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pseudowho · 4 months

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Grandpapamin

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

When Nanami Kento becomes a grandfather...

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Kento thought the happiest day of his life was when he became a father...but then, his baby had a baby.

It was like love...squared.

He and you dutifully took care of your daughter's house while she was in labour. Kento pruned the plants, and baked, and paced, and paced, and paced.

While Kento knew in his heart his daughter was being well cared-for, he felt stunningly unable to protect her while she went through the biggest day of her life.

In the night, you woke, and your hand brushed out across the sheets for Kento...only to find him not there.

You creep through the house, and find him sat in the armchair by lamplight, his eyes glistening with tears as he goes through an old box, full of photographs of his baby, little onesies, a handprint in clay, a decoration she made at school, her first drawings and handwriting.

You sit with him, in front of the fire, warm and reminiscent, of those long-short years when your babies were babies.

"...she'll be alright?" He worries aloud.

"She'll be more than alright. She'll be amazing," you reassure, kissing his greying temples, stroking crow's feet.

You lead him back to bed, his hand dry, like soft warm leather, and you hold each other with the earnest familiarity of an aged love.

When Kento's phone rings at 7:37 in the morning, a time he never forgets, he is out of bed with a lithe hop, answering, desperate for news.

A sweet, swooping joy, an excited wake-up, an embrace and relief; his grandchild is born, and everyone is safe.

Kento has a grandson; his daughter is resplendent, pink-cheeked, exhausted and proud. Kento holds her close, shedding tears into her hair as she cradles his new grandson; "I'm so proud of you, darling. I always have been. You deserve him."

He drives his daughter and her partner home, knowing they are exhausted.

Kento and you never overstay your welcome; you ensure the new family is comfortable, give kisses and hasty reassurances that you are both just a phone call away, and go home.

Kento cannot stop jiggling his leg in delight on the way home. He is imagining all the wonderful things he wants to do with his new grandson.

Kento calls everyone-- Gojo, Yuuji, Ino, Higuruma. Everyone is delighted. Everyone secretly wants him to be their grandfather.

It is only when Kento and you have gone, that your partner opens the freezer-- "Oh my god!" They exclaim, laughing, "I think your dad has cooked enough to last us a month!" Kento has, obviously. He believes in being organised.

Kento spends the next few years of his life being a thoroughly naughty responsible grandfather.

Visiting Grandpapamin? Oh, only the finest will do.

While Kento always plans wonderful meals with you, his daughter turns her back for just one minute, and returns to find her son with a treat in his hand.

Kento pleads ignorance as he slides the biscuit tin back into the cupboard, a glint in his eye.

Wickedly good at hide and seek. Teaches his grandson all the tricks.

Takes his grandson down to the river, Kento in some waders, his grandson in shorts and rubber boots up to his knees, with little nets, glass jars on strings.

Kento has a reference book for everything; birds, fish, flowers, trees...he and his grandson catch minnows, his grandson splashing, holding his little round cheeks in joy.

Kento thinks his heart might burst, retaliating playfully when his grandson splashes him, giggling.

Kento's grandson is well-versed on the flora and fauna by the little river, by the time he is a grown man. All he wanted to inherit from his grandfather was the old reference books they pored over together.

His grandson inherits Kento's Cursed-sight too, a truth which Kento feels deeply responsible for, as he did when it passed down to his daughter. He fears for his grandson and the terrifying visions he will see in the world.

One day, you catch Kento teaching himself little magic tricks. He curses as he gets tangled in long colourful handkerchiefs; you laugh and blush as he pulls garish flowers out of his sleeve for you. He shows them to his grandson like he has known how to do magic his whole life.

After long sunny days in the garden and by the river, you often find Kento asleep with his snoozing grandson drooling on his chest. You take a photo, every single time, put a blanket over them and leave them in peace.

Kento, who tucks you under his arm on the sofa when they've all gone home, your evenings as intimate as they have always been.

Kento would rather his daughter didn't spend all of her hard-earned money on daycare. Instead, Grandpapamin arrives at her house at 7:30am sharp, ready to babysit ahead of the workday.

The days are silly, wholesome. Tears and tantrums are swiftly, calmly de-escalated. Kento can and will persuade and bribe at mealtimes.

Kento who is just disappointed when his grandson behaves badly-- and that is so much worse than angry.

Kento who takes such good care of his and your health, determined to spend as many healthy years with his family as possible. His old scars ache and creak though; he longs for the sun and sea.

The next year, his grandson is big enough to carry Kento's birthday cake to him, and Kento grumbles, pink-eared as he mulishly accepts a chorus of "Happy birthday". There is an envelope with the cake.

"What's this?" He grumbles again, shooting his daughter a chastising look, "I told you you didn't have to get me anything." She smiles at him, lovely brown eyes twinkling. Kento looks inside-- tickets. Flight tickets. He looks up in surprise, eyebrows raised.

"Kuantan?" He presses, excited despite his earlier chastisement.

"I thought we could all go. Together."

Though his blade hangs up on the wall, proud and displayed, at your insistence, Kento feels like he has been bestowed with the luck of the gods, to have dodged every bullet to get here.

His old scarred burns tingle and prickle, his eyepatch is old and worn, but his grandchildren never feared him; he is just Grandpapamin. He bakes. He takes them to the river. He teaches them how to whittle. He gives the best advice. He wears the softest cardigans.

Kento, who spends the golden years of his life with you, his world, the one who hung the stars.

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #kento nanami x y/n #jujustu kaisen #kento nanami x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you

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comfortless · 4 months

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Deep Water

nix! König x fem! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. no.. intentional harm done to reader but there are sporadic mentions of murder (drowning), König is kind of a creep here do you guys forgive me (say yes), implied sex; dubcon everything. König is wearing a fishing net rather than the usual hood because. it made sense to me sorry.

notes: yet again, i have found that i can not manage to write anything except for silly fantasy nonsense… bear with me this will pass (it will not). if you’re uncertain of what a nix is, i recommend skimming over this (or tl;dr— a shapeshifting water spirit).

You’ve always been told to beware of the river, especially on nights like this. When the singing starts up you were to run, as far and as fast as your feet could carry you. It would be the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, as well as the last. Whatever beast lies in wait along the silt of the riverbed luring people in with its haunting song isn’t kind. The drowned bodies resurfacing bloated and paled are enough for the townsfolk to assume that assuredly, a monster lies in wait someplace within the glassy water.

For all of the fear, town myths were just that— myths.

As always, there’s no singing when you seat yourself on smooth, mossy stones by the river’s bank. The moon hangs low, casting its brilliant reflection on calm, dark water. The air is alive with the buzzing of cicadas clinging to the trees at your back and night birds calling out to the wind. Nothing is amiss; it’s only peaceful, and that’s why despite the warnings, you often find yourself here when the temperature is favorable.

There are nights when the river isn’t calm, and currents are the most reliable reasoning for the deaths from past summers. The water is full of large rocks with sharp corners, teeming with plants that could so easily snare an ankle, and when the water is frothing and cruel it’s no surprise that one could be thrashed to unconsciousness if they weren’t careful.

You didn’t come here to take your chances on swimming, anyhow.

If anything, it’s a mere reprieve from the bustle of the town. No one wanders here any more since the myths gained traction, passed from mouth to listening ears time and time again, leaving this place entirely untouched. Occasionally the obnoxious teenager would cross your path on the walk here, declaring loudly to their friends about how they supposedly saw some slimy beast, eyes like moonbeams and scales like razors lying on the bank.

During your little adventures here, you often carry a snack with you, but not for yourself. Tonight, it’s just a small package of vanilla flavored cookies. In truth, they were awful— dry and near flavorless, but you suspect your friend here wouldn’t mind too terribly much, and if it got them out of your pantry without wasting it was a win for the both of you.

When the large dorsal fin crests over the water mere meters from the bank, you gratuitously crush the treats in a closed fist and toss the crumbs into the water. Time and time again, you’ve fed the large animal, watching as it thrashes about just below the surface before disappearing back into its depths. You’ve never gotten a good look at it, either, but you imagine it must stretch out past your height or further; some sort of gar or sturgeon.

Just as many times before, it glides further in, fin entirely out of sight now. The only evidence of it ever appearing at all were the small waves rippling in its wake. All is quieted once more as you embrace the placid bliss, readying your small flashlight and losing yourself into the book perched in your lap.

The next night, you’re greeted by a large snake basking over the rock you typically sat upon. It lies still, coiled into itself as it regards you, forked tongue flicking out for several moments before it simply slithers off, hiding itself away beneath the moss and stone.

“Best to leave you alone, huh?,” you ask to it’s retreating tail, feeling a bit silly for speaking to the reptile at all. It doesn’t respond, of course, nor does it bother to come out of hiding either.

You opt to seat yourself on the hill overlooking the water instead.

You find that after a day occupied by tedious tasks, there truly was no greater place to abandon your woes than here. Everything was peaceful; wild yet simplistic. Even with all of the death that seemed to haunt this place, you never feared the thought of ghosts. You’ve even entertained your imagination a time or two, that if you ever did meet one, you would only ask it not to disturb the wildlife you have grown so fond.

There’s a freedom and a mystery to places like this, places without the foot traffic of other people. It brings with it a sense of whimsy, especially when you glance towards the water and see the surface reflecting every twinkling star above.

The fish doesn’t appear, even as you listen to the water in wait, your head tilted as you lie back on soft grass to watch for ripples, for the swell of a large fin moving beneath. Nothing. You read your book as the night progresses, nearly completing it entirely before you make your way back home.

Weeks pass by like this— work, river, home and repeat. Occasionally it’s the same large snake that greets you when you wander there, more often it’s the large fish circling about waiting for crumbs of whatever treat you choose to bring. The bank and the small hill overlooking it have become a separate home to you, one where you can be away with the fairies, talking to your animal friends that never seem to stick around for long.

When the weather grows warmer, you even dare to take a swim.

You’re stood on the slick stones of the bank, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. It’s not proper swimming attire, but you reason that you’re not at the beach, not a soul is around, and it doesn’t really matter at all that you might look a bit silly. The prospect of swimming along that behemoth below is a tad terrifying, but you wouldn’t dare to wander too far in. Maybe the fish would even be intelligent enough to not attempt to eat you after you’ve been so kind to it.

It’s hot, and with a sticky layer of sweat glossing your skin, your worries seem minuscule in light of an easy way of cooling off. You toe at the calm water for a moment, testing its temperature before willing yourself to take a step forward, then another before you seat yourself in the vibrant expanse of darkened blue. Here, you realize, is the best place to stargaze, too; they shimmer all around you, within reach as you tap at the surface of water, watching it undulate beneath the pressure of your fingertips.

You could reach the moon, too, if you swam further out. A few meters from the bank and you would be directly beneath its reflection, bathed in that ethereal glow.

You watch for your friend for a time, trying to prioritize your wariness over your whimsy. When the fish doesn’t tread by you, the water remaining calm, you rise to your feet and take slow, metered steps as the water parts and flows against your shins.

Though the river is disturbed no matter how gently you stride forward, nothing slides out from its depths in pursuit of you. Nothing happens at all when you reach out to splay your hand out against the reflection, the water now gently lapping against your stomach rather than your legs.

You hadn’t expected any sort of shift in your reality, that would be ridiculous, but perhaps some sort of clarity; a further calm for a weary mind. It doesn’t come, and with a disheartened splash you wade your way back towards the shore.

This has been your sanctuary for some time. Excusing the snake, there’s not been any sort of threat to you, not here. A safe water world all your own. Though, that peace is shattered the moment that you make it to the bank and hear the water shift some small distance behind you. Turning your head, you’re met with the sight of a man, the bulky muscular silhouette towering in the patch of moonlight you had just stood in. Bright blue eyes catch the light, reflecting like an animal’s as you scramble back to where you’ve left your shorts.

He stands there, silent and unmoving like an obelisk even as you hastily dress yourself with a thundering heart and breaths that sound more or less like gasps, senses heightened by your panic as you turn tail to run.

No one had been there. You were sure of it when you sunk into the water. There was no sound when this person had swam over to take your place. He was just there, as if he had been the entire time and you somehow failed to notice.

You make your way into the woods framing this place, hurried steps and untied shoelaces. You don’t even bother with your flashlight.

Finding your way back home with aches in every muscle, the desperate rampage you had taken to get away finally coming to a close when the door slams shut behind you, you quickly shower and mull over what’s just happened. A ghost, perhaps. It had to of been. Any other person would have made noise in their approach, especially being that big. The mind could play its tricks; what you had seen was likely not even there at all— a terrifying figment of your imagination. That sets you at ease, somewhat, but not enough.

You don’t sleep well that night, tucked beneath your blanket and staring at the filtered moonlight through your curtains. Work isn’t on your mind at all come morning until your phone chimes with a notification from your manager, questioning your tardiness. A languid crawl out of bed follows, another shower, an unsatisfying breakfast, all before you opt to send a text back to let him know you won’t be in today.

It could be excused, you’re reliable and decent enough at the job; not one to boast, but far more eager to please than the rest of your coworkers. You would be entirely useless if you went in on no sleep, you reason.

You don’t want to go back there, not under the veil of night, but you find yourself horribly curious the longer that you bide your time indoors. You had to know if the thing that you saw was really there, had to calm your nerves. What if he had always been watching each time, and you simply hadn’t noticed? The forest bordering the river is terribly dark at night, anyone could crouch behind the shield of a tree and remain undetected until they willed the courage to drag you in, cup a palm over your mouth to silence your cries.

Maybe it was the monster the people in town rumored about.

The thought of some strange, silent thing living beneath the water waiting for an opportune moment to take you by the neck and drag you down to the silty floor to watch you drown horrified you. Yet, that’s the one conclusion that sticks. Those eyes… so lurid and haunting, no human being had eyes like that.

You inhale sharply, steeling your nerves as reach for a pocket knife for defense, toss it into the bag slung over your shoulder, and storm out the door.

The trek there is nothing short of dull.

No matter where you look, what shadows rise up beneath the dim glow of a falling sun, there’s nothing out in the woods. The river is equally tame. The water babbles over rock, cicadas buzz off in the distance, and not a thing seems amiss. Your search for footprints that don’t belong to the soles of your shoes turns up empty. The only thing that suggests just maybe it wasn’t all in your head is the book you had neglected to retrieve in your fear the night before.

The cover, every page within, now warped as though it had been pulled into the water and spit out to dry. You pick it up, peeling through damp pages, running your fingertips over the smeared ink. It’s possible that a particularly aggressive splash could have sullied it, but something tells you that that isn’t the case. Either way, it’s unreadable now. You sulk a bit as you slip the ruined thing into your bag and step towards the smooth stones to watch the water instead.

Night creeps in slowly with you there, and you’re on high alert for a time before you begin to relax as usual. Even giggle to yourself at how silly it was you believed you saw a ghost at all as you entertain yourself by skipping small stones across the water.

No large snake, no massive fish, no titan of a man appears before you, only a calming crescent moon and a few wandering wood ducks, gliding down from the bank to splash about. A thought comes to mind as the calm emboldens you: what would happen if you got in just one more time?

There’s nothing to suggest that you’re playing with fire as you leave your shoes neatly in the dry sand. If the ducks could swim unbothered by fish or men, then surely you could, too. You watch the little creatures a distance away as they dip their heads beneath the surface and chitter away amongst themselves while you take your first step in.

You don’t dare to go as far this time, stopping when the water brushes over your knees. You wait there while time seems to slow to a crawl, expecting the absolute worst, glancing further down the river, dipping your hand below the glassy surface until your fingertips brush the sand beneath.

It’s horribly hot and you’re still exhausted from the sleepless night before. The water feels nice, and you feel as though you have some sort of claim to it as you’ve been here more often than anyone else would dare to. Ghosts and monsters be damned, you seat yourself and let the water lap over your shoulders, tilting your head back to watch the stars.

When the singing begins it takes a moment to register just what it is that you’re hearing. It’s not beautiful, not like the myths have said. It’s hissed, a low whisper, a mockery of what a human song would sound like. The voice is rasped, lilted yet cold. The realization that it sings words from your book of poetry is what terrifies you the most, the warped pages all making sense now.

Your eyes dart to either side of you, forward, before realizing the voice is coming from behind you. Cold spreads through your veins as you try to force yourself to stand, but in your fear you find yourself petrified, rooted in water that would surely become your grave.

You can’t bring yourself to turn around, to inevitably find your eyes locked onto the shadowy frame of a man far too large, his eyes glistening and pale like the moon hanging above.

The voice pauses when it finds you unmoving, and you can hear the rustle of the creature shifting its weight where it’s stood on the rocks lining the bank. You’ve no clue how deep the river gets, where the opposite side leads, but your only chance of escape seems to be swimming through in the hopes that this thing doesn’t choose to chase after you. A part of you knows that he would, that that is exactly what he expects you to do, goading you to flee deeper with his eerie song so that he can drown you just as he did the others.

You do the opposite as you squeeze your eyes shut and crawl back towards the bank, making sure to keep some distance despite your willful blindness. You wouldn’t look at it, wouldn’t talk to it, you would just go home and never come back.

“Best to leave you alone, hm?”

You still as your fingers brush against wet moss, the voice no longer a whisper but loud, loud as it echoes your words from days past just above you. Beating back your own curiosity proves futile, because you look up at the damned thing then, expecting to see an impossible terror before you, sharp fangs wet with blood and appendages too spindly reaching out for you. Instead, you see only a man.

He’s crouched, only a meter or so away, and you immediately recognize his broad figure. The same as the night before. From this distance you can make out the finer details, the length of net covering his face and neck, the webbing between each finger. Still a scary sight, but only in the way it’s unfamiliar and imposing rather than instilling any sort of primordial fear.

“Excuse me?” You pull yourself fully out of the water, rising to your feet and taking a tentative step back. You’re prepared to run, a coil pulled too tight on the verge of snapping.

The man, creature, whatever he may be just tilts his head, lets the silence hang in the air for a moment before he has the audacity to laugh whether to himself or at the strange, bewildered expression on your face.

His stare is assessing as he sucks in a breath, follows suit in rising to his full height. From the size of him alone, you know you’re not getting away. A mere stride for him would be two or more for you, a deliberate tug of your wrist from him could snap it in an instant.

Yet, he doesn’t reach for you, only gestures toward your bag lying on the ground with a subtle flick of a finger. You give him a quizzical glance in turn, not bothering to retrieve it. You could come back during the day with a friend, gather it and never return. Only, your knife sits somewhere inside, the only protection that you’ve got. The realization spurs you to bend over and toss the strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll… I’ll be going now.”

The stare remains fixed upon you as you take another step back, blinking slowly every now and then as you both remain in some strange stasis.

It takes you a moment to put the pieces together. The reciting of words from the book, the mimicking of the words spoken to the snake, the hint at your bag… he’s expecting something and it’s not to steal away your life, only to be fed and have your company. It’s not charming, it’s awfully strange and eerie, but you find yourself giggling at the prospect of taming some murderous, shapeshifting monster with subpar treats and poetry.

You pull open the bag, searching for anything you may have brought along that he could eat, eventually prying out a small package and offering it out to him.

“Is this what you want?,” you ask, voice hushed and trembling.

He shakes his head, rustling the net cloaking him in the process. So, he understands, he’s just been willfully ignoring every other thing you’ve said prior. You store the package away with a perturbed expression crossing over your face.

“Then what?”

Any relief you had felt seems to dwindle when the giant takes a half-step closer. His skin is cool and wet as the river as he brushes his hand over your forearm, curling a set of fingers around it. The touch is gentle, but there’s a promise of violence lurking somewhere in the depths of his eyes.

“Come with me,” he urges in that harsh whisper from before, delicately squeezing as he pulls you towards him, leading you back to the river with a tight grip and a step back over the stones. Though his touch is passive, there’s a frightening strength lurking someplace beneath his flesh, tacked to bone, and as your gaze trails lower to rest to rest at your feet, the space between you two, the evidence of a life prone to violence and strength is laid bare before you.

You don’t fight the hold as he leads you to water so deep it caresses the base of your neck, right below the milky glow of a waning moon. Deeper still, as you’re pulled below, pressed down to the very bottom with his body lain over you. You can only hold your breath so long before an involuntary gasp leaves you, and a wave is funneled straight into your lungs.

Panic is fleeting, but the adrenaline stays ever-present. You claw, push, kick, to no avail. Pinned down by a hand weighing like an anchor you feel your vision flooding and hazy as his head knocks against your jaw, mouth sealing tightly over yours. It’s not a gentle kiss, the net fashioned into a hood digs into your skin, teeth scrape over your lip until you feel the sting of blood drawn.

All at once, your vision darkens and it’s over.

You find yourself lying back on the shore as the morning sun warms your face, causes your dampened shirt to cling to your skin. Disoriented, but alive, brushing your thumb over your lower lip as you sit up to stare at the subtle waves lapping over moss and rock.

Just a dream, you tell yourself, knowing full well you hadn’t fallen asleep.

Just a dream, even though you avoid the river entirely now. Your route home from work changes too, avoiding even a glimpse of the path that leads down to that place. You don’t even replace the book, you toss what remains of it after fishing through your bag, murmuring something about it surely being cursed and entertain yourself with film at night instead.

Sleep remains tentative, you wake with every sound, and your dreaming is filled with visions of a figure pushing you down into deep water, his weight bearing down upon you so heavily that you can not move until you wake with a start, eyes searching your bedroom.

Several weeks, and the fear does eventually fade.

The morning that the rain begins to fall, you realize you haven’t even thought about the river in days. There’s no monster prowling your nightmares anymore. You lived through what may or may not have occurred, and that was the end of it, simple as it may have been.

A late shift at work has you wandering out into the rain, umbrella in hand. You’re grateful that you live close, that you’re not entirely soaked to the bone when you step inside of the mundane building. Your coworkers notice your change in demeanor immediately, chirping about how glad they are that you’re finally feeling better, looking more yourself as the hours pass you by. It brings a smile to your face, a real one that you haven’t had in place since that last night.

Even in the summer, there’s a chill to the air in the late afternoon as you hurry home from work and make your way inside, stripping out of your wet clothes and setting your umbrella aside. It’s darker outside than it should be, even more so indoors. Reaching for the switch to turn on the lights proves useless— the power’s out.

You light your way with your phone, ignoring the way your pulse quickens and your heart flutters with the fear that something just doesn’t feel right. Your skin prickles with the thought of some unseen pair of eyes watching you, blue and cold. You only relax when you slam your bedroom door shut, locking it and pressing your forehead to the wood as you sigh. The puff of breath that escapes your lips is not the only in the room, you find out when the light of your phone illuminated your bed. Crouched beside it, a towering figure with a face veiled by fishing net. Words don’t come when you open your mouth to speak, and your heart stutters in your chest as you stand shaking but otherwise petrified.

“You didn’t come back.”

Of course you hadn’t.

Most people wouldn’t have.

“No. I’ve been… busy,” you choke out the excuse, hoping to pacify whatever emotion you imagine lurked beneath his tone, undetectable through the hiss of his voice. “I’ll visit soon, promise,” you lie, back pressed against the door as your fingers curl over the knob.

Your fear seems almost unwarranted. He doesn’t move toward you, only stands to wander back to the window where he must have broken in.

“Tonight?,” he asks in a voice so soft, the voice he must use as a lure because tugs at your heartstrings immediately, makes you want to follow despite the threat this thing poses merely by existing, despite everything.

“It’s cold— I’ll get sick,” you murmur. “How did you even find me..?”

“I will keep you warm.” The question goes unanswered.

You find yourself stifled again as he lumbers towards you, brushing cold fingers across the side of your face. It’s not a mockery of a kiss you receive next but a firm bite where your neck meets shoulder, not yet hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make you shiver, to grip at the wall of muscle that makes up his chest.

There’s a desperation to his movements as he herds you towards the window, pushes you toward the path leading back to the river. You’re soaked to the bone in seconds, hardly able to keep your eyes open past the weight of dampened eyelashes. The rain is so heavy it feels as though every step is like the first you took into cursed water, your feet sinking into the mud along the path with each tentative stride. The realization that you’re there doesn’t even hit you until you’re chest-deep in the chill, violent waves pushing against you, each carrying the threat of toppling you over entirely.

The palm splayed out against your bare back keeps you upright, leading you to a smooth rock jutting out in the midst of what seems a sea of frothing white and blue. The sea above is just as dark, angry clouds roaring as you’re pressed down onto your back, shivering terribly.

He keeps his promise though, a tight grip on each thigh as he pries your legs apart, sinks in between them and blankets you from the rain. Even with the cold pressed to your back, you feel the warmth of a summer sun above you, scorching from inside, just as blazing as the look in his wild eyes. The last of any resolve slips when you’re pulled beneath the violent waves, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses coaxing oxygen into your lungs. Each roll and pull no less tumultuous than the waves overhead. A placid end when the rain comes to an impromptu halt, just as he stills over you. Hands rush to cup your face with one final, desperate and biting kiss.

When the morning sun pulls you from sleep, cool moss against your back and the weight of his head resting over your middle, the shallow water lapping lazily at your figure, you find that you no longer fear drowning.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #könig #konig #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #konig fanfiction #i have been mulling over this for an eternity sorry it needed to be extracted from my brain #he is absolutely more lycanthrope coded to me but whoosh whatever nix König be upon ye #also apologies to everyone for not writing much lately and the fact this is hardly a real fic #cursed by the sleepy i just need a 10yr long nap #<- in my ‘in denial about burnout’ era

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sinfullyrosey · 4 months

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(Pussy) Slappin’ Them Fins

Floyd & Jade Leech X GN!Reader

Warnings: Dubcon, Bondage (technically), Fingering, Pussy Slapping, Forced Orgasms, Dom!Reader (again technically), The Twins got Pussies

I’m uno reverse carding all those reader insert fics where the Reader gets violated by the tweels by having Reader violate them.

You’re welcome.

All Characters are 18+

Going to the beach with the Leech twins after they managed to convince (note: threaten) you wasn’t looking so bad right about now. The weather was actually rather sunny and nice, not to hot nor too windy. It was the perfect time to take a dip in the sea, maybe built a sandcastle or two and collect some seashells.

But it was neither of these reasons that changed your mind on the whole matter. Rather, it was the sight you found after taking a brief nap and finding the twins missing. You had called out to them, only to be met with silence. It wasn’t until wandering around a bit more and picking up distant sounds of chirps and gurgles growls that you followed to a hidden rock pool, where you proceeded to find the two missing brothers in their eel forms.

They had managed to get themselves ensnared in a fishing net, something only squabbling, little elvers would manage to get themselves into, yet here they are. You don’t know how they got like this nor did you care.

It was probably Floyd’s fault anyways, the troublemaker.

You decided to stand back to see if they needed any help. You noted that both were stuck in the rocky area but were still slightly submerged in the water, so no risk of drying out or drowning, thankfully. The net had wrapped itself around their tails, torsos, and heads, but didn’t seem to be constricting any vital areas, just kept them in place and prevented them from moving around as freely. They did appear to try and cut the rope with their claws and teeth, but to no avail.

Maybe the nets were merfolk proof? Would make sense as you could picture these two, specifically, stealing some poor fisherman’s catch by cutting the nets and snatching the fish for themselves. Still doesn’t explain why it’s on the beach though. Washed up on shore perhaps? Bet Floyd tried throwing it at Jade as a prank and only got them both trapped.

Probably. Most definitely.

Actually… now that you think about it, this is the first time we’ve ever seen either in such a situation, so now you had the perfect opportunity to get a better look at their merforms without the fear of them trying to drown or bite you…

Hm.

You had always been curious about their anatomy and how it varied from humans’. Specifically, you were curious about the slits located lower on their bodies. They didn’t have any visible genitalia, and yet, had that thin line near where one’s genitals would be.

The twins have never respected your own personal space before and had even poked and prodded at you while swimming and vulnerable, trying to get a peek or two. "They were only curious." they would say. "Just wanted to learn how you and they differed." they claimed.

Well, you were just as curious, and they were just as vulnerable in this moment. So, why not do some prodding of your own?

You approached the tangled twins, eyeing them, looking for that special spot on them. Floyd was a lot more tangled up than Jade, having struggled more fiercely due to hating being restrained. He was huffing and snorting in his native tongue, spitting sounds you could only surmise to be swears. Jade, in contrast, was more calm and calculating, trying to keep the struggling to a minimal as his brother’s movements only served to tighten the ropes around both of them even more.

He looked at you with a hint of relief and slight sheepishness, knowing how unbecoming the two of them look to you, but believing you were there to (begrudgingly) help them. After all, you were always cleaning up NRC’s messes and aiding other students without anything in return. It was just rather embarrassing that this was the situation they needed your help in.

You bent down next to them, seemingly looking for where best to cut or unravel the net. At least, that’s what they thought you were doing.

You gently placed your hand onto Jade’s tail, making his pupils dilate then constrict down to slits in response. He stiffened and followed your movements. Searching. Getting closer. Then you did the same to Floyd, who jumped and flopped his tail when he felt something suddenly touch him in his already volatile state. Both twins were watching you now, following along to where your hands were wandering to.

Mismatched eyes leered as both hands landed right next to a pair of thin, almost unnoticeable lines. Neither move as you studied the spots curiously, fingertips softly pressing down on the surrounding area. Floyd’s tail tip lashed agitatedly back and forth as you continued your prodding.

It wasn’t until you carefully used your fingers to spread open Jade’s slit slightly that the two finally had enough and attempted to strike.

The two tried snapping at you with razor sharp teeth, but the nets held them back, acting as a makeshift muzzle they had issues biting into. This sudden movement from both of them startled you back, but also managed to tighten the net around them enough that neither could barely move.

The ropes dug into their scales, not enough to cut through, but enough to hurt and squeeze those diamond-shaped patterns into their slippery bodies. Floyd began thrashing again but stopped, finally, when Jade bellowed out a gargled snarl at him.

You surmise he told him to stop as his struggling is what was tightening their binds and would only make things worse for them. Both huffed and turned their attention back to you, still gazing down at them.

They were completely at your mercy now.

Too bad you didn’t have any left to give.

Your fingers went back to grazing along the thin slits, making Jade jolt and trying to carefully curl his body away, but couldn’t. Your other hand did the same with Floyd’s earning much of the same results from the twin. You continued your exploration, finger pads feeling the smooth slickness of their openings.

Both twins were tensing up at your prodding, quiet, throaty gargles and hisses escaping passed their lips as you rubbed circles against their sensitive entrances. Both were starting to open up more under your treatment and even leak this clear, sticky liquid. Honestly, you were expecting to see two long cocks slip out, but no, this was all they had it would seem.

You smirked as the two troublesome twins became puddy in your hand, squirming and writhing as you worked at their aquatic pussies. The both of them were chirping up a storm, tails occasionally lightly thrashing in pleasure.

Your fingers slipped in with ease as you began to pump your fingers into them, feeling around along the entrance. The two started to croon and purr at the light intrusion. You chuckled to yourself as their walls squeezed around you, much like how their tails would around prey.

“Cute. Never seen either of you so docile before.” You teased.

That earned you a hiss and two squirmy eels trying once again to get out of their bindings and make you their shared chew toy, only for the cruel reminder to dig into their soft flesh once more.

But you weren’t having any of it and frowned.

It was Floyd’s attempt to lung at you through the net barrier against his brother’s warnings, that caused you to land a quick swat to his sensitive, little slit. The sharp and sudden pain made him yelp and yield back. You quirked a brow at the reaction and proceeded to swat at him again, harder. This time, he let out a gargled moan as his pussy twitched from the pain.

Huh. Interesting.

You turned your gaze over to Jade whose pupils were now blown wide as he stared you down, just daring you to try anything.

And try something you did.

Just like with his brother, your gentle touches turned into harsh slaps to his vulnerable pussy, earning you the same exact reaction out of Jade.

Oh.

Well now, this is interesting.

Without any warning, you proceeded to relentlessly slap both of their pussies with the palms of your hands, sending wave after pleasurable wave of pain straight to their core. Floyd and Jade could only squirm helplessly as their slits became more and more puffy and red from your spanks. They pleaded helplessly in their native tongue for you to stop or slow down and to just let them cum already, please.

Before long, both reached their peaks and crashed hard, their orgasms hitting simultaneously and sending them overboard. Their walls clenched around nothing; holes squirted out their messy juices as you continued to harshly slap them through their orgasms.

You finally relented when both twins gave out and slumped in their spots, trying to come down from their highs as their pussies fluttered and twitched. You chuckled at their blissed-out expressions, eyes nearly rolled back into their skulls and mouths hung wide open, panting and wheezing.

You hummed in satisfaction, gently patting both of their tails in praise.

“Aww, you both did so good and even came together like the good, little sea whores you are!” You chirped.

They only glared at you, but quickly lost any remaining malice and started chirping again when your fingers returned to rubbing at their entrances, once again breaching inward and pumping in and out of them at a slow pace. You chucked as their bodies resumed their needy squirming from before.

“Let’s see if mereels have a sweet spot too, hm?~”

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Smut #TWST #TWST Smut #Floyd Leech Smut #Floyd Leech X Reader #Jade Leech Smut #Jade Leech X Reader #GN!Reader #originally wrote this on my phone before transferring it to my laptop so it's barely proofread sorry

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 4 months

Text

Siren!Leon headcannons 🧜🏼‍♂️🐚

A/N: this was so much fun!!! I got a little carried away, but I feel there's still so much I could add here, so let me know if you want to see more! There's not smut in this one sadly, because um... idk.. how that would work?

~Fi 🐝

《Prompt》: lovely request by @maviettt is here!

《Warnings》: brief mentions of gore and Leon eating people, obessesive and possessive Leon, some angst, insecure Leon :(, lots of luv for the fish boy <3

《Word count》: 2.4k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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Siren!Leon, who spends his days luring all the pretty sailors to their demise, having himself a tasty meal of naivety and pure unawareness. I mean, what girl wouldn't be enarmoured with this handsome and so kind merman, right? With his blue, ocean eyes and shiny scales.

Siren!Leon, who lurs them in with promises of love and care, only to yank them into the deep sea and tear into them with his pointy teeth. He's not too fond of doing this, but he doesn't really have a choice, and you get hardened over the years.

Siren!Leon, who casually swims through a nearby Lagoon, catching a glimpse of you and your sisters lounging in the sun. You're laughing, and Leon swears that you're the Siren in this scenario. You look so pretty with your colorful, glittery tail. Your damp hair that's drying up from the salty water. The small trinkets braided into your locks and hung from your body.

Siren!Leon, who is always drawn back to this Lagoon, always wanting to see you again. He thinks you're a bright, shining pearl, and the world is your oyster. But he also understands that you're off limits to him. You would be scared of him, wouldn't you? You're such a pretty thing. His treasure.

Siren!Leon, who admires you from afar, always hoping to see you smile once again. He's infatuated with you. He's sighing dreamily when he sees you throw your head back in laughter or hiding your giggles behind your hand.

Siren!Leon, who looks for you after he hasn't seen you at the Lagoon for a while, only to find you washed up on the beach, all tangled up in a net. You look so... dry. The colors of your tail are dulled, and your skin doesn't look like it was kissed by the morning dew anymore.

Siren!Leon, who is so conflicted. He needs to help you, but what if he scares you? He doesn't want to risk that. You're the favorite part of his day! Alas, he relents and carefully swims up to you as close as he can before gently tugging you back into the water by your tail.

Siren!Leon, who holds you until you've gotten some of the ocean's energy into you. He can basically watch you flourish as you're returned to your home. But his heart breaks when you gain back consciousness and immediately try and get away from him.

Siren!Leon, who tries to explain to you that he just wants to help. You're still bound in the net, and you can't swim properly like this. You're obviously skeptical. Acting all kind and luring people in was kind of his deal as a Siren, after all. But there's something so soft about his voice and expressions.

Siren!Leon, who truly has no bad intentions, but he has to restrain himself from pouncing on you the second you give him the go-ahead to free you from the net with his sharp teeth.

Siren!Leon, who doesn't miss your blush, when his lips brush against your skin while he's chewing you out of your bounds. He can't help himself and grins, and accidentally bumps his lips against your scales more just to see you react.

Siren!Leon, who is quite flustered himself when you thank him and tell him that he's not as scary as you thought he would be. And when you tell him you like the color of his scales and his cute little fin ears, he is over the moon!!

Siren!Leon who tries to hide his malicious side from you as best as he can just because he is terrified that you would be scared of him. Maybe even disgusted. He doesn't want that.

Siren!Leon, who sees you wave to him on his usual morning round past the Lagoon, and he almost passes out. Yeah, he had saved you, but for you to so boldly be nice to him in front of your sisters? He's thinking of that for the rest of the day.

Siren!Leon, who gets bolder each day, waving back with a smile, maybe even greeting you and your sisters until he fully swims up to all of you! He's kinda crushed when your sisters scatter like little anchovies. He just wanted to say hi :(

Siren!Leon, who gets comforted and assured by you, saying that "they don't know you like I do." You explain how, although Leon is a Siren, he's so sweet! He saved you from certain death, after all.

Siren!Leon, who eventually gets taken in by your sisters, and he gets to lounge in the Lagoon with you. Some are still a little weary, but as time goes on, they all warm up to that smile and those pretty eyes.

Siren!Leon, who only has eyes for you. You are the sun in his sky, the moon that guides his tides. He's head over heels for you. It started off as forbidden glances, admiring your beauty, and now he is making you laugh and spending as much time with you as he can.

Siren!Leon, who knows you're falling for him too when you start bringing him little treasures and trinkets that you found. It's usually a shiny rock or a seashell, but sometimes you bring him valuable shinies from recent shipwrecks that you're not supposed to be around.

Siren!Leon, whose heart pumps out of his chest when he sees all your sisters nudging you in his direction with your hand behind your back and a red face. He revels in your cuteness when you shyly press the rock into his hand and speed off.

Siren!Leon, who starts calling you his treasure or his pearl. That's exactly what you are to him, and he needs the whole seven seas to know that. Plus, your pretty smile and the kiss to the cheek he gets from you after is a nice bonus.

Siren!Leon, who lets you decorate him and his tail when you run out of space on your own. You tie cloth and braided seaweed around his fin and arms, adding one of your little trinkets at the end. He wears them with pride because everyone knows they're from you.

Siren!Leon, who loves to braid your hair for you. You're always finding more pretty things to put in your hair, and you can't see the back, obviously, but he loves doing it for you. He gets so good to the point that he's doing all of your sisters' hair, too.

Siren!Leon, who rarely goes back to luring humans to their death, simply because he would rather spend time with you. He's acquired a taste for small fish, which unfortunately can't match the salivating taste of humam flesh, but he's willing to give it all up for you. he's still so worried that you'll catch him one day and see the monster he truly is.

Siren!Leon, who sits in the small tide pool close to a bay, soaking up the moonlight with you, and the way it makes you look ethereal. You look even prettier like this than in the sun. The silvery streaks reflect off of your features so beautifully, and he knows that he's doomed.

Siren!Leon, who spends all of his nights with you, not wanting that image of your lovely self dipped in the rays of Mother Moon to go away. He loves talking to you at night. Sharing quiet stories and tales interrupted by soft giggles.

Siren!Leon, who kisses you for the first time on the beach where he saved you. He melts when he finally feels your lips on his, and he's holding you so tight and full of love that you can't imagine being anywhere else.

Siren!Leon, who found a pearl at the bottom of the ocean, your favorite color, and he gives it to you as a gift under one of those moonlit nights. He's confessing his love to you, giving the pearl to you as a sign of always wanting to be with you.

Siren!Leon who doesn't know whether to blush and hide or be giddy like an idiot when he sees you wearing his pearl the next morning, showing it off to all your sisters who are all in awe of its beauty.

Siren!Leon, who loves to spend his days lying in the sand with you, playing with the many small braids and twists that adorn your silky locks. There's not much to do, but you make the days go by so fast.

Siren!Leon, who goes ballistic when your sisters rush to tell him that you've been captured by some filthy pirates while you were out exploring a new shipwreck, trying to find more odds and ends for your collection.

Siren!Leon, who can feel his blood boil in his veins. It's like a switch was flipped, and he falls back into his bloodthirsty and feral ways. It scares your sisters, but they know he's doing it for you.

Siren!Leon, who follows your scent and your soft pleads for mercy as the pirates decide whether to gut you or keep you for themselves. He has never swam this fast in his life. He had a strong tail, no doubt, but he pushed himself to his limit only to get to you.

Siren!Leon who feels so deeply and can feel the storm brewing inside of him. He can't help but feel somewhat reassured when dark, thick clouds rise in the sky and heavy winds, rain, and thundering streaks of lightning descend from the sky. He thanks Mother Moon with all his being for helping him rescue his treasure.

Siren!Leon, who sneaks close to the ship undetected, due to the heavy rain and loud thunder. He is out for blood, and one thing is clear; that ship will sink today, and he will make them pay.

Siren!Leon who punches holes into the body of the ship with his strong tail, making the ship sink slowly into the dark embrace of the ocean.

Siren!Leon, who when he finally gets to the bastard pirates, tears them to shreds without a thought. Thick crimson spills into the rowdy waters, and you can almost see the red reflecting in his eyes.

It's a mess of limbs and guts, the blood clinging to his pale skin like a curse. He doesn't want to admit how refreshing this felt- he was still a siren after all.

Siren!Leon who snaps out of his craze and immediately starts searching for you, calling out your name with desperation and fear. The lightning gets worse as he looks around frantically.

Siren!Leon, who finally spots you clinging to a piece of wood with bloody hands and teary eyes. He rushes over to you, and the relieved cries that rip from your throat make his heart hurt.

Siren!Leon, who scowls at the deep gash on your tail, no doubt courtesy of those pirates. He embraces you so softly, kissing your temple and whispering sweet reassurances to you.

You sniffled and looked up at him, the rain slowly washing away the blood that tarnished his skin. You spotted tears of his own welling up in his blue eyes, pained by the image of your wounded self. He never stopped stroking your hair and wiping away the rain that mixes with your tears as it falls on your face.

"They... they only hurt me because I didn't want to give them... this.." You spoke quietly, opening your bloody hand, revealing the pearl he had gifted you now smeared with blood. Leon felt his heartbeat all the way in his head. The gusting winds, loud thunder and the electrifying strikes of lightning died down and the surface of the water stilled into a soft ripple as he stared at you, not knowing what to do, or to feel.

Only the soft patter of rain on the ocean filled the silence that lingered between you two. Leon swallowed thickly and cupped your face, finding his words.

"My treasure, My pearl... why?"

You'd never heard him this hurt, defeated before.

"Because you gave it to me."

With your simple answer, he pulled you tight against his chest with his lips pressed to your forehead, hoping the rain would cover the tears that ran down his face, soaking into your hair.

Siren!Leon, whose blood freezes in his veins when you catch a glimpse of the massacre he had left and absolute horror washes over your face. He can feel his heart shatter with the way you look at him, with so much fear and- ...gratitude?

Siren!Leon, who gets the words knocked out of his head once again, when you softly touch his cheek and tell him that you're not afraid of him. You're still shaken up, in agony, and dismembered bodies aren't part of your usual routine.

But you tell him that you could never be scared of him. You know he would never hurt you, he loves you, and he only did what he needed to in order to rescue you. You're fully aware of what he is- a Siren, not a monster. He proved that to you many times with his gentle and kind nature. He feels pathetic when he breaks down as you whisper that you love him and press kisses to his hair. You're hurt, and he's crying, utterly overwhelmed by you and your love.

Siren!Leon, who will take care of you and the wound on your tail until it's fully healed. He gently drapes seaweed wraps over the gash and always makes sure you're not in any pain. He will make you hang onto him by his neck when he swims so you can still get around but not put any strain on your tail.

Siren!Leon, who plucks a scale from his tail and gifts it to you as full proof of his love and devotion for you. It hangs around your neck, right next to the pearl he had given you, and he can't help but smile when he sees how his shimmery blue scale looks against your skin.

Siren!Leon, who wears one of your scales on a cloth, tied around his arm, proudly showing it off whenever he can. Because he's as much yours as you are his. <3

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I loved writing this so much!! Lmk your thoughts on Siren!Leon <3

More Leon works are here 🩷

《Tag list》: @dmitriene @k-fallingstar @vampkennedy

Comment to be added!

#bumblebeesfromvenus #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #Siren!Leon #Siren!Leon Kennedy #f!mermaid!reader

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artificial-transmutations · 1 year

Text

11:48

Martin was frustrated. It was a late Thursday morning and since some of his classes had been cancelled, he had used the opportunity to throw in an extra training at the gym.

He was really trying to bulk up some muscles and get into bodybuilding, but it was no use. His 21 year old body was thin and athletic, but didn't show any signs of bulking up. He had tried everything, like different training programs, dieting, protein shakes, even some shady hypno files he found on the net, but his muscle mass just wouldn't increase.

He sighed and was about to get dressed, when he noticed discarded piece of clothing under the locker room bench. It was a pair of gym shorts, soaked with sweat, obviously left behind by someone who had worked out before him. Curious, he took them in hand and looked at them more closely. The shorts were light gray and made of cotton-like material, but they seemed very wide, probably belonging to a very fat or very muscular man. They were smelling strongly of man sweat, which made Martin's head swim. He could only think of one thing...

He slowly pulled down his pants and underwear and then started to pull the shorts over his legs. As soon as the first leg was inside, he felt the wet fabric cling to his skin. Part of him felt disgusted by it, but another part was somehow turned on by the experience. He pulled the shorts up further, until his dick touched the wet material of the shorts. They were way too big, just hanging barely from his hips, perhaps only because they were damp and stuck to his skin. The smell was intense and mixed with his own body odor from his workout - although Martin didn't really tend to smell much.

However, it was just turning him on to wear another man's gym shorts, and so, he fished out his stiff cock through one of the leg holes of the shorts and started jerking. Intoxicated by the smell, he pumped like a mad man, his hand slick from pre and the wetness of the pair of shorts. It didn't take long until he erupted in a wide arc over the locker room bench.

Post-Nut-Clarity set in, and Martin finally felt a bit disgusted about him wearing the foreign piece of clothing. He wanted to get out of it quickly and take another shower, just to be sure.

However, as he tried to pull down the shorts, he found himself unable to. It felt stuck, like it was glued to his body. He tried again, this time with more force, but it didn't move. He pushed harder and faster, but the shorts remained firmly attached to his body. After several attempts, he gave up. Perhaps if it had dried up, it would be easier to remove.

So, Martin left the gym, still wearing the foreign shorts and quickly made his way back to his dorm and tried to calm down there. However, even after two more hours, as the shorts had dried down somewhat, he just couldn't remove them. The intense smell had infiltrated his dorm room by now, and, not thinking too clearly, Martin didn't mind the situation all that much. The shorts were comfortable enough and there was no reason to take them off just yet, right? They would come off eventually!

Thinking about it, perhaps he should just go back to the gym. He felt energetic and had nothing more to do for the day, so a quick second session certainly wouldn't hurt.

The training was nice. Martin got into a routine quickly and forgot about time. Only as it was getting dark outside, he realized he should be heading home.

However, there was still the problem with the unremovable shorts. He could take a shower with them on, but then, he would have some soaking wet gym shorts on him that he couldn't get dry very well. The other option was skipping the shower and staying sweaty.

Martin didn't like any of these options very much, but he opted for the latter one. Skipping one shower would probably not hurt too much, and tomorrow he would be able to remove the shorts, he was sure of it.

When Martin woke up the next morning, he was almost late for classes. His bed, no his whole dorm room smelled like him, but he had hardly time to do anything about that. He tugged on his shorts, but they still wouldn't move. So, Martin took his morning piss by pulling his cock through one of the leg holes. It worked, but it was hardly a permanent solution. Still, it was something he could care about this afternoon, now he had to go to class.

In his third course for the day, in the late morning, Martin suddenly felt a churn in his stomach, which rose through his throat quickly. Before Martin could do anything about it, he let loose a loud burp, right in the middle of the lecture hall. Everyone stared at him, even the professor made a short pause before droning on. God, how embarrassing! However, Martin couldn't focus on that, since all of a sudden, his body started growing. His legs and arms suddenly felt much more powerful, as muscles grew in all over them. The t-shirt he was wearing suddenly felt rather constricting and Martin could feel that his biceps were bulging under the sleeves. He looked down and saw that his shorts were way better fitting now as well, with a visible cock print in them. Apparently, his dick had grown as well. However, the worst part were his shoes. The confines of his shoes quickly grew extremely painful, and it felt like his feet were about to burst out of them at any second.

Martin quickly excused himself and ran outside, where he went ahead to peel his shoes and socks off of him. Such a relief. Now his feet could breathe freely again.

He noticed that there were several people staring at him, but he ignored them and walked away quickly towards the gym. Perhaps he'd find some answers there.

However, when he arrived, he changed into a tank top without thinking about it. He was then drawn directly to the weights, starting a workout routine almost automatically. He could see himself in the mirror. He did look impressive! Finally, he could see some progress.

Martin blinked. Was it evening already? He was sweating like crazy, and his muscles felt like they were full of pump. He briefly considered working out some more, but no, something wasn't right here. He returned to his dorm room, not even thinking about taking a shower. He needed to get back on track! This evening, he would repeat the material he missed at his courses today, and tomorrow he would buy new clothes, as his old ones didn't fit him very well now. Luckily, his classes started at noon tomorrow, which gave him plenty of time to go shopping.

The plan sounded good in theory, but it was way harder in practice. Martin tried to concentrate on his studies, but he was distracted easily. Drops of sweat from his brow dropped to his books and wiping away at his forehead only helped momentarily. He needed to remember to drink a lot, if he was still that sweaty after his workout.

To make matters worse, he was constantly aroused. His larger cock leaked precum into his gym shorts constantly, and Martin found himself struggling with the concepts he had to learn. At some point he sighed. It was no use, he needed to let off some steam. He had stroked his cock through his short subconsciously for a while now. Perhaps after release, he would be capable of concentrating better. He fished out his cock through the leg and started thrusting into his hand again. The smell of his arousal mixed with the already strong aroma in his room and brought him over the edge quickly, coming all over his books.

Martin looked at the mess and shrugged mentally. Well, he might as well hit the bed and clean that up tomorrow. No use in trying to study any more today.

The next morning came, but Martin did not think about cleaning up any mess. His bed was slightly damp from his sweat that had continued to transpire out of him during the night.

Still, Martin felt good about himself. His new body was impressive, albeit a bit sweaty. If he had some new clothes, he would look really hot with it!

He briefly considered going to the gym for a quick morning session but decided that had time until the afternoon.

Martin spent the morning shopping for clothes, and he had almost gotten everything, when the clock showed 11:48, the exact same time he put on the pair of shorts for the first time the day before yesterday. Suddenly, Martin let out a really loud burp, even worse than the one yesterday. He had thought that this had been a one-time thing, but again, his body was expanding in all directions. He could see his pecs strain the tank top he was wearing until he heard a ripping sound, as the sheer mass from his body had started ripping the seams. He quickly got out of his large new sneakers that he just bought before his feet started growing again, saving him from a new painful experience.

The new size of his feet was almost comical. Martin was sure he wouldn't find any shoes for them so easily. Looking down on him, he sighed. He looked really good, but most of the stuff he just bought wouldn't fit him anymore. For some reason, this didn't bother Martin much, however. He thought for a moment, before coming to the most obvious conclusion. He should go to the gym.

Exiting the store, he noticed the store clerk opening a window after he was out of the door, but Martin couldn't draw a connection. Finally, he arrived at the gym. He needed to work out shirtless and with bare feet, emitting his more-than-strong stink through the whole gym. He just couldn't stop sweating. Liquid ran over his body, as he was running on the treadmill, soaking the equipment he was using. He also used the weight machines, pumping iron like crazy, and soon enough, his muscles were bulging everywhere.

When he finally stopped, it was late in the night. It was not that he was tired, but he was too hungry to go on. So, Martin decided to visit a fast food restaurant to get something to eat. After ordering a dozen hamburgers, Martin started to stuff himself full. He needed the energy, that much was sure. However, as he was halfway through his meal, a waiter stepped up to him and asked him if it were too much trouble to finish his meal outside. There were other guests, as he put it, that were complaining about his strong odor.

At first, Martin was offended, but then again, as he thought about it, he was kind of proud. It was like his smell was a statement! So, he finished the second six hamburgers on his way home. His bed groaned under his weight, as he drifted to sleep happily.

Martin began the next day by going to the gym, after jerking off into his shorts. Nobody would notice the added bit of moisture anyway, as his shorts were constantly damp with sweat. He started working out early and got into a nice rhythm, until, finally, the clock hit 11:48.

A massive belch roared through the gym, as Martin got even bigger. It was getting ridiculous now. He probably would have to turn sideways to go through doors now, and scratching his back was impossible. His gym shorts were the only piece of clothing fitting him now, and there was little hope of finding shoes or other clothes that could cover his body anymore. Not that he wanted to, anyway. A dumb grin covered his square face. He just loved working on his body and showing it off to anyone strong-willed enough to brave his stench. Even though his size was the very definition of impracticality now, Martin couldn't wait for 11:48 tomorrow.

#male transformation #muscle tf #bodybuilder #sweat #man stink #dumbing down

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bettyfrommars · 10 months

Note

I need to know what you think about finding a dark siren Eddie Munson. Maybe he got hurt and washed up on the shore? You’re immediately his mate and he loves you very much even though he’s never been near a human. Very much I hate everyone but you vibes for our bloodthirsty friend.

Boyfriend From the Deep

darkSiren!Eddie x Reader

darkSiren!Eddie art here and here

18+ONLY, smut, some monsterfuqqing, mention of gore, mention of throwing up, visit from Murray & Hopper, mention of reader's life not going well, AFAB Reader, love at first sight, soulmates, merman!Eddie. wc: 3k

A/N: Another request I was really excited to sink my teeth into. My hope is to continue this eventually, taking inspiration from the 1984 film Splash. Looking forward to what y'all think of darkSiren!Eddie, thank you for indulging me.

---------

Eddie choked and coughed as the wave crashed over him, forcing his eyes open with a gargled gasp. He was pinned up against a rocky ledge, half of his body on the sand and the other half in the frigid water. All of a sudden, he felt sick, and began retching clear bile into the sea. He didn’t like breathing the air, he wasn’t used to it, and it caught in his throat like a feather–tickling—until he coughed and retched again. The gills on the sides of his neck sputtered, flapping open like vents, drying out, trying to conform to the new way of breathing.

It was then that he became aware of the dull ache at the back of his head, and with trembling fingers, he reached back to test the spot with a cringe and a hiss. He checked to find that his fingertips were bloody; he must’ve knocked his head on one of the sharp rocks during the transformation. How badly was he wounded? Would be a shame to survive the journey to human form only to die on the beach and rot like a bloated fish.

He braced his hand, fingers digging into the sand, and flicked his hips to swish his tail to get him unstuck, but then two legs kicked out from his hips, stuck in a fisherman’s net, and it startled him, making him slam his head into the rock again. He winced, eyes squeezing shut, whimpering a bit at the sting of the impact as the saltwater splashed up to his knees and misted his face.

This was Eddie’s first time back to land in over a decade. Mostly because he loathed humans. He loved to lure them to their deaths, he loved to watch from under the water as their ships sank so that he could feed on their fear, curling the sound waves of their screams into his belly like sweet nectar.

He twisted, trying to be free of the rough ropes that cut into his skin, but he was weak, and he wasn’t sure how much blood he’d lost. He was stuck there now, for 7 days and 7 nights, and he thought maybe he’d just find a way to stay hidden…

….until he saw you.

It was rare for you to be up at the crack of dawn, unless it was due to the fact that you hadn’t slept at all, which was a regular occurrence. Long, restful sleeps that lasted hours were just a myth to you, ever since you’d watched your life go down the toilet. A breakup, a death in the family, getting fired from your job; all of it happened all at once, and you were still reeling, teetering at the edge of the abyss.

You were all alone in the world, but for your dog, Louie, and the modest cottage you were renting for a week off the Oregon coast. The beach house was tucked back in the woods, and it didn’t even have a TV, so flipping it on to watch the early morning broadcast or some cartoons to relax your brain was not an option. The radio would have to do, and the first song that came on when you flipped the dial was Brandy by Looking Glass. You hummed along to it as you plucked Louie’s leash off the sofa and attached it to his collar. He was a medium, handsome, mixed-breed boy that you’d rescued from the side of the road as a puppy. Part corgi, part border collie, part…dalmatian? You weren’t entirely sure.

“He came on a summer's day

Bringin' gifts from far away

But he made it clear he couldn't stay

No harbor was his home

The sailor said, ‘Brandy, you're a fine girl

What a good wife you would be

But my life, my love, and my lady is the sea”

It was exceptionally chilly for an August morning, making you bundle in a hoodie and boots for the trek out to the beach. Louie was practically foaming at the mouth to get out there for his run, and since your area of the beach was fairly secluded at that time of morning, you unhooked his leash where the dirt path met with the sand, and he bolted into the fog toward the ocean like a shot. There was a wet mist lingering in the air, like salty, seaweed-scented kisses that made you squint against the bright gray hues turning blue with the rise of the sun. A few seagulls squawked and swooshed overhead, diving down to perch on a large piece of driftwood, and you waved to them, as if they’d showed up just to say hello to you.

You faced the vast expanse of ocean and crashing waves with a mix of awe and defiance, challenging it silently with a lift of your chin. Your reverie was rudely interrupted by Louie’s alarm bark, somewhere deep in the mist.

You followed the sound, walking blind until you caught sight of the jutting rocks at the base of a cliff, and the shrill of Louie’s distress signal was getting further away. Your feet picked up speed, stumbling for purchase in the soft, wet ground as you called for him, a bit of panic stroking your heart. Why did it feel like you were about to start crying? An avalanche of unfelt emotions gathered in your throat as you called for your loyal companion.

But there he was, finally, sitting facing the rocks, tail wagging side to side, making a fan-shape in the sand, basically ignoring you as you collapsed to one knee, cursing, clutching your chest.

You mumbled a whole conversation to him as you snapped the leash back in place and got to your feet. You tried to guide him in the other direction, but Louie was transfixed on something a few yards ahead, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust—but then you saw it. A hand, slightly webbed between the fingers, appeared from around the black rock, digging into the sand, and then another hand gripped the tan earth further along, as if someone were trying to pull themself along by their arm strength alone. The wrists were covered in jewelry that looked like they were made of shell and bone; the forearms tattooed in dotted, swirling black ink patterns.

You were too stunned to scream, mouth hanging agape. You urged Louie back to shield him with your legs. You saw the long, dark hair next, pooling over bare, tattooed shoulders; it was messy and unkempt, littered in bits of fauna and a few empty clam shells, one side matted with blood.

Before your brain could throw the alarm that this might be dangerous, you were already speaking. “A-are you alright? Do you need me to get help?”

That was when his head snapped up, and wide, all-white eyes regarded you with malice, lips curling back to expose a mouth full of pointed teeth. He growled at you, and Louie growled back, but then, after a second, the monster's face softened. The milk white eyes behind tendrils of hair shifted to brown, human irises, and he cocked his head a few times at you, as if trying to understand what you had just said.

You should have fainted.

You should have turned and run screaming in the other direction.

But, for some reason, neither one of those even occurred to you.

You came around to get a better look at him, down along where the water lapped at your boots, and took in the rest of his body; he was tangled up in a crude net from the waist down. He wore a necklace that appeared to be made of intricate fish bones and coral, and shark tooth earring dangled from his ear. The tattoo patterns ran all along his chest, stomach, and legs. You released Louie’s leash, and he sat right where he was told, while you crouched down to meet Eddie’s curious gaze that never strayed from you.

“Will you let me help you?” You asked.

Eddie was in love.

He never believed the stories he’d been told about the imprinting and immediate bonding that happened when you met your mate. He wasn’t just any Merman, he was a Siren, and as a soldier of the dark forces of the sea, he figured he didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance.

But this took no time at all.

You were meant to be his, and he didn’t care who he had to kill to keep you.

He studied your face as you worked to free the wet knot of seaweed tangles on the net, freeing his thighs from the heavyweight, gasping and averting your eyes at the way your touch made his cock twitch and swell. You helped him to sit up, noticing what appeared to be gills on his throat and sides along his ribs. His flesh was similar to that of a human, but also not. It had a thick, rippled texture, like the belly of a snake, and it seemed to glow with a soft blue fluorescence. His muscles were tight and lean, and he didn’t even bother to shiver as a cold wind made your teeth chatter.

You told him your name as another seagull cawed overhead, and asked what you should call him.

His eyebrows clenched together, tilting his head a few times, watching your mouth as you spoke.

“Do you speak English?” You asked it in a cringe way, with a loud voice, as if a higher volume could break any language barrier.

He brought his webbed hand up to touch your face, and you jerked away at first, but then you let his scaled knuckles graze your cheek, the legs of your jeans soaking wet now as you knelt there with what could only be described as a figment of your imagination.

He spoke a word in foreign language, his voice a deep whisper. You remembered how solid white his eyes had been before when he thought you were a threat, but now they were honey brown, almost cat-like in nature as they softly adored you.

“I-I don’t understand,” you breathed, unable to comprehend the time it took for his mouth to find yours, to plant wholesome kisses, to taste you.

You might’ve been in love with him at that moment too, but your jaded heart refused to let yourself believe it.

You did, however, feel the arousal blossom at your core as his tongue fluttered against yours, whimpering with a little click in his throat like a sea lion at the way you returned his kiss.

The urge to mate you, to officially make you his, was too strong for Eddie to take into regard any of the formalities of courtship. Once your hand found his generous girth and began to stroke, encouragingly, that was all it took.

You skittered backwards up onto the semi-dry sand, unzipping your jeans and pushing them down to your ankles as you went, and Eddie followed, bracing himself on top so he wouldn’t crush you, desperate to find your mouth again. His powerful hips bucked against you, and you held him by the neck, begging for more while he spoke to you in that foreign tongue, staring into your eyes, willing you to understand him.

Wanting you to know that no one would ever love you as much as he did; that he would be your one and only mate until the darkness took you both.

The position felt awkward, but there was no time to take your boots off as your hole clenched the air, desperate to be filled. You spun around to get on your hands and knees, and Eddie buried his cock balls deep in your wet heat with one swish of his muscular thighs, throwing his head back in a bark of triumph.

You pushed back against him, needing him to move, to stretch you and own you with each push, your fingers clawing into the sand as you whined.

Nearby, Louie cocked his head and tried to lift one floppy ear, but then he turned his face to the sea, trying to give you some privacy.

You’d never been fucked by someone as strong as this sea monster, and your whole body jerked and vibrated under the impact of his deep thrusts. “Yesyesyes…oh fuck!”

It wasn’t long before Eddie clapped his pelvis flush to your ass and spilled inside of you, chanting foreign words, tilting his head to the sky, worshiping you with his offering. He stayed locked there for a while, working his seed deeper with every stroke. When he was done, he flipped you over with a feral urgency that sent sand into your eyes and nose, but you didn’t care, because now his mouth was on you.

Your fingers sank into his matted hair, and that was when you felt the viscous patch and remembered he was bleeding. His big, strong legs were a bit wobbly, and the thought occurred to you, for whatever reason, that he wasn’t accustomed to using them.

But then Louie was barking in the other direction, and you both turned your attention to see a figure appearing from out of the mist. A middle-aged man in a pageboy cap and a trench coat; he was already too close before you knew he was there, and he dropped the walking stick in his hand, his face frozen in shock and terror.

Eddie smelled the foul human approaching and the familiar bloodlust roared in his veins. The fin on Eddie’s back bristled as he rose to a crouch with a ferocious growl. You shuffled as far as you could against the rock, trying to pull your jeans up and cover yourself, not sure what to think of Eddie’s reaction.

Eddie bared his mouth full of sharp teeth in a sneer at the man, his eyes going completely white again. A storm seemed to hit the beach all of a sudden at Eddie’s command, dropping down a gust of wind that rocked the waves and sent the man stumbling off his feet as if the world tilted on its axis, trying to hold his hat on against the force of it. A low, rumbling wail came from somewhere deep in Eddie’s chest as you tried to shield your face from the whips of sand stabbing like tiny daggers in your flesh. Eddie appeared to be sucking the life out of the man from his distance; the human’s body lifted up in the air and bent back. You thought you heard something crack.

It was only a matter of seconds before the man crumpled to the ground, unresponsive, and then Eddie settled, and so did the air around him. After a few heartbeats, there were only the crashing waves and the birds once again, and Eddie’s head snapped to you, searching, making sure you were okay.

He held his arms out and you scrambled over, burying your head in the crook of his neck, letting him cage you, letting him have you.

Louie went over to sniff around at the man on the ground, wondering if he had any treats, and then he lifted his leg and let go of a stream of urine onto his shoe.

—-----

Murray Bauman slammed the paper onto Hopper’s desk, forcing a gust of wind into his face and a couple of yellow sticky notes to go flying.

Murray waited, hands on his hips, the door to the office wide open behind him. Hopper took a deep inhale and flicked a few bored glances from the cover of the Seaside Review back up to Murray’s severe expression.

“Is this your way of telling me you're taking a vacation?” He guessed, shifting back in his squeaky chair.

“This,” Murray jabbed his finger in the direction of the paper. “Is what I’ve been trying to tell you about.”

In the mood to humor his old friend, Hopper bent forward, furrowing his brow, taking a closer look at the headlines.

Murray continued, pacing in front of the desk as he did so. “Merpeople don’t exist? Well then, explain that to me.”

To the right, at the top of a long column and a sketch, was the headline: Reclusive artist survives a Siren attack on the beach and lives to tell: Merfolk exist.

Hopper cleared his throat. “This is a drawing, Murray.”

Murray stopped his pacing, inclining his head, adopting a sarcastic tone. “Notice anything familiar about that likeness, Jim? Does any part of it ring a bell? The white eyes, maybe? The teeth?”

“Sure,” Hopper picked the paper up and plopped it down, further away from him. “It looks like Elvis. Call The Inquirer.”

Murray flopped in a chair facing the Chief’s desk with a huff. He’d keep talking about it even if it fell on deaf ears because he knew he was right. “The migration of the Sirens. Enki, Poseidon, Amphitrite, the legend of the skin-shedding Merfolk who can walk on land for 7 days during a blood moon. Humanoids. Cannibals of the sea—-”

“Stop,” Hopper put his hand up palm out. “Just, stop. Is any of this supposed to make any sense to me? Why are you here? What have I done to deserve this?”

Murray rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, intertwining his fingers. “The drawing should look familiar to you, Jim, because it’s just like the one I saw when I was a teenager, and three summers ago when I was on that death-trap Alaskan cruise. I told you all about it. I told you that I was—-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper interrupted. “But again, I’ll ask—why are you coming to me with this? You think I’m going to arrest a fish?”

Murray rounded his shoulders. "I know that Sirens exist, Jim. There’s more than enough evidence out there, and I’m going to prove it to you, if not the world.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #darkSiren!Eddie #merman!Eddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #monster fucking #monsterfucker #monster smut #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader

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pinkpigtailsprincess · 30 days

Text

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ Dollies 63 Days of Summer Glow up!! Day 1 > Prep 🎀☀️🐬

Hii Dolls!! 🎀 Welcome 2 my newest series of my 2 month long summer glow up process its pretty self explanatory but im gonna be documenting my 2 month long summer glow up process 2 just be a better me!! enjoy!! ☀️

DISCLAIMER!! ; i will censoring and dancing around certain topics just bc ik they can be triggering to some folk that have issues so cw; vauge mentions of w3!ght!! 💗

Stage 1 : Health! ☀️

It always important to keep up with ur health obvii 2 maintain good balance in life! ☀️

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Diet!! 🍏

Now diet wise i already do have a pretty balanced and healthy diet to begin with so i won’t have to that much work on my diet but i definitely wanna make small improvements!!🎀

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Diet Goals!! 🍋

incorporate different from my usual ones fruits!!

expand my palate (chronic picky eater)

making more meals that are still healthy & tasty but not repetitive!!

not skipping my meals!!

cutting out all meats except fish!!

push myself to like cucumbers

get back into drinking more fruit water!!

stop eating so much cheese!

knowing my limit when eating!

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Exercise !! 🧘‍♀️

Doing more exercise is definitely a huge one for me because there was a point where i did it daily but then i stopped bc i feel into a rut but then i started again but only once a month so im trying to get back into daily exercise!!

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Fitness Goals!! 🧘‍♀️

workout more than once a month!

do more yoga + cardio + home pilates

use exercise to make me healthier & happier

lose w*ight i won’t disclose how much i want to loose and how much i wanna be bc that’s personal 2 me !!

feeling comfortable in my body + build discipline

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Oral Health !! 🪥

I Will say i did recently update my oral hygiene routine bc i got braces so now i have to do more work but i definitely wanna still add things to it!!

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Oral Health Goals !! 🦷

consistently floss in the morning as well as night

buy a tongue scraper

get an electric toothbrush

start oil pulling

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Mental Health !! ☀️

I Sooo wanna improve some thing in my mental health bc obviously its super important to not only take care of my physical health but my mental health!! 🎀

𐙚 𓈒 ݁ ₊ Mental Health Goals !! 🧁

get back into journaling

get back into meditation

step out of my comfort zone

build more confidence in social settings!

replace most phone time with reading time

spend more time outside

prioritizing rest more

not being to hard on myself

celebrating all my wins and accomplishments no matter how big or small!

Stage2 ೀ⋆ : Hygiene!

I Already have a pretty solid skincare routine to begin with but honestly i just wanna improve to it and add more to it ! 🎀

Skincare ୭₊˚ ! 🎀

For my Skincare routine i already have my products and my basics but honestly i wanna stater using different products to better help my skin!!

❤︎ ໋𓈒 Skincare Goals ! ⭐️

ice rolling

gua-sha

jade rolling

bi weekly dermaplaing

weekly face mask

facial steaming

facial cleansing brush

use more Korean & Japanese products (Japanese products are literally the best)

Body-care ୭₊˚ ⭐️

Another section where i wanna make improvement i already exfoliate,hair removal sometimes and i use my antibacterial soap and my body washes but theres a bunch of things i wanna incorporate!! 💗

❤︎ ໋𓈒 Bodycare Goals ! 🐬

start dry brushing

exfoliate weekly

shave or epilating more often (my own choice bc honestly i don’t like the feeling of body hair

use my glycolic acid more routinely

buy more sweet smelling body products

find a signature scent

use body oil + body butter + body glitter

using an African exfoliating net instead of a rag

Haircare ୭₊˚ ! 💗

For my Hair care i definitely wanna make room for improvement i mainly detangle every day with just some water or style depending on if i need/want to or not and i oil my scalp!!

❤︎ ໋𓈒 Haircare Goals ! 🐬

Grow it out more with the Help of Indian Amla Oil (some said it stinks but if it helps)

Learn More Hair Styles

Use Rice Water

castor oil

Scalp Massage More Often

Hair Masque Bi-Weekly

Trim Split Ends

Deep Conditioning On a Wash Day

Nailcare ! ୭₊˚ ⭐️

use more cuticle oil

professional manipedis bi weekly!

soak my feet with foot salts more

develop my own at home nail care routine

Facials!!🎀

buy new daily vitamins!!

keep my hair professionally done!!

use my primuce stone more

buy more lipgloss + vaseline lip care

Stage 3 ೀ⋆ Makeup + Jewelry + Fashion + Perfumes 🛍️ !!

I wanna learn how to do my makeup again so badly! and this time i have more tips so i can actually learn how to do it properly!! 🫧

Makeup Goals ୭₊˚ !

find the perfect soft glam dolly makeup

perfect my eyebrows

learn to glue down lashes

make the perfect base

learn to bronze and contour correctly

perfect the highlighter placement

get the perfect sun kissed summer doll makeup

again buy more lipgloss

Jewelry Goals ୭₊˚ ! ⭐️

i desperately have been needing new jewelry and for the longest and ive stupidly been wearing silver knowing i like gold better

buy bangels

get gold hoops

get a new nameplate

get more necklaces

get more rings

get anklets !!

Fashion Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🛍️

actually dress in clothes i genuinely like

dress for my body type

not toning down my dressing for random people

build confidence in my outfits

start sewing some of my outfits bc i can

make crochet pieces for the beach

buy tons of cute clothes!!

make more inspo boards !!

Stage 4 ; Posture,Eloquence + Mannerism + Photogenic 🎀🍰

Definitely a Big one for me i wanna fix my posture and definitely speak up more in public bc im a little shy 🙈🎀!

Posture Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🫧

fix my back posture

learn to again regulate my nervous sustem and relax my shoulders

be more fluid in my movements!!

walking with my head up

Eloquence Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🛁

speaking louder in public so people can actually hear me

speaking clearly with confidence

controlling my facial expressions more

smiling more!! 😁

Mannerism Goals + Body Language ୭₊˚ ! 🛍️

I tend to tone down my natrual mannerisms ALOT when im out in public and honestly im tried of not being my true self in public and i let the opinions of those around me influence me into toning it down

be more animated as i am at home in public

walk the way i want to!!

practice princess mannerisms with my own little spin🤭

walk around like a princess bc im literally a princess

Extra Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🛍️

be more photogenic

learn how to pose

be more videogenic

walk around like i won the place (4 the confidence esque of it

Stage 5: Mindset!!🎀⭐️

The Final Stage!!🎀: where ill be implementing so mindsets of some my favs and learn how to express myself in my environment bc honestly it sucks not being able to be myself around my family ⭐️

Mindset Goals ୭₊˚ ! 🐬

knowing my worth

not letting outside opinions dictate my life

unapologetically being myself around my family

reminding my self that people opinions don’t matter

always have a one track mind with all my goals!!

again not being too hard on myself!

Thank you all so much 4 reading i can’t wait till start documenting my journey with you guys!!🎀⭐️ XO,Dolly!!

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thedemonscrawler · 2 months

Text

Call/Response

A lil' oneshot for @bloo-the-dragon of a branch of their mer AU cos we kept talking about it in Discord and then I got brainworms OwO

----

When Eclipse wakes up, Ruin isn't on the bed.

That was… unusual, but not overly alarming. Even though Eclipse's ‘just this once’ had extended by nearly two months now, with the slender mer curling up in a nest made of stolen blankets or wriggling under the sheets almost every night, there was still the occasional exception. His current favorite jacket, claimed just before laundry day and which wouldn't be surrendered until the next laundry day, is also missing, which soothes Eclipse’s mild anxiety further. Clearly Ruin had decided to move to a different sleeping spot during the night, that was all.

Eclipse stretches, feeling cables pull and worn joints scrub, before he leans over to look off the other side of the bed. No sleeping fish here, just a pillow that had gotten knocked to the floor. The door to the closet is wide open, which leaves either the couch or the tub as options.

He hopes it's the couch this time. He's getting really tired of hanging soggy sheets out to dry.

“Rue? You get overheated or something?” Eclipse listens, a faint frown pulling at his mouth when he doesn't hear anything. No scratch of scales against the tub, nor any sleepy chirps. Standing, he heads to the bathroom, poking his head inside.

The shower curtain is pulled back, revealing the tub to be as empty of mers as the bed. There aren't even any puddles on the floor to suggest Ruin might have been here earlier, only to move when it got closer to morning.

Faint unease coils in his chest, but Eclipse tamps down on it, turning towards the living room instead. Things were fine, there was no need to panic. Maybe the fish was feeling sick or something, and that was why he was hiding.

“Ruin?” His boots thud against the worn hardwood floor. From this angle he can't see the couch, nor if anyone is on it. He crosses the threshold of the bedroom–

– and stumbles as his foot comes down on a swaying deck.

Automatically his optics adjust to the change in light levels, from a darkened room to mid-morning sun, with the added bonus of glare thrown back back by cresting waves. There’s activity around him, men with heavy coats and heavier beards lugging coils of rope and net to the ship’s edge, checking that the hauling chains were in good order. Gulls call to one another in their shrill voices, the background soundtrack for most of his life.

He was… back on the ship?

Eclipse’s ventilations hitch, and he immediately turns on his heel. He shouldn’t be on the ship, he’d left it (brilliant red flames leaping into a sky filled with smoke, the distant sound of sirens) but through the door is nothing but his pitiful little closet, too small to even be called a room.

“Well there you are!” The harsh voice pulls him out of his stupor, and he looks over to see the captain glaring at him. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty, get your tools and go check out the No. 2 winch.”

“No, I…” His head feels like it’s full of fog, smothering his thoughts under a blanket of panic, but he manages to force words through the static haze. “Wasn’t I guarding the mer?”

“Hm?”

Eclipse shakes his head, fixing the captain with his best level look and trying to keep the distress out of his voice. “The– the mer that we picked up, the one that was all– all mangled. I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on h– it?”

And the captain tilts his head in that way, scorn and impatience under heavy brows, and it sparks a nervousness in Eclipse that he hasn’t felt since he was a boot just learning what his new life would be. The device at the base of his neck weighs heavily with malicious potential.

“You flush your memory after breakfast or something?” The captain snorts, gesturing towards the stern. “We offloaded it this morning! Nearly wasn’t worth the effort of keepin’ it fed on the way back– I would have made twice as much if we’d just gone ahead and skinned it for a pair of boots!”

Offloaded…?

Eclipse isn’t listening anymore. He pushes past the human and rushes to the stern of the ship, catching himself against the railing.

Just on the horizon is a grey smudge, and something in Eclipse twists with despair when he realizes how far they are from shore. Any wild ideas about jumping ship are immediately dashed; he can’t swim, and trying to grab one of the life rafts would get him shut down before he even got it inflated.

Something rises in his throat, bitterly cold and covered in sharp edges, but it’s only when the half-static sound falls from his mouth that he recognizes the feeble cheep for what it is.

A call for help, or to locate companions.

(Where are you?)

His ventilations hitch again. It feels like his chest is crumpling in, like some uncaring god has reached out and started wadding him up like aluminium foil. He can hear the men moving around the ship, low conversation and boisterous laughter and nothing connected to him. Eclipse was a toy, a machine: on the records as barely sentient, the mockery of life constructed from metal. Of no use and no importance to anyone.

Except, maybe, a mangled little mer, who had met his assigned vigil with tolerance and curiosity. Who hadn’t yelled at him, hadn’t dismissed him as a thing just because he was made of metal and there was a hole where his past should be.

Who had heard Eclipse, and called back.

Another cheep rises in his throat.

(Where are you?)

“Hey! Shut up and get back to your station!”

The railing creaks under his grip, metal fingers leaving shallow dents in the aluminium. Conditioning has his voice faltering for a second, the habit of just enough obedience to buy him another day– but the despair is stronger. The longing is stronger.

Eclipse slams his volume to max and shrieks.

(Please, answer me.)

The echoes fade, shrill sound thrown back by countless cresting waves. Land was so, so far away, but surely something would make it the vast distance, and all he had to do was listen. Past the calls of gulls circling the ship, the slap of water against the hull, the complaints of the men behind him.

Listening for the faintest hint of a response. A whisper, a breath.

Anything to let him know he’d been heard, for once.

“I said knock that crap off!”

Heavy boots against the deck, jingling buckles and the snarl of promised punishment. Eclipse turns just in time to catch the blur of metal before something impacts his face.

Everything goes dark.

—

When Eclipse wakes up, it takes his panic-addled mind several seconds to recognize his surroundings.

The soft surface under his cheek and clenched hands is a blanket, a bed, and when he sits up he can feel the gentle tug and sway of a charging cable. Shadows gradually resolve themselves into doorways and furniture, a pile of clothes on top of a shabby dresser, his boots by the door. His roaring fans are loud in the darkness of so-late-it’s-early-morning, yet he can’t seem to get them to quiet.

Something gently touches his arm.

Still on edge, Eclipse can’t help flinching away from the contact, head whipping around to stare down at the culprit. The mer stares back up at him with wide, mismatched eyes, looking nearly as alarmed as Eclipse himself.

“Eclipse…? Are you alright?”

The British accent is still jarring to hear, even now– some hysterical part of him wants to laugh, or snap at the mer in misplaced irritation. The rest of him is struggling to form words, to figure out how to dismiss this or reassure the mer or just get him to forget about it. Everything feels brittle, like the soft blankets draped over his legs will shatter if he moves, but surely he can get himself back under control.

He can’t do it. The words won’t come. Expression crumpling in misery, he stops trying to swallow back the lump in his throat and cheeps.

(Where are you?)

And Ruin blinks, ragged frills flaring out like the rays of a tattered sun, and chirps back.

(I’m here.)

The pitch is a little flat, with a layer of complexity his own chirps lack. It still hits that hollow place inside him, covering near-constant anxiety with a soft blanket of reassurance, a cool hand on a feverish forehead. The rest of his self control breaks and Eclipse buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with sobs that are equal parts relief and fading fear, interspersed with pitiful cheeps.

Ruin chirps back every time. A constant stream of reassurance, an unignorable reminder that there was someone here, that they hadn’t left. That he wasn’t alone.

(I’m here. You’re safe. We’re together.)

Eventually the sobbing trails off, then stops. Eclipse spares a moment to be glad that he’s not organic, otherwise his hands and face would probably be covered in tears and snot and it would just be even more embarrassing. It’s bad enough he just broke down over a stupid nightmare, of all things. Huffing through his vents, Eclipse finally drops his hands from his face, and finds that Ruin has built a nest around him.

That’s what it looks like, anyway. The blankets have been arranged so that they more or less encircle him, with Ruin’s current favorite jacket tucked in closest to his body. The mer himself forms the outermost layer of the nest: head pillowed on his arms, body curled in such a way that his crooked tail goes all the way around behind Eclipse and comes back to nearly touch his cap thing.

“Thanks…” The gratitude just slips from him, rough and scraping like gravel. He doesn’t even know if a ‘thank you’ is the appropriate response to this kind of thing.

With how Ruin’s eyes light up, the barely visible patting of his hands against the sheets, he can guess that the mer is probably fine with it. “You’re welcome! I hoped– are you feeling better?”

He can’t help the bitter laugh, looking down at the hands that sit limply in his lap. Scratched, dented, scuffed: the marks of a life spent clawing for anything he could hold on to, and having it ripped away anyway. “Yeah… I guess? I’m not– …yeah. I’m fine.”

Out of the corner of his eye he can just barely see how Ruin’s head tilts. His voice is soft, hesitant. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Well, there was no sense in hiding it, was there? Ruin could sometimes lack what Eclipse considered common sense, or made some bizarre leaps of logic– but it didn’t take a genius to figure out why Eclipse might have gone from peaceful slumber to outright sobbing.

“Just… stupid stuff. Like being back on the boat, working for that asshole again. We were already pretty far out at sea– and it’s dumb, right? That hasn’t been my life for months now, and I made sure that it wouldn’t be ever again.”

Soft tugs on the blanket, a pair of webbed hands slowly inching their way across his legs. It’s easier to watch their progress towards his own hands than it is to look Ruin in the face and see those big, gentle eyes. Eclipse takes a deep breath, trying to keep his voice flippant and steady.

“We were out at sea, and– and I guess I chickened out or something because you weren’t… there. I’d left you in that cage on shore.” The lump is back in his throat, scraping the edges off of his words so that they emerge laced in static, barely more than a whisper. “I tried to call out, but we were too far away, I think. You didn’t answer.”

“Oh. I see.” Soft, organic fingers close over his own, covering the scratched metal with cerulean blue and buttery gold. It always took him by surprise that Ruin’s hands were so warm; all of an animatronic’s warmth was centered in their chest, with the extremities left to range from ‘room temperature’ to ‘christ that’s cold!’. The tail behind him shifts as the coil of Ruin’s body gets a little smaller, the mer doing his best to scootch closer while refusing to let go of Eclipse’s hands.

“I understand. Believe me, I do understand,” he says quietly. There is a deep sorrow behind the words, scars matching the ones that cover Ruin’s body from top to tailtip. The marks of a life spent clawing for anything to hold on to. “However…”

Organic fingers tighten their grip, a reassuringly solid presence. The mer flattens himself against the bed, trying to catch Eclipse’s downcast eyes, and he offers a small smile when the animatronic finally relents.

“However, I am here. You are here.” His smile widens, showing razor sharp teeth, and he makes a musical, trilling sound that Eclipse has no hope of reproducing. It’s soothing, a sound that doesn’t pull at his programming like the chirps do, but it makes him feel better in a way that he can’t quite nail down. He’s hearing it because Ruin is here, because they’re both here.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, bud.” Eclipse tries a small smile himself, though he knows it's still pretty wobbly on the edges. The tattered remains of the nightmare cling to him like cobwebs, but Ruin is still holding his hands, and it’s surprisingly easy to focus on that warmth instead.

This hasn’t been taken away from him. Ruin won’t suddenly disappear into the morning mist. Eclipse has his own home and a companion that wants to be here, and stupid nightmares can’t change that.

“Come on, we might as well get up now and start the day early.” The small grin gets wider when Ruin whines dramatically, flopping over onto his side and covering his face with his tail in protest. He knows that it’s all for show, and he reaches over to pat what he can see of Ruin’s head, his other hand unplugging the charger. “I’ll make you some waffles, how’s that?”

“...fish waffles?”

“Yeah, I’ll cut ‘em into fish shapes, too.”

#fanfic #fnaf mermaid au #fnaf security breach #tsams #the sun and moon show #I MEAN TECHNICALLY BUT #tsams eclipse #tsams ruin #aaaaa bloooo your fish got into my head

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naffeclipse · 5 months

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Finished your latest chapter, and I was at rge ended if my seat from beginning to end. Amazing!

And at the end of the chapter I thought of an inquiry:

What if y/n is a hunter/fisherman instead of a photographer? How would they have met, and what would the dynamics be like? Would they bring each other kills to give to the other to show off? Or in Eclipse's case, courting gifts? Still would figure y/n wouldn't realize what Eclipse is actually doing.

Oh, man, I just flashbacked to Fisher Y/N from Deep Waves but for an AP fisher? They'd be a bit disgruntled and grumpy. Very hard working, set on the task and won't stop until it's done. They've got a shell that rivals crabs. Very gruff but has a heart hidden somewhere under all those brusque layers.

Of course, you're spooked when Eclipse pops his head up (he's a lot more terrifying, not trusting humans on their boats with their harpoons.) Still, once he sees that you're alone and also, well, pretty, he tones it back a bit to actually talk to you while still dangling you halfway off your boat above the icy cold of the sea. You manage to yell at the siren to put you back. While Eclipse does so, he promises to bring you fine fish, the best of the best. You wave him off like "Yeah, yeah, as long as you don't ruin my nets and don't kill me."

The next day, he's got a fat catch. You thought you got rid of him, but like a stray cat that's been fed once, he's back. If he can chat, he can help you push the nets onto your boat so the fish don't flop out and get away. You might pick one cod out (the best one but you would rather die before admitting so) and toss it to Eclipse for his lunch, as thanks, or something like that. Eclipse would beam at the exchange of gifts so soon but you're too busy trying to not slip on the half-frozen, half-wet deck to notice.

You know sirens are bad news, but you have the mindset of 'Eclipse hasn't killed me yet, and there's work to be done, so I better hop to it.' That kind of attitude, however, is what gets you into Eclipse's mandated cuddle sessions as he decides you've been working too long and require a break. Guess who is getting yanked across the deck, forcibly cradled, and persuaded to take a twenty-minute break by a large, touchy siren? You, of course!

It's unusual to endure this kind of attention (and maybe you thought no one would touch you like this, make you feel like you're not just a ghost on the sea.) You put your shoulder to the wheel and get the catch while navigating Eclipse's hands of avarice.

You learn quickly that there's no use trying to get out of his arms once he has you. You also learn that he likes seals, but you try to catch squid and even, once or twice, small sharks for him to snatch on. He returns the favor with a bounty of fish and even guides you to better fishing spots. He's always eager to hand you the fish he catches to you personally. You don't think too much of it when you take it in your gloved hands and his grin widens. (You think he looks infatuated whenever you stumble upon an old seashell or half-plucked feathers or shiny, chipped scales and figure he might think it's pretty, but you don't take it to heart—he probably just likes trinkets.)

One day, when the sea is calm and the fish are nowhere to be found, Eclipse decides you are due for a break. You both lounge on the deck of your smelly boat. You don't even push away Eclipse's hands while precious work minutes slip by, resting your head on his chest to his great pleasure. Eclipse manages to coax a few confesses from your lips with a few slippery musical notes in his voice. You really don't know why you start rambling like this, like a fool. You tell him you don't have anybody, but nobody has you. Sometimes, you don't feel like a person because the only time you talk to another human being is when business over the fish is conducted. You're so used to not having anyone to talk to that when you talk to Eclipse, your voice becomes hoarse and dry, but you don't mind. You don't mind at all, lately.

He tells you in that way of his that is as true as the sun and moon that he has you. You don't believe him, but you pull out a little... gift you've been quietly crafting for the past while you've known him.

Now is as good as ever to give him a simple piece of jewelry you made with a cord and yet another seashell that's so old and pale pink that no one will notice or care for it, but he takes it from you with awe. He ties it around his wrist and shows you how pretty it looks against his black and white markings. He says you need to strengthen your voice. You need to talk to him more. He will listen, and he will listen when you sing, too. The mere thought of you singing of all things jars you enough to finally pull you out of this fancy and get you back on your feet, scouring the sea for fish to catch.

Eclipse is still wearing the seashell when he drops back into the water, and he doesn't let you out of his sights on the sea. You're left to wonder if you're a fool for giving a siren a gift or for feeling pleased that he wears it so proudly.

#y/n: i have to work so don't get in my way #eclipse when he decides it's break time: sorry i can't hear you over me grabbing you for cuddles and rest :) stop fighting #he'd call them fishie instead of birdie #also y/n giving him anything and strictly rationalizing it as junk or needing to repay him but maybe eclipse will find it nice #eclipse getting anything from y/n: oh! our courtship is going swimmingly #apex polarity #amymaleneart #y/n gives him the seashell necklace and internally barfs at their own audacity and expression of feelings #eclipse is swooning because they're now engaged #they are not the same

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zhuzhudushu · 2 months

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今天的成语 An Idiom I Learned Today

recently learned about a new idiom and thought i would share! not sure if it counts as a 成语 per se, since it is 8 characters instead of 4. nonetheless here it is.

三天打鱼，两天晒网 sān tiān dǎ yú, liǎng tiān shài wǎng

literally: fish for 3 days, sun-dry the net for 2 days figuratively: to lack perseverance; to not earnestly work toward something

example: 你要是三天打鱼两天晒网，那你永远不会进步。 If you "fish for 3 days but sun-dry the next for 2," then you won't ever improve.

it's the idea that if you work towards something for 3 days but then rest for 2, you're basically wasting your time and not putting in as much effort as you could—since you could be putting that effort in all 5 days.

it's definitely a very chinese concept 😅 i'm pro resting myself LOL

#chinese langblr #mandarin langblr #chinese learning #chinese #langblr #mandarin chinese #language learning #mandarin #learning languages #成语 #chengyu #idioms #vocab #zhuzhu rambles

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watercolorfreckles · 5 months

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The Pretty Prince of Avenglow

This is a secret santa snippet for @thepenultimateword ! Thank you for arranging this fun event for everyone, and for entrusting me with your prompt. I've been in a long writing rut, so this was really tough for me to finish on deadline. But I did it! I know this is far from the best thing I've ever written, but it is something! Hope you like it!

Her prompt was: "Fragile pretty boy x strong/buff lady. He is super smitten with her. This can be a hero x villian universe thing, or a prince and a lady knight, or a captured sailor/aristocrat/etc. and a pirate queen, or whatever you want, I just really love this type of relationship dynamic"

“Well, now, you must be the prettiest piece of treasure I’ve found all year.”

The prince coughed and spluttered, thrashing at the coils of fishing net that entangled his limbs. His clothes, sodden and leaden, seemed to weigh him to the deck.

“Shh, hush now,” the pirate captain before him spoke again, crouching to his level, balanced deftly on her booted heels. “I take excellent care of my belongings.”

The prince stilled, dragging his gaze up to meet hers. He nearly choked again, though all seawater had since been purged from his lungs.

The stories he’d heard, the wanted portraits pasted on village walls, paled in comparison to the figure leaning over him: Vespertine Crow, captain of the Evening Star.

His insides swirled.

She was a unique kind of beautiful, with long black hair twisted into a braid loosened and tousled by the sea’s salty breath. The contour of her silhouette struck him as statuesque, strong and muscled and gracefully carved. He imagined that she might be as impenetrable as stone, too.

“H-Hi,” he said dumbly.

Vespertine’s lips spread into an amused smile, sharp as the glittering knife twirling between her fingers. She wiggled her free hand in greeting. “Hi, pretty thing. I have to say, I hardly expected my nets to scoop up the Spare Prince, Evrin of Avenglow, soggy and half-drowned in the middle of the Tempest Sea. How serendipitous.”

As he swallowed, the prince's mouth felt abruptly dry. Though he couldn't see past the railing, he cast a nervous glance over his shoulder toward the sunken wreckage of the ship he'd spent days on, cooped up in a damp and creaky cell.

Captain Vespertine followed his gaze, then tilted her head. “Poor thing. Taken and held for ransom, were you?”

The memories flashed behind Evrin’s eyes. It was while he'd been visiting the village to check on his people that he'd been ambushed near the docks, plucked away from the fragile safety of land to be thrown on board the traitors’ ship.

He'd been helpless, no better than a spoiled house cat tossed into the bath.

Evrin managed a nod.

Vespertine made a pitying sound. “Sweet thing. Sinking that vessel was my doing. Aren't you going to thank me for saving your life?”

The knife in her hand moved and the prince jerked back.

Vespertine paused and tutted. “Now Your Highness, I could have nicked you. ‘Can't go risking that pretty face of yours, you should know better.” Her voice was a balm against the aching burn of him. Soothing, though the chill of it still had enough bite to nip at his nerves.

He stilled once more.

Unpicking the tangles of net with the edge of her blade, Vespertine cut him free.

It reminded him of a bird he'd freed once, legs and wings knotted up in fishing line. The mental comparison warmed his cheeks.

“That's better.” She tugged the shed netting over his head, tossing it aside and straightening onto her feet. A calloused hand extended out to him. “Up you get, pretty.”

Evrin hesitated, eyeing her hand. His limbs felt terribly heavy. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand if he tried. “Thank you, for….saving me.” The end of his sentence lifted into something more like a question.

That startled a soft laugh from the captain. Her eyes glittered with mischief, holding a Tempest Sea of their own. “My pleasure, Highness.”

When he didn't take her hand, Vespertine reached down, hands locking under his arms, and hauled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing at all. Wobbling on weary legs, he caught the pirate's sleeve, looking up at her.

His attention snagged on the fact that she was a few inches taller than him, and certainly far stronger. His belly did a stupid swoop.

“What are you going to do with me?”

“Mm… That is the question. Let's discuss it in my cabin, shall we?” Draping an arm around him, the pirate captain swept him away, leading him down below deck and into her quarters.

Her will was as irresistible as the moon's will over the tides.

Vespertine gave his chest a light shove and the prince buckled back onto her bed. Catching himself on his hands behind him, his fingers curled around the woolen blanket atop it. It scratched lightly at his fingertips.

Evrin put up no fight, dazed. She drew his gaze with the same allure as the sky and the bottomless sea. Beautiful, dangerous, powerful. Graceful in its dance of crest and fall.

He watched the captain as she rifled through her closet, pulling out a white, long-sleeved shirt with ties to lace the top, as well as a pair of gray trousers. “Here. I'm sure you'll feel much better when you're out of those clothes.”

The prince's cheeks warmed again. “You…want me to wear your clothes?”

“You're a delicate, skinny little thing, I'm sure you'll fit. Besides.” She unsheathed her sword, leveling it with his chest and using it to lift the fabric above his heart where his crest was attached. The prince's breath caught. “I'll need this from you to prove you're alive if I'm to collect the reward.

“Re…Reward?”

Vespertine shrugged. “I assume they prefer ‘reward’ to ‘ransom.’ One comes with a multitude of fewer threats and scandal. Which do you prefer, Highness?” She pressed the blade a fraction harder into his chest.

The prince itched to skitter away but kept still. “Reward is good,” he breathed.

“Good.”

She wielded her sword like an extension of her being, fluid and quicker than his eyes could track. There was a slash and then his princely crest was in the captain's hand. His eyes darted down to the bare square on his chest, in the spirit of every novel he'd read where the protagonist had been stabbed or harpooned and was too shocked to process the fatality.

His skin was unmarred.

Vespertine threw the clothes at the prince. “Get dressed, unless you're waiting for me to do it for you. I could be persuaded, if you say pretty please.”

Evrin’s cheeks burned at the thought, casting his gaze away from her and down to the clothes in his hands. Awkwardly, he peeled his shirt over his head.

“Smooth, pampered skin.” Vespertine tutted, sheathing her sword and stepping closer to trace a finger over the soft curve of his shoulder. “You've never seen a day of hardship, have you?”

Prince Evrin shivered, shrugging the clean shirt on. Its weight rested warm and gauzy against his skin. Embarrassed, he shucked his trousers off next, replacing them with the clean pair as quickly as he could manage under the pirate captain's stare.

“Not many, not of the physical variety, anyway,” he answered.

He straightened the clothes which fit surprisingly well, picking at the laces.

When he looked up again, she was grinning, blatantly pleased. “There, now. isn't that better? You look like a proper pirate. Very pretty.”

“Like you? I mean-” the prince squirmed, shifting to stand, then changing his mind. Submissive. “Sorry.”

She laughed again. “Sorry? For thinking I'm pretty? I'm flattered, sweetheart. You're quite lovely yourself. Now. Back to business.”

“...business?”

“Well, if I'm to return you safely, I expect a reward of… proper proportions. There's the money, yes, but I want something more from you.”

“O-Oh?”

Vespertine plopped onto the bed beside him, turning to face him. “Firstly, I want a pardon. A clean slate I can dirty all over again when it suits me.” She winked at him, and his heart fluttered between his ribs. “Secondly. Your brother took something from me. I want it back. You will get it for me.”

Transfixed, Evrin studied her face. “What did he take?”

She leaned closer to him, her gaze sharpening into something a fraction more dangerous. “My child.”

Evrin’s eyes widened. “Your child? Who–” He paused. “Iara? He said that she was an orphan; that he took her in to spare her a life of hardship and inequity.”

“Your brother lied.” Her voice was the crack of a whip; lightning striking water. When the prince startled, she softened only a fraction, looking him up and down. “You are…kinder than your brother, I can tell. Mousy, certainly, but. Sweet.”

“He is better fit to be king,” Evrin whispered. “Bolder and stronger and braver.”

“But crueler. Are you cruel, Prince Evrin?”

It seemed, suddenly, as though he was balancing on a very thin wire. He watched her face, tracking her every underlying thought.

“No. No, I’m not.”

Captain Vespertine smiled, the flash of a victory banner, and sat back. ��Good. Tell me, Pretty. Spare Prince of Avenglow. How would you like to be king?”

Merry Christmas!

General Taglist: @pinned-to-the-wahl, @valiantlytransparentwhispers, @distance-does-not-matter @redbircl, @lilaccatholic, @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @thelazywitchphotographer @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost @tobeornottobeateacher @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen , @silverwhisperer1 , @distractedlydistracted @pensivespacepirate , @appleejuicee , @deflated-bouncingball @maybe-a-cat42, @m0chik0furan, @mercurymomentum, @fairysprinkles , @vuvulia , @amongtheonedaisy , @rose-pinkie, @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room , @scorpio-smiles , @inkygemuwu , @wolfeyedwitch , @thewhumpmeisterx3000, @ikiiryo , @lem-hhn , @fanastywhump , @smallangryfish , @ladybookworm @freefallingup13 , @acaiaforrest , @a-blue-comedy , @puppyaddict , @talkingsperm , @qualitychaoslover , @deckofaces ,@7eselt , @annablogsposts , @lunatic-moss-studio , @medusas-hairband

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #my writing #pirate x prince #royalty romance #hero x villain #heroes and villains #secret santa 2023 #writers on tumblr #writblr #writerblr #creative writing #pirates #flash fiction #short story #writing snippet

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promptthebear · 9 months

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🐰 Edmund Pevensie #14 please

Edmund Pevensie x Reader- "Please, tell me this is not why you woke me up.”

Part 1/2 <- ***UP NOW!!!!***

Summary: Soulmate AU. Set during the "Golden Age", Edmund thinks he's doomed to be alone for the rest of his life. Until his fated match appears in the most unlikely of places. 2nd person, reader is written as "you"

A/N: Hey guys, sorry I've been go so long. Part two for this is literally being written right now and will hopefully be up very soon. I just thought I should give y'all SOMETHING to end the dry spell. Enjoy!

TW: None that I know of, but please message me if you need something tagged.

Rain was falling in sheets outside his study window, and the sound of the drops against the panes had soothed Edmund into a light doze. It was late, most likely past midnight, and his candles had burned down to almost stubs in their holders. He’d been reading for hours, lost in tomes of Narnian history and retrospects on ancient magic traditions. As fascinated as he’d been, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from growing heavy, and the blue velvet chair felt almost like a lover’s embrace.

Not that Edmund would have any idea what that actually felt like, though he could muster up a pretty good guess. Over the years, he’d watched his brothers and sisters find partners, wed, and have children of their own. Even little Lucy had been married last summer, leaving Edmund as the last bachelor among the family. That was one of the many reasons he’d been taking solace in his study over the last few weeks. He was plenty used to being alone, but there were only so many nights in a cold bed one could take before it started driving him a little mad.

Another man may have sought out comfort in the village pubs, but the idea of a hot, stuffy room and the press of drunken, sweaty bodies held about as much appeal to Edmund as driving straws under his fingernails. So, instead, he filled his waking hours in the company of books, often choosing to fall asleep among them than make the long, solitary walk back to his dark and empty chambers. This would be the third night in a row he’d spend here, and regardless of how Susan chided him that sleeping in his chair would ruin his back, Edmund also knew it wouldn’t be the last either.

A sudden, sharp rap at the door startled the young king from his near stupor. With a snort and a grumble, he rose from his chair, rubbing at his stiff muscles and silently cursing whoever chose to disturb him at this hour.

The hallway felt far too bright after the dim, golden light in the library, and for a moment after he opened the door, Edmund stood there, dazzled and blinking away stars from his eyes. When his vision cleared, he found himself staring into the face of one of the city guards. The young man seemed nervous, shifting from side to side and not quite able to meet Edmund’s gaze. Aside from the familiar uniform, the young man was little more than a stranger to him, and Edmund wondered why the captain would have sent someone so young to speak with one of the high kings.

“Your majesty. I beg forgiveness at the disturbance, would this matter have waited until morning I assure you I would not be here now.”

His voice betrayed his age, confirming Edmund’s suspicions that he was a new recruit, barely older than sixteen and almost twelve years his junior.

“Speak your piece and be on your way,” he replied, running a hand over his face to try and clear away any drowsiness that still clung on “It is far too late for either of us to be away from our beds”

The guard jumped at the sound of Edmund’s voice, and did some sort of half nod, half bow that made him look like a fish jerking around in a net.

“Again, my most sincere apologies your majesty. Once more, if it were not for the urgency of the situation I would not have caused you upset. My captain insisted that you be spoken with directly and that this message reach no ears but your own. I tried to tell him you’d be abed by now but-”

“Out with it, lad. The longer you speak, the longer the hour grows and the more weary I become.”

The edge to his words almost made Edmund wince. He hadn’t meant to be so sharp with the boy, but Susan had been right. Spending nights in his chair had made him incredibly sore, and had kept him from having a decent rest for far too long. The combination of both was not providing him with an overabundance of courtesy.

“We caught a pick pocket, your majesty. In the market, earlier this evening.”

Edmund reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to ease the throbbing that was starting to grow behind his eyes.

“Please, tell me this is not why you woke me up.”

Yes, Edmund acted as the King’s Justice and presided over all cases brought into court, even trifling ones like pick-pocketing. However, as far as he could tell, there was no reason something that simple would bring a guard to his door in the middle of the night.

“It is, your majesty”

“And? Have you all suddenly forgotten how to do your jobs? The thief can spend the night in lockup with your other petty criminals, and I’ll be there to preside over their trial in the morning. If that’s all you came to tell me, then I suggest you be on your way before I take it upon myself to serve you with a demerit and suspend you from service for the next week.”

The door was halfway closed when the young guard’s boot wedged itself between the door and the wall. Edmund stared down at it for a moment, trying to process the sheer gall of this otherwise seemingly placid young man. Nobody, in his recent memory, had ever kept him from closing a door when he wished. If he wasn’t contemplating sending this man to scrub out the barracks privvies for the rest of his natural life, he almost would’ve been impressed at his tenacity.

“Alright, that does it, I’m giving you until the count of three to get out of my sight and if you aren’t gone by two then so help me-”

“She has the mark, your Majesty”

It felt as though someone had just dumped a bucket of freezing water upon Edmund’s head. For a moment he stood, still as a statue while his mind raced at frantic speeds to try and make sense of what he was hearing. The lad had to be joking, there simply was no other explanation. This was all part of an elaborate prank someone was pulling on him, like Peter maybe, and Edmund would walk all the way down to the dungeons only to find a sow or donkey painted with a mark that matched his own rather than the girl he’d been promised.

He opened his mouth to tell the young guard he was a liar, along with a few other choice phrases, only to find his voice had left him. What was the worst that could happen, if he followed this boy? Experience told Edmund that he could end up being the kingdom laughingstock the next morning, but what of it? Most of his subjects, noble and common alike, either ridiculed him behind closed doors or pitied him to his face, which was somehow worse. The Lonely King, they called him. A solitary man in a world where everyone was fated to find their perfect match at some point or another. Would a lifetime of isolation be truly worth avoiding a few moments of ridicule?

The carved animals in the wooden door stared blankly back at Edmund, and though the flickering candlelight made their faces seem to dance and move among the shadows, they had no more answers for him than the young King had for himself. With a sigh, he clasped the edge of the door and pulled it open. It creaked loudly, a sound made louder still by the otherwise hushed air in the sleeping castle. The young guard waiting beyond started at the noise, and took a step back towards the far wall as though he expected Edmund to leap out and bite him.

Now standing in the full light of the hall, Edmund saw in earnest how young the guard really was. He may have been a youth of sixteen, but he had the face of a twelve or eleven year old, making him look like a squire rather than the soldier he was. A light dusting of fuzz across the boy’s cheeks, a hint of a beard, was the only thing to suggest he was near manhood and it made Edmund feel all the more guilty for being so hard on him.

“Come on,” he said, clapping a friendly hand down on the guard’s soldier as he moved past him “Let’s get this over with.”

#easter askbox event #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie x you #edmund pevensie #narnia fic #narnia imagines

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akwolfgrl · 3 months

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How sweet it is to be loved by them part 1

I've changed somethings it's now abo and going to be monster trio. Zoro and sanji are married alredy when they meet Luffy.

Luffy watch a blond head bob in the water as they drew closer to the shore. Luffy stood up in the boat and waved his arm excitedly. He was sure he'd have to wait till the grandline before meeting a mermaid! Yet thire they were clear as day.

“Hi!” Luffy called out to them.

“Luffy!” Koby whispered. “Stop, they could be dangerous!” Silly Koby, how was he supposed to become a marine if he was such a coward?

The mermaid stopped swimming and turned towards them before waving back and swimming towards them. He placed his arms against the top of their tiny boat, a net sling over one shoulder. His long blonde hair was the color of gold, yet far more precious, Luffy longed to run his fingers threw it. The shulder length hair was wet from the water curling at the ends, his blue eyes were the same color where the sky met the sea, he had curly eyebrows peeking out from his wet bangs. He had on two mismatched gold earrings, one was tear drop shaped and one had a blue heart dangling from its gold chain. His scent hit Luffy hard, spicy as Vaca atolada, yet salty and fresh like the crashing waves of the seas, a soft sugary drink hit the tip of his tongue allowing him to know they were an omega… no not AN omega but HIS omega

“Hello, what can I do for you?” The pretty mermaid omega asked.

“Are you a mermaid?” Luffy asked him, he was far too pretty not to be.

“Oh my Luffy! You can't ask people if they're mermaids!” Koby hissed at him as the mermaid laughed.

“No unfortunately I'm not,” He kicked his legs up willing his toes. “See no tail,”

“Hmm,” Luffy wasn't convinced but then again he could be hiding. After all, if he didn't want anyone to know he'd never say and deny the truth. “Then if you're not a mermaid what are you?”

“I'm a chef, I suppose a traveling chef now. I pick up work where I can,” He replied. “Sanji by the way, Luffy and who's your friend?”

“I'm Koby,”

“A chef!?” Luffy stomach growled causing the mermaid Sanji to laugh again.

“Come on you sound hungry, join me for breakfast. My house boat is just over there,” Sanji pointed towards the shore and a larger boat parked by the dock.

Luffy and Koby paddled their way over to Sanji's house boat. The blonde omega was climbing up into his home when they arrived. His long muscular legs and thighs were warped in a brightly colored swim trunks with fishes on them. He was slim with a tiny waist, his shoulders were broader than his own but he looked as if he was still growing into his body. He hung the net of crabs up to dry.

“Let me get dressed and I'll start breakfast. The galley is right through this door and to the left,” Sanji spoke, opening said door before turning right.

Luffy dragged Koby with him to the door and to the left. He took a seat at the small table egar to eat. Luffy could smell hints of anthoer alpha, but it was faded. The galley was warm and cozy, the cabinets painted a soft blue, the cupushioens on the chairs and benches, and darker blue. On the wall above his head was an empty sword rack. Thire were photos that littered the walls before Luffy could proprly look. Sanji returned wearing black slacks and a blue long sleve button-up, his long hair pulled back.

“Whata ya makein!” Luffy asked, sniffing the air. Whatever it was, it smelled like meat and bread.

“Cachorro com Ovo,” Sanji replied, rolling his sleeves up. Luffy watched as more skin was once more reviled.

“Mmmm I haven't had that in forever!” Luffy was excited. He loved food more than almost anything else. He was so happy his mate was a cook.

“What is it?” Koby asked.

“Dog with egg,” Luffy exspined. “Thire no dog, it's just bread with a meat stew with fried egg and tomatoes! It's like one of the few things Gramps knows how to make,” Sometimes after training, if Luffy did well, Gramps would make food as a reward.

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tealin · 10 months

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Antarctic Food

Below you will find my account of eating at McMurdo, but PBS did a whole special on it which has more privileged access and, like, moving pictures and stuff. I highly recommend watching that if you're at all interested in the food question.

As other pleasures in life are restricted or eliminated, food gains significance beyond mere nutrition. When removed from the comforts and diversions of civilisation for months or years at a time, polar explorers had to pay particular attention to the culinary side of their enterprise. Scott learned this the hard way on the Discovery, when their cook was so bad he was sent home after the first year and others took over his job in shifts. Shackleton, on his second visit to Antarctica, brought all sorts of tinned delicacies, and left a lot of them behind in his hut at Cape Royds, which the Terra Nova men would raid on day trips from Cape Evans. Scott was much more careful with his choice of cook on his second expedition, and in his journal he continually praises Clissold's cooking – though Atkinson, writing for a publication he knew no one would read, says that Archer (the ship's cook, who filled in after Clissold was invalided home) was a far superior chef, and made the miserable second winter that much more bearable.

The expeditions of the early 20th Century brought down crates and crates of imperishables – tinned vegetables, powdered milk and eggs, and dry goods like flour, sugar, and tea. These were necessary, of course, but were ultimately supplemental to the core of their diet, which was the produce of Antarctica itself. In fact, in a letter laying out contingency plans if the Terra Nova Expedition were stranded in Antarctica, Scott says not to worry for their safety because the continent provides enough food to keep a party happily fed; they would only be wanting the comforts of a civilised menu. Mostly what the continent provided was seals, whose meat (especially livers) contained enough Vitamin C to stave off scurvy, but penguins and their eggs also regularly passed through the kitchen, and the contents of the marine biologist's net – once properly enumerated and dissected, of course – would often end up in the frying pan. The Notothenia fish was commonly eaten at breakfast, appreciated for its 'sweet' and 'nutty' flavour. Notothenia’s claim to fame is the sugar in its blood that acts as an antifreeze, so this is hardly a surprise.

Thanks to the Antarctic Treaty forbidding the killing of animals for consumption, modern Antarctic larders are not stocked with local wildlife, and as far as I know, no one down there now has tasted the sweetness of Notothenia. They do, however, have the advantage of modern transport and food storage, not to mention a century's worth of advances in the study of nutrition, so the diet of the present-day Antarctican is fresher, healthier, and much more diverse.

McMurdo Station's annual food supply arrives in one lump delivery, every January, on a big cargo ship from California. From the harbour where the Discovery berthed, it goes into climate-controlled storage, either to the dry goods store or to the freezer, which is a whole building off the cafeteria in the main station hub. A freezer, in Antarctica? Why, yes, because food safety regulations require frozen food to be kept at a constant temperature, and the only way to ensure that is to build an enormous manmade freezer in the land of ice and snow. In the summer, temperatures at McMurdo will wander around freezing, so this is entirely practical, but for much of the year, it's actually warmer inside the freezer than outside.

The modern Antarctic commissariat is not entirely divorced from its Edwardian predecessor, though – frozen vegetables taste fresher than tinned, and are more nutritious and palatable, but they are not fresh; powdered milk and powdered eggs are still the status quo. During the summer, perishable groceries – called 'freshies' – come down on the flights from New Zealand, if there is room after the passengers and equipment are loaded. After a month of flight cancellations, fresh apples and oranges are greeted with as much delight as they were on the arrival of relief ships in the Heroic Age, and the appearance of a salad bar in the Galley prompts general rejoicing.

The US Antarctic Program has its roots in the Navy, and McMurdo is still provisioned by one of the big firms that supplies the US military. Having had experience with industrial-scale American catering in California, I had moderate expectations of the quality of food at McMurdo, but it was surprisingly good. One might argue that the excitement of being there and the daily energy expenditure would be a good sauce for anything, and this may be true, but against this I would argue that dry air impedes one's ability to taste – that fact it was so flavourful at all is significant. People kept apologising for the food in the Galley and I kept telling them, earnestly, that it was better than the food in the Disney commissary. They didn't believe me, but I firmly attest this; I ate at Disney on my return journey and have confirmed it by direct comparison. I know they were working with roughly the same quality of ingredients, but the chefs at McMurdo reliably made things delightful to eat, which is more than I can say for the other place. Why this should be is anyone's guess ... Working as a Galley Rat is one of the few ways enthusiasts can get down to the Ice, so it's full of keen, intelligent, and curious cooks, and maybe that rubs off on the food. There are people who come back to tackle the unique challenges of Antarctic cuisine year after year, so maybe they're more experienced and invested in the job. My personal theory is that because they have to eat the food, too, of course they're invested in making it tasty – I suspect the folks behind the counter in LA have much better meals waiting for them when they get home.

Mealtimes follow a strict schedule:

5:30-7:30 Breakfast (many a time I missed the cutoff, woe)

11:00-13:00 Lunch

17:00 to 19:30 Dinner. There was always a portion of the cafeteria serving breakfast food at this time; this was reserved for the night shift workers, who got a reprise of the day shift's dinner for their lunch. If you really liked whatever was served for dinner, nothing could stop you coming around again for another go at midnight.

The one exception to this was Sunday, when a brunch would be served from 10 to 12. The service in the chapel started at 10 as well, and was very weak competition. Brunch was always excellent, and being the single day off, was often where one would meet up with people who were too busy during the week.

If you failed to make a mealtime for any reason, there was always something on offer. A fridge would be stocked with packaged leftovers, sandwiches, and other food-to-go – when I had a day out, I would eat breakfast and then grab my lunch from this fridge. On one occasion, dinner included fried okra (one of my faves, rarely had outside the States) and after stuffing myself with it, I nabbed two or three extra portions and cached them in my dorm room mini-fridge to enjoy later.

In a challenging environment, with a lot of people doing energy-intensive jobs, calories are important. There was only one rule regulating portions: Take what you want, but eat what you take. With a finite amount of food on hand, and delivery only once a year, food waste is anathema – if you need it, then eat it, but do not throw any away.

The menu seemed to originate with whatever presented itself in the enormous freezer, though perhaps in November and December it was dictated more by what remained in it, prior to the new shipment. We didn't suffer for want of variety, though: if anything, we benefited from a surfeit of prawns, including great bowls of them at Sunday brunch. I found myself wondering if the US military had a contract for most of the catch from the Gulf, and how much of their famously inflated budget went into that; I suspect, in reality, the kitchen just hit a seam of prawn in the recesses of the freezer and had to use it up. As a devotee of all shapes of sea bug, I was in seventh heaven, and did my level best to help McMurdo clear the surplus.

Once new food was defrosted and cooked up, it would cascade through various dishes down the week, as leftovers were repurposed to minimise waste. Usually this was successful, but sometimes they had to try a little harder ...

A variety of cuisines were offered, some of which were more successful than others. They seemed to reflect the makeup of the US military, for whom the rations would have been designed. The best dishes were the meat-and-potatoes variety (my minder said that if she were on Death Row, she'd ask for McMurdo Pot Roast for her last meal), Italian, Southern (see above re: okra), and what I assume was Tex Mex – the only misstep on the last count was an almost inedibly hot 'taco soup' which may have been more of a delivery vehicle for leftovers than an intentional dish. The only disappointments were anything attempting to be Asian, and the fish, which, due to the circumstances, was always overcooked. Provision was always made for vegetarians and even vegans, but I can't say I noticed many people adhering strictly to those diets. I suppose if the animals are already dead and in the freezer, there's little difference whether you eat them or not.

There was also, always, pizza. It was left in one of those tiered heated racks like you get at a buck-a-slice takeaway pizzeria, but this was no buck-a-slice pizza, this was McMurdo pizza, and McMurdo pizza is AMAZING. My brother-in-law's cousin went to super legit pizza school in Naples, and gets queues down the street wherever he opens a pizzeria. He makes the best pizza I have ever had anywhere; McMurdo’s wasn't quite as good as his, but it was pretty darn close. It's a testament to how good the rest of the food was that I didn't just have pizza for every meal. The pizza kitchen runs 24 hours a day, and takes orders for pickup from all across the base. If you're flying out to a field camp, it's good manners to take their pizza order and deliver it to them hot and fresh. For all the advances in food technology since the Heroic Age, surely the greatest has to be the McMurdo Pizza.

We were reminded constantly how important hydration was, and the Galley offered a range of liquids at all hours. To my surprise, what looked like a soda fountain offered not pop but fruit juice – grapefruit, orange, cranberry, and apple, though one or more often ran out before the end of breakfast. There were enormous urns of extremely weak coffee – a provision, I supposed, for its diuretic effects – though with 10-hour workdays and very early starts, a little more oomph would have gone a long way. Experienced hands, and those of discerning tastes, brought their own coffee or sourced it somehow from the stores. The kitchenette in the Crary library was full of people's personal coffee-making supplies as they sought a more effective brew.

I had been warned that if I liked tea, I should bring my own; this was a sound warning, as the black tea on offer looked and smelled as though it had been on a shelf for about a decade. What I had not been warned about was that the only 'milk' on hand for one's coffee or tea was, in most places, 'coffee whitener', a ubiquitous Americanism which I'd completely forgotten about (or supressed?) since moving away. For those who've not had the privilege of its acquaintance, this is a blend of margarine, sugar, synthetic vanilla, and titanium dioxide, rendered into a powder by some unknown chemical process and packaged up to pass for milk. (I think it might be illegal in Europe. I've certainly not seen it around.) The Galley had the base's only dispenser of actual mammalian lactation – reconstituted from powdered, of course. If I were to go again, I would bring a small bottle to fill there with 'real' milk, which I could take away for tea purposes elsewhere. There were boxes of UHT milk available for purchase in the shop, and had I been staying longer I might have invested in some, but for just a splash per cuppa, it hardly seemed worthwhile.

The undisputed star of the Galley was the soft serve ice cream dispenser, named Frosty Boy (or Boi), an ancient beast that was such an institution that it was rumoured the USAP had bought another one from a junkyard just for parts. The Thing to Do was, instead of putting milk or coffee whitener in your coffee, to use a dollop of Frosty Boy instead – I'm not sure which end of the dairy/non-dairy spectrum his product was nearest, but it did go well in the coffee, such as it was. More often than not while I was there, Frosty Boy exuded only a watery splutter rather than creamy delight – even when he was working, the product was rather gritty – but I was assured he was just going through a phase, and would be right again soon. I got the impression that if anyone tried replacing the machine with something more reliable, or which produced something more resembling ice cream, there'd be a protest. We shall see if Frosty Boy survives the station revamp, as the NSF seems keen to scrub out any vestiges of character ...

I have brought two things back from the McMurdo Galley, and they're things that go right back to the beginning: powdered milk and powdered egg. Even when I'm near a shop with both in fresh form, it's convenient to have the powdered on hand for recipes. I really only use milk to splash in my tea and coffee, so don't keep a large amount in my fridge, but recipes often call for far more than I have – so instead of making a trip for the extra, I can just mix it up on demand. I've also taken on the Perpetual Yoghurt: McMurdo makes its own yoghurt from its vast reserves of powdered milk, using a bit of the last batch to inoculate the next, and it turns out this is perfectly doable at home, too. Eggs eaten as eggs are better fresh, of course, but when providing structure in a recipe, no one's going to notice if they've been reconstituted, and then I can save my 'real' eggs for when they'll be appreciated. It's a good system, and economical, too. Alas, the pizza isn't as easy to replicate at home ...

For more information on McMurdo food – The Antarctic Sun newsletter put out this podcast: https://antarcticsun.usap.gov/features/4329/ I didn't mention how good the desserts were; I was lucky enough to share my time at McMurdo with Rose McAdoo, who was featured in this story on NPR: https://text.npr.org/779463164

#antarctica #food #mcmurdo station #cuisine #resourcefulness #powdered milk #frosty boi #pizza

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