk Shot

Miasmalga is the "adult" form of Mewelp, having matured enough to evolve the Skrelp portion of their DNA into the full Dragalge DNA sequence. Their thinking and reasoning skills have advanced drastically by the time they reach this evolution, their intelligence on par with a full-blooded Mewtwo. Miasmalga shares the telepathic communication skill of their Legendary genetic donor, and can speak to and understand both humans and Pokemon with fully developed speech and clarity. Their reliance on poisonous self-defense for protection has diminished, instead replaced by great offensive power in the form of psychic and pulse-form attacks. In spite of this, Miasmalga's temperament is typically calm, favoring respect and wisdom over brutality.

Evolves into MEGA MIASMALGA with a Miasmalgite (Root File: C̸̨̺͕̙̤͌̅̀̾͝⬤̴̧̛̭̯̹̹́̔̄͘RR█̷̧̦͖͖̾͆́̐̕͜▄̸̨̛̬̱͕͈̍͌͌͑█̸̥͉͎̯͚́̑̂͋̆P̶̛̪̥̪͖͙̾͒̿̅▀̶͔̌̓͒̈́͝T ̴̳͈̻̅̍̃̈͗ͅED)

MEGA MIASMALGA The Hadal King Pokemon PSYCHIC/DRAGON Ability: Shifting Strands*** / HA: Justified Moves: Psystrike, Megahorn, Breaking Swipe, Gunk Shot

***Shifting Strands is the Signature Ability of Mega Miasmalga. Tendrils around the user's body move and shift to hide and protect it. Raises evasiveness by one stage at the start of battle, and cuts all incoming physical damage by half.

D̷̻̈A̸̘͋ ̶̺͋▀̷̱̈́█̶͔̐▀̶͑ͅ▞̵̪͐▖̵̟̄ C̶̼͓̯͕̟̭͇̳̗̋̆͆̑́̋͋́̚⬤̸̧̛͉̝͇̬͇̭̊̊̋͗̅̿̕͝ͅͅ ̷̲̜̞̲͕͚͕̝̎́͊̎̇͑͂̉̂ͅ█̵̨̹͓̫̩̭̖͇̍̊̈̿̓̌́̚̚͜▘̷̰̲͇̠̹͚͎̼͌̔̑͑̔̓͂̀͜͠R̵̨̗̹̬͎̭̘̩̫̔̒́̋̎̆̾̏͘█̶̧̡̤̜̻̻̦͈̱͗͒̈́̄̔͊͘̚͝▄̸̦̰̟̫͓͕̫͍̦̈́̅̄͂͆̆̾͛͝█̵̧̘̖̳̙̫͕̭̦̃̉̄̀̀̃̈́̌́P̴̨̢̣̠͙͇̯̞̮͛͗͑̀̍́̾͂̓▀̷̧̢̙̺͈͔̼̲͖͑̊̇́̀͛̋̽̉█̵͇̳̩̲̪̪̭̮͆́͑̊̏̾͋̃͗ͅ▀̶̫͕̠͓̲̯̜̟͖̓͗͒͛̎͌̕̚̕ ̸̨̢̗̞̙̬͕͕͇̓͊̀̒̏̾̀̋͘█̸͚̲͇͙̮͍̱̒̑̏͗̿̄̋̇̆ͅͅ☰̷̡͉̟̺̮̫̗̤̄̌͌͒̓̐̐̚̕ͅ▟̸̠͔̮̼̬̱̝̝̜̇̌͒͛̈́́̍͘͝

~~~

And here's the bonus sketches from my work doodle book, where I was trying to learn how to block out Tangle's face, form and limb function xD

#Pokemon #Mewtwo #Dragalge #Fakemon #my art #arts #fusion #Pokemon fusion #Mewtwo fusion #Tangle #Skrelp

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urbansecretsblog · 1 year

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#urbansecrets #rosemask #face mask #100% vegan #algae #herbal

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rpstartersinc · 1 year

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* 𝐇𝐁𝐎'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 / 𝐄𝐏 𝟑, 𝟒 & 𝟓.

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

“ want your jacket back? ”

“ never been in the woods. more bugs than i thought. ”

“ i don’t want your sorries. ”

“ i wasn’t gonna say i’m sorry. ”

“ nobody made you go along with this plan. ”

“ don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault. ”

“ what are you looking out for? ”

“ is it something lame, like you fell down the stairs or something? ”

“ someone shot at me and missed. ”

“ i gotta grab some stuff i stashed. ”

“ you ask a lot of goddamn questions. ”

“ i had a friend who knew everything about this game. ”

“ there’s this one character named mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones! ”

“ ah, getting funnier. ”

“ dude, you got to go up in the sky! ”

“ so everything came crashing down in one day? ”

“ if you have to get bit to be infected, then who bit the first person? ”

“ there’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see. ”

“ well now i have to see. ”

“ whatever it was, think it’s gone. ”

“ dead people can’t be infected. ”

“ it doesn’t get old. ”

“ i’m not infected! ”

“ why did you take that long to answer? ”

“ i thought about lying for some reason, but the reason didn’t come. ”

“ i’m letting you go, so go. ”

“ if i feed you, then every bum you talk to about it is gonna show up here looking for a free lunch. ”

“ you already know i’m bad at lying. ”

“ everything tastes good when you’re starving. ”

“ i know i don’t seem like the type. ”

“ would you stop!? ”

“ paying attention to things, it’s how we show love. ”

“ there are no friends to be had. ”

“ i’ve actually been talking to a nice woman on the radio. ”

“ aren’t i the lucky one? ”

“ i got something to show you. ”

“ i like you older. older means we’re still here. ”

“ i was never afraid before you showed up. ”

“ took most of the night. i’m exhausted. ”

“ i’ve had more good days with you than with anyone else. ”

“ i should be furious. ”

“ you hear anything, you see anything, yell. ”

“ so they’re dead? ”

“ i used to hate the world, and i was happy when everyone died. but i was wrong, because there was one person worth saving. ”

“ we have a job to do, and god help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. ”

“ we can just keep our histories to ourselves. ”

“ you do what i say when i say it. ”

“ they have hot water! i’m taking a shower, and then you’re showering, because seriously - pffff. ”

“ well don’t you look pretty. ”

“ it’s like a spaceship. ”

“ gas breaks down over time, this stuff’s almost water. ”

“ it doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationary. ”

“ what did the mermaid wear to her math class? an algae bra. ”

“ i stayed up all night wondering where the sun went, and then it dawned on me. ”

“ this make you all nostalgic? ”

“ hold your horses, i wanna see what all the fuss is about. ”

“ why are all these pages stuck together? ”

“ can we start a fire? i’m freezing. ”

“ no one’s gonna find us. ”

“ if you don’t think there’s hope for the world, why bother going on? ”

“ i’m not even tired. ”

“ i’m all turned around. ”

“ this is my second day in a fucking car, man! ”

“ you’re not hurt? ”

“ you don’t come out until i say, okay? ”

“ my mom isn’t far, if you could get me to her. ”

“ you can have it. ”

“ you don’t have to! ”

“ i can’t fit through. ”

“ i was alone. ”

“ you were wronged, and i’m sorry. ”

“ they put a gun to my head! ”

“ have i satisfied the necessary conditions for you to talk? ”

“ you think i won’t do it? ”

“ i didn’t hear that guy coming. ”

“ you’re just a kid. ”

“ i know what it’s like, the first time that you hurt someone like that. ”

“ i’m not good at this. ”

“ you shouldn’t have had to, and i’m sorry. ”

“ it wasn’t my first time. ”

“ you put it in your pack, you’ll shoot your damn ass off. ”

“ we’ll get through this. ”

“ let’s just handle what we have to handle. we can deal with this after. ”

“ where would you be without me, huh? ”

“ how did you know it was an ambush? ”

“ i’ve been on both sides. ”

“ we did what we needed to survive. ”

“ did you kill innocent people? ”

“ i don’t want someone sneaking up on us while we’re sleeping. ”

“ i don’t wanna talk about it. ”

“ so it gets easier when you get older? ”

“ did you know diarrhoea is hereditary? yeah, it runs in your jeans. ”

“ you laughed, motherfucker! ”

“ look at me, not at that. ”

“ i used to be so scared of these people. ”

“ did it make you feel safe? ”

“ how does it make you feel now? ”

“ i swear, i’ve told you everything i know. ”

“ he won’t be talking. ”

“ why go to the trouble? you can kill yourself right here. ”

“ do i look scared? ”

“ i’ve been watching them, i know their patterns. ”

“ we don’t wanna hurt you, we wanna help you. ”

“ if i lower my gun, we didn’t hurt you, so you don’t hurt us, right? ”

“ that’s a weird fucking tone, man. ”

“ that’s just the way he sounds, he has an asshole voice. ”

“ i’m gonna trust you. ”

“ you know what happens when you do that to people? the moment they get a chance, they do it right back to you. ”

“ never killed anyone. ”

“ pointing an unloaded gun at you was the closest i’ve ever come to being violent. ”

“ that’s my dicey-as-fuck plan. ”

“ your dad’s kind of a pessimist. ”

“ he’s not my dad. ”

“ i’m not her dad. ”

“ endure and survive. ”

“ i wasn’t exactly telling you the truth, before. ”

“ i am the bad guy because i did a bad guy thing. ”

“ we’re not doing so good. ”

“ have you been back to the room you grew up in? ”

“ he would be horrified by the things i’ve done. ”

“ this is what happens when you fuck with fate. ”

“ are you ever scared? ”

“ i’m scared all the time. ”

“ i’m scared of ending up alone. ”

“ if you turn into a monster, is it still you inside? ”

“ stay awake with me. ”

“ gimme the gun. ”

“ what did i do? ”

#( sentence. )#sentence meme #sentence starters #rp meme #rp starters #tlou #the last of us hbo #tv series #apocalyptic #horror

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mlmxreader · 6 months

Text

My Knight | Kim Horangi Hong-jin x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ You're all doomed (damsel in distress!horangi x knight in shining armor!m!reader) - @satan-incarnate-666 ❞

: ̗̀➛ You should really blame Kortac for what happens when you and Horangi end up at a cabin, even though you know you can't.

: ̗̀➛ GORE, torture, graphic depictions of eye horror, graphic depictions of gore, graphic depictions of blood & dead things, fighting, swearing, technically autocannibalism

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The water of the lake was a dull olive colour, riddled with algae and broken sticks from the trees nearby that stood so tall; their leaves were still green, even with the snow covering the thick branches in a thin white sheet.

You weren’t sure why Kortac gave you and Horangi time off so late in the year, and if you were honest, you kind of resented them for it; the winds were harsh and icy, the ground slick and unstable with mud that suctioned against your shoes, it didn’t help that the heating system within the cabin was absolutely fucked, either.

It was odd, though, as one minute, Horangi was with you, and the next, he was gone. You figured he probably went off to chop firewood, though, and for the first few hours, you didn’t really think much of it.

But deep within the woods, in a worn down log cabin’s basement, Horangi was screaming your name; tied down to an old and neglected wooden table, he screamed as the splinters slowly pushed up into his back and the woodlice scuttled into his ears.

Yowling your name as he felt the cold blade against his thigh, caressing it as if it were examining a piece of meat; his chest was rising and falling drastically, his breath running out, his voice going hoarse and raw.

Even when the blade clattered to the floor, and a moulded and dirt caked hand pushed thick and long brambles beneath his fingernails, pushing up the nails as they tried to grasp onto his flesh with soft stringy bits of skin, Horangi still desperately tried to call for you; his tears flushed down to the table, creating small pools of salt beside his head.

With his vision blurred, Horangi glared at the masked man above him; towering over him, donned in a ripped and torn set of green - or at least they looked green - overalls, and a beaten and bloody old hockey mask, there was only one word that could leave Horangi’s mouth: “why?”

The masked man didn’t answer, leaving the brambles embedded in Horangi’s nails as he picked up his machete, and pointed over to a rotted skull; it was stained with dirt, turned nearly black with it as maggots and beetles scuttled over it, in through the eye sockets and out between the breaking teeth.

Gently, the skull lulled from side to side as beetles scampered over it and picked off bits of dirt to eat; Horangi felt physically ill, a deafening static ringing in his ears as he shook his head.

But the masked man wasn’t done with him, approaching and standing at his side; Horangi shook his head, soft whimpers of panic leaving him as he choked on his own tears.

“My boyfriend’s gonna be here any minute, and he’s gonna kick your ass!” Horangi howled, although the anxiety and the trepidation was so thick in his voice that it almost made him stutter.

The masked man didn’t seem phased, still moving slowly, every spasm of every muscle had a purpose as he grabbed a rusty and blunt needle from behind Horangi’s head, turning to the skull for a moment before nodding curtly and turning back to his victim; Horangi’s breath hitched, and he violently shook his head in protest until the masked man was forced to use one dirty and mouldy hand to hold him still.

Slowly, the masked man sunk the needle into Horangi’s eye, waiting for it to pop with a spurt of white fluid before he pushed it in further; it leaked down Horangi’s face, landing on his lip before slipping between them, making him gag.

He could feel it happening, the soft pop followed by the retraction, the blunt force of the needle yanking out his own flesh as he screamed in agony; stunned in horror, Horangi whimpered as the masked man pulled out his eye, letting it sit at the top of the needle before giving it a firm tug so that the thick string of flesh snapped audibly.

The masked man turned back to the skull again, waiting for something, and then nodded slowly once more before forcing Horangi’s mouth open and shoving his eyeball in; gagging, Horangi fought against it, but the masked man made him chew, and eventually, swallow.

It wasn’t right, Horangi had been gone for hours and he hadn’t answered his phone even when you rang him time and time again; maybe he got lost and dropped his phone, maybe he was attacked by a bear - they were, after all, just and just going into hibernation.

You were riddled with anxiety and panic as you trudged through the snow covered woodland, howling his name at the top of your lungs until your voice cracked and gave way.

Your voice was completely gone by the time you stumbled upon the cabin; it was muffled, but you could hear Horangi’s voice calling, howling, screaming. Instinct settled in, and you crouched down by the basement’s window, looking in.

He was tied down to a table, writhing and sobbing; you clenched your jaw tightly, blood boiling as the heat rose up through your body, breathing getting heavier and your hands starting to shake. You had to put an end to whatever was happening, so you scrambled up to the roof with the aid of the pile of fallen trees nearby, trying not to slip on the ice.

You crouched on the far side, and grabbed some of the broken tiles; with all your strength, you threw them against a bunch of cans that had been laid out on the fence. Hoping, waiting.

When the cunt walked out, completely unarmed, you swallowed thickly, and pulled your kukri from the sheath on your hip; with a deep breath, you waited until the cunt was close enough, and jumped on his back.

You plunged the kukri into his skull, able to feel the flesh quiver and ripple beneath the blade as you tugged it from side to side. He groaned loudly, flailing beneath you as you wrapped your legs around his neck, battering and cutting at his skull desperately.

He smashed himself against a tree, and grabbed you by the leg when your grip slightly faltered; you slashed his arm, watching as he recoiled and moaned.

“You fucking bastard!” You screamed, getting to your feet and brandishing your kukri as if it were a longsword. “You fucking hurt him! You unwashed cretin!”

The masked man grunted, lunging to grab you, but you were quicker, and easily used the handle of your kukri to bend his fingers backwards until they let out a howling snap; a highly trained soldier, the masked man had never encountered something like you before.

Highly trained, highly skilled, and pissed off. He didn’t know what was coming for him. You pushed the blade of your kukri into his eye when he got close enough, sinking the blade so deeply into his skull that it didn’t surprise you when you felt his eye pop, and heard the crushing of his skull beneath the weight of the blade.

He fell to his knees, hate filled and soulless eyes staring up at you. His final words mere noise.

“Ki ki ki, ma ma ma…”

With the disgusting brute slain, you pulled your kukri from his skull, and ran towards the basement, not even caring when you slid down the stairs; quickly, you rushed to Horangi’s side, and undid his bindings before gently helping him to sit up.

“Merlin?” You asked softly.

Horangi shook his head, coughing and spluttering. “You saved me…”

You smiled as you nodded slowly. “Always.”

“Excalibur,” he joked weakly, pointing to your sheathed kukri.

“C’mon,” you whispered softly, helping him down from the table before ripping your shirt sleeve and tying it around his face. “We’ll get you to the hospital, alright?”

Horangi agreed, holding onto you tightly every step of the way; even when you managed to get him into the car, he never let you go, and when he was taken to surgery for his eye, you could do nothing else but break.

Sitting outside of his room for hours, sobbing and cursing yourself; blaming yourself for what had happened to him. If you had just gone with him, if you had gone looking for him instead of waiting and thinking that nothing was wrong.

It was all your fault - your boyfriend nearly died, and it was all your fault. You had allowed him to get hurt, allowed him to be-

“He’s ready to see you now,” the nurse told you. “What were you doing at Crystal Lake, anyway?”

“We were given time off of work,” you muttered, pushing past them and heading into Horangi’s room. Immediately, you sat at his side, holding his hand tightly. “Hong-jin?”

He mumbled, nodding slowly. “Pendragon?”

“Merlin,” you said with a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry I let this happen to you…”

“You saved me,” Horangi rasped, shaking his head. “He would’ve killed me, if you didn’t…”

You frowned, licking your lips. “I’m no knight in shining armour, you know that.”

“You are to me,” he chuckled softly. “Makes a change, though.”

You laughed softly, clearing your throat as you sniffled. “Maybe it was time you played the damsel in distress…”

“My love,” he whispered, gripping your hand a little tighter. “I’m gonna be okay - it’s not like the doctors took one look at me and said you’re all doomed. I’ll be let out within a week.”

“I’m taking the time off,” you murmured. “However long you need to heal properly, I’m taking the time off.”

“You don’t-”

“You did it for me,” you pointed out. “When I got fucking torn to shreds by that bayonet - you did it for me.”

“I love you,” Horangi told you quietly, biting back a yawn. “You’re the best knight I could ever ask for... you're my King Arthur."

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smilesrobotlover · 7 months

Text

Whumptober day 14- water inhalation

I don’t like this one. Like, I like some parts of it but overall how it was written I don’t like. Oh well. It’s not meant to be perfect lol. It is obvious that I’m getting burnt out with all this writing?

Anyways, warning for water inhalation, nearly drowning, a frickin water monster, and yeah.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The water was dark and cold as Sky swam through it, clenching his teeth around the water dragon’s scale for dear life. The lake he, Warriors, and Twilight were near needed to be investigated in order to find a kidnapped zora, and Twilight was the only one with zora armor. Sky had his dragon scale, but Warriors didn’t trust how it ran out of air until he broke the surface or ran into a bubble. Since they had to go into deeper waters, where bubbles were not promised, Sky supposed it made some sense. But he hated having Twilight go on his own. It wasn’t that he doubted Twilight’s ability, his zora armor seemed very dependable in water, but the way Twilight eyed the water nervously made Sky nervous for him.

“I’ll be back with the missing zora in no time,” Twilight reassured, mostly to himself. “It shouldn’t take that long.”

“Are you sure you’re good to go on your own?” Sky asked. “I know that it’s not armor but my scale has worked before…”

“Sky you were in shallower water, this is deep water. Anything could happen,” Warriors said, and Sky frowned.

“Shallow water isn’t that safe compared to deep water,” he mumbled.

“Well I’ll be fine,” Twilight said. “It’s not the first time I’ve been in deep water. I’ll be back soon, hopefully.”

Sky sighed and watched as he put up his mask and disappeared into the water. Sky and Warriors waited, and waited, and waited until Sky couldn’t wait any longer. It had been hours since Twilight dove into the water, and fear for his friend overwhelmed him. If Twilight was in danger, how would they know? If he drowned, how would they know? Being in water was dangerous, and despite Warrior’s protests, Sky took off his clothes and jumped into the water, with his trusty dragon scale hanging in his mouth.

Sky didn’t know how long he had been swimming. There weren’t a lot of obstacles, and it was overall an easy swim, but it was dark enough and deep enough to make Sky uncomfortable. Thankfully, there were plenty of air bubbles for Sky to use to fill up the air in his scale, so he didn’t worry about running out like he thought he would. So he hoped that finding Twi would be a simple task for him.

Sky stopped by a big rock and gave his arms a moment to rest. He’s been swimming for a while, the pressure of being so deep was hurting his ears, and he could feel his hands begin to get all pruny. But there was no sign of Twilight, so he knew he needed to keep going. Sky eventually found himself in a strange underwater cave, or at least, he thought it was a cave. Nothing about it looked natural, in fact, it looked like a castle that was underwater, rotting away from years of neglect. Sky knew that this was where the zora was being held, and that this was where Twilight was.

When he entered the weird cave-palace, he was relieved at the different glowing algae lighting up the place. He didn’t know how any of it worked, but it helped him see where he was going, so he decided not to think about it. When he entered a more slim hallway however, he noticed that it wasn’t as lit up as the rest of the palace, and it seemed to have been a lot cleaner. That was odd…

“Excuse me.”

Sky flinched and swam away until his back hit a wall. He groaned in pain and looked around. Did he imagine that voice? Is he losing his mind?

“I’m sorry to scare you, turn around.”

Sky spun around and saw— what he assumed was — a zora. He looked at her in surprise, he was expecting the zora to look more like the parella, but seeing this one, they were nothing alike. The zora was in a cage of some sorts, only able to peak out of a small opening on the top.

“Are you a friend of that Hylian?” She asked, and Sky nodded, assuming that she was talking about Twilight. “I thought so. He was here, trying to help me. But when he found a key to open this cage, a monster with tentacles grabbed him! I don’t know where he is, I’m so worried about him.”

Sky felt his heart drop. So Twilight was in danger, and was attacked by some monster that Sky knew nothing about. Just great. Sky had fought Tentalus before, so a tentacled monster didn’t frighten him, but he fought the monster above water, not in water. The idea of fighting something as big as Tentalus in the water scared him.

“I think I may know where the creature took him,” the zora started, “I think the key he had before he was grabbed is around here somewhere. If you get me out, I can help you save him.”

Sky nodded and immediately looked at the ground below him. Lo and behold, he found a big key in the corner. He grabbed it and unlocked the cage, allowing the zora to leave her prison.

“Follow me!” She said before swimming out of the hallway. Sky struggled to follow her, she was definitely built for water, and many times she had to stop and wait for Sky to catch up. His arms and legs were burning, and his throat was painfully dry. Sky just had to make sure that he didn’t cough, or else he’d inhale a bunch of water. He already did that before, and the pneumonia he got from it was not fun. Finally, he and the zora reached an open area, and Sky couldn’t hold back the gasp when he saw a big creature with tentacles jutting out all over its body. Sky narrowed his burning eyes and saw that one of the tentacles was wrapped around something.

Twilight.

Sky felt fear burst through his chest, not knowing if Twilight was conscious, unconscious, or worse. He turned to the zora and gestured for her to stay.

“You want me to stay?” She asked.

Sky nodded.

“Alright, be very careful.”

Sky nodded again and swam as fast as he could to Twilight, but also as quietly as he could. The monster wasn’t moving, so he assumed that it was asleep, and he did not want to wake it up. Sky carefully went up the tentacle that held Twilight, and he felt relief when he saw the mask on his face, meaning (he hoped) that he was still getting air. But his relief quickly melted away when he noticed that Twilight was unconscious. He went up to his and cupped his face in his hands.

Twilight, please open your eyes, he thought to himself, wishing he could say it. Twilight made a strained face, and his eyes began to open. Sky’s fear quickly disappeared when he saw Twilight’s pale blue eyes looking back at him in shock. Sky smiled, then began to observe the situation. Twilight was unable to move in the tentacle he was trapped in. His legs were free, but his arms were trapped, pinning them to his sides. Sky watched Twi try to struggle, but the monster’s tentacles were too strong. Sky dove down deeper, observing the tentacles. He didn’t want to wake up the monster, but he had to get the tentacles to let him go. Sky gently stroked the tentacle, and it squirmed a bit. Sky panicked, but he saw that Twilight was able to get an arm free, and the monster stayed dormant. Sky and Twi made eye contact and they both nodded. Sky continued to pet the tentacles, feeling nauseous at how slimy they were. They squirmed, and Twi was able to get his other free. Sky smiled at Twilight, until an ear piercing screech rang out, shaking the whole building. Sky looked behind him and saw the zora he rescued swimming out in the middle, smiling maliciously at Sky. The zora suddenly melted into strange goop, the stuff floating in the water, and realization hit Sky. Was this a trap set by the puppeteer? Anger boiled in Sky’s chest, but the situation returned to him when there was quick movement besides him. The monster holding Twi stirred, and Sky watched the rancher struggle as the tentacles tightened around his waist. Twilight yelped as he was then dragged through the water, along with the rest of the monster that began to circle around Sky.

Panic surged through Sky when he saw the round mouth full of pointy teeth snarl at him. This thing was not Tentalus. Sky didn’t even know where to begin on fighting it. A tentacle almost hit Sky in the head, and he dove down to get lower, feeling the air beginning to thin out. He looked around for different air bubbles, then at Twilight, who was struggling against the tentacle that continued to squeeze.

Fighting was out of the question. He needed to get this thing to let go of Twilight, then they could escape. Saving a zora was out of the question since the zora was a fake, so all he had to focus on was Twi. An air bubble appeared in front of Sky, and he quickly grabbed it, filling the scale with air again. He eyed the tentacle holding Twi, and tore through the water, dashing as hard as he could into the tentacle. The creature shrieked, tentacles whipping around sporadically. Sky dodged them and rammed into the tentacle again, and again, and again. Sky looked up and saw that Twi was slipping free. Determination flew through Sky and he rammed into the tentacle again, ignoring how the air was beginning to run out. Twi miraculously slipped free from the tentacles, and Sky felt relieved. Now they could finally get out of here. But before Sky could try to swim away, a tentacle slammed into him, and he crashed into the wall. The dragon scale popped out of his mouth, and he involuntarily swallowed water. Sky felt his heart spike as he realized that he had no air, and no way to get air unless he broke the surface. Twilight dove for Sky, grabbing and dragging him through the water. The tentacles made a hole in the wall, and Twilight kicked his legs as hard as he could, dragging Sky through the hole. The monster roared as the two heroes fled, debris from the sunken castle threatening to crush them, but Twi dodged it all, swimming surprisingly fast for dragging Sky.

The hero of skies tried to avoid unnecessary movement, knowing that if he stayed still, then he would be able to preserve oxygen. But he couldn’t help but try to ease the strain that Twi was going through. Sky looked up at the surface, desperation for air clawing at his burning lungs, and he kicked his legs a little more frantically. Twi looked down at him in worry, trying to go faster, but darkness was already entering Sky’s vision. Bubbles escaped his mouth as it became unbearable, but all Sky could do was to kick helplessly. Finally, unconsciousness overcame him, and for a moment, all Sky could feel was peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sky opened his eyes, all he could see was darkness.

Where am I? He thought to himself, trying to move his hand to his aching head, but he felt impossibly heavy. It felt as if all energy was sapped right out of him, and he almost wanted to go back to sleep, but something kept him from doing so.

Am I dead? Was his first thought. He didn’t know why it came to mind, but he tried to remember all that happened before. He had to save Twi, there was a monster, they were in water… did he drown? Sky groaned as he tried to sit up, but he had no strength, and a sudden cough assaulted him.

“Sky!”

Sky opened his eyes and was surprised to see Warriors sitting over him. Panic surged through Sky. Did he dream the whole thing? No, no that’s ridiculous he couldn’t have.

“Sky? Are you ok?”

“Wh—where’s Twi?” He croaked, his voice sounding like it hadn’t been used in weeks.

Warriors looked to his side, and Sky noticed Twi curled up and asleep. Relief swept through Sky and he laid back down. So it definitely wasn’t a dream.

“I was worried when Twi came up with you unconscious. Luckily you turned out fine.”

Sky gave a small smile.

“Twi was worried too. He would’ve stayed up with me but… well he’s hurt pretty badly, he needed the rest.”

Sky’s smile melted into a frown.

“How badly?” He asked.

“I think he may have a cracked rib, and his arms are badly bruised,” Warriors explained.

From the tentacles I presume, Sky thought to himself. “Is he ok?”

“Much better than you. How are you feeling?”

“Bleh,” was all Sky was able to say, and Warriors chuckled. “The stupid puppeteer faked the zora kidnapping story.”

“So I’ve heard. He’s done nothing but cause trouble for us, he almost killed you and Twi. But you’re awake now, so we should be fine.

The hero of skies stared ahead. He was awake now, but he learned from experience that almost drowning can do a lot to you. When he had to find the tadpoles for Faron’s challenge to prove that he was the hero, he ended up drowning. If not for Groose who launched himself to the flooded woods, he would’ve probably been dead. And if not for his knowledge of pneumonia, he would’ve died a lot later. Sky groaned. Having to lay in bed while dealing with pneumonia was awful, he didn’t want to experience that again. But unfortunately, the feeling in his lungs and body said otherwise.

“Wait, Warriors,” Sky called out, almost coughing right then and there. Warriors looked at him earnestly. “Do you… do you know anything about pneumonia?”

Warriors frowned, but realization hit his face. “Oh, yes I do, are you ok?”

“I don’t know but, I might have that….”

Warriors rested his hand on Sky’s shoulder. “It’s ok, you boys did the hard work, now let me take care of you.”

Sky smiled and put his hand on top of Warriors with a nod.

“Thanks commander,” he said, before drifting off again.

#ugh just freaking take it I don’t wanna look at it anymore #lol #anyways I’ve been loving the dynamic between sky and Twi #like they’re both the same-ish age so #I think they’d be a really fun duo #not a lot of it here but yeah #also more out of context stuff for lbl :D #who is the puppeteer you ask?#you’ll see ~#smiles writes #link between links #lbl Sky #lbl twi #lbl warriors #whumptober #whumptober 2023 #whumptober day 14

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