#AND LIKE THE THING IS TOO THAT EVEN FISHING LURES ARE COLORFUL. WHY ARE WE ONLY USING PASTEL PINK AND GRAY AND NAVY AND SHIT FUCK YOU

[magicdyke]

little things are more disappointing to me than the rich people idea of what "nautical" themed clothing is. the colognes are all shitty and smell like someone dunked their head into a tub of axe, all the shoes and shirts are dorky as hell, and everything is bullshit pastel-y or grays and blues. do you think this reads as the sea? do you think this reads as someone who spends time on the waves, or is it someone who pretends to on instagram while making someone else do it? why have we as a society decided that rich ppl choose what nautical theming is. it's so lifeless it's like every other rich white people preppy ass trend is. uncreative boring unimaginative. sea life is so beautiful and colorful and bright why can't you take inspiration from that instead of the inside of a golf shop. i hate you.

[nelapanela94]

TW: Angst. Miscarriage. Hurt/Confort

Happiness vanishes like a dream under the bright morning light.

“Guess what?” You bombard him with a machine gun of kisses at close range, taking his lips again and again as your arms snake around him, wielding his chest with your chest. When the belt runs out of bullets, you drink in his startle face as he stretches his arm to the console table and drops the keys on the ashtray.

“Do I chill the wine?” His lips seal on yours as his hands anchor to your waist, then his mouth pulls apart. “Though I don’t know what we’re celebrating.”

You shake your head, the corners of your lips pinned up to your cheeks. “I’ll have to replace wine for tea ‘till next spring.”

“Did you bet with someone?” He raises a brow.

“No silly.” Another peck. You fish out something from the pocket of your dress and hold it out on your palm. A baby sock, yellow like the newborn petal of a tulip.

Levi steps back in shock, white specks dancing in his eyes like a glinting night sky pouring down onto a restless lake. He chokes in his words as he tries to scoop them out, opening his mouth and closing it again like a gasping fish. Happy tears swell in his lower lash lines, his heart leaping up with joy.

“Le–“ His hands hook firm at your waist and next second, your feet are whisking the air. Your skirt eddies as the living room and the main door blur, the objects becoming streaks of colors on the bone white background. When you brain ducks back into place, you’re sitting on the couch, curled on Levi’s chest as he pampers you in a shower of kisses.

“Levi” You try to lean away, scrunching your face at the tickles but he doesn’t let you escape from his arms.

“I can’t believe you’re pregnant.” He murmurs in your neck.

“We are pregnant, Levi.”

“Right. We.” He nestles his face into the crook of your neck, sniffling, something warm and moist infusing your skin. Your eyes soften, and your hand threads with his.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you, and I love the little brat growing in you.” Your locked hands land on your tummy, and a winsome smile blooms on your lips.

“I love you too, Levi. We love you too.”

*

Bent at the knees, your legs are folded one on top of the other; your head roosted on your hand, elbow perched on the armrest. You watch him with endearment as he upends the shopping bags on the rug and a flimsy chuckle seeps from you. “It’s still a little bean, Levi.” He has been taking the same route from home to work and back for more than four years and had never noticed the baby store. It's like it just showed up the day after he found out he was going to be a dad. And since then, not a day can go by without him checking out all the items displayed in the windows. Today, lured by the pastel colors and lullabies, he walked in. He peered around, unable to decide on only one thing, so he resolved by taking home half the store in his hands.

The floor in your living room hides under the scattered toys and plushies, weekly onesie sets from months zero to six, wool caps, pairs of socks of the colors of the rainbow in their pastel version, baby blankets, even a baby bathtub, oh, and the shoes. A pair of caramel brown baby booties.

You know why he’s doing this, and it melts your heart. He wants his baby to have all the things he never had. And more.

He barely talks of his childhood, having given you scanty crumbs since you met, shards that you can’t yet put together in the picture. You know it’s hard for him to delve in that chest. He saw things that a child–no, that anyone should witness in their life.

“Do you think they’ll like all this?”

“They’ll love it, Levi.” You beckon him with a curling finger, and he toddles in his knees to you, flinging your shirt up to plant kisses on your tummy.

“Oi, brat! Wanna know how mom and I met?”

You roll the eyes, lacing your fingers through his hair.

“Ok, let’s listen to dad’s version.”

It was an early summer night in which you had to strain your shift because of a nagging customer who couldn’t wait until next day for his product mockup. Drenched and shivering, you trotted to the nearest bus stop, rain pelting on your shoulders like hundreds of marbles. And there he was, standing under the Perspex roof, black hair slick onto his forehead, a white button up shirt–translucid–showing off his taut, rippling muscles. He was rocking on his heels, hands jammed into his pockets, averting his gaze. Slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it was you ogling at his chest, though you couldn’t help yourself. You tried to fixate in another direction, but your eyes swung back to him as if they were magnets and him an iron stick. What kind of lunatic wears suspenders with a belt?

Fiddling with your earring, you yelled over the rain. “Has the A26 long since passed?”

“Haven’t seen it.” His sexy, raspy voice encroached the desperate tapping on the roof. “Been here for five minutes.”

Your heart was galloping, vying with the frenzy of the downpour.

“Y/N.”

“Uh?” His face snapped to you, eyebrows rising.

“That’s my name.” You lift your chin and scratch an itch under your jaw. “This is when you tell me yours.”

“Why should I?” He grins, and tingles seized your inner thighs. Your face grew hot with embarrassment, and you wished your ride came soon, but there wasn’t any sing of those flashing yellow lights.

“Levi.”

Levi. You rolled it in your head. “Levi.” You rolled it in your mouth, and he smiled.

And it seemed as if the universe was mocking you. You took a step backwards, and your heel got stuck in a crack, causing you to lose your balance.  You scrambled forward, your arms floundering in the air trying to hold onto something, but there wasn’t anything else but him. Steel gray eyes opened wide in alert, and when he stepped in to cushion your fall, your lips fell on his too.

“She kissed me. Can you believe that? And she only knew my name.”

“I didn’t kiss you.” You whack him on the shoulder. “It was an accident.”  

The most beautiful accident.

You awkwardly exchanged numbers and the rest is history.

*

“Are you ok?”

Rucking up your face, you stir in bed, bent down holding your belly. “Yeah, it’s just a bad cramping, Maybe I ate too many tacos.”

He pulls the chain of his lamp and rubs his eyes. His heart springs dry in his chest when he spots the bright crimson stain in the sheets. He tosses the covers away, trying not to panic as his heart thrashes in trepidation, hands fumbling, blood scorching through his veins.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You’re sweating, lightheaded. All you remember is Levi’s dead worried face, the raucous sirens of the ambulance, blue and read lights lapping the front of your building.

“I’m sorry.” The doctor says and the world crashes, your world, swept away by a train with no brakes. The mid forties bearded man taps his pen on the clipboard. “In a few weeks you can try again.”

Do they even teach empathy in med school?

Levi can’t think of anything worse than seeing the love of his life in pain and not be able to fix it. Your sadness is his sadness and he’d carry it around with him like buckets full of rocks for the last of his days if that means you didn’t have to endure the weight.

Seeing you like this, soulless, is chipping the rims of his hearts like his old favorite mug. He wants to reach out but doesn’t know how to.

“Hug me.” You mumble and he slips into the hospital bed, warming you in his arms. “I’m sorry.” Your chest feels heavy as if a balloon were swelling, depriving you of air. “I’m sorry.” You stutter, chin wobbling, and the dam of tears breaks.

Fat gulps rack through you as you emotionally collapse in his chest, filling the room with your sobbing and weeping, each one a stab to his heart.

He knows what thoughts are scratching at your head, torturing you with their sharp claws. That you must defective, that you’re not woman enough to bear his child.

You clutch to his shirt, burying your face in his chest. “Forgive me,” And the room that was going to be your baby’s, the crib Levi already assembled, the toys and clothes. You want to tear it all apart, and pretend it never happened.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” He takes a long, easing breath. “Don’t you blame yourself. Please.” His voice travels along a wire about to snap, hanging by a single thread, resisting.

Though he’s not sure it will hold any longer.

He palms your face in his hand, and you look up at him. “Please.” He utters.

“Only if you stop playing being the strongest.” Your palm strides to his chest. “Promise me.”

He nods, eyes red and glistening with the represses tears. Fuck. He was so excited to be a dad. His browsing history was packed with websites of first time father’s advise, lists of names and their meanings; he could picture himself pushing swings in the park, becoming the tooth fairy and Santa. Having tea parties in the living room, dressed like a princess or a knight or Buzz light year. He had never felt his heart flitting with such outburst of joy when you drop the news, like the day you said yes to his question.

He did want to be a dad.

Give that little bean everything he yearned when he was a child.

And with that, the last thread breaks.

[hermit-called-he]

BOLD

You make me feel so goddamn bold

I don’t know where I got all of this confidence, truth be told 

Maybe the quarantine is really getting to my brain 

Oh there is so much to gain 

I can’t believe I asked you for dinner on Valentine’s Day

You haven’t texted back yet and that fills me with dismay 

I am such an anxious girl oh my god 

I don’t know why you don’t think me oh so very odd

I feel like the dumbest person alive right now 

And that feeling is really hitting me like the full force of a snow plow 

This is all illogical, I know 

But I can’t help it when my thoughts decide they want to go to and fro 

God this feels like a new low 

I am ashamed of how often you are on my mind

I talk about how much I adore you all the goddamn time 

I’m miserable right now just analyzing my behavior 

I feel like this crush is slowly absorbing all of my personality’s flavor 

I’m so tempted to take my offer back but I shouldn’t be a coward about something like this 

God I really do destroy myself 

I just wish I could be in a state of naive bliss 

Why do you have to occupy most of the room on my thought shelf? 

I feel like I’m shrinking slowly, maybe even becoming a little elf 

You might think me bold on the surface but I’m all nerves underneath 

My thoughts go round and round so much they could form a giant Christmas wreath 

What makes you so special that I just have to talk about you all the time? 

Is it your love of Trek? Our lovely discussions about Who? The fact that you think not giving everyone equality should be a crime? 

God I walk such a fragile line 

I don’t want to be that girl that is too obvious but how else would you know I’m so engrossed in every part of you? 

I live for your sarcastic repartee and all those little other texting things you like to do

You keep me on my feet and I dream, 

Dream so hard about what it would be like to love you for a long time 

Somehow that feels like a huge crime 

As I’m writing this, I feel moments away from crying

Waiting for you to answer makes me feel like I’m lowkey dying 

I know you’re making your way to my location right now 

But god do I wish you could be here somehow 

I feel like a failure in the flesh

The boldness might just make me plummet to my untimely death 

I really don’t want us to be put in the position where I force you to break my heart 

That seems like an unfair course of action to chart 

I promise I don’t think you’re anything more than human 

I know people are quick to say that people like us are incredible, that we’re superhuman 

We both know we have flaws and if I might be honest, sir 

Yours are only more endearing the more I learn about them 

I’m drawn to you like a fish to a lure 

And with my dislike of feeling, this all makes me feel so very grim 

You make me want to be bold

Not because you are, obviously, I know you better than to think that

But you inspire me to venture out a little into the cold 

I wish I didn’t overthink it so much since it makes me feel like complete crap 

I don’t want to feel this level of sad over things I can’t control 

I need to stop imagining that you are the guy I win when I reach the goal 

That sounds so fucked up ugh 

I should stop trying to make your heartstrings tug 

I’m such a useless person at finding people who would love me like that 

I have too many trust issues which causes me to push everyone away 

I’m as jumpy as a terrified cat 

I just want to stop being so terribly affected by everything that you say 

So yes, this is where being bold gets me 

It gives me so much anxiety that I want to scurry up and hide in the branches of a tree 

I know if you saw these you’d tell me all my worrying is useless 

But that’s probably because you don’t think I should see myself as loveless 

You try to paint my world full of optimistic colors 

That makes me feel so goddamn happy that you think I should be in love with myself before I turn to others 

I can’t bring myself to agree because I’m so paralyzed by the fact you even like me 

Is this what years of being told I shouldn’t toe the line gets me? 

I suppose it is, especially if I consider simply asking you to grab dinner with me to be particularly risky 

I don’t know what to feel now, perhaps I should stop rambling and make myself another form of busy

[thepenultimateword]

Sweet Dreams

Part One Part Two

'Next time' arose quicker than Henchman expected.

Ever since the, er, 'cuddling incident', they'd been very deliberate to reserve places with plenty of separate sleeping space. Even today, they'd had a perfect setup reserved in Lenfirn, the city several hours away that was to be tonight's rest stop, an AirBnB with completely separate bedrooms. That way Henchman wouldn't have Villain's restless sleep waking them up in the middle of the night, eating away at them, luring them anxiously to their side--they never knew they could worry for someone so much. And it all would have worked out if those persistent heroic nuisances didn't start a patrol right within the next city, essentially barricading them from their final destination. News had it they were even roving the highway.

Could the heroes have found out which type of car they were driving? Should they switch vehicles? Without any answers to those questions, the best thing they could think to do was to get off the road. Thus the last-minute reservation in this dingy 2-star hotel near the city center.

The two of them now stood in the hotel's humid hallway, the air smelling much too strongly of lemon carpet cleaner, as Henchman fished the keycard out of its envelope.

Villain had their hand ready on the door handle, a sly grin creeping up their jaw as they slowly suspected what Henchman already knew. Henchman pressed the card to the panel and as the lock beeped and flashed green, Villain caught Henchman's eyes.

“Let’s see what we have behind door B25," they announced dramatically, like the host in a game show getting ready to reveal the prize. It really had become an almost sort of game between them over the last week and a half, Henchman's vague descriptions of rooms, Villain always swinging the door open with a flourish at each stop. They never showed it for long, but the criminal always seemed slightly disappointed each time they found two beds. Henchman wasn’t exactly sure how to take that.

This time Villain gave the door a hefty shove, leaving their palm spread in the air as the heavy piece of oak slammed into the doorstop.

“Ah ha!” they cried, bounding over to the Queen bed and its ugly yellow bedspread in the center of the room. "What an unprecedented predicament. I suppose we'll have to talk out some sort of sleeping arrangement."

Henchman held in a chuckle as they followed close behind with the duffel bags. They'd never seen Villain giddy before. Of course, it was all tinged with the usual predatory tone, but excitement looked almost...cute on them. Not that that was changing their mind.

“I can take the floor," they said firmly.

Villain frowned. “Why? It’s a perfectly big bed with space for both of us.”

Henchman's heart thunked too fast in their chest, but they'd prepared for this on the way over. All they had to do was give one of the many excuses they'd come up with.

"I don't think it's appropriate given our professional dynamic. Boss, employee. It's a mess waiting to happen."

"We're only sleeping."

"Yes, but still..."

Villain cocked their head, eyes drinking them in bit by bit as they waited for a better explanation of what Henchman had believed to be a pretty airtight excuse.

"People might...think things. Spread rumors..." Just saying it made their ears burn; they hoped that heat wasn't accompanied by color.

Villain rose one brow, "Are you going to tell anyone?"

It almost sounded like a warning, and Henchman shrank between their shoulders.

"W-well...no."

"Neither am I."

"Ah."

Henchman wrung their hands together, rubbing their thumb over the tight, pale skin of their first knuckle as they tried to ignore the sting of that statement as well as remember another reason to stay at an arm's length.

"If sleeping next to me makes you uncomfortable you can say so," Villain said. "I already told you I wouldn't force anything unwanted."

That should have been their out. It was perfect. Pre-packaged by Villain and not even required to say it themselves. They just had to nod and move on. But for some reason they found themselves spluttering an awkward, "N-no!"

The problem wasn't that Henchman didn't want to; it was that they wanted it too much. It was like a flip switched inside them that night, turning distant admiration into odd electric feelings. They could hold it off for now, but being that close to Villain again might just do them in. And that was not a stew Henchman wanted to be mixed up in. Even if Villain wasn't disgusted, they still weren't the type of person Henchman should get too close to. Like Villain said, they were a spider, Henchman was a bug allowed to live.

"What's the problem then?" Villain said.

I might like you, Henchman answered internally, but aloud they only said, "I...well... It's just that..."

They couldn't think of anything. They were a snorer, they moved around a lot in their sleep, they hogged the covers: none of it was going to be enough. Only the truth might do it, and they just couldn't...

"No problem," they finally said. "We can share."

Villain narrowed their eyes. "You know, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” Henchman's heartbeat felt like it had leaped up into their throat, restricting their responses to two words. Maybe they didn't have to, but wouldn't going back and forth so much only make Villain more curious? By this point they just wanted the interrogation to end before they spilled.

“If it really makes you uncomfortable—“

“It’s fine.”

"Sure?"

"Yep," Henchman said and immediately turned to begin unpacking their bags. They felt Villain's piercing eyes trailing them between the open duffels and the dresser, but they did their best to ignore the thrilling shiver running down their spine.

"Then I'll be going first," Villain said eventually, breaking their intense study to grab a t-shirt and sweats from Henchman's arms. They plucked their toiletry bag out of a side pocket on their way to the bathroom. A few minutes later, Henchman heard the shower running.

They paused their work to rub their palm frustratedly into their forehead with a deep sigh.

They really hoped they didn't end up mortifyingly embarrassed. Or dead.

***

Henchman hovered nervously by the edge of the bed, the air conditioning wafting up one leg of their wafer-thin pajama shorts and sending a little tremble through their entire body that rocked them up onto the tips of their toes. They wished it was a little darker in here.

"Sleeping on the floor after all?" Villain said, as much a provocation as it was a real offer. They were already tucked under the covers, looking way too casual for an overlord of a criminal empire to ever appear. Yes, they'd been traveling together for over a month now, but Henchman had always been careful to train their eyes on something else while Villain was getting ready for bed. They then turned the lights off as quickly as possible. The alterior domestic familiarity was much too awkward.

"N-no," Henchman said and quickly slid under the mustard blanket's thick fabric. The bed wasn't quite so comfortable as the first one, but they had to admit it was better than the scruffy carpet on the floor. That stuff was bound to give them a rash for how soaked it was in cleaner, scent maskers, and who knew what else.

"You can get closer," Villain said, smirk clear in their voice. "I won't bite."

Henchman scooted away from the mattress seam and a little closer to the center. They were a pillow's space away from each other, but Henchman could almost feel the warmth of Villain's shoulder across the gap.

They fixed their gaze on their ceiling, ignoring Villain's watchful eyes and the terrifying urge to turn over on their side and face them head-on. A police siren wailed down the street outside the window, painting the curtains red and blue. Henchman's hands fisted the blankets.

"What's on your mind?" The sheets rustled as Villain shifted, and that gap got just a little bit smaller.

"They've never gotten this close before," Henchman murmured. "All this time we've been a few steps ahead. How are we going to get out of the city tomorrow?"

Villain stretched their long limbs. "We won't. Not with the whole group in one place. Guess we're stuck here."

"For how long?" Henchman squeaked.

"Villain shrugged. "Until the heroes come up fruitless and move on."

Henchman didn't know how Villain could sound so calm about this. There were heroes out on the streets looking for them right now, and if they found them... Well, they'd overheard enough of Villain's night terrors to know it wouldn't be pretty.

Not to mention the bed situation.

Maybe their trembling was traveling through the bed because Villain's hand suddenly grasped around their neck, forcing Henchman's eyes toward their own. They'd gotten a little closer in the meantime too.

"Are you afraid of heroes?"

Henchman shook their head stiffly. "Not of fighting them. That's why I'm here. But being hunted down...yes."

"Anticipation," Villain acknowledged slowly, "is a terrible disease. It sets the mind to panic and the stomach to sickness. Ignore it the best you can. Or you'll spoil your meals."

They sounded confident enough, but all Henchman could think about was that such advice had to come from somewhere. Villain had suffered, still suffered, at the hands of self-proclaimed peacemakers. The question slipped out before they could stop themself.

"Are...you...afraid of heroes?"

Villain's grip on their neck tightened enough to make Henchman gasp. It was a loud exhale mixed with a short yelp, and it immediately caused Villain to drop their arm around the back of their shoulders instead. They looked down directly into Henchman's eyes, that original gap basically nonexistent now.

"A rat doesn't run from what it's not afraid of."

It was vague on purpose, but yes. It was a yes. Henchman searched Villain's gaze for a hint of that fear, but all that stared back was blank glass and their own startled reflection.

Villain leaned in to Henchman's ear. "Turn off the lights."

Henchman jolted, quickly tearing out of Villain's hold and fumbling for the lamp knob. When they leaned back into their spot, Villain had retreated back onto their own side.

Henchman stared at their back, counting the rumples in their t-shirt, itching to pinch a fold between their fingers, as if it might be able to give them the same comfort they had a week ago. The protective air wasn't quite as strong when they weren't in Villain's arms, but at least their presence still radiated the bed's radius with some security.

After a few minutes, they flipped the other direction as well.

Space. Right. It's what they'd wanted.

Eyes squeezed shut, they snatched onto the first wave of sleep to wash over them and let it drag them down into peaceful darkness. Vllain's sleep must have been well too because Henchman didn't awake until late morning when they found themselves cuddled up at Villain's side once again. Though it was a little...different this time.

Henchman blinked at the fabric several times, nose buried inch-deep in its musky softness, before they realized where they were: wrapped around Villain's waist, forehead pressed firmly between their shoulder blades.

They moved to jerk away, but Villain immediately flipped around and caught them up in their arms. How long had they been awake?!

Villain's face paused just above them, eyes gleaming.

Henchman froze. Even their breathing stopped. It was like that gaze had them pinned down to the spot while their wolfish smile skinned them down to their core. When they found it--the terror, the intrigue, the attraction--their grin grew even wider.

"Good morning, my dreamcatcher."

This is sort of a mess, but I really felt like writing it sooo...😅

Part Four

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstonee @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckless @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps

[ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa]

Merman & a Siren AU (saiouma)

In this au they aren't considered mythical or anything, people know of them and live alongside mermaids

It's not unusual for mermaids to get in relationships with humans, work in either entertainment or where swimming is a needed skill, Shuichi's parents are still famous in that world

Sirens however get all the bad rep, they're seen as primitive predators, kinda like sharks except extremely often also sexualized at the same time, people are scared of them, mermaids hate them and do nothing to clear those misconceptions about sirens being less civilized

more world building: sirens are intersex and don't have the concept of gender, that's related to the plot because that's one of the two aspects of how mermaids and sirens started to hate each other. The first and main one was that mermaids wanted to live in a merged society with humans, they were interested in leading human-like lifestyles, sirens were strongly opposed like I already said, but mermaids contacted people anyway and were faced with all the ideas people had about them and explaining why sirens aren't a part of that conversation so they went along with pushing anything negative people thought on "Oh, that's sirens, we don't do that" and that's where it becomes important, the timeline is - people hunted sea creatures from ancient times to late middle ages with even further delay in some places - mermaids contacted people in the early 1800s because of the romanticism era, people seemed more open to mythical/paranormal stuff so they took their chances, but we're speaking of Europe so it was still a very Christian world so people had concerns about myths where they get lured into the sea by those beautiful half naked ladies and mermaids were like "they're not even ladies but they do lure their food in with singing" and the church was like "that's worse" - since then mermaids adopted some of the human believes and a lot of their culture so they became a lot more prudish to fit in with people and yes, they have capitalism. So they view the fact that sirens don't label themselves as deviant, they feel the same way about them living in packs rather than nuclear families.

For sirens clothes and jewelry are just decorative things they have no need for, but for mermaids clothes are a necessity and jewelry is a sign of status

Sirens aren't allowed in mermaid cities and usually don't try to get close to them, they perceive mermaids as shallow and are off-put (if not to say outraged and disgusted) by their choice to live in harmony with humans who used to hunt them and still have all those gross stereotypes about sirens

since it's been 200 years of separation the younger generations are losing the idea of what the other community is like or that they used to mix at all, for example Ouma's tail is atypically vibrant in color for a siren because he has some mermaid ancestors he doesn't even know about

On how closely they're related: if different types of mermaids were different breeds of dogs then sirens would be wolves (but they have variety too)

Shuichi is a merman, while both his parents are celebrities with typical bright shiny looks mermaids estabilished as their beauty standard, he dislikes standing out and refuses to wear jewelery like they do, his tail is also kinda dark and again - not shiny, maybe a bit when near surface

Kokichi is a siren who really wishes he was a mermaid, not that they're better but he doesn't want to be a predator, he just eats fish and would never harm a human but he's still upset, also he loves shiny stuff but it's so much harder for sirens to get anything when mermaids occupy coral reefs and people aren't selling anything to them, he can either wait for luck finding something or try to steal from the mermaids, he's been sneaking near the places where mermaids live, he's lucky his tail is on the more vibrant side of purple and well, if he's been doing absolutely everything possible to make it shiny and pass as a merman then that's his business

So when the two first meet it's on the outskirts of mermaids city, Shuichi wanted to get some alone time outside of the bustling city, Kokichi was treasure hunting, neither of them should be there - on the dangerous border zone

It's assumed to be dangerous because of the possibility of a meeting like this, but the funny thing is, despite having known of this, being warned all their lives, both of them assume that the other is the same type of creature based on minimal differences and lack of hostility from the other

They only realize after deciding to go back when they start to swim in different directions, at that point they've already talked for hours and were developing at the very least a friendly relation if not flirty

if there were flirty vibes then Ouma would be the oblivious one because merman flirting is far more subtle and for a siren who grew up in a big pack gestures like touching a shoulder and small compliments are neutral nice behaviours

the plan was to keep talking on the way back and arrange ways to keep in contact but then they turn in opposite directions and just. Freeze. At the realization

and Saihara really doesn't know much about sirens other than the scary stories so he thinks Ouma will try to eat him now that they know the truth about each other so he swims away really fast

of course they meet again, even closer to the mermaid's city because Saihara is still a loner but doesn't want to risk swimming so far out after that meeting, ironically that does not save him from his fate, that's what I decide, Ouma's also there

it's a popular date location out of the city on a day when it's unlikely to be used because it's the middle of the week during Fall, it's a good place for Ouma's treasure search, he actually finds some necklace this time

it was meant to be a gift once, not too long ago, probably at the end of summer vacation, it's still in great condition and now it's his, to celebrate he starts humming and it attracts some small fishes, those pretty colorful ones that live in the reef with mermaids

that's when Saihara sees him and it's such a disney princess moment, looking so happy, humming a tune, surrounded by a flock and then he reaches for one of them and eats it just like that

Saihara doesn't quite muffle his sound of utter horror and that notifies Ouma of his presence and they have a funny moment where Shuichi panics, says something like "Please don't eat me" and Kokichi just gives him a deadpan look, points at their height difference and says "You think I could do that?"

The thing that devours Saihara instead is his curiosity, having realised that he's been mislead he becomes fascinated with finding out the truth. Turns out there's a lot of ugly history he was never going to hear about in school.

In pursuit of answers he follows the siren he just met into a world unknown to the rest of the merfolk

[howtobangyourmonster]

TomTom the Minotaur, Pt. 1

Minotaur man with human woman, vaginal fingering

When attempting to traverse an eldritch forest hell bent on leading you astray, it's vital to hire a guide with an excellent sense of direction. It's less vital that he be charming and sexy, but it sure helps pass the time.

“Worth every penny.” That's what his reviews say.

Seeing him in person, I feel less anxious about the journey ahead. Tall and broad, his skin a gorgeous dark brown speckled over in white freckles like stars, horns gleaming and wickedly curved and broad as his shoulders. He'd be intimidating if it wasn't for the kindness of his face. He's damn handsome, but that's not why I hired him. Well, not the only reason.

His mouth curves in an easy smile as I approach. He looks down at me as he finishes rolling the sleeves of his plaid button-down up, revealing the sculpted muscles of his massive forearms. “You must be Stella.”

I shake his hand, my own completely swallowed in his, though his grip is gentle and warm. “Yes, and you're Tom?”

“Yes, ma'am. Your email said this is your first time crossing the Briarwood?” he asks, friendly brown eyes crinkled at the corners in polite curiosity.

“It is, and I'm pretty nervous about it actually.” I admit.

“Understandable, it's a very disorienting place, especially for humans. I'll get you through it, don't you worry. My family has been guiding people through for generations, I practically grew up in there. I've never lost a traveler.”

His confidence is earned; he's legendary even among guides and has the rating to prove it on NaviGate. His services have the price tag to match. Too many people try to cross on their own, or turn to disreputable-but-cheap “guides” who most likely ditch their charges and pocket the money. Disappearances are commonplace. I don't want that to be me.

“I'm counting on your reputation's accuracy, TomTom.” I smirk.

“Are they still calling me that?” he grimaces, one hand rubbing the back of his neck(and putting his glorious biceps on display). “Embarrassing nicknames aside, I don't want you to worry. I'm taking you the safest way though the woods. It's the slowest route, but we won't run into trouble. Should be very boring.”

“Boring is good! I've got all my gear,” I gesture with my head to the large camping backpack I'm sporting. “I'm trying to just think of it as a long camping trip.”

“That's good, that's basically what it is. We're not getting anywhere near any settlements or dens in there, we shouldn't see anyone else the whole time. I hope you brought something to keep you entertained.”

“I've got a bunch of digital books and podcasts downloaded, and a solar battery. And a couple print books.”

“Good call, sometimes the sun doesn't break through the canopy for a few days.” Tom hefts his own massive pack onto his back, hooking his thumbs into the straps. “Shall we?”

I follow him as we take our first steps onto the trailhead that, with his help, should deliver me safely through the Briarwoods, one month from now.

“I kinda expected it to be more...creepy in here.” I say.

Tom chuckles. “Yeah, I hear that a lot. I think it would actually be less sinister if it did look more creepy and dark and gloomy. It's not just that the path shifts and changes, it's that the forest tries to distract you as well as disorient. Like...look up ahead there.”

He points off to the left, up along the trail, to a meadow of golden grass waving in a gentle breeze. The edges of the meadow disappear into a grove of quaking aspen trees, leaves shimmering like golden coins as they catch the light. Suddenly, the whisper of wings reaches me as hundreds of iridescent green butterflies rise from the meadow in a dazzling display of color.

“...Wow.” I breathe.

“Yeah. It's pretty. And absolutely a trap. You set one foot in there, you'll be asleep in seconds.”

I peek into the grass as we pass the meadow, making sure to keep my feet well within the trail. I see bones poking out of the dark earth, and a sunbleached skull staring eyeless at the sky. With a shudder, I turn back to Tom.

The first week of our journey is pretty straightforward. He points out the forest's traps and lures to me. After one incident where I nearly wandered off, following some windswept notes of birdsong(“That wasn't a bird...” he warns), Tom takes to holding my hand as we walk through particularly dangerous stretches of the trail. I certainly don't mind. At night he sleeps in front of the entrance to our shared tent, to keep me from wandering off without waking him. When it happens, he turns me back to my sleeping bag and gently hushes me until I lay back down and sleep. And then teases me mercilessly in the morning.

“If you're so keen on a night stroll, just wake me up, I'd be happy to keep you company.” he winks.

“It's not my fault! It's the damn sirens!” I laugh.

“They're not really sirens.” Tom says. “It's just the forest trying to trick you.”

We're sharing a meal during a lunch rest in a rather lovely spot next to a river. The sun has actually made an appearance today, so I have my solar charger out.

“What's the scariest thing you've ever encountered in the forest?” I ask.

Tom is very still for a while, brow furrowed as he considers his answer. “I think...the scariest times are when the forest has gotten to know you, and it knows what you're afraid of, and it uses that against you.”

He says this very quietly, with the manner of someone who speaks from experience. I don't pry further.

The river is safe, he says, and clear. We take the opportunity to wash clothes and refill canteens.

“Do we have to get back on the trail, or can I wash? I feel pretty grimy...”

“You set the pace, Stella, I'm just here to keep you out of trouble.” he grins. “I wouldn't mind getting clean either. You go ahead first, I'll keep my back to the water, and you just keep talking to me so I know you're alright.”

“Such a gentleman, respecting my modesty.” I tease. I peel off my trail clothes from that morning and give them a quick wash, hanging them up to dry on the line with the other clothes, while I chat with Tom's back. The water is cold and bracing, but invigorating.

“It'll be a few days before we come across another safe water source.” Tom says. “There's a spring we should run into tomorrow but you can absolutely not touch it.”

I drag my nails through my hair, raking the dirt and debris out of it before rinsing it in the river. “Is it cursed? Haunted?”

“It's a mouth.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I dry off with the superabsorbent camping towel I bought for this trip, slip on my pajama shorts and a tshirt, and join Tom where he sits on a log. “Your turn!”

Tom stands and steps back over the log toward the river. I keep my back to him as he strips off his shirt, but my curiosity gets the better of me and I glance back over my shoulder. He bends down to take off his boots, and I take in the sight of his impressive backside straining the seams of his jeans. I'm lost in daydreams when he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of the jeans and pushes them down around his hips, taking his briefs with them. The lines of muscle in his back, the play of light and shadow over the planes and curves of his body are stunning. He bends down to remove the clothes and catches me staring, doing a double-take at my expression.

“Hey, what about my modesty?” he asks with a cheeky grin, one eyebrow lifted in challenge.

I whip my head back around, cheeks burning. “I'm sorry, that was...so inappropriate of me!”

He laughs, voice like warm caramel. “Minotaurs bathe communally, I'm not shy.”

I keep my eyes focused on my shoes. “I went to a minotaur-owned bathhouse in Alberta with my mom once.”

I cringe. Why did I feel the need to say that?

“Yeah? What did you think?” he asks.

“It was nice, I really loved the olive oil soaps.”

“I have some in my pack, can you fish one out for me?”

My mind short-circuits for a second. I dig through the pockets of Tom's pack until I find one of the small bars. When I turn to face Tom, my mouth goes dry.

He's standing hip-deep in the river, sunlight reflecting off the water and making his rich sable coat glisten. His head is tipped back, arms up as he arches his back, and it's obvious he's putting on a show for me. So I indulge myself, and let my eyes trail over his biceps, his horns, the thick corded muscles of his neck, rivulets of water dripping down his body. The firm planes of his abs ripple under the smooth skin that replaces the coat of his shoulders and back. Those white starry freckles splash here, too, and I follow their trail down to a thicker nest of hair where his hips meet the water.

When I manage to drag my eyes back up to his face, he's watching me with amusement.

“I love the way your skin pinks like that when you're embarrassed.” his voice is a deep rumble. He tips his head down to look at me, the gold rings in his ears and nose sparkling at me. “Or...maybe you're turned on, not embarrassed at all.”

Feeling bold, I wade into the river, not caring that my shorts and tee are now soaked and clinging to my skin. From the way Tom is staring, he doesn't care either. I hold out the soap.

“Did you need this?”

“Thanks.” he plucks the soap from my hand, lathers it up, and begins working the suds over his chest, never breaking eye contact. “Your clothes are all wet, Stella. You should hang them up to dry.”

I consider the implications for a moment, before deliberately turning away and wading back to the shore, acutely aware of my clothes clinging to the curves of my ass, my breasts. I peel them off, bending at the waist with my ass directed Tom's way, and I'm rewarded with his deep rumble of approval. Straightening, I wring the clothes out and hang them on the line, glancing over my shoulder at Tom. He's washing his arms, flexing them more than is strictly necessary.

In for a penny, in for a pound...

I wade back out to him and hold my hand out for the soap. “Looks like you could use a hand?”

The smile he graces me with is wickedness incarnate. “Obliged, ma'am.”

I lather up the soap in my hands and move around him to his back, running my hands up along his spine and fanning them out over his shoulders, as high as I can reach. He makes a pleased sound, deep in his chest, as I massage the soap into his shoulders, where his coat is thicker. I use my nails to rake the soap through, gratified as his head tips back and he moans. Moving on, I scrub down his back, appreciating how hard his muscles feel under my hands. I palm his firm ass and he laughs over his shoulder at me.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Extremely so. Are you typically so hands-on with your clients?” I ask.

“Are you this hands-on with all your guides?” he counters.

“Only when they're as gorgeous as you.”

“So not frequently then.” he says. I laugh at his brazen confidence, deserved though it is. “Here, let me.”

He gently turns me around and massages the soap into my back, his large hands feel heavenly as they work out the knots and soreness in my muscles from a week of sleeping on a camp cot. I moan and lean into his touch.

“I like that sound. I'd like to make you make it again.” he says, digging his thumb into a stubborn muscle. I moan louder, my knees nearly buckling. I can feel his cock hardening against my back. His voice is low and heavy with promise in my ear. “I'd like to do a lot of things, if you're interested...”

I reach up and take hold of his hands, pulling them around to my breasts. He kneads them, slippery with soap, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they peak.

He reaches one hand down below the water and brushes his fingers between my legs, a tentative questioning touch. I nod eagerly and spread my legs more to allow him access. Tom uses his other hand to guide my arms up around his neck, my back arched and pressed to his chest.

“Hold onto me.” he whispers as his fingers slip between my folds and find my clit. I whimper as he starts rubbing small, slow circles. His cock is hard and hot against my back as I buck my hips into his hand. His other hand reaches under my thigh to lift up my leg, spreading me further. “I've got you, I won't let you slip.”

I let go of his shoulders and grab onto his horns as he bends his head over me to kiss the top of my head. The finger on my clit pauses to push back the hood, then resumes its assault. The increased sensation has me crying out, emboldened by our solitude.

“Fuck, I'm so close, Tom...”

He slips a finger inside me, slowly working me open on his hand, then adds another. The stretch combined with the pressure on my clit is deliciously agonizing. I'm only dimly aware that I'm begging him to fuck me.

“Oh, you're not ready for that, Stella. Not yet.” he says, pumping his fingers in and out of me with deft turns of his wrist. “Need to work up to taking my cock, don't wanna hurt you.”

I whimper. “Please, I need more...”

Tom works his fingers deeper and faster, dragging them against the sweet spot inside me that has me seeing stars, and I come gasping. He slowly works me through it, whispering how good I feel spasming around his fingers, how he wishes it was his cock, how he wants to watch me ride him.

I'm limp as he lifts me out of the water and carries me back to the shore, the soap long forgotten and lost downriver. He balances me on one of his massive thighs as he digs in his pack for a towel to lay out, then lays me down on it.

“Wait, you didn't come.” I protest, reaching out for him.

“You can make it up to me later.” he winks. I watch him take down our dry clothes and the clothesline, pulling on his fresh clothes and boots. He brings me a change of clothes and helps me pull them on. “How're your muscles feeling?”

“They feel great.” I admit with a lazy smile. “You have some magic hands.”

“I look forward to showing you what else I can do.” Tom helps me shoulder my pack and we continue down the trail, away from the river's edge and into the deeper woods.

[swimmingleo]

Changes: or to take the higher ground before it's too late

I'm going to be real here folks, I cry ugly tears to this song. Bad.

Changes is a song on Cam's album "The Otherside". It's country, it's folk and it's an album a bit influenced by changes in Cam's life (a change of label, personal life). She collaborated with Harry on the song Changes, as she opened for him on a venue and was already working with Tyler Johnson.

From what I gathered: Harry sent her the demo of the song, implying he made most of the writing on this one. What I'm basing this claim on is her interview for Rolling Stones (read it here):

I heard [the demo] and was just like, “Oh, this ache to outgrow something that you don’t want to outgrow!” It felt so good. I normally don’t take outside songs [...]

‼️DISCLAIMER‼️when analysing this song, I'm gonna go from the idea of it being written with a queer mindset (how surprising of me). Cam rendered the song beautifully and it is very much her own, but I believe Harry's input is consequential. After all that's his lil whistle and cute fishsona in the MV.

Sad queer analysis ahead.

Let's analyse the lyrics first:

There is a town

Somewhere down a country road

The speaker describes the town to us, from memory, from experience. "There it is, down the road, can you picture it ?"

I see it now

I take it everywhere I go

The speaker doesn't currently live in the town, they're on the move (nice throwback to the coutry road). But despite all the travelling, they realize the sedentary smalltown never leaves them. It's part of them. It left a mark on them.

The river sways, I can almost hear it now

As if to say, "You're not the only one who wants a way out"

The town is so real to the speaker they can sense it, eyes and ears. But it gets a bit dark: the river sways like it's trying to leave its bed. The river is envious of the speaker who managed to leave. The town is so toxic even nature wants to get away from it. Or the speaker resents the town so bad that they project their own resentment on the river.

So, I go

'Cause I don't wanna feel like I don't know you anymore

I memorize those roads

This is the call for the speaker to leave for good. Their motive doesn't seem to be ambitious or anything grand. They leave because they apprehend a feeling. Apprehending a feeling, something that may not even happen, is the way of an anxious person. Anxiety is the motive of their departure. However, they still memorize the roads leading to the town, just in case. Perhaps one day they'll come back.

Somewhere out in the big wild country

Someone's fallin' in love in a backseat

Givin' it away

Like their hearts won't ever break

Suddenly it's about love ! Young love, one that is lived in the small compartment of a car, somewhere hidden and safe in the big wild country. As if the countryside was unexplored and threatening.

God bless the young hearts sippin' cheap wine

Gettin' drunk with their friends for the first time

Thinkin' nothing's gonna change

'Til everything changes

The speaker looks at the youth with tenderness, wishing them the best. But once again, they're not in the town in the present time, they don't see the youngsters fooling around, they can only guess from first-hand experience. And it's very specific: falling in love, getting drunk with friends and thinking everything's gonna be easy like that forever until it's not and heartbreak ensues.

From there I hop in with the raw queer theme of those lyrics. It started by falling in love and it ended up in a heartbreak. In between, the speaker got drunk for the first time with their friends, people they trusted enough to let go a little, but in the end everything changed. Why ? Alcohol makes you forget about code of conduct, how you're supposed to behave. It makes you say or do things you might not have done sober.

We can interprete this chorus as the beginning of the end for the speaker. It's the only part of the song evocating the past, and it's fun and easy, but it's also where things started to get bad the way they are in the present. Something might have happened that first time the speaker got drunk and it marked the end of innocence and careless childhood, and it probably has to do with love as no other factor is provided apart from falling in love and heartbreak.

They never leave

They're all havin' babies now

Watchin' daytime TV

Livin' off the gossip of a cruel small town

They. With Harry, it's always You, Me, and They. They are having babies, all of them, like it's not a very difficult thing to do, it's just natural. They have the leisure of the day, not a thing to worry about, if not gossip. It's not implied anymore, the small town is downright cruel. Gossip fuels it, but on behalf of someone else, and that someone is most definitely the speaker who left and who describes its inhabitants in the most mundane way, perhaps with a hint of contempt. The speaker seems bitter.

So, I go

'Cause I don't wanna feel like you don't know me anymore

Don't recognize my face

Reprise of the pre-chorus except now, the speaker provides another reason for their departure. Not only they feared they wouldn't know the town anymore, they also feared being seen as a stranger. It's not like the speaker actually changed physically: but it might as well feel like it. Again, apprehension, anguish. As implied in the chorus, things changed to the point where the speaker feels they would seem like a whole another person to the rest of the town, a stranger, a threat to the integrity of the conservatives. So they leave before this shift in perception can happen.

There ain't nothing here for me anymore

They say they don't hear from me anymore

And I don't wanna hear it anymore

The town is not outwardly hostile. It's still the town that saw the speaker as a kid. The town doesn't understand why the speaker left, but the speaker won't give in and get in touch. They want to be as far away as possible, until they don't hear the questions, the river, everything. It's almost like the speaker doesn't carry the town in their heart at all. They want to forget it all, and it hurts everytime the town tries to lure them back in. The way Cam sings it is painful to me man

Somewhere out in the big wild country

I was fallin' in love in a backseat

Givin' it away

Like my heart won't ever break

Had such a young heart sippin' cheap wine

Gettin' drunk with my friends for the first time

Thinkin' nothing's gonna change

'Til everything changes

Yeah, just the confirmation of the chorus being the speaker's experience. I went ahead and assumed it was already lol but it's like a plot twist effect. It's dramatic. It's a personal song to someone.

TO MAKE IT SHORT to me this song is intense and very in touch with the queer experience. Though it describes a specific situation, it is surprisingly not that detailed or full of metaphors the way Harry often writes: this town could be literally any smalltown in the countryside. The backseat could be the one of any car, cheap wine is something any teen can afford. I like to think Harry wrote it for himself but is also aware so many people went through the same thing, and still will. I have to admit I'm heavily biased writing this, as the experience of a queer kid struggling to find their place in a well settled smalltown is familiar.

GETTING DRUNK AND QUEER IDENTITY is an analogy Harry already used in Fine Line when he sang "We'll get the drinks in so I'll get to thinking of her". To drink is to let go, to unveil the most subconscious aspects of yourself you might not want to deal with otherwise. You don't care about judgement and you get to explore those parts freely. In Changes, this is the last memory they recall before stating the changes and their departure. Perhaps getting drunk for the first time would be when they realized they're queer. Or acted upon it, causing their little world to shake. They chose to leave before it eventually wouldn't feel like a choice anymore. There is no life for people like them in a cruel smalltown.

SMALLTOWN BOY

This song reminds me an awful lot of Smalltown Boy by Bronski Beat. The song is about a queer boy having to leave the smalltown where he grew up because of persecutions and no future prospects.

Mother will never understand why you had to leave, Smalltown Boy

They say they don't hear from me anymore, Changes

But the answers you seek will never be found at home, the love that you need will never be found at home

There is nothing here for me anymore

Other people not understanding why they leave. People who can't truly empathize even when they mean no harm. They would never understand the speaker's departure, because those people get to find love and have babies and live a peaceful life in the countryside.

You were the one that they'd talk about around town as they put you down

Livin' off the gossip of a cruel small town

Yeah yeah. I really struggle with just seeing this song as nostalgia when such harsh words are being used. I do believe there is a part of fondness for that town, that countryside setting and the early days. But it's not all tender memories.

CHANGES AND ERODA

Of couuuurse we all noticed the adorable purple fish with the pearl necklace. It represents Harry, no question, as it whistles Harry's part. And of couuuuurse we all made the link with the erodian fish, and some even noticed they formed the bluegreener pair when their colors are inverted.

It makes sense for those fishes to be connected with this interpretation of Changes. Both works are about a small town, lost in the nature, where the people are watching, aware of everything that isn't normal, that is peculiar. The early life of the peculiar boy is similar in every way to the early life of the speaker in Changes. The fish in Adore You grows too big for the island and has to leave, and though Eroda makes amends with the peculiar boy, he leaves as well because his future, his fulfilment, is somewhere else. So does the speaker in Changes.

IN CONCLUSION

The more I write posts like this, the more endeared I am by Harry's world. How Harry writes for himself, but also for other people with songs like this. How nature finds its way in all that he does. How grounded he is, how he doesn't seem to forget where he came from. It really is such a rare thing to see in a mainstream popstar's writing and art. How can someone say he sold his soul to LA is beyond me

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

April 2021 Part 3

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. 

Ongoing Series - Thai

Second Chance Ep 3 - this is proper YA, they are dealing with actual high school issues, picking uni, first crushes, online dating, etc... We even got a senior prom trope which almost never happens in Thai stuff (just the freshman uni competition variant). Standard plot pacing means PaperFah’s kiss was too early, might indicate we’re moving to uni in the second half of the series? Tropes included: let me feed you, hand hold, black & white striped shirt, floppy drunk & first kiss. 

Y-Destiny Ep 3 - the first MaxNat ep. Such fun to see them playing different characters. This one is enemies to lovers, tutor/student, but it’s using the “poor little rich kid loose cannon” archetype. Nat is doing his best, but it’s leaving me cold. Lots of tropes tho: boyfriend’s closet, floppy drunk, pillow clutch, the loom & water bottle. 

Lovely Writer Ep 8 - solid installment, good use of many tropes. I really like the leads and I’m glad there isn’t much side dish action, SibGene gave us: punish, touch your face, boyfriend claiming, kissing, sleep cuddling, symmetry, rooftop, cheek kiss, hand hold, and pillow clutch. 

Call It What You Want Ep 3-4 - couldn’t find the subs, don’t really care, will watch if it crosses my radar, otherwise I’m just not into it.  

Brothers Ep 11 - the “everyone wants Chol” show continues (but WHY?), he and Tri are cute together, and now I kinda just want Prab to end up with the twins. I’m confused by the teachers, but Boston showed up (from UWMA), and my boys KhunKaow got together (YES!), so I’m ultimately delighted with the episode. 

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 2 - the makeover happened, and we go from cute with glasses and braces to cute without them. (I’m reminded of those 90′s Pygmalion teen movies where the girl has glasses + ponytail and then *GASP* does not and *GASP* she’s HOT. This was the BL version.) Meanwhile, writers better be careful with Pi, he’s getting too tsundere to like. Did you see they gave AJ a 2gether music intro & pick up line? Well, it’s actually his brother JJ who plays Ohm in 2g. I cackled. GMMTV - you so cheeky. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai 

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 5 - half way point. My poor confused babies. It was a really sweet episode... if what happened before hadn’t happened in the way that it had. Also, these boys have a GREAT friendship but are probably the worst advice givers ever. 

Most Peaceful Place (Vietnam) Ep 3 fin - so cute! Our boys confessed and got together. There was an adorable mutual kiss (I love me a mutual, like Ingredients). Afterwards, they actually seemed to communicate with each other about both sex and their relationship. OMG. How original for BL! This was the last episode, so the series is short, but I still enjoyed it very much. RECOMMENDED. 

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 1-2 - oh boy this one is rough, we started out with homophobia child abuse and moved on to family drama + drunken dub-con one night stand. But production values and subs are better than normal for Vietnam (You Are My Boy levels) + our queer babies are out & proud + it’s higher heat + I’m weak. So I’m watching. 

Word of Honor (China) Ep 25-27 - honestly not much happened, lots of back story. Things are looking dire for the ghosts unless they can turn the Scorpion (I LOVE HIM, he’s my precious deadly baby). Don’t know how they managed to make loosing a battle with an immortal sword god ex-friend cute... but they did. Did some calculations and at 36 eps, mathematically speaking, ep 30 will be the equivalent of a standard BL ep 11. Should I be scared for next week? 

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korea) Ep 1-2 - it’s so effing adorbs, soft bois do old fashioned tropes like arranged marriage + evil stepsisters meets the more modern fake relationship + secret identity in a surprisingly comfortable mix. It launched with baby is a floppy drunk, forced proximity, performative I saw you feed him, and some fun gay panic. It’s a lot lighter and faster paced than I was expecting, but this is Korea so I don’t know why I’m surprised. 

Stand Alones 

K-pop band OnlyOneOf dropped a new MV that is basically BL bait, using many of the tropes we know and love. I promise I’m not trying to lure anyone into K-pop I just thought it was interesting how consciously they’re yaoi dipping. 

Spin-off We Best Love Fighting Mr. 2nd, Shou Zhen | the Only Love Letter Once Written (SERIOUSLY WITH THE TITLES TAIWAN?) anyway there’s a something or other 25 minutes featuring Pei Shou Yi and his boy that aired Friday. It’s about 10 minutes of reboot footage with 15 min of new content, mostly set in the past. It entirely rests on Chih Tian Shih’s acting, fortunately for us he’s great. However, it doesn’t substantially change or add to these characters’ arcs from the finale of WBL season 2. I don’t know if there will be more or if this was just an extra footage fan service. 

COLOR RUSH GOT ITS MOVIE!!! Okay this is almost the tipping point for me to get Viki Standard. It’s listed at 1:56 minutes long but the original series had only c.120 running time - that is a lot of new content. Although i was disappointed by To My Star’s movie I loved Wish You’s, so I am hoping Color Rush got Wish You level treatment. That said, I feel Color Rush the series is damn near perfect already, hard to improve on perfection. 

Breaking News

Close Friend the series got an updated trailer featuring MaxNat (no subs) so if you like them in Y-Destiny or in Why R U get ready for them to play different characters again, this time for a sports romance segment. Like Y-Destiny, Close Friend looks to be another series of vignettes (Original trailer) coming April 22. 

2gether the movie (Thai trailer) was intended release April 22 but is now postponed due to a surge in C19 cases in Thailand.

Tell the World I Love You, a Thai BL movie that was supposed to release last week, is similarly delayed.  

My Ride has been postponed indefinitely with no airing date. 

The Miracle of Teddy Bear got a teaser vid, no eng subs. 

Gossip

Thai BL actors Nanon (Bad Buddy), Yoon (YYY), and Mark Siwat (LBC, Bite Me) have tested positive for C19. Press releases stated they’re fine, tho filming has paused fore their various projects, obvs. (No word on whether Nanon’s current project was Bad Buddy or not, although it seems likely given his recent Arm Share episode.) 

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

[encyclopika]

Animal Crossing Fish - Explained #197

Brought to you by a marine biologist and not-a-plant! Really! It’s not!

CLICK HERE FOR THE AC FISH EXPLAINED MASTERPOST!

Color in the natural world is kind of fascinating to think about, especially the “why” those colors were chosen and for what purpose. I mean, when you get down to it, as mammals, we humans are pretty blessed to be able to see so many colors, and it has everything to do with evolution, our ancestor’s diets, the fact that we are diurnal (it means awake in the daytime, although I find that to be a torture placed on me by society), and many other factors. Other animals, like birds, can see even more, reaching into the ultraviolet range of color, using this for fantastical displays for their mates and rivals. Other animals are brightly colored because it tells their predators that they are poisonous (or they’re hoping to trick a predator into *thinking* they are another poisonous species when in fact, the imposter is delicious). 

But then you get to animals that are bland - brown, green, black - they do their best to look like their surroundings to hide from their predators. Some animals, like today’s Amazon Leaffish (ALF), go even further to look exactly like something that isn’t what their predator is looking for or what their prey expects.

Unlike many other Pocket Camp friends we’ve covered, the ALF was introduced last year for fall, appearing in freshwater at Lost Lure Creek from the end of August to the end of December 2021. So, who knows, maybe you’ll have another opportunity to catch this thing this fall.

Now, the ALF is basically just as it sounds - a fish that looks like a leaf and it lives in the Amazon River basin of South America. As unique as that may sounds, *lots* of fish have evolved to look like plant matter, and many animals that have evolved to look like plants, other animals, rocks, etc. So, the ALF isn’t alone, and there are plenty of other species of leaffish out there, too. The three species native to South America, including the ALF, are within Family Polycentridae. There are also Asian and African leaffish that belong to other groups. The ALF is named to species - Monocirrhus polyacanthus. It’s game plan it to float head-down in slow or stagnant waters around plant debris, mimicking the look and “behavior” of a dead leaf. This helps it not only avoid its own predators, but also to sneak up on its mostly invertebrate prey items.

There are many different types of camouflage and many methods for performing them. Most camouflage is best when the animal is not moving, so it can easily blend in with its surroundings. Organisms that  look like a real thing in the environment that is not really important to the observer (prey or predator) is said to have mimesis type camouflage. If you’re like the ALF and you go the extra mile to also *act* like the thing you are mimicking, that acting is called “cryptic behavior”. Like all struggles in nature, the camouflaging abilities of prey and the predator’s ability to perceive are in a constant arm’s race. 

And there you have it. Fascinating stuff, no?

[seacottons]

Silent Song of the Sea

Yeosang’s lured and drowned many humans in the sea with his captivating voice. Fortunately, Wooyoung was deaf.

pairings: yeosang x wooyoung, san x reader

wc: 24k+

genre: siren!au, medieval times, royalty!au

warnings: supernatural beings, disabilities, language, blood, angst, gore, fluff, graphic violence, minor character death, domestic abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, implications of suicide, emotional trauma, mental health issues, unprotected sex, crazy reader(?), shiny yeosang

there was a problem with the html, so i had to reupload this. : (

You were twelve years of age when news broke out in your town of a boy who washed up on shore, along with a broken and tattered rescue boat. Chowing down on your breakfast in the dining hall amongst the other orphans, you overheard a few of the workers speaking about the young boy who spent days in the hospital, the town wondering where he came from. It was later that afternoon, when you were huddled with the rest of the other children in the yard that the director bought the young boy to introduce him to everyone. You struggled to peek from the taller children to catch a glimpse of the male, but you were shoved back slightly, the boys in front of you sneering, “Watch it, pipsqueak.”

Wooyoung was twelve years of age when he witnessed a young, tiny, frail child squabbling with a pair of boys. Gasps broke out within the group of children as a fist flew, followed by the crying of one of the young children. Wooyoung’s curious eyes never left your form as you were forcibly dragged inside by your ear, your fist smeared with the boy’s blood. You appeared to be shouting and stomping your feet in retaliation as you were dragged into the housing facility.

It was later that week when you were walking down the hall back to the children’s living space, when you noticed a group of four children surrounding the new kid, who huddled against the wall, beads of tears pooling in his eyes. “Why don’t you talk!” the tallest of the bunch growls in frustration, “You’re no fun at all!”

“Maybe he’s just stupid?” another girl quips, flicking her forefinger against Wooyoung’s forehead, sending the four into a pit of laughter and teasing. A wet squelch broke the train of laughter, and Wooyoung’s jaw dropped at the sight of the opened closet, brooms scattered onto the tiled floor, and you thrusting the wet, dripping mop into one of the children’s faces. Chaos ensued; a squeal of protest from one of the girls, loud footsteps, and bickering filled your ears. “(Y/n)! What do you think you’re doing!?” a worker tugged the mop out of your grasp, tugging you up with an arm securely fastened onto your tummy. You twisted in her hold, palms jutting out against her jaw in protest as you struggled to escape her grip.

“They were bullying Wooyoung!” you cried, and the four kids could only cower and deny your claims, their eyes flashing with fear, “Yes, you were! He’s crying! You said he was stupid!”

The worker stilled, and her eyes narrowed at the four children. A sigh escaped her as she settled you down, a stern expression painting her features, “For once, I think I’ll let you go. As for you four, to the director’s office. Now.” 

You laughed smugly at the sight of the four trudging begrudgingly behind the woman, and you gasped in realization when you remembered the young boy. When your head snapped in his direction, he flinched, eyes wary and hands hurriedly reaching up to wipe his tears away. 

“Y’know, you should really learn how to fight back,” you started, “They deserve a broken tooth or two.” He stared back at you, eyes flickering nervously as he fidgeted in place. You frowned, trying again, “Are you scared of them?  I mean, Minjae is ugly— I would be scared of him too.” The boy’s gaze  mirrored that of the gaping fish that stared at you from their tank in the director’s office. 

You quirked a brow, arms crossing in front of your chest, “Okay. You don’t have to fight. I’ll fight for you. Just say my name, and I’ll be there. I’m (y/n).” Wooyoung’s hesitant hands reached up point two fingers at you, and he shook his head while cupping his hands around the shells of his ears. Suddenly, you understood, face leaning uncomfortably close to his as your jaw dropped, “You can’t hear me!?” You understood when his hands made a motion, your brows raising up in curiosity, “Oh, you use sign language? I don’t really know that. I can draw for you, though. Come on, I’ll show you!”

You were permitted to walk around town for a few hours every day before dinner, and the first place you wanted to visit was the library, much to Wooyoung’s confusion, “My friend, San, owns this library! I mean- his mom, but I’m pretty sure they have a sign language book here we can borrow! San taught me how to write and read, y’know. Maybe we can find a book on how to find your memories too! Oh- wait.. I forgot, sorry. You can’t hear me,” You attempted to use hand signals to display your words, but Wooyoung only chuckled at your failed attempt. You swiftly pulled out your tattered sketchbook, and after a few messy, stick figure drawings, he nodded in acknowledgment. You were met with the sight of San helping his mother place a few books in the high shelves of the library, you bellowed out his name loudly, startling both him and his mother. The woman only giggled underneath her breath whilst her son was quick to shush you with a stern glare, “(Y/n)! You’re in a library!” His gaze suddenly drifted the boy behind you, who wore a similar outfit to your own, freezing immediately and grumbling lowly, “Why are you with one of the orphan boys? I thought you said they’re all gross?” His mother scolded him quietly for the choice of his words, and sent her a pout in return, “Stop embarrassing me in front of my friend!”

You quickly explained to both of them Wooyoung’s lack of memories and situation, and and how you insisted on learning sign language to communicate with him, not noticing San’s eyes narrowing in on the nervous lavender haired boy. San’s mother nodded, smiling and reaching over to ruffle your hair. You caught a glimpse of purple and blue marks underneath the sleeve of her shirt as she told you to wait while she searched for the books you needed. A faint speck of purple was also seen on San’s tummy as he reached up to gently push a book back in place.

“We’re not partners in crime anymore if you’re going to replace me,” San grumbled, fingers idly tracing the spines of the books to his right. “He’s not replacing you, dummy,” you cried defensively, tugging Wooyoung by the wrist and startling him, “He’s going to join us. We can even let him in on our secret.”

San’s eyes rounded comically, before they narrowed, finger jutting out in accusation, “You wouldn’t. We agreed it’ll just be us two taking over the world.” “But he probably wants to go on adventures too,” you offered, “Please? We’ll be like the three muskrats!”

“I’m not letting anyone join our pirate club, no,” he crossed his arms, voice firm and head tilting to the side in protest, “And it’s musketeers, not muskrats, you bum.”

San’s mother returned with a stack of books for you, explaining everything you needed to know. She tugged on your cheek, laughing brightly at the sound of your protest as you shyly swatted it away, “It’s very mature and thoughtful of you for doing this, (y/n). You can come here every day to practice with San. He’ll make time to learn with you.”

“Learn? I never agreed to have extra lessons!” It was later that week that the town of Aurora held a coming-of-age ceremony for the young prince on a Friday night. He was a few years older than you, and you’ve caught glimpses of him every so often when you hung out with San in town. 

Wooyoung, San, and you dressed appropriately, with your town’s traditional garbs. Mrs. Choi, bless her soul, took the three of you shopping beforehand, explaining how today was a very important day for the town and the royal family. San appeared miffed at his slicked back hair, and Wooyoung appeared to enjoy to the texture of the garments as his hands wouldn’t stop rubbing the silky, colorful material, fingers tracing the numerous embroidered floral patterns on the cuffs of his sleeves.

Mrs. Choi left the three of you to walk about, only if you promised you wouldn’t get into trouble. With a bag of silver coins, you three tromped between the crowds, visiting different booths to ogle at the treats displayed. The town was illuminated with an array of colorful lights hung from building to building. Signs and images of the young prince were displayed on every wall, pole, and building. As you munched on your roasted corn, guards of the royal family barked at the crowd to make space for the carriages and other matching guards to pass through. San tugged your sleeve and pointed to the golden palanquin held by four, large guards, the maroon velvet curtains tied to the corners, exposing the young boy sitting peacefully inside. He smiled at the crowd, turning left and right to wave as the guards marched in between the two parallel lines of people.

Whilst San was attempting to remember the hand signs to explain to Wooyoung was happening, you squinted, standing up on your tip-toes to have a better look at the prince. You clambered up on a wooden box, smiling in satisfaction at the better view, before peeking down at the two boys, “Why is the prince wearing such an ugly coat? It looks weird.”

“Watch your mouth, kid.” “That coat is the skin of a siren. It is a symbol of honor and bravery, brat.”

San paled at the harsh words, glancing nervously at the glares of the nearby townspeople, before swatting at your calf with a harsh whisper, “Moron, you can’t say things like that about the royals in public! That coat is tradition for the royal family!” Rolling your eyes at his exasperated tone, you offered a hand to Wooyoung, motioning him to stand with you to get a better view of the all the action. San attempted to follow suit, huffing in anger when he found no space for him to stand. Reaching for the pole beside him, he swiftly shimmied himself up, silently thanking the swordsmanship classes he was forced to partake in.

The prince’s eyes examined almost every face in the crowd. He met yours, and despite hating his attire, you couldn’t help but blush at the piercing gaze. You could’ve sworn his eyes widened at the boy beside you, but you didn’t have time to ponder as Wooyoung signed for you that he was hungry. You paused, eyes squinting in thought, before recognition flashed in your mind.

You nodded, pointing to his belly, to which he nodded in agreement. You dragged a reluctant San and a happy Wooyoung through the crowd, unaware of a pair of eyes lingering on your three forms.

Two months later, San began finally warming up to Wooyoung, much to your pleasure. To finally welcome the newest addition to your ‘Pirate Adventure Club’, he presented three twine bracelets, all with one cowrie shell intertwined in the middle,”Pirates give these to their friends, so they’ll never be apart no matter what.” “I don’t remember that in the pirate guidebook,” you mumbled, blinking at the boy.

“I made it up,” he grumbled bashfully, helping Wooyoung tie the twine on his wrist, “Don’t tell Wooyoung I said that, or else he won’t think I’m cool anymore.”

At fifteen years of age, both San and yourself became proficient at sign language, so much so that sometimes you would often find yourself teasing him with foul signs rather than doing so verbally. He would shove you away, red ears and furrowed brows as Wooyoung laughed beside him, “Stop polluting Wooyoung’s head with that nonsense!”

The three of you became infamous in town. The Troublesome Trio.

When San first informed you about the given title, you cackled, asking who in their right mind came up with that ridiculous name. He shrugged as the three of you walked within the town’s square, Wooyoung quietly observing the pigeons huddled near the center fountain, “You're the one who always picks fights, and Wooyoung and I have to always save your ass, so maybe that’s why.”

San insisted on paying a visit to one of the small antique shops in town, promising to find rare trinkets owned by pirates that washed up on Aurora’s shores. The town was still bustling even in the evening, young kids chasing each other around the neighborhood alleys, vendors charming passersby with their pristinely washed produce, mountains of different colored spices, dry fruits and nuts. Other merchants were determined to attract arrays of customers by displaying the colorful, locally caught fish, eel, and crustaceans on beds of ice. Cats sat idle in every corner, their big eyes fixated on the fresh fish.

 Dry herbs hung from many of the tea shops, and vibrant fabrics blew gently with the soft breeze from the textile shops. A young man carried around baskets of fresh bottled milk, whilst another prepared slabs of butter and goat cheese for the market-goers, charming the people past with his smiles and beautiful notes, the seagulls crying overhead joining in the melody.

“Hey, guys. Look! Isn’t that Pipsqueak and Stupid?”

You furrowed your brows, lips pursing in an attempt to bottle your anger. You knew that obnoxious voice anywhere, and it was a surprise that a boy with a disgusting attitude like him found a home with a willing family. You hoped it was the last you would see him three years ago, but there he was, sitting on a barrel, legs spread and a cocky smirk on his face as he pointed to you, along with two others you recognized from the orphanage. You can tell from the way San’s shoulders stiffened that he intact did hear, eyes still glued ahead of him as he led the way to the merchant’s shop. “Hey! Is your boyfriend still too stupid to attend school?” Sometimes, you were grateful that Wooyoung was deaf, because you knew words like that would crush him. Despite lacking the sense of hearing, he picked up on skills much faster than San and yourself combined. San’s mother helped you learn math, and you quickly learned to hate it. Wooyoung, however excelled at such a pace that it left even San’s mother surprised. San also taught him techniques he learned during his swordsmanship classes, and now, not only were the two taller than you, but broader as well.

“I’m talking to you! Don’t ignore me!” A rock pelted against Wooyoung’s neck, startling him. San’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. Your eyes burned with disbelief at the sight of the smirking boy, who proudly adjusted his school uniform’s tie, silently bragging about how privileged he became after being adopted by one of the wealthier families in town.

Your hands grasped one of the thin wooden sticks of the fruit stalls beside you, the owner barking at you in protest, stuck behind the stand dealing with a few confused customers. San’s hands flew to grasp your elbow, a concerned Wooyoung gazing at you from behind him in confusion, “(Y/n)! Don't! He’s not worth it!” he insisted.

“Let me,” you spat, tugging your arm away and stomping towards the taller male, “I’ll stake him like the squealing pig he is.”

The three boys hunched over in laughter at your empty threat, nudging each other and surrounding you threateningly. Minjae threw his backpack to the side, hands reaching up to crack his knuckles, “I don’t hit kids, but since all you are is an angry demon no one wants, I don’t think anyone will mind me giving you a bruise or two. Maybe I should knock Stupid’s head too. He’ll probably start hearing afterwards, yeah?”

San protested, yelling out your name and sprinting to defend you, but before he was halfway across the cobblestone path, you threw the wooden stake aside, relying on your hands to pulverize the taller male in front of you. He tugged at your hair as you tackled him down, hands tugging at his tie, and aiming a punch at his nose, the sound of gravel crunching beneath your wrestling forms. The two of you rolled repeatedly on the cobblestones, feet kicking and fists flying, “You piece of shit, how dare you say those things about Wooyoung! I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to the seagulls!”

Vendors and customers paused to watch the squabble, kids pointing and ushering their parents to see the commotion. You shoved Minjae onto one of the glass doors of a shop, the raised threshold clipping his ankle, leading to fall backwards into the glass. He growled, head snapping up to meet the eyes of his two friends, “Stop staring and help me out, cowards!”

Their faces grew pale at the sight behind the cracked glass doors, and after sharing a look, they nodded and hastily retreated. A look of disbelief washed over Minjae’s face, and your snicker only boiled his anger even further. With a growl, he tackled you down harshly onto the floor, your eyes widening at the sudden lunge. You didn’t even care at the taste of blood on your busted lip as you struck him in between the legs, eyes furious as you shoved him off, hands reaching up to wipe at your mouth,“Can’t handle a pipsqueak by yoursel—”

“What’s going on here?” Your eyes flickered to well polished shoes behind Minjae’s figure, traveling up to meet the eyes of the prince, crown shining in display, golden coat and pristine white leather sparkling underneath the golden hours of the evening. His face grew even more handsome since the last you’ve seen him, jaw becoming sharper, and eyes more mature. Behind him stood a taller male, hair as striking and vibrant as the crushed geranium flowers Mrs. Choi uses as rouge, “The Commander won’t be happy to hear about this, will he, Minjae?”

Minjae’s eyes widened in recognition, scrambling up to grab at his fallen backpack, his form tripping as he scurried off in fear. You stared at the gloved hand offered to you, and you gladly accepted it, the older male pulling you up onto your feet, “Ah, aren’t you that trio..”

His eyes trailed from your small stature to San and Wooyoung, his brown eyes lingering on the latter a bit longer. You dusted your attire, snorting at the sight of your panic stricken friends, “Yep. Just getting rid of rats on your streets, Hongjoong,” while not personally knowing the member of the royal family, you found comfort in the fact he wasn’t that much older than you and your friends. Surely, he’s just like other kids beneath the silk, leather, golden garments and dazzling jewelry.

The red-haired bodyguard, who didn’t seem that much older than you and your friends, glowered with piercing eyes at your smaller frame, disbelief clouding his eyes at the insolent behavior. 

San slapped his forehead, exasperation lacing his voice as he shouted in your ear, “He’s royalty! You can’t just call Prince Hongjoong by his name, (y/n)-”

Hongjoong lifted a palm, shaking his head, a gentle smile gracing his features, “That is quite alright. I don’t mind. Mingi here calls me Hongjoong, as well. It makes me feel.. ah, young, perhaps? Right, Mingi?” he swiveled his head slightly to eye the stoic guard.

“You’re not even that old, though,” you began, earning you a glare from both San and the prince’s bodyguard at your informal tone. Wooyoung awkwardly held onto your fallen hat, eyes trained on the prince’s mouth in order to attempt to read his lips.

“Ah, yes. You are correct,” Hongjoong simpered, white hair delicately styled and falling into his eyes as he spoke, “but when you have princely duties, it makes you forget that you are still so young.”

There was a hint of sorrow in his voice that you detected, one so subtle and faint like the salty smell of the ocean encasing your town. The smile he wore didn’t exactly reach his eyes, his lips stretching too wide for it to be out of genuine content. Your bloody lips parted, eyes wide as you spoke, softly this time, “You’re still a kid before you’re a prince. You should live a little and have fun every once in a while.”

He offered you a white handkerchief at the glimpse of blood dribbling down your chin, chuckling at the sight of your stunned and flushed expression at the sweet gesture, “You have a point, but maybe I will attempt something other than fighting.. rats in the street.”

His smile sent your face and neck flushing in embarrassment, and you were quick to wave him goodbye as he was pulled away by a few of his guards. Watching the carriage disappear, you failed to notice San glowering at you beside you as you ogled at the disappearing horses, “(Y/n), you can’t just keep picking fights like that. Must you always seek trouble?”

“He asked for it.”

‘(Y/n) is a bad influence. Don’t get any ideas, please,’ He signed to an amused looking Wooyoung.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t.

Your brows furrowed, watching the two exchange words silently, your arms crossing in annoyance.

‘Assholes.’

“(Y/n)!”

— At seventeen, the three of you came to conclusion just how cruel and dangerous the beings that lurked in the sea were. San had a rough night with his father again, and with his mother’s insistence, he joined you both to the beach to clear his mind of the suffocating negativity that filled his household. 

A large, canvas umbrella shielded the three of you from the blazing sun. Even from here, the sound of the town’s clock tower chiming, signaling noon, can be heard. San’s head rested on your lap, his straw hat covering his face as he dozed off to your fingers gently running through his dark locks. He was exhausted after hours of swimming and playing volleyball with other kids your age. Sand coated the skin between his toes and a small baby seagull occasionally circled around his legs, curiously eyeing the bag of chips you were sharing with Wooyoung.  

The other male sat to your right, attempting to sketch the shore and moss covered rocks that broke the waves’ paths. He absentmindedly sipped on a bottle of juice, brows furrowed in determined concentration, his back littered with specks of sand from being buried up to his neck by San.

Peering up from his half completed sketch, his eyes were drawn onto the tiny boats and hardy people paddle boarding yards away from shore, despite the occasional gusts of wind. The waves crashed loudly into the clusters of rocks, foam spraying high in the air with every roar of water. The blue waters of the ocean were so clear that often times children would run around chasing the languid fish that found themselves swimming past their feet near the shore. Pebbles and other tiny marine life can be spotted on the sandy bed, the webs of sunlight dancing on the surface. 

A sudden flash of a purple fin stopped him in his tracks, his eyes squinting to make out the form. Another turquoise tail fin breeched the surface, but just as quickly dove back into the water. The two paddle boarders paused, glancing curiously at the two heads that rose from the water. 

Wooyoung watched in confusion as the men dropped their paddles, jaws slackening and frames growing stiff, as if in a deep trance. It happened too fast for his mind to register clearly, but one second the men are standing on their boards, and the next they’re both diving in hastily. His eyes rounded, fingers losing their grip on his bottle, the pomegranate juice spilling onto his sketch, startling you. Before you asked, your head snapped to the direction of his gaze, but you wish you hadn’t.

“Is that a siren?” you heard out in the distance.

A blonde haired creature’s mouth suddenly clamped down onto the screaming man’s neck, angular teeth piercing the skin and severing veins and muscle as he threw his head back roughly, red flesh intact in his mouth. Red liquid glugs from the victim’s lips and the severed carotid, pumping red into the ocean. 

The screams were so shrill you swore they could curdle blood.

Claws pierce the man’s eye-sockets rupturing the globes with a sickening pop, the left eye dangling only by the stubborn, red optical nerve, leaving behind a bloody and empty pit. The siren’s unforgiving lashes met the victim’s face, sharp and jagged nails tearing the man’s visage and shredding his jaw.

Moments later, the creature dives into the water, turquoise tail flashing just before its disappearance. The corpse is suddenly tugged down with such intensity that the red seawater swashes roughly with a loud plop, sea foam being the only indication of movement. Feet away, his friend is met with the same fate. 

The tails breached the surface near a sailboat, the people in it suddenly halting their movements while listening to the sirens’ voices. Wooyoung didn’t need to hear the screams of the people swimming nearby. The wave of fear washing over everyone present at the beach was enough indication.

He gaped in horror, his eyes watching as the beach goers pulled frightened children out of the water, others frantically grabbing their belongings and rushing in hoards for safety, clouds of sand left in their wake. Sandpipers and seagulls flew amongst the crazed crowd, disturbed at the sudden chaos around them. 

San suddenly jerked awake at the sound of a loud siren ringing from one of the pop shacks at the beach. He sat up in surprise, hat falling into his lap, and hand clutching his chest in surprise.

“What happened!?”

That night, the King sent guards around town to announce the banishment of swimming and other ocean sports, threatening anyone who broke the law to be executed by enforced drowning. A team was sent to the beach to pick up the torn flesh and limbs of the victims that washed up on shore. It was a horrid sight, the stench of death prominent and wafting through even the smallest crevice of the town. 

The three of you paid a visit to the vigil honoring the five people killed that day, the images of the brutal deaths haunting both Wooyoung and yourself in your sleep. The two of you joined each other on the lower bunk, arms coiled around each other for a source of comfort no one else could provide you with. The once vibrant atmosphere of the bustling town was replaced with an eerily quiet one- one that was stained with an ugly shade of fear and melancholy. — You were eighteen years of age when were moved out from the orphanage to a facility that housed other orphans, agreeing to partake in labor to help provide for both yourself and the establishment. Wooyoung soon joined you, and as much as you wanted for him to be with a family of his own, you were still happy he stuck around with you. He felt like family. 

The two of you landed jobs aiding fishermen catch and deliver the locally caught fish to merchants and markets. You rolled the sleeves of poofy tunic up, fastened the tied cloth around your waist and winced at the sudden gust of wind that blew your wide-brimmed hat off your head in an instant. 

It was a typical day on the fishing trawler. You were miles away from the coast, Wooyoung and yourself aiding the fishermen haul fish into different compartments, picking out the other creatures that were caught along with the school of fish. A storm battered the ship, but not enough for the helmsman to steer the ship back to port, despite the crew’s growing concern. 

Wooyoung grasped your elbow as you slipped onto the deck, waves crashing against the sides of the vessel. You thanked him with a nod of acknowledgment, hand shakily grasping the railing, brown boots sliding with every sway of the boat. He pointed to the hatch, hoping you’ll understand his implications without the use of hand signs. He was clearly fed up with the lack of concern from the fishermen, urging you with his eyes to crawl inside for safety. 

You opened your mouth to word out a reply, when a sudden jerk to the left caused you both to lose your grip. Wooyoung’s hands stabilized himself against the deck, his face scrunched in pain at the impact of his fall, watching in horror as the vessel tilted dangerously, a wave impelling the sides and sweeping you away with it. His hand flew to grasp your foot, only managing to graze the bottom of your boot in the process.

He was quick on his feet to inform the closest person about you falling overboard. His hands desperately clutched the orange lifebuoy, throwing it to where he spotted your head bobbing within the harsh waves. 

You met his gaze, hands reaching to grab the ring, when you felt a clawed hand grasp your ankle. In the time it took you to knit your brows in confusion at the sensation, you suddenly gasped in realization, earning you only a few more milliseconds of air before you were swiftly plunged down into the raging ocean. You were welcomed with the deafening roar of your heartbeat in your ears and the burning sensation in your sinuses. Beams of sunlight occasionally shined within the raging waters before they disappeared behind the dark plumes of clouds.

You hadn’t properly prepared to take a deep breath, your mouth parting open in shock at the sight of a beautiful, black haired man. Your stunned eyes were suddenly drawn to his puckering gills and outstretched smile, showcasing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. The purple fins on his neck and forearms shimmered with every flap and movement. 

He appeared to laugh as he teasingly swam around your frame, circling and eyeing you like prey. The delighted smile on his visage stretched wide, resembling the evil creatures drawn in the folklore books you read as a child. His iridescent, violet tail and fins tickled the skin of your neck, and your lungs began burning with the lack of oxygen, the subtle sounds of waves crashing joining in with the loud drumming of your pulse.

“My, my,” he chuckled, dark hues locked on your panic stricken face, “I didn’t even have to sing to get you to come to me, little human.”

The two of you were suspended in a neutral state of buoyancy, clouds of marine life occasionally passing by. Your blood ran so cold that it felt more like being electrocuted than anything else. You had to get yourself out immediately, before the lack of oxygen kills you or before the siren rips you apart like ribbons.

One second he was eyeing you curiously, and the next you struggled to escape his hold, teeth snapping and threatening to bite your neck open, your frames swaying with the waves’ thrusts, even from below the surface. Your mind had no time to keep up with your body’s involuntary actions, your fingers digging harshly into the gaps of his gills and clawing desperately in an attempt to escape. 

Your movements weren’t as clean and swift as they would’ve been on land, but your frenzied mind paid no thought. He winced at the onslaught of scratches, pulling away to clutch at his neck in pain, giving you the briefest amount of time to swim up, your arms securely wrapping around the ring and shouting up with a desperate cry. Waves rocked your frame, the water sloshing harshly around you, and hope slowly trickled in as you felt the line tug upwards to safety.

 As soon as your legs surfaced the water, the same hand breached past the waves, long nails digging into the skin of your calf, before getting caught in the buckles of your brown boot, slipping it off with ease as the siren fell back into the water. Beady eyes glowered at you as you were hoisted up the ship.

Arms were wrapped around your frame as soon as you landed in a wet, bloody heap on deck, Wooyoung’s concerned face invading your vision. His eyes flew from your leg to your bleeding, bitten hand, and finally your face. From the raindrops pattering his skin you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. He held you so tightly against his frame, fingers coiling into your wet locks, his chest heaving heavily in panic. Your widened eyes could only stare straight ahead, arms weakly tangling around his form.

Four years later and you were left with lumpy, jagged scars on your left leg and hand. There was no action taken against the fishermen that you worked for, though. You didn’t have the money or means to do anything, so Wooyoung and you decided it was best to change the tasks you were meant to complete. Delivering fish from the ports to the markets instead of helping the fishermen at sea was a much better and safer option.

The two of you fell into the same boring routine. You heard mockeries under people’s breaths regarding the two of you- how nobody wanted to adopt you due to your troublesome behavior, and Wooyoung due to the fact that he was deaf. You wanted to beat the nonsense out of the people who spoke ill of you, but you knew in doing so it would prove their point. Over the years, you have calmed down, though. Only slightly.

Grumbling to yourself, you trudged up the narrow cobblestone path, Wooyoung by your side. The two of you carried nets of freshly caught fish, ready to be displayed at the fish market. The streets were mostly empty, the orange rays of the sun filtering out the darkness as it ever so slowly broke past the horizon, golden beams shining onto the numerous white and seaglass-blue buildings. You passed the formal gardens, your eyes glued to the plumes of vibrant colors showcased behind the copper gates, wondering what it would feel like to have a picnic with your friends there. San will love it, his love for flowers inherited from his mother.

‘I’m going to smell like fish all day,’ You signed to Wooyoung, your posture and facial expression giving away your feelings even beforehand.  

His biceps flexed as he adjusted the bags in his grip, unable to reply back as his hands were full. His sleeveless shirt displayed his toned, tanned arms, leather pants fitting quite nicely on his form. You knew he was teasing you as he took larger and quicker strides, leaving you behind. You waddled your way after him, your protests quite literally falling on deaf ears. 

You traded the fish for a sachet of silver coins, making sure to count the amount before your departure from the seafood market. On your way back to the docks, you stopped to grab a loaf of freshly baked bread and tea, offering the taller male walking with you. Elderly women can be spotted hunching down to tend to their rice fields, wide brimmed hats shielding them from the rising sun.

 Children began walking down the streets, dressed in the typical blue and white school uniform. You occasionally wished that Wooyoung and yourself grew up with those privileges- only worrying about upcoming tests and what meal you’ll devour after coming back from school. Despite the tiring labor, Wooyoung and yourself at least had each other’s company to enjoy, and you were grateful to have him by your side every second.

Overall, the waters were quite safe since that incident that occurred five years ago. The fishermen treated you both very well, always slapping at Wooyoung’s broadened shoulders and biceps playfully. They often teased you about being in a relationship, but quickly learned the sibling dynamic between the two of you. Wooyoung’s nose always scrunched in distaste at the memory.  

It was noon and the two of you finally finished your daily fish delivery trips. You decided to pay San a visit at his family’s library, his nose immediately scrunching up while he greeted you at the front desk. 

‘Would it kill you two to go shower before you visit?‘ he signed in annoyance, fingers then clamping around his mouth and nose.

You attempted to hug him, and he hastily backed away in his seat, a book smacking you in the arm in retaliation, a strangled sound emitting from the back of his throat, “Stop, (y/n)!” 

“But I missed you, Sannie,” you frowned, pulling Wooyoung forward by the elbow, ‘Wooyoung wants a hug too.’

‘You won’t die if I don’t hug you,’ San shook his head, propping the frames on his nose a bit higher, giving you two a pointed look.

‘Yes we will,’ Wooyoung protested, a pout finding itself onto his features, earning him a glare from San as you cackled,’Are you ready for the competition later?’

‘More than ever. Too bad the brat can’t attend,’ Wooyoung snorted at the response, hastily covering his mouth as you gave him a swift, sharp look. It was no surprise that Wooyoung used his hard earned silver coins to enlist in San’s swordsmanship school, much to the other’s delight. Tonight was the end of the season’s competition, but to your dismay, you had errands to complete before the prince’s coronation tomorrow.

San was peeved at the idea of you not attending, but Wooyoung clearly saw the irritation being directed at the fact that you couldn’t attend because of the prince and not due to the errands you were forced to complete. He rolled his eyes whilst gazing at your mouths moving rapidly in a display of ongoing bickering. The two of you were so oblivious to each other, Wooyoung found it gross. Endearing, but gross.

Later that night, Wooyoung returned home to the housing facility, his nose scrunching up in delight as he proudly displayed his second place trophy in the air. Throwing your arms around his neck and shaking his frame excitedly, you laughed as he stumbled back from the sudden attack. 

‘I’m so, so proud of you!’

A smile found itself resting on his features as he tugged you close to return the gesture. 

He was beyond grateful to have someone that felt like family.

Wooyoung rubbed the small amount of rose water in his hands and brushed his fingers through your hair, giving it a gentle tussle. He adjusted the clips holding your hair in place, before eyeing your reflection in the mirror, throwing a thumbs up and proceeding to pinch your cheeks. Swatting his hands away in protest, you turned to examine yourself at a different angle,’Do you think purple suits me?’

‘Of course. Every color suits you.’

‘But do you think I look good in purple? Should I wear the blue one instead?’

‘I’m pretty sure San will love it. Two of his favorite-’

You furiously signed that you did not even bring San’s name into the conversation, and Wooyoung snickered at your flustered reaction. You hated how well he read you- how easily he read every feeling you attempted to bury and conceal. 

And you hated the fact that you had no confidence to confess your feelings in the first place.

The night of Prince Hongjoong’s coronation was much like the night of his coming-of-age celebration, only now Wooyoung and you were older— and being older meant partying harder.

Wooyoung watched you stumble into a pole, snickering and tugging you towards himself to stabilize your tipsy form. San shook his head as he walked back towards you with three sticks of fried pastry, his lips parting to scold you, “You're lightweight! You shouldn’t have drank so much, (y/n).”

Wooyoung has spent a good amount of time with the both of you, and after years of friendship, he often picked up on reading your lips as you two argued. He rubbed your shoulders in silent understanding, knowing fully well you downed that liquor in hopes of gaining confidence to actually look San in the eye and not have to deal with flushed ears and bickering to conceal your feelings. San in traditional garments was your utter weakness.

It had the opposite effect, really. You complained about his voice being too loud, and how the lights were too bright around you— how the smells of the street food were too strong. Wooyoung offered you a bottle of water, forcing you to down it all in one go in order to clear your mind a bit. He gave San a knowing smile as he watched from the sidelines, adam’s apple bobbing nervously at the sight of streaks of water cascading down from the corners of your lips and onto your neck, your clavicles glistening underneath all of the oil lamps illuminating the streets. Once catching the lavender haired male’s smirking gaze, the other silently scrunched his face in embarrassment, swiftly turning away to eye the closest confectionery shop.

Underneath the star-filled sky, the townspeople chatted amongst each other, many of them drunk and attempting to form dance circles in the town square. Many musicians filled the streets, the sweet and joyous melodies dancing in between every corner and alley of Aurora. A few women danced with delicate and sensual sways of their hips to the beats of darbuka drums and oud notes, hungry eyes watching their every move. The scent of tobacco and alcohol filled the air. An hour later, you felt better, mind clearing slightly. 

The smell of fresh pastries and milk custards wafted through the air, as you shared a large piece of cinnamon cake between the other two boys. Wooyoung stood up, informing you that he needed to buy water and possibly use the restroom. 

It was only when you were left alone with San, you suddenly felt like a small and helpless bug without Wooyoung’s presence and emotional support. You can face San on normal days, but when he’s dressed like this, hair slicked back, and the back of his ears and wrists shining with sandalwood oil-based perfume, your confidence crumbled into a mere speck of dust.

“You look pretty,” he started, voice quiet as his kohl lined eyes fixate on the cake between the two of you, “Purple suits you, you know?”

You scrambled to find a coherent reply, mind too frazzled at the sudden bold comment from the man across from you,. You needed to be casual, natural- needed to say something that won’t scare him off, or make you sound too desperate.

“You look hot when you spar.”

His eyes widened in surprise at your confession, jaw dropping in disbelief, cinnamon frosting and cake crumbs coating his cupid’s bow, and you suddenly wished you drank more of that nasty rum earlier.

Half an hour passed as the two of you awkwardly exchanged hints and implications of your feelings, when suddenly your brows furrowed, your frame rising up from your seat at the wooden table, “Okay, now I know for a fact that he’s lost. It’s been too long-”

“But he knows his way through town, (y/n). Besides, this is his favorite bakery— no way he’ll get lost,” San reassured, finger flicking the strand of hair that fell into his gaze. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, hand running through your hair as you took a few steps away from the table, calling out back to him, “You stay here in case he comes back. I’ll go look for him, okay?”

After a nod of approval, you sauntered off among the sea of crowds searching for a mop of purple hair. You grew tired after half an hour of searching, even returning back to San in hopes that Wooyoung found his way back. When he saw dread fill your eyes at absence of the male, he stood up, cupping your your panic stricken face and telling you to calm down.

“You check the south, and I’ll check north, got it? We’ll meet at the same spot after half an hour,” he squeezed your shoulder and offered a small smile, “He’ll be okay. He’s Warrior Wooyoung after all. I trained him well.”

Fifteen minutes ticked by and you attempted to push down the heavy and negative thoughts invading your mind. This was not like back in the orphanage. Wooyoung was not the little, scared, helpless little boy. He was strong, brave, and—

You walked straight into a firm chest, hands reaching up to stabilize you as you stumbled back on your feet, head snapping up to apologize, “Ah, Pipsqueak. You’ve grown quite nicely since the last time I’ve seen you.”

Your eyes widened at the familiar voice, you hand immediately reaching up to swat at his arms, only for him to pull back defensively. Oh, how you hated the sight of his face and the sound of his voice. The gods must have loved Wooyoung for not granting him the sense of hearing, because you knew Minjae’s voice was disgusting enough to make anyone’s ear’s bleed. 

“Whoa- whoa! So hot-headed, still?” He laughed, eyes tracing every curve of your frame as he took a few steps back,”I see you’ve only psychically changed. But here,” he tapped his temple, broad shoulders on full display as he crossed arms,”You're still the same kid who was all bark and no bite.”

“I punched you, and you cried like a baby in front of the entire orphanage,” you stated matter-of-factly. 

The amusement in his eyes drifted away like the clouds blanketing the bright, full moon. You hated to admit it, but now that he was much, much taller than you, broader than you, and clearly stronger than you, it made you just a tiny bit anxious. You had no doubt that he’ll be able to manhandle you with just one hand, easily taking you down. A sneer met his features, “Ah, the day your idiot of a boyfriend was introduced to us, right? I heard you were also locked in the director’s closet as punishment.”

“Say that again, I dare you,” you spat back, mirroring his own sneer. He shrugged his shoulders, leaning back slightly against the wall beside him, as a snort of amusement escapes his  throat, “Why? Don’t like when I talk about him? Can’t believe Stupid grew up to beat me in second place,” he paused, as if contemplating his next words carefully, “It’ll be the last time, though. I can guarantee you that, love.”

Silence struck between the two of you.

You stared at his cocky smirk, his last words reverberating in your mind. His smile only broadened at the sight of horror and realization washing over your features. Suddenly, he found himself jerked down by the collar of his traditional garb, your hands itching to clobber that smile off his chiseled visage, “What did you do to him! Where is he!?”

He laughed at your attempt to intimidate him, gently prying your fists off of him as he patted the crown of your head in mock affection, “Don’t know. Maybe he’s partying, maybe he’s with San, or maybe..” he straightened his back, lips pursing whilst tapping his temple in thought, “..he’s being eaten alive by the sirens. Your guess, Sweetheart.”

You didn’t even realize you were already tripping on your feet to reach the docks in the southern part of town, Minjae’s amused laughter ringing behind you, your heart hammering in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins. You pushed past drunkards, guards, adults, and hell- even children without a second glance or care in the world. There was no time to find San, the tears in your eyes flying into the air like tiny pearls as you flung yourself corner after corner between the blue and white buildings in a rush to reach the shore.

You will never forgive yourself if you didn’t find him alive. — Wooyoung was angered at his predicament. He should have known it was a trap, but he had a big heart, deciding to push his suspicions away when a lady asked him for help regarding her puppy at the beach. Well, at least that’s what he assumed when she pulled out a picture of a dog, pointing in the general direction of the harbor.

As soon as his suspicions surfaced, it was too late. She turned around so quickly, he had no time to react when she swung her heavy, straw bag onto his head, stumbling back and shielding his face. He was then ambushed by a group of men, who then proceeded to not only tie his wrists and ankles together, but also shove him in one of the smaller docked boats, working quickly to untie the thick ropes attaching it to the dock, allowing it to drift off yards away into the dark sea. 

Even during his delirious state, he didn’t fail to recognize one face in particular- the same face who glowered at him while he received the second place trophy yesterday night. Even with third place, Minjae still wasn’t satisfied, not when the kid he loved to pick on beat him at his own game, with much less training and practice. His ego was as easy to bruise as a banana.

With no paddle or oar, Wooyoung’s attempts to return back to shore with his bound hands were fruitless. As the boat drifted off even further, he flung his hands to grasp the edge of the jagged rocks, finger scraping against the barnacles and limpets that cracked underneath his steady grip. The blankets of green algae coating the rock causes his fingers to slip and slide, sharp points of the rocks and tiny mussels no help in aiding him whatsoever.

Panic and dread settled in his system, much to his displeasure. San taught him that a clear mind will do wonders when one in is in trouble, however looking at his situation now, it’s almost inevitable what will happen to him. He can barely make out the dock now, the glow of the town still visible from where he grasped onto the rocks for dear life, feet still bound in the boat. It was dark outside, people were busy with the coronation, and he couldn’t hear anything or anyone. 

The waves were strong and yet gentle at this distance, the boat rocking noisily against the large stones. The moon’s reflection in the water rippled, and a mop of blonde hair surfaced, startling Wooyoung suddenly. The being’s lips moved slowly, as if he were chanting calmly, eyes holding a mischievous fire within them. The man’s skin had an iridescent glow to it underneath the moonlight, specks of turquoise lining the sides of his neck and cheekbones. 

“Which human is stupid enough to take a swim at night during a full moon, hm?”

Pectoral fins on his neck flapped gently in the water, gill cavities visible from where Wooyoung stood. The being’s hair was reminiscent of the golden threads of the royal family garbs, and Wooyoung could only gape in sheer shock at the creature’s beauty. When he made no move to submerge himself in the water, the creature circled around the boat, brows furrowing in confusion. His lips moved rapidly now, shaping words Wooyoung had a difficult time deciphering, especially with such dim lighting.

From this distance, Wooyoung made out a large turquoise tail, which glimmered within the moonlight right below the surface of the water, and only then did he realize that the creature was the same one in the books he’s read about in San’s library as a child. However, this time, you weren’t there to fight the imaginary creatures on his behalf, and he was alone, stuck at sea along with said creature.The drawings did little to no justice in capturing the painful beauty of the beasts, though.

The siren’s lips parted, teeth so sharp like the daggers he trained with, anger now evident in his eyes as he swam much too close to Wooyoung’s comfort. “Why are you not abandoning your boat to come to me, you filthy human?” the creature sneered, jagged claws scraping at the edge of Wooyoung’s boat. 

Golden eyes widened as Wooyoung swatted the creature’s hands away in retaliation. The siren reeled back in surprise, shock enveloping his features as the human glowered down at him. Bounded hands or not, Wooyoung will not go down without a fight. If you were here, you would be proud, he thinks.

When the creature attempts to grasp the edge of the boat once more, tilting it down to capsize it, Wooyoung’s hands reach out to scrape long stripes onto the being’s arms, his scaly, slippery flesh cool to the touch. He made no attempt to smirk cockily at the shocked creature as it pulled back with a hiss. It still had the upper hand in this situation. Warily, the golden haired being swayed gently along with the waves, his eyes searching for an answer in the boy’s face. Turning hastily to eye the structure of the rock, Wooyoung contemplated trying to climb onto the high surface for safety despite his restraints. Maybe the morning sailors and fishermen will find him in the early hours of the morning.

“Ah, you’re quite boring,” he drawled in disgust, “I like them when they scream and cry.”

This is definitely a crazy one. Maybe Seonghwa will enjoy tearing him open instead.

Wooyoung startled at the noise that invaded his mind, frantically looking around for the source, only for his eyes to lock onto the back of the being’s head. Did he just hear? That was a voice, right? 

‘Are you talking about me?’

The creature was now far enough for the reflection of the moon to ripple between the two. 

‘Hey! Was that you speaking? How can I hear you?’

Wooyoung was certainly not expecting shock to wash over the being’s features, his lips parting in a silent gasp as he turned his head to gaze back at him over his scaly shoulder, golden orbs widening. Just who was this human?

‘How are you communicating with me telepathically? This is not possible,’ the creature made no move to swim closer, uncertainty in its eyes,’What kind of human are you, boy?’

Wooyoung didn’t know how to respond, the confusion in his eyes mirroring the creature’s,’I don’t know,’ his hands gripped the boulders roughly as a harsh wave rocked the boat. With desperate eyes, he pleaded to the creature,’Please help me reach back to shore.’

Wooyoung didn’t need to hear to know how amused the creature was at his words. Throwing his head back with laughter, golden strands glimmering with every movement,’A siren? Helping a human?’ he swam slowly to the purple haired male, golden orbs narrowing into a threatening glare as he spat his next words harshly,’I don’t help your kind. I find it much more amusing to rip you measly humans open by your throats, watching your life flash before your eyes as you choke on your blood, before you sink to the pits of the ocean where your pathetic wastes of bodies are gnawed on by sea creatures. You should’ve listened to the warnings in your bedtime stori-’

“Wooyoung!” 

The motion of the siren’s head snapping to the side bought Wooyoung’s attention up to that direction, eyes squinting to make out a figure struggling to make it past the onset of waves in a small coracle. Relief washed over him, his eyes widened in recognition, unable to wave his bound hands in fear of losing his grip of the rocks. 

“Oh, thank the heavens you’re—”

Knowing fully well he couldn’t hear you, you couldn’t help but shout in relief at the mere sight of his intact body. It was only when you noticed the head of blonde hair in the water that the oar nearly slipped out of your hands. In a desperate attempt to further the distance between Wooyoung and that damned siren, you were quick to whip your shoes in its direction, aiming for the creature’s head. 

“Get away from him!”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened at your actions, shaking his head frantically to get your attention,’Stop, you idiot!’ His face said it all, but you were too engrossed in yelling profanities at the creature, whose eyes flickered from the floating shoes and back to your heated face. When the siren’s lips curled back, sharp teeth glimmering in the moonlight to make his way to end your life, Wooyoung rushed to stop him, knowing fully well what will conclude if he didn’t,‘Stop! No! Don’t hurt, (y/n)! Please.’

‘One strange human after another. Give me one reason I shouldn’t snap this human roach’s neck this instant,’ the creature hissed underneath his breath, molten gold orbs furiously trained on your approaching figure. Wooyoung’s eyes frantically flickered back and forth from your outraged form and back to the crouching siren, whose face sunk in the water until he was eye level with the surface,’Well?’

‘(Y/n).. (y/n) is my lover?,’ Wooyoung threw in a white lie, wincing at the irrational thoughts he shared with the creature. Whether or not the creature knew he was lying, he hoped that was enough to deter him, even slightly. Golden eyes peered at him in faint curiosity, a scoff escaping the creature’s lips in bubbles, before he dipped himself fully underneath the water’s surface, swimming his way in your direction, ignoring the frantic thoughts of the purple haired male drilling in his mind.

You glared down at the creature underneath the water, whose amused eyes studied your seething form. You aimed the oar, plunging it down with a loud plop of the water. A laugh rang out behind you, and you found yourself suddenly tilting face first into the water. Your frantic swimming came to a halt when the creature circled around you beneath the surface, long turquoise tail curling around your frame in amusement. Beams of moonlight illuminated his iridescent face, which was mere inches away from your own, his lips stretching wide to reveal two rows of sharp, jagged teeth, golden strands dancing and framing his face beautifully. 

You refused to allow this fish to scare you– not like last time. It was that sudden impulse that prompted you to angrily tug at the fins on his neck, before you gripped his long, wavy locks back, fingers roughly digging into the gaps of his gills. 

If you had air, you would’ve laughed at the stupefied expression on his face, but before you made another move, his tail smacked you upside the head, taking you by surprise. He wriggled away from your grasp, swimming away and allowing the darkness of the ocean to engulf his figure. 

Breaking the surface of the ocean, you spotted a panic stricken Wooyoung, whose shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of your smiling face. You ignored the glare he sent you as you swam a few feet to retrieve the floating oar, before making your way over to his boat, struggling to climb in. You clung onto his dry form, hands cupping his face to examine it and his neck, looking for any sign of harm.

He struggled to sign words with his bound hands, his chin jutting in the general direction of the shore, silently asking you to start paddling. Golden hair and eyes broke the surface of the water yards behind the boat, watching you struggle to keep the boat steady and straight. ‘Visit me again, Human. You’ve intrigued me.’ Wooyoung’s head snapped back at the sound, but all he could make out was a ripple of the water. You found yourself hunched down, a jagged stone in hand as you attempted to slice through the hemp twine encasing Wooyoung’s limbs. The two of you walked to the nearby promenade, the low lighting of the lampposts around you not aiding your sight in the slightest. With the adrenaline now fading away, the reality of what just occurred finally began to sink in your frazzled mind. Your hands trembled as you sliced through, tears dropping in pearls onto the pavement. You were so, so close to losing the only person you called family. Was this the feeling of what having a family meant? The impending doom one feels when their loved one is in danger? You hated it. You loved Wooyoung, but you hated this foreign feeling. It was ugly and it tore you down from the inside out, disrupting your breathing pattern and train of thought. Off to the side, the gentle waters rocked the small dinghies and larger day boats nestled on the side of the promenade. The moon’s reflection was stunning against the calmer waters of this side of town. “Where have you been!?” San’s frantic cry snapped your attention from cutting the bonds around Wooyoung’s arms, and up to the confused, ebony haired male who hunched forward, clutching the wall to steady his breathing,”I checked the entire south shore! Minjae said Wooyoung-” “You best believe I’ll have him expelled from your school after the stunt he pulled,” you growled, finally tugging the last of the thick twine from the purple haired boy’s limbs, your hands still trembling with anger, before you hurled the stone against one of the smaller boats, the water rippling as it dropped down, “I’ll— I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll snap his neck in half- as soon as I get my hands on him I-.. I will squeeze his throat until he’s as blue as the ocean..” Wooyoung’s hands fisted around your lithe fingers, his arms pulling you into his chest tightly as you desperately gripped the back of his shirt, too afraid to let him go. San’s expression fell at the sight, his hands reaching to rub the both of your backs. ‘Are you okay?’ San pulled the other into a hug, hand cradling the other’s head tenderly. Wooyoung pulled away to nod, a silent storm forming in his brown hues, which you two failed to see past the anger and relief that washed upon reuniting with your friend. Later on, San happily visited you to inform you of Minjae’s expulsion from the swordsmanship program, the school stripping away all of the past medals he obtained. He was happy to have him gone and have you not behind bars for attempted murder. He refused to let you know where Minjae lives. — Peeling his eyes open, Wooyoung found himself submerged within the dark depths of the ocean. No marine life swam by, and strong beams of sunlight danced beneath the surface of the water. He kicked his legs and arms in an attempt to swim up to the surface. Strangely enough, he hadn’t felt the need for air. A few seconds before he breached the surface, a kind face hovered above the water, the person’s visage distorted with the moving water. A hand plunged down the water hastily, the pads of two fingers grazing his forehead ever so gently, before he found himself being dragged down to the ocean’s dark trenches by a strong force, his arm instinctively flinging up to try and reach the outstretched hand. He felt a scream slip past his lips as a clawed hand pierced through the flesh of his neck, dragging upwards towards his chin, the blood beginning to waft into the water around him. The manic laughter emitted from the creature practically curdled his blood, and his vision was suddenly overtaken by a set of teeth so sharp they resembled daggers. The creature’s jaws snapped so tightly around the junction of his nec— Wooyoung’s frame shot up suddenly. His chest heaved with rapid, heavy breaths, heart practically convulsing in his ribcage. Swallowing thickly, his wide, paranoid eyes scanned his environment, shoulders relaxing subtly as he took in the sight of the messy living space he shared with you. Beams of sunlight flickered through the curtains, birds chirping happily in the early hours of the morning. He heard your faint breathing from the bottom bunk, and he fluttered his eyes shut in relief. Throwing himself back, he gazed up at the chipped, stained ceiling, face and arms glistening with a sheen of sweat. The constant nightmares still will not hinder his decision to meet with the siren. He wanted answers. He needed answers. A month passed since the incident and Prince Hongjoong’s coronation, and you grew increasingly worried about Wooyoung. He appeared to be in his own world when hauling the nets of fish every morning, his eyes trained onto the ocean the entire time. The cries of seagulls could be heard as they dipped and soared overhead near the docked fishing trawlers. Your brows knitted in confusion as his gaze never left the vast expanse of the gentle waters, despite the most clouding the air. Just what was he searching for? You’ll study him a bit more before confronting him- that sounded like a good enough course of action Wooyoung also spent a ridiculous amount of time in the town’s library while he wasn’t training with San. While he loved reading with you and San when he was younger ( San and you took turns wither narrating or animatedly sign the words for him for a better experience in storytelling), he never really went out of his way to read on his own accord. He had shook his head when you asked if anything was bothering him. Even San couldn’t get him to reveal the cause of his sudden curiosity of the mythical sea creatures. You decided not to pry too much, instead focusing on completing more tasks to get an extra heap of silver coins before San’s birthday, silently promising yourself to buy him that golden cutlass sword he set his eyes on months ago. When Wooyoung wasn’t in either the library, or training, he sauntered off without informing anyone. You were worried at the sudden change of behavior, but after speaking with San, you came to realization that Wooyoung was an adult now, and he didn’t need supervision or protection like he once did as a child. You still couldn’t shake that gnawing feeling out of the pit of your stomach. ‘Is everything okay with you?’ you asked one day, book in your lap forgotten as you stared at him from your seat on the lower bunk bed. The smell of salt and sea lingered in your small space from the opened window in the back. He lifted his umber hues for the briefest second to watch you repeat the gestures before nodding with a half-hearted smile, turning back to his book on the small table in the corner of your one-room living quarters. Miffed at his lack of honesty, you crawled out of the space, book tossed aside as you roughly dragged the chair back to plop across from him, eyes searching his face for answers,’Where have you been going off to?’ Quirking a brow at your pushy and intrusive choice of words, he held himself back from rolling his eyes,’It’s nothing important. Don’t worry about it.’ He returned his gaze back to the book, lavender locks falling into his eyes. You swiftly snatched the book away from him, eyes scanning the page quickly before he practically jumps onto you, face contorted into disbelief and anger, his expression clearly asking you if you had lost your mind,’Why are you suddenly so interested in sirens? Why do you disappear for hours on end almost every single day?’ ‘I told you it’s nothing important. Go to sleep,’ anger was clearly evident on his features and his demeanor. He plopped down back into his seat, book concealing half of his face as his eyes flickered to you in frustration. ‘You’re trying to find that siren, aren’t you?’ He stilled, mind reeling at the accusation, before he snapped the heavy book shut with a loud slam, ignoring your existence completely as he made his way over to the ladder to reach his top bunk. You grabbed him by the back of the shirt, turning him around to point a finger in his face, relying on him to read your lips, the anger in your system seemingly unbearable, “Am I right!?” ‘Stop treating me like I’m your son. Goodnight, (y/n).’ He left no room for arguments, eyes void of any warmth at your nosy questions. You watched him crawl into his covers, his back facing you. Scoffing to yourself, you reached down to snuff the oil lamps, the sudden darkness of the room concealing the hurt expression that painted your features. Wooyoung didn’t bother exchanging words with you the next day during your fish deliveries. You glowered at his retreating figure as he just waved a goodbye. You thought it was best to ignore the brat, and instead focus on the errands left on your plate. The tasks you completed were mostly deliveries of goods, and cleaning the docks and beaches of the litter and waste the townspeople left behind. You grimaced as you picked up what appeared to be the remnants of a torn loincloth and a shattered bottle of rum, throwing it in the plastic bag you carried in your gloved hands. Turning swiftly back to the pile you created up the slope of the rocky area of the beach, a flash of purple froze you in your tracks. You blinked, but nothing was there. Furrowing your brows, you decided to investigate, just to make sure the sun hadn’t baked your brain and burned your eyes. Placing the parchment bag down to steady it against a sturdy rock, you padded your way towards the sea cave that the villagers always warned kids not to venture off into. The water reached your ankles as you hesitantly stepped into the quiet cave, beams of sunlight guiding you through the tunnel of rocks. You grimaced at the feeling of algae and barnacle on the wall, feet stepping cautiously onto the wet boulders. You turned a corner, eyes immediately catching sight of the opening on the top of the cave, which filtered strong beams of rays into the shallow, turquoise and blue waters of the cave. Not quite paying close attention to your footing, your ankle caught onto a chunk of seaweed, toes stubbing against a jagged stone. You yelped loudly, your voice echoing in the cave as you crashed into the waist deep water. Before the thought of getting up even crossed your mind, your eyes widened at the sight of the familiar siren, who bristled in front of you, the long, protruding rays on his frame flaring out in anger, claws and jagged teeth ready to rip you apart if it wasn’t the blur of purple that hovered above you with arms spread out in defense. A whistling hiss emitted from the creature as he peered at you from over Wooyoung’s shoulders, face contorted into a glare, “Wooyoung!? You—...” the pain from your fall was now buried underneath the rising anger that bubbled from within you. Pointing an accusing finger at the creature, you glared back, “You! I knew it! You seduced him! You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?!” “How disgusting that you think I’ll reduce myself to seduce a human being of all things. I would much rather kiss a squid. I want nothing to do with you filthy pests.” You smacked Wooyoung’s calf in confusion, angrily signing at the sight of his embarrassed expression,’What are you doing here with a siren!?’ ‘Why were you following me?’ ‘I wasn’t! I was running an errand when I saw you come here! He seduced you. He sang for you, and you-‘ your hands just could not keep up with your racing thoughts. You opted to spit out your words, mostly for the siren to hear,“I’ll slice him like a trout and sell his flesh in the market- now move, Wooyoung,” you proceeded to step around the taller male, your bare hands clawing at the air as he tugged you back by the waist, the siren staring at you with a dull expression. “Crazy human,” he simpered at the sight of your frustration, “Your boyfriend can’t even hear me sing.” You kicked at the water at the smug expression of the siren, Wooyoung’s jaw dropping in disbelief, @He’s not my boyfriend, you putrid fish! If I find out you’ve hurt him in any way-” With a wave of his tail, you found yourself drenched from the head down. — Crossing your arms in anger, you leaned against the mossy wall of the cave, glaring holes into the siren’s head, as Wooyoung finished explaining everything, demeanor nervous and all as you rung your shirt for the third time to rid your attire of the seawater. Seagulls cawed around the roof of the cave, and small creatures climbed in between the cracks and crevices of the rocks surrounding you. Yeosang was leaning forward, arms crossed against a rock, chin tucked up onto his arms as his tail swished languidly in the water behind him. “Is it true that Wooyoung can speak to you telepathically?” you peered over the boy’s shoulder, quirking a brow at the bored siren, who was busy toying with a cluster of barnacle. He nodded, rolling his eyes as you asked for an explanation as to why that was possible. “Don’t know. Your lovely human friend here has been reading about it all month, and I can’t come up with anything rational either,” he threw himself back, eyes squinting as beams of sunlight flashed onto his face, “He’s been meeting me here to ask questions and learn about our kind. Curious little guy, but naive. It’s great that the runt has you following after him like a little sandpiper, or else I probably would have killed him that night.” He burst into a fit of mock laughter at your panicked expression, leaning back against a rock and crossing his arms over his chest, green, transparent gills dripping with seawater, “Kidding. I’ve never met a deaf human and a ..” he eyed you up and down, tongue gliding against his sharp teeth as he thought of a way to describe you, “Earth roach.” Wooyoung shot you a look as you attempted to grab a seashell to thwart it at the siren, “Why should we even trust you? You’ve killed too many humans. One of you attacked me too!” “You don’t have to trust me,” his tail fins swayed gently in the water as he threw a smirk your way,”Ah, so you’re that human that managed to escape from Seonghwa years ago? You left some ugly damage to his gills that day, y’know. Couldn’t sing for a week. He’ll be happy to know I found you.” “It’s against the law to interact with sirens anyway. I don’t want to see that bastard.” “Well, I guess I should call the King on you two for breaking the law? Or better yet, maybe I’ll tear you apart to see how you look from the inside. Red is my favorite color for a reason.” You rolled your eyes, tugging at Wooyoung’s elbow to get his attention. You urged him to go home with you and leave the siren be, but he wouldn’t budge, sitting down onto one of the dry rocks, hands grabbing at the forgotten book. You argued back and forth, exchanging glares of protest as he told you he’ll be fine. “He is a siren,” you cried, hands grasping his shoulders, face leaning in, “He will kill you!” ‘He would have killed me weeks ago, if he really wanted to,’ he defended, mirroring your own fierce glare. Twenty minutes ticked by, and you eventually gave up attempting to persuade him. Wooyoung was as stubborn as a rock. You decided it was best to just trust him, even if you did think he was insane for interacting with a siren like it was a friend. Like it was human. Like it had compassion and empathy. It was nothing but a blood-thirsty killer. His explanation just had no merit to it whatsoever. A month passed and Wooyoung wasn’t killed, so you assumed all was well. The last thing you expected was to see Wooyoung walk back into your complex, one late night, with disheveled hair and purple marking on his neck. The straw broom in your hands fell onto the floor with a loud clang, as you attempted to near him in suspicion. His hands hastily shot up to conceal the love-bites with the collar of his blouse, but your hands were quick to push them away. You glared into his eyes disapprovingly as his face flushed in embarrassment, “Please tell me it wasn’t him.” Anger suddenly washed his features as he read your lips. He pried your arms off, angrily shoving past you to reach the closet for a change of clothes. You rushed to stand in front him, arms crossed and features cold,’You can’t expect me to be okay with this. He’s a siren. You can’t love a siren. Don’t go see him again, please. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.’ ‘I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself,’ his gaze was cold. ‘I didn’t say you were, but I’m scared. What if he hurts you?’ ‘It’s because I’m deaf, isn’t it? You think the world is out to get me, and I’m not capable of handling anything by myself?’ You vehemently disagreed with his thoughts, but he left no more room for argument as he slammed the door to the bathroom shut, rattling the figurines on top of the wooden dresser you shared. The sound of the shower head was audible through the door as you furiously swept the remaining dust bunnies. This went on for about two more months The past two months have also been increasingly difficult for San and his mother at home. Your other friend grew somewhat distant and cold when you came to visit him at home. You didn’t need any explanation about his behavior. Mrs. Choi’s attempts at concealing the blooming blue and purple marks proved fruitless as she reached up to dust bookshelves, her shirt giving way to showcase the marks marring her skin. Her eyes seemed to always shine with a thin layer of tears, and her smile was forced half of the time.

San was aggressive whilst practicing and honing his swordsmanship skills, muscles burning in protest as he slashed at slabs of wood repeatedly, his cheeks rosy underneath the evening sun. Not even your arms tugging him away from the practice field sufficed in calming his raging nerves down, shouting at you to leave if you didn’t want to watch. There was a need to continuously grow stronger- you clearly saw it past his anger and frustration. He wanted, needed, to feel as if he had power over something. With a heavy heart, you nodded in acceptance, sitting off to the side to watch him burn himself out physically. He also partook in extra duels, so many that a limit had to be placed on how much he could take part in. During times like these, you realized being raised as an orphan was nothing compared to living with an abusive father. You only wished to stop feeling so helpless, wishing you could help carry the pain and exhaustion weighing San’s shoulders down.

One day, while the three of you sat together in a nearby cafe, he picked at his baked tart, eyes then darting from you quietly sipping your tea to Wooyoung who stuffed his mouth with a freshly baked croissant. The purple haired male wore a scarf around his neck, the sight of it only angering you slightly. San’s lips parted in hesitation, words dying in his throat as you glanced up at him curiously,”You okay?”

Wooyoung peered over at the ebony haired male, cheeks round with warm pastry and jam, his eyes blinking in confusion,‘Sorry, did you want a piece of my croissant?’

San snorted at the guilt ridden expression on the lavender haired male’s visage, an amused smile raking his features as he shook his head,’No. That’s fine,’ his hands hovered above his drink, lips pressed into a thin line, before he continued,’I realized I never thanked you two.’

‘Thanked us for what?’ 

‘I didn’t grow up having anyone to look up to. I only grew up knowing what I don’t want to be like. None of the children at school understood me, either. They often mocked my mother and I when they visited the library, sometimes smudging ink on their hands to resemble the bruises on her arms. They were evil, and for the longest time, I thought the entire world was as cold as they were. You two changed my entire perceptive of people, though. So, thank you. It’s years too late, but-,’ San’s bashful expression suddenly fell at the sight of the two pairs of glassy eyes,”Ah! What? Don’t even think about crying!”

—

Weeks later, and San had returned to somewhat of a healthier, emotional state of mind, spending most of his time either at the library with his mother, or training and dueling. Late nights walking on the beach also aided his frazzled nerves.

Wooyoung spent most of him time with Yeosang at the cave, and San had questioned you regarding his behavior one day when he paid you a visit, hands heavy with the dinner he helped his mother prepare. You gaped at him, chopsticks in mid-air as you gave him an incredulous look, “What? No, I didn’t reject him- I don’t even like him like that— oh heavens this is Wooyoung we’re talking about, San. He’s like a brother to me. You know that. He’s just..” What sounded reasonable enough for Wooyoung to spend more time away from the only people he considered family? What were you going to say? Picking up on San’s lingering suspicion, you placed your utensil down, sighing and ringing your fingers together as you gazed at him in contemplation, “I..” the words you wanted stuck in your throat. Swallowing thickly, you suddenly found interest in the noodles and fish on your plate, “You know I have feelings for you, and only you. No one will ever change that, San.”

You were aware of how heated his face had become at the confession, brown hues lifting to study your features warily, “Do you really mean that? Am I good enough for you?”

You push past the need to shoot him an incredulous look, instead opting to reach over to clasp his hands in your own, fingers coiling with his,”Of course, I mean it. You’ll always own my heart. It’s always been that way.”

“But I need you to tell me that I’m good enough for you,” he pushed his plate away, appetite gone as he stared stoically at you, his voice so small it sounded like a whisper,“Do you think I’m capable of protecting you? Or.. or even loving you? Am I?”

“You are. You’re more than enough for me,” you stood up to hug his head against your chest, his eyes locked on yours, stunned and almost teary-eyed, “You’ll always be enough.”

One moment you were busy eating dinner, and the next the two of you found yourselves entangled in each other’s embrace, exchanging feverish kisses and desperate, long-awaited touches that once only existed existed in your dreams, too insecure to turn them into reality. You kissed every mark and scar left from the hands of his father, murmuring gentle praises against his marred skin, his muscles rippling underneath your touch. His lips wouldn’t leave your form, biting and sucking at every expanse of flesh he could reach as he rocked into you, hands gripping your hips and waist almost possessively. 

He fell against your bare form in a heap, your conjoined bodies sticky and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. His face was buried into the crook of your neck as he suckled onto a patch of your bruised skin, hot breath fanning against your already heated flesh as he whispered sweet, muffled promises against the shell of your ear. You felt his release slowly dribble from where your bodies met, your frame squirming at the sensation as you unwrapped your legs from around his waist, spreading them apart to allow him room to settle against your panting figure.

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was into Wooyoung,” you groaned in embarrassment as he littered your chest with tiny love marks, teeth scraping against your skin in the most pleasurable way. He chuckled against your supple flesh, and it’s then you realized you haven’t seen a smile reach his eyes quite like this in all the years you’ve known him.

The next morning, he expected to find a flustered Wooyoung at the sight of San sleeping in his home, but his sheets were still pristine and untouched, just as they were the night before. He questioned you about Wooyoung while you two shared a light breakfast together, beams of sunlight doing wonders to his chiseled visage and bed hair.

“Okay, I guess I’ve been keeping this away from you for too long, and Wooyoung didn’t want me mentioning it—” An inferno set ablaze in San’s eyes, and you internally scolded yourself for the lack of appropriate words. You hastily whispered before he had the opportunity to open his mouth, “He made friends with a siren, and-”

“With a siren!?” His spoon clattered in the bowl of porridge, splashing the table and the mug of tea. Your eyes widened and you slapped a finger to your lips, telling him to lower his voice, “What do you mean be quiet!? He’s with a siren, and you’re okay with that!?”

His hard gaze was trained on you, and an involuntary shiver ran down your spine. You parted your lips to explain, when suddenly, he pushed back his seat, chair scraping the floor as he made his way over to Wooyoung’s closet, throwing on the leather baldric he found and sheathing Wooyoung’s sword, before tugging his boots only to spare you a brief glance. You trailed after San, hands tugging desperately at his arms, but he refused to turn around and listen, “Listen, I’ve tried telling him, but he wouldn’t have it! Trust me, this is going to do more harm than good- He can hear the siren! They communicate telepathically and- and.. there’s no explanation to it but please- I’ve tried persuading him, but he’s too stubborn for his own good.”

“You..,” San paused in his tracks, turning around to give you a hard stare, eyes clouded with conflict. His lips parted, before they pressed into a thin line, shoulders tense with anger, “If you think I’m going to sit back and hope one of my best friends won’t die in the hands of a monster, then you must’ve lost your mind.”

The words stung, but you knew that was his irrational side taking over. A part of you knew you couldn’t blame him for rash behavior he’s grown from being around someone as horrid as his father, “You’re going to show me where he is, before I take this to the King and have that beast slaughtered.”

You were in for a lot of shit, and you didn’t know who to be afraid of most. San, for keeping this information away from him? Wooyoung, who made you promise you wouldn’t speak of this? Yeosang, who wasn’t that quite fond of you? Or King Hongjoong, who followed in the footsteps of his father, abiding by all the laws the older has set for the people.

When San stumbled into the cave, gently prying you off, his eyes burning with rage as he searched for a familiar head of purple, “Wooyoung!”

Flashes of confusion, betrayal, and anger sparked within Wooyoung’s eyes as he noticed the two of you, his eyes sending you a silent question as you noticed the glimmer of Yeosang’s tail underneath the dark waters.

‘You have gone crazy, haven’t you?’

Wooyoung chose to ignore him, pushing past his shoulder with the books he borrowed from the library tucked underneath his arm. If he recognized the baldric fastened on San’s torso, he made no implication of it. A furious hand clamped onto his shoulder, swiveling him back to face the the seething swordsman. San threateningly leaned into Wooyoung’s face, eyes raging with an inferno of anger and hostility. The purple haired male hesitantly bought a hand up to tug at the collar of his tunic, but San’s eyes already took note of the purple marks on the column of the boy’s flesh, “Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t tell me he was intimate with it too!?”

“San,” you called out in annoyance, “Stop. He’s safe, you see? I told you Yeosang means no ha—”

A sudden flash of silver made you reel back in shock, your eyes widening at the sight of San brandishing his sharpened sword, the tip barely grazing the siren’s nose as the two froze to stare each other down. Wooyoung dropped the book he carried in surprise arms flying out to tug San’s weapon back, his own orbs furiously staring his friend down.

“Yeosang, leave!” You shouted amongst the commotion of your two friends, stepping around them to lightly push at Yeosang’s shoulders deeper into the water, “You’ll get killed! Leave!”

“Don’t underestimate me, little human. You’re going to regret the day you were born.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of his parted lips, swiftly rushing back to the other two, but you couldn’t call San in time to warn him, “Cover your-”

The sword clattered against the small boulders beneath San’s feet, eyes unfocused as the melodic sound of the siren’s call echoed within the walls of the cave, filling his ears. Wooyoung stared at his best friend’s face in shock, eyes flickering down to the sword, before he gazed at Yeosang in realization. He hesitantly watched San turn around in Yeosang’s direction, before he quickly wrapped a hand around the ebony haired male’s waist, tugging him back harshly,’Yeosang! Stop! I won’t let you kill him!’

Yeosang paid no mind to his friend’s protests, amused eyes flickering from both San and yourself, who struggled on maintaining your ears clamped with your hands. He raised his voice, lips quirking as your hands fell limp against your sides, eyes locked on the vast space in front of you. His hands itched at the thought of ripping the two of you apart from the inside out.

‘Yeosang! Stop!’

Yeosang’s voice was clearer than bells, and so devastatingly, hauntingly beautiful in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to listen to it for years to come. Wooyoung’s panic stricken eyes flew over to your form as you trudged through the waist deep water, eyes unfocused and lips parted. He struggled to maintain a firm grip on San’s figure, who continuously clawed at the arms securing him in place.

Throwing San back against the mossy wall of the cave, Wooyoung madly dashed to tackle Yeosang down into the water, immediately ceasing his singing. The siren hissed in retaliation, nails dragging down the flesh of the hands clamped onto his mouth. He furiously swung his tail against Wooyoung’s ankles, pulling him down into the water. Snapping out of your trance, you were quick on your feet to help San up, hastily gripping the heavy sword away from his grasp. When he demanded you to hand it to him, Wooyoung shoved the both of you in the direction of cave’s entrance, furiously signing to leave immediately.

‘I’ll be fine! Just leave!’

A clawed hand reached out to slash at San, and out of instinct, you shoved yourself in between him and the siren, claws latching onto your ankle. Your immediate response was to pull away, flesh tearing underneath the sharp nails, a hiss leaving your lips as the salt in the ocean doing nothing to ease the pain of your opened wounds.

Wooyoung wrestled the siren down, hands clamped around his mouth, while he shot you two a look over his shoulder, eyes wild and void of any patience. San scoffed, hand wrapping around your waist to hoist you up on your good leg, eyes narrowed furiously,”You should have never stopped me from killing it–” “Shut up, San. If you had listened to me, we wouldn’t have been in—”

You emitted a groan of pain as your wounded leg brushed against the protruding edge of a rocky sides of the cave, hissing underneath your breath as you gripped San’s forearm to ease your mind off the burning sensation. Finally stumbling down onto the pebbled floor of the shore, you paused as San pulled away from you, “You go get help, and I’ll go back and-”

“You are not going back there! He will kill you, San. Get that through your thick head.”

“He nearly killed you, (y/n)! We left Wooyoung with that monster!”

“He’ll be okay, I promise. Wooyoung will be fine,” you groaned at the sight of red running down your ankle and soaking the sand underneath your foot,”Please, just fucking listen to me for once!” He stilled at your raised voice, and your eyes widened suddenly at the change of his demeanor. You quickly grasped his elbows, attempting to look him in the eye, “Oh, San- no. No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling- I forgot-”

“We should get your leg checked out,” he quipped firmly, avoiding your gaze as he proceeded to push you in the general direction of town, his shoulders and jaw tense with unresolved tension and anger.

— It was midnight, and Wooyoung still hadn’t returned home. Your one room living space felt too vacant without him sleeping on the top bunk bed you shared. Your ankle throbbed beneath the thick bandages, the smell of herbal ointment prominent even underneath the heavy layers of cloth.

You tossed and turned in your sheets for what felt like hours. The exhaustion and worry that clouded your mind prevented you from falling asleep. You quickly sat up, reached to light your oil lamp, before making your way out of your home to wander restlessly in the desolate streets, hoping to find the purple haired male.

You paused once you stepped around the corner of San’s neighborhood. Broken and discarded glass decorated the floor near his feet where he sat against the entryway of his home. The door hung by its hinges, splintered and shattered in some areas. You nearly dropped your lamp as you rushed towards the disheveled male, whose half-buttoned up, bloodied shirt, revealed glimpses of jagged scars left from his duels. Your eyes studied his visage, brows knitting in concern at the familiar, ghostly frown. His eyes spared you the briefest of looks before he dropped his gaze down to his bloody hands. Dried tear streaks and specks of red decorated his ghostly visage. The faint barking of a dog was heard streets away.

“It’s not mine. None of it is mine,” he mumbled, noticing your stunned gaze at the sight of red.

“They fought again?” you asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded silently, arms limp at his sides, “.. and she ran away again?” Another nod, and suddenly he found himself engulfed in your hold, tears streaming down his face as he held you close, face buried against the crown of your head. His resolve shatter quicker than any glass.

“I- .. I was angry, (y/n). I fought with him,” His voice was small and wavering, jumbled thoughts spilling rapidly from his lips,”the medics took him. He called me a bloodthirsty killer– but I’m..was it was defense? That’s not considered killing, right?” His breathing quickened, chest heaving as he struggled to steady his air flow, voice rising an octave as panic laced his tone,” “I’m not a killer, am I (y/n)? I am nothing like him,” his fingers tugged at his untamed hair in frustration, pupils quivering rapidly as he attempted to calm his racing and frantic heart, “I will never be anything like him. I need you to tell me that. Tell me I’m nothing like him!”

You pulled him inside and onto the couch, stepping over the fallen furniture, splintered wood, broken flower vases, and torn, embroidered, floral tapestries that littered the floor. Your eyes caught sight of a fallen, bloodied sword you recognized from San’s practices. Cold dinner filled plates lay broken near the flipped table. You held onto your broken friend throughout the night, consoling him repeatedly and wiping away his tears. You pressed numerous kisses onto his face, your hand running through his locks as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, years of agony apparent in his loud, torturous cries muffled against your skin. The sounds made your skin crawl in the most unpleasant way. You paused only when you noted the change in pattern of his breathing, indicating his deep slumber. Your eyes glanced at the full moon out the window, only praying that both Wooyoung and Mrs. Choi were alright.

—

Wooyoung was curled onto one of the higher rocks of the cave, fast asleep. He refused to return back home, not yet ready or willing to face his friends. Droplets of seawater pelting his face startled him awake, and he sat up in confusion at the sudden sensation. This definitely do not look like the ceiling of his home. His eyes snap down to search for Yeosang, the memories from hours ago vividly etching themselves back into his mind.

His eyes locked on someone else’s- a woman’s- and his eyes could only stare back in shock at the sight of San’s mother of all people in the cave, struggling to pry a raging Yeosang off of her.

‘Yeosang! Stop! Don’t kill her! I know her-’

‘You say that about every rat of a human, don't you?’

Only when Yeosang turned to snap the intruder’s neck in half, he paused at the gleam of her necklace. His gills contracted as he gazed at the intricately carved pendant resting on the older woman’s clavicles, “Where did you get that, filthy human?” he hissed, fins and rays flaring out ferociously, his long and sharp teeth snapping at the rage in his tone,”That necklace is for my people. My clan.”

“A friend gave it to me,” the lady explained, hand protectively clutching the pendant and out of Yeosang’s sight. He glowered menacingly at her, eyes still holding numerous silent questions. His eyes glanced down at her blue and purple marred neck and décolletage, “You.. you resemble him so much. My friend. This used to be our hang out spot years ago. His name was Yeohan. Did you know him?”

Yeosang jerked back suddenly, and from Wooyoung’s spot and the darkness engulfing the cave, he could hardly make out the movements of their lips. He scrambled to climb down the rocks, making his way over, legs frantically splashing in the water.

‘Yeosang? What’s wrong?’

“How do you know my father!? He died-”

“Twenty years ago,” Mrs. Choi finished for him, his eyes growing wide with shock at the woman’s affirmation,”The king killed him for the coming-of-age ritual. He wears his coat to this day. The moment I saw you, I knew you had to have been his offspring. The resemblance is uncanny.”

“You think I don’t know the evil things you’ve done to my people?” The siren spat, “I don’t need you telling me what crimes your kind has committed-”

“I will get it back for you. His coat. I’ll return it to you here by dawn.” Silence enveloped the two as the sea creature stared with a gaping mouth at the human.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, “What purpose would that serve you? Certainly, not out of kindness?”

She only offered him a sad smile. — You adjusted your trousers one last time, before leaning down to brush the hair out of San’s face. He stirred awake from your touch, eyes tired and puffy, “Is it morning?”

You glanced at the dark window, shrugging slightly before turning back to him, “Sort of. I need to deliver the fish to the merchants. I think.. I think you should stay here until I’m back. We can go check on your mom together? Do you want the keys to my place? Go rest there while I’m away.”

He nodded with a soft sigh, hand cupping the one you placed onto his palm,”I’ll stay here to clean up. Don’t take too long, please.”

“I won’t. Just please rest for me, okay? Maybe Wooyoung will come back to visit you here.”

You pressed a firm kiss against his lips, one he gladly reciprocated even in his sleepy state, “Love you.”

You were the first to discover Mrs. Choi’s body. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared you for the sight of a corpse, limp and pale and stuck between a cluster of jagged rocks underneath a cliff. The net of fish you hauled onto your back dropped with a loud thud onto the deck of the docked fishing ship, the sailors and other fisherman yelling at you in shock. It was only when you pointed out the body swaying against the rocks with every wave that they abandoned their work to call a nearby officer. 

Dread, heavy and ugly, filled you to the core, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears drowning out the shouting in the background. Panic worked its way out of every pore on your body, your eyes locked on the floating, dark haired woman,  olive green dress swaying gently in the calm waters of the early morning.

It couldn’t be her.

She wasn’t the only woman in town with such a dress. A glimmer of hope twinkled somewhere inside of you.

Not her. Anyone but her. Upon closer inspection as the officers hauled up the body, you nearly collapsed on sight. A shudder claimed your body in realization, your blood running cold at the sight of her frozen, gaping, her lips a dark hue of blue, forehead marred and slightly dented from where she most likely impacted the rocks. You could only stare silently as the medics hauled the body up on a stretcher, placing it in the back of a large wagon, the sound of hooves hitting the rocky pavement indicating its departure.

Just how on earth are you planning on letting San know?

—

Hours later, after arguing continuously with the medics, protesting how you needed to see the body, they ultimately refused, even calling out to guards to lock you out of the medical wing of the building. The town of Aurora was coiled in chaos at the announcement of the corpse found near the docks. The councilmen furiously argued amongst each other as the crowd grew bigger in the town’s square, right beneath the large clock tower. Curious people joined along in confusion at the sudden, early commotion, some propping their windows open to tend to their clothe lines and watch with bewildered eyes.

You stood amongst the crowd, fists clenching repeatedly whilst maintaining your flaring emotions. You pondered whether or not you should stick around or go and inform San, when one of the royal family’s servants ordered the towns councilmen to the town hall for an immediate meeting with the current and former king. You turned to race towards the aforementioned building, only for a hand to grip you in place. Turning, your heart leaped in your throat at the solemn looking San. He made no move forward, and all you could do was silently gape, unsure of how you were going to break the news to him, “Couldn’t sleep. I know. The neighbors told me when I went back to check the library,” he calmly explained over the hordes of bodies shoving and pushing past the two of you. Amongst the rush of civilians, you embraced him with trembling arms, your brows knitting in anger as you buried your face into his brown tunic.

You grasped his hand in hopes of comforting him while the two of you waited amongst the crowd in the town hall for the appearance of the King and his father. He held you close, chin resting against the crown of your head. You can tell he was in shock, his grief yet to be surfaced as he held you silently. His eyes were heavy with years of turmoil and anguish, all underneath the hands of one, grimy man. Knowing him, deep down, he most likely will never find it in him to forgive himself for not chasing after his broken mother last night. It will haunt him for years to come.

King Hongjoong appeared, seated in the middle of the large bench, his father to his right. Other noblemen also sat beside the two rulers. A medical examiner spoke rapidly in hushed whispers to the white haired male, whilst pointing to several parchments of paper. The King’s brows knitted the more the examiner spoke, and he nodded solemnly, a hand reaching up to dismiss the two medical staff. A gloved hand pinched the bridge of his nose, his charcoal hues flickering to the side to glance at his father, whose stoic expression did not twitch in the slightest at the barren news. 

The Commander of the Royal Guards barked at the restless crowd of people gathered into the large room to have respect for the King, and the silence that followed suit was deafening. King Hongjoong cleared his throat, his hair pristine as usual, although there seemed to be a weight of burden and stress taking a toll on his young features. His eyes were lifeless and dark, a stark contrast to when he was much younger. 

“It’s come to our attention that the body of Mrs. Choi has been found near the harbor. Upon investigation, medical examiners have concluded that cause of death was suicide,” Hongjoong spoke clearly, voice booming in the walls of the building.

You felt San’s grip on your hand tighten, his brows furrowed as he attempted to contain his composure. You saw guilt flash within his orbs, so raw and visible it made you look away, at anything besides his face. It didn’t sound right hearing the words come out from the king’s lips. You knew Mrs. Choi as well as you knew San. There’s no way she would have willingly dove to her death. “Isn’t Mr. Choi also in the hospital for multiple stab wounds?” A voice piped from the crowd. Hongjoong frowned at the sudden interruption, his hands reaching up to adjust his cloak, when another voice spoke up.

“Where is their son? I heard from neighbors that he was the one who stabbed his father,” a middle aged man mused loudly to the crowd.

“Is that why Mrs. Choi killed herself?” a lady joined in now,”Or was her son behind her fall too?”

“What if a siren killed her?”

“Nonsense, we haven’t seen one in the past four years.”

“Then who do you think has been cutting all of our fishing nets and destroying our sails?,” a familiar voice rang out through the hall. The tall male stepped closer to the Commander, before turning to the crowd, and you watched with horror in your eyes at the next few words to slip out of the Minjae’s mouth, “I’ve been telling my dad about the purple-haired boy who’s been meeting with sirens in the cave east of town. I saw the siren with my own eyes. I told you Wooyoung was up to no good. He’s probably selling all of our people’s information to those beasts.”

Hongjoong’s lips parted to speak, anger clearly painting his features, before his father stood up suddenly, gaze hard and unwavering at the Commander. It was then you noticed the lack of cloak on his frame,”Interacting with those beasts is a criminal offense punishable by death. Find me that boy. I want him publicly executed in the town’s square. As for the librarian’s son, find him as well. Lock him in the chambers until I decide what to do with him.”

Hongjoong gaped to the side at his father in disbelief, brows knitting in confusion, his kohl rimmed eyes wide. Mingi, who stood behind the white haired King glanced at the male, shoulders tense at growing chaos infiltrating the room, “Let me make the decisions, Father. I am King, after all.”

San reached down to grip onto your hand, and when his hand curled into nothing but air, his eyes snapped down to find your figure gone. 

“You old bastard!” A sickening crunch, a wave of gasps of disbelief, and your shouting sent the townspeople into a mad frenzy.

—

Wooyoung watched the small fish swim by his feet, nibbling at his toes. He smiled tenderly, feet swishing and kicking at the animals playfully. Off to the side, Yeosang held onto his father’s cloak, so tightly and desperately as if it would disappear,’I told you that lady was nice.’

Yeosang reached up to rub at his wet eyes furiously, golden orbs flickering up to meet the umber colored ones of the male,’I take back my criticism. Maybe there are still some good humans out there. Repeat my words in front of Seonghwa, and I will personally claw out your eyeballs.’

‘If you do, how will I get to see your beautiful face?’ Wooyoung simpered, cheeks flushing slightly at the other’s thoughts. He nodded shyly, fingers reaching to grasp the siren’s hand, thumb caressing the iridescent skin,’Just like how there are sirens with good hearts as well,’ the intimate moment was soon interrupted by a frantic sound of splashing, and Yeosang’s face fell immediately upon the sight of a panic stricken San. Immediately reading the emotions haunting San’s features, Wooyoung stood up, face contorting in confusion as San scrambled to explain the gravity of the situation they were in, both verbally to Yeosang and with hand signs for Wooyoung.

‘They’re going to execute (y/n). Death by drowning.’

Wooyoung swore his heart skipped a beat or two, his eyes wide and hands limp by his sides. Yeosang quietly watched from behind him.

‘(Y/n) attacked the King’s father. They’re planning on executing you too for meeting with Yeosang. And they think I was the one who killed my mother, and they’re hunting for me, too.’

Wooyoung reeled back, the bombardment of shocking news too much for him to handle all at once, but San continued, occasionally fumbling with his hands from the sheer amount of stress surging through his system,’Wooyoung, we need to leave. Now. I’m going to bail (y/n) out, and you’ll wait for us at the west part of town. There’s a boat there. We have no time to waste,” he hastily reached forward to pull his friend up, tugging him forcibly over clusters of ocean rocks.

“In exchange, will you promise me to protect my son?”

It took Yeosang a minute or two to process the woman’s words, before he finally nodded in response, a frown settling on his features, “Only if you keep your end of the promise.” “No. You will join him on the boat and escape. Death by enforced drowning you said?”

—

You glared icily through the dark bars separating your form from the snow haired king. He ushered the guard to give the two of you privacy, and a minute of footsteps later, and the two of you were left alone in the dark chambers of the royal palace, mossy wall cold against your battered back, “What do you want?” you spat rudely, the taste of iron prominent against your busted lips, your bloodied teeth bared as you glowered at him, “If you’re here to give me shut about how I shouldn’t have attacked your swine of a—”

“They’re preparing the ship as we speak,” he cut you off, a hint of amusement dancing in his orbs joined by the flickering fire of the wall mounted sconce illuminating his features. He casted your cuffed hands a glance, before gazing at your bleeding ankle, “So, I came as fast as I could. The guards have already left to hunt down your two friends.”

Dread bled into your form, and your blood ran cold at the sudden gravity of his words. You were going to die. God, you were going to die before properly apologizing to Wooyoung, before holding San one last time, before- “I have a few words to share with you- I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell you this soon, so,” you watched him remove the golden coat around his frame, rolling it tightly before placing it down into the cell, “Incase either one of us doesn’t make it.. you know what this is, right?”

“A siren’s coat? Of course, I do. What’s your point?”

A twinge of a smile graced his features at your sharp tone, before his face fell into a solemn expression,”It’s tradition that an heir becomes of age when he or she slays a siren and wears it’s coat as a sign of dignity, bravery, and honor. It’s been the case for many generations before me. My father earned his when he was twenty-three. My mother came from another royal family from Port Hala. They do not hold similar traditions as us, and instead do not meddle or interfere with sirens. When it came for me to sail alone and kill one, at a much younger age than my father was, my mother insisted that our family breaks the tradition. My father, as you can guess, disagreed and left no room for her arguments. She threatened to take me and make a run for it if they forced me into it, and later that night, they found her body not too far from shore. My father informed the public that it was the sirens’ doing, but no one was permitted to see her body. Not even me.”

His eyes drifted to the patch of green on the wall behind you, shaking his head and continuing with a lowered voice, “So, I sailed to uninhabited islands, knowing that there were gentle sirens there, and not like the ones that lurked here amongst humans. I met one, a very young one. He was very adventurous and snuck from his kind to chase his pet octopus and.. he was harmless, unable to hear, thus never really learning how to sing any of the sirens’ songs. He was a very naive, little one. I persuaded him to come on land with me because we were friends, and I ran off with his coat, thinking it would be the last I’ll see him. I never had the courage or heart to kill him, and I never thought he’d wash up into our town, either.”

Whatever air you had left was knocked out straight from your lungs. You knew where this was going. You held his gaze with your widened orbs, bloodied jaw slack from shock.

“I intended to kill him that night he was found, but after the doctors discovered his head injury and lack of memories, other than his name among other things, I chose to spare his life. I was afraid my father and the rest of the town will find out. I was and always will be a coward, even as King of Aurora,” he mused, hands reaching up to adjust his white blouse, “I will be on board the boat taking you to your execution. My bodyguard, Mingi, will join us, along with my father’s right hand man, who was behind Mrs. Choi’s death. She was found stealing my father’s coat, but she managed to slip away before the guards had a chance to retrieve it. My father sent him to do whatever means necessary to punish her for her actions.

I know my father better than anyone else. Without a doubt, I know he was behind her death. (Y/n), please, whatever you do, do not attempt to fight him. Go with the plan. Mingi and I already discussed everything, and he will help you out once you’re dropped from the ship. I don’t plan on allowing my father to return back to town,” his eyes grew dark, the shadows of stress aging his appearance. Your eyes widened at his implications, “And I might not make it out alive. If I don’t, Mingi will give you my coat when he rescues you. I need you to apologize on my behalf if I am unable to. Mingi is a great sailor. His father taught him, so he knows his way around a ship. I want you two to escape to Port Hala as soon as you find Wooyoung, is that understood? Take Choi San with you. Mingi will take you to Yunho and Jongho, two friends of ours who will help you. This town will have your heads if you step foot back here.”

The rush of information was too much for your tired brain to comprehend so quickly. You meekly nodded, cuffed hands reaching to clasp the bars tightly, your eyes never leaving the golden coat he donned on, “Yes, King Hongjoong.” “Hongjoong. Just Hongjoong.”

—

You struggled to maintain the heavy weight of the reinforced cuffs around your wrists, body staggering forward from a boot to your back, your frame crashing into the railing of the large ship. You hissed upon impact, the marks on your ankle bleeding against the bandages. You were roughly tugged by the hair, the bruised face of the former king coming into view as his second in command held you by your disheveled locks, “Helmsman! A bit further and then you can drop the anchor!” The old man boomed, gray tresses tied tightly into a high bun, his charcoal hues burning holes into your head. 

You snuck a glance at Mingi, whose eyes never left your form. His hands gripped the steering wheel harshly, knuckles bone-white. A subtle nod of his head washed a bit of relief over your trembling frame. Hongjoong watched from beside his father, as the man shoved your face into metal railing of the ship, sharp ends of the wood slicing your cheek. A familiar glimmer in the water captured your attention, and your eyes met a pair of golden ones deep under the calm waves of the ocean. Your eyes widened, a gasp threatening to leave your lips.

The ship finally came to a halt, and a pair of shiny, leather boots invaded your vision. You glowered at the king from your position on the deck, cheekbones bruised and lip split. You spat onto his shoes, blood splattering on his ironed, white trousers. Charcoal hues void of any empathy stared down at you, before the former king’s hand reached down to tug you up by the collar of your shirt, his crown sparkling under the bright sun. You shared a look with a tense Hongjoong who remained back, his hands clenching into fists, before you were bought back to reality as the older man slammed your back against the railing, pushing you up, your frame dangerously tilting over the edge, “After my kingdom has sacrificed so much for you stupid orphans, this is how you return the favor?” he growled, the strands of his beard tickling your forehead as he gripped your jaw with his other hand, “You will wish I had just shot you when the sirens rip you apart limb by limb. Your screams of agony will sound like a beautiful melody to my ears.”

Your eyes locked with golden ones, and you couldn’t help but reflect back on the time you confronted him in the cave.

“Why do I kill you treacherous humans?” he laughed at your question, your eyes narrowing as a result. He grasped the moving whelk on the rock, clawed fingers crushing it as his gaze never left your own, “Easy. Your King took my father away from me.”

The gruff man released his hands from your collar to swivel you around, but you hastily threw your arms out to reach his head, your vision unclear with unkempt and bloody strands of your hair. The link on your cuffs latched onto the back of his neck, and you tugged him towards you roughly, hoping gravity will be of assistance. Your frames tipped down and your lips quirked up without you realizing it. The last thing you saw before you plummeted down to the blue waters was Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s shocked faces, the latter’s frame already rushing forward to try and reach you with an extended hand. The three of you were definitely expecting this outcome You dove head first into the ocean, the elderly man beside you only feet away. Your attempts to swim up to the surface proved futile as the weights of the cuffs around your ankles and wrists succumbed to gravity. A purple tail smacked your side, and you came face to face with a familiar visage, the air escaping your lungs in bubbles. Rough claws tugged on the metal chains and cuffs, and after a few attempts, the metal snapped under the pressure. 

“Wrap your arms around my neck. Don’t try anything funny, or this time I will kill you,” the purple-tailed siren growled, turning his head to glance at the other siren who seemed to enjoy circling around the man who seemed to panic at the sight of the being across from him. Golden eyes studied the old man struggling to swim up to the surface.

You desperately gasped for air once breaching the surface of the water, arms loosely wrapped around the back of the other’s neck. He paid you no mind as he carefully watched his friend’s head surface, golden eyes trained on the white haired man yelling up at the others on board to save him. 

Hongjoong’s eyes were void of any empathy as he casually crossed his arms on the railing, leaning forward and blinking in response to his father’s shouts. He spared you a second to gaze at your form, relief melting his stoic features slightly. Beside him, the second in command made an attempt to shoot at the blonde siren silently staring at the former leader, the barrel of his pistol gleaming in the sunlight. 

“Drop it,” the deep voice of the red-head was heard from behind Hongjoong, his own pistol resting against the against the man’s temple. Hongjoong didn’t bat an eyelash as Mingi overpowered the other, threatening to shoot if he didn’t comply.

“Are you crazy!? The beast is going to kill him, and all you’re doing is watching!? You’re a sorry excuse of a king- you! You have never had the power to walk in your father’s foots-” his cries were muffled against the cold, metallic barrel of Mingi’s pistol pressing against the back of his throat.

Yeosang’s gaze met Hongjoong’s, who spared him a glance before returning back to the gasping man, his hands clawing at the ship’s hull with desperate shouts.

“Don’t you recognize me, you bastard?”

The elder’s head turned to peer at the creature with fear-filled eyes, his legs beginning to tire after the long waking minutes of staying afloat.

“A disgusting beast that preys on human flesh,” the other growled, hands stabilizing his form against the ship. His intricately embroidered vest sparkled despite it being wet, dark orbs burning holes into the siren.

Seonghwa’s brows knitted as an undecipherable look washed over Yeosang’s features, his jaw tight, gills rapidly contracting. There was a raging storm within those golden hues Seonghwa hasn’t seen in a very, very long time. Yeosang’s lips twitched convulsively, a crazed look suddenly taking over his visage.

 A humorless, sarcastic laugh escaped his throat, shoulders shaking and brows knitting in confusion as he swam closer to the trembling man, “Take a good look at me! Tell me who I am!” he barked, the rays and fins on his neck flaring in the most menacing of ways, bared teeth gleaming like the ocean’s pearls.

The white haired man drew a breath, his lips parting as he glanced once more at the trembling siren, charcoal hues flashing with recognition suddenly, “You.. you’re the son? You’re his son.”

“The one you tried to kill!,” a howl of laughter left Yeosang’s mouth, as his head dipped back to gaze at a stunned Hongjoong, “Fate is quite hilarious, do you agree? Huh?” Clawed hands struck the ship’s hull, chipping the wood and creating furrows on the surface as Yeosang inched closer, “I was forced to watch my father protect me from you, only for you to kill him in front of my eyes. How brave of you to go after a four year old siren. And now, look at you, you poor, pathetic bastard,” his clawed hand reached forward to grab a fistful of white hair, roughly tugging the man’s head back to meet the gaze of his son, “Not even your son is willing to save you.”

“Shoot him this instant, you bastard! What are you doing staring at me like that!?”

Hongjoong remained as still as a statue, cold gaze unwavering. You swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch. There was a silent acknowledgement of understanding as Yeosang locked gazes with Hongjoong one last time.

“He’ll rather watch as I skin you alive. You don’t deserve the mercy of being under my song’s spell, no..” he shot his arm out, smashing the man’s face against the side of the ship, agonized howls of laughter switching to manic shouting whilst repeating the action, “No, I want you to feel everything. You’re going to feel every inch of your skin being peeled away. A coat for a coat, yes?”

A blob  of saliva flew and splattered against Yeosang’s face, dripping down to the blue waters. 

You jolted as the siren you held onto suddenly gyrated in the other direction, ripping your gaze from the scene as sounds of flesh squelching and tendons tearing came from behind. 

Seonghwa decided it will be best not to stick around to see the outcome, knowing fully well what Yeosang is capable of. He readjusted you onto his back, before commanding you to take a deep breath. An involuntary shiver ran down your spine as the pained cries of the former king were washed out with the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears. 

You were then enveloped in the dark waters of the ocean, the siren rapidly swimming yards away, surfacing for the briefest of moments in order for you to breathe. You had no chance to even ask him where he was taking you, and your mind could only wonder what Hongjoong was feeling at the moment. You were beyond exhausted, both mentally and physically. Your squinted eyes caught glimpses of the clouds of marine life that you hastily rocketed past, arms subconsciously tightening around the dark haired siren.

When the siren breached the surface, you gasped for air, your arms tightly coiled around his neck, causing him to wince and attempt to shrug you off, “Here’s the runt, as promised,” he growled, arms swiftly prying you off and shoving you forward to two other pairs. You stumbled into a tiny dinghy boat, mind too stunned to return the hugs that you were immediately enveloped in. It was the moment when fingers swiped at your cheeks that you realized you were crying, sobs of relief wracking your frame as you wrapped your arms around the other two men, struggling to explain what happened.

Wooyoung’s eyebrows shot up as San pulled you in for a kiss, an incredulous look meeting his features. Seonghwa grimaced in the water, his head turning as he mumbled something about how disgusting humans were. San shared an apologetic look towards the flustered Wooyoung, whose eyes wouldn’t stop flickering between the two of you for an answer.

‘I’ll explain later, promise,’ the ebony haired male signed, before he was forced to meet your gaze.

“We have to go back. I need to see the King,” you stated after the three of you pulled apart. Wooyoung paused whilst speaking with Seonghwa telepathically, eyes flickering to an angered San who grabbed the pair of oars from your hands, “San!”

“Are you crazy!?” He breathed out, “We’re leaving! We want nothing to do with this town any longer, (y/n). Wooyoung and I already made amends with Yeosang. We’re only waiting for him before we escape. I’m not letting you go back there, not after all the trouble we went through to get you here in the first place.” “You don’t understand!” you tried, stammering on your words, unable to conjugate any proper sentence, “Hongjoong helped me! He knows about your mother’s death- her killer! He’s on board,” you tugged San’s shirt desperately, “Hongjoong knows about Wooyoung, too! Before he came to our town! He can explain everything, please. We need to get to him. There’s no one else on board besides them, San.”

Wooyoung’s brows shot up as Seonghwa explained every word that was exchanged, his hues trained on San’s stunned expression.

A sigh left the siren’s lips.

“Yeosang owes me a lot for putting up with this shit,” Seonghwa grumbled, arms already working to push the dinghy back to where he rescued you, your words ringing in his ears like an echo. How did Yeosang manage to find three crazy humans- and what sea god decided to curse Seonghwa with this fate.

Tattered, white and gold, embroidered fabric littered the water around the blonde siren, bloodied, clawed fingers tracing the bejeweled crown in his hands, a solemn expression on his features. A heavy weight seemed to dissipate off the siren’s shoulders as an amused chuckle racked his frame, remembering the horror stricken cries of his father’s murderer.

The sight of a tiny boat in the distance caught the siren’s attention, and his golden hues narrowed in suspicion at the sight. This was not part of their plan at all. As it neared, his eyes bore heavily into Wooyoung for an explanation, flickering to San and then onto you, before he glared at an unamused Seonghwa, most likely exchanging heated words through their minds. You called out to Hongjoong to send down a rope ladder, and the white haired male’s head peeked up hastily at the sound of your voice. If San wasn’t trembling in rage beside you, you would’ve laughed at the expression on the young king’s features.

“Yeosang, are you okay?”

“You better have a reasonable explanation for this,” Yeosang stated, turning his attention to Seonghwa, whose eyes never left the crown in his hands.

A part of you wasn’t surprised at the sight of a bound and cuffed man on the ship’s deck, a bored Mingi towering over him with his dagger unsheathed.

“I had a feeling you’ll return here,” Hongjoong nodded in acknowledgement in your direction, before facing San, his expression sincere as he explained the reasoning behind his mother’s death. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks, darkening the wood beneath his feet as his eyes zeroed in on the gagged soldier feet away.

 Wooyoung’s hand clasped San’s, his heart aching for his friend. Guilt licked the edges of consciousness, regretting not asking her to stay with him and Yeosang back in the cave. If only he had, she would have been alive. Even after explaining to San, the older denying that it was Wooyoung’s fault, he still couldn’t help but feel like her blood was on his hands.

“I give you full permission to do as you wish with him,” Hongjoong squeezed his shoulder, his hand placing a long dagger in San’s palms. Your widened eyes flickered between San and the King. Wooyoung tugged you back, hands gripping your own. His eyes carefully studied San’s frozen expression, fingers twitching against the weapon in his hands, “I’m willing to do it if you don’t want to, of course.”

Mrs. Choi’s killer only shook like a leaf in the wind underneath Mingi’s feet, wild eyes watching the exchange.

San was quick to shake his head, walking past a bleak looking Hongjoong. Steady strides later, and the ebony haired male crouched down eye level towards the trembling soldier, whose eyes glared ferociously at the blank faced Mingi, “You,” he took a deep breath in, tongue darting out to lick a stripe against his chapped lips, “I bet you enjoyed killing an innocent woman, didn’t you?” A flick of silver, and the man winced at the thin, bleeding scrape on his cheek,”Answer me!”

Another flick of the dagger, and the binds gagging the man ripped into two, beads of red escaping the slice on his trembling lips, “King Kim ordered me to! The woman stole his coat! I was only following orders!” 

Hongjoong laughed from feet away, his boots stomping against the deck as he made his way over to the three men, arms crossed over his white blouse, “Mingi, do you think this poor excuse of a soldier hit his head on his way here? Who is the King of Aurora.”

“You, King Hongjoong,” Mingi quipped, a smile threatening his stony expression.

“And who should the soldiers take orders from?”

“You, King Hongjoong. Only you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes dulled as he shoved the tip of his boot into the man’s gaping mouth, pressing down against the back of his throat with hard shoves,”How silly of me. He was only following orders, though. He’s right. One must always follows the orders of a King,” his lips quirked up as he lowered his head to chuckle at the gagging man, his smile borderline manic, “San, as King, I order you to kill him.”

The man’s muffled cries against Hongjoong’s boot had no affect on San, whose hands trembled the longer he stared at him. Hongjoong urged him to go on, kicking the man away with a swift attack to his jaw, his face scrunching up in disgust at the saliva glistening on the leather.

Rays of sunlight gleamed against the edge of the dagger as San raised it high above the fallen’s neck, his hand plunging down despite the man’s strangled cries of protest.

“You’re no better than me, you son of a whore. You take joy in hurting others, don’t you? Will you get off to the fact that you’ll kill me? Will your mommy be proud of you, then?”

The man trembled, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head in shock as the dagger impaled into the wooden deck, splintering it upon impact. Moments of silence passed, the gentle breeze caressing San’s indifferent visage, dark hues hollow as he gazed down at the crying man. Hongjoong watched the retreating figure of San, before giving the sobbing man a glance over, “You’re pathetic. What did he ever see in you, anyway?” The soldier backed against the railing of the ship, profusely apologizing and bowing to Hongjoong. He turned on his heels, arm lazily coming up to wave back as he watched you console and cup San’s face in concern, “Let the sirens decide his fate.”

He ignored the agonized cries, the clanging of metal, and the loud splash seconds later, his smile gentle as he took your disheveled appearance in, “That was some stunt you pulled earlier. You saved me getting my hands dirty,” he chuckled at your expression, the scene reminiscent of the time he found the three of you in the street in the middle of shopping. 

Mingi could be heard in the background giving an approval to someone down below, and seconds later, gargled screams invaded the comfortable silence. You flashed him a small smile, fingers instinctively reaching up to give him a mock salute, “Still getting rid of rats for you, your majesty.”

An affectionate twinkle danced in his eyes as he shook his head in amusement, a hand reaching to ruffle your wet locks, “Always a loyal soldier to my kingdom, I see,” his charcoal hues flickered to Wooyoung, a sheepish expression taking over his visage, “Now I need your help getting my words through, if you don’t mind.”

You nodded, breathless as you quickly signed Hongjoong’s words to the lavender haired male, shock washing the latter’s features at the King’s words, “I hope you find it in yourself to one day forgive me, although I know I do not deserve as much for everything I have put you through,” his hands reached up to remove the coat he wore, before he presented it to the stunned male, “I believe this belongs to you, Wooyoung.”

Trembled hands slowly gripped the golden coat, his eyes peering over at San and yourself for approval. San nodded, brows knitted anxiously as he hesitantly nodded. Wooyoung tugged it on, glancing down to examine the shiny, golden material. Head snapping up, Wooyoung had only a millisecond to gauge your reaction, before the King’s hands forcefully shoved him over the railing of the tall ship, your gasp merging with San’s yelp of shock.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

Your hands clutched the railing, eyes searching the blue waters for any sign of your friend. Yeosang and Seonghwa peered at you from the other side in confusion when you propped a leg up onto the metal, preparing to dive in, when a laugh echoed in your ear, arms tugging you back, “Calm down! He’ll show up in three, two..”

Your squirming figure halted as you stared down in bewilderment at the purple haired male staring back at you from the gentle sways of the waves. Gold pectoral fins and rays shimmered on his neck, and he looked down to study the matching fins on his forearms, jolting in surprise at the lack of legs. His head snapped to his left, where two other sirens gaped, seeming paler than they were minutes ago.

Yeosang’s eyes snapped to you, his gaze already telling you he’s going to demand answers as soon as he’s in earshot. 

San stood to your side, his eyes not leaving Wooyoung’s frame as he experimentally swam towards Yeosang and Seonghwa, both of whom hesitantly reached out to graze their clawed hands onto his tail, most likely wondering if it was real, “That’s why he was able to hear them..” you whispered softly, hands reaching up to rub at your eyes, before you cried loudly, startling the man beside you as you climbed onto the railing, arms waving madly at the three sirens, “Tell him I said he’s the prettiest siren I’ve ever seen!”

San grumbled underneath his breath, arms wrapping protectively around your waist to prevent you from falling over, “Can you try and not give me another heart attack, you bum.”

You and San returned to the tiny dinghy, your hands immediately reaching forward to touch and examine Wooyoung’s form in awe while San frantically explained everything to the impatient Yeosang. Wooyoung shot you a bashful look as you traced the gold rays and fins on his neck, before you peered closely at his now sharpened canines and iridescent, tan skin. He playfully attempted to bite your finger as you prodded his lip upwards. 

‘You look like a diamond now.’ 

Someone cleared their throat, and the three of you turned to look up at a sheepish looking Hongjoong, who clutched the ship’s rope ladder, his frame facing you. Wooyoung’s head snapped up moments later.

“I know you said you already made plans to escape the town but.. I wouldn’t mind having the best swordsman of Aurora join me and Mingi on this ship,” Two pairs of brows raised in surprise at the suggestion, your eyes snapping to meet San’s instantly. The king turned to you, his half-unbuttoned, white blouse swaying with the gentle breeze, his eyes kind and warm.

“You’re not going back to Aurora?” you asked quietly, feeling San’s fingers coiling with your own.

“No,” he mused, chuckling at the sight of Mingi’s discarded tight, golden, guard coat onto the water below, “Mingi and I made a promise when we were younger, to one day escape and put our past lives behind. I have no future in Aurora, and certainly not you three after everything you’ve pulled. Even with my word, I can’t guarantee your safety from the noblemen in the town, so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, boot tapping the wooden deck, “I am in dire need of a swordsman and a..” he paused, studying you in silence, unable to conjure up a position.

“I’ll get rid of the rats on your ship, King Hongjoong,” you said suddenly, frame rushing forward to lean over the dinghy, face scrunched in all seriousness.

His hand shielded his face as soft chuckles wracked his frame, your shoulders slumping down while even San shot you a somewhat amused look, “Of course. You can be the designated rat killer. We also need to patch up that nasty cut on your ankle.” 

Yeosang grimaced at the words, eyes hesitantly casting you a glance from where he floated.

“Wooyoung will come with us too, right?” You turned to glance at your friend, who clearly understood what was going on with the shocked and anxious expression he wore. Yeosang’s golden eyes snapped to you in an instant, a bitter frown tugging his lips down, “Wooyoung is part of our family. We can’t just leave him behind, siren or not.”

“He belongs in the ocean. He’s a siren,” quipped Yeosang, eyes darkening,”His place is in the water.”

“He’s family,” you argued back, eyes narrowing at the teal-tailed siren,”Whatever you two had going on was nice and all- but he’s still part of our family. We’re not leaving him behind. Siren or not, he’s still Wooyoung.”

“Maybe you should let him decide that.”

“Two good friends of mine in Port Hala are expecting us soon, actually. We’ll just drop by months in advance– they won’t mind, I’m sure,” Hongjoong leaned back against the hemp ladder, head tilting back and allowing the sunshine to envelop his delicate features, lips gracefully parting as he took sight of the sirens,”I think we have room for three more, as well.”

San shared a look of bewilderment with you, before looking back at the white haired male, who straightened up to quirk a brow at you, “Siren got your tongue?” Wooyoung’s eyes met your own before he gazed at Yeosang with a tearful, apologetic gaze. 

Family cannot be replaced.

An airy gasp left your lips as his clawed hands reached to grasp the dinghy, before hauling himself into the boat with San’s help. You rushed to envelop him in a tight hug, face buried against the fins on his neck, San following suit moments later. Yeosang peered silently from the water, a hard look settling on his features, jaw tight and brows knitted.

His eyes flickered to San subconsciously.

“Yes,” he whispered, nodding with a wistful expression across his visage , “I’ll protect your son.”

The women’s sad eyes flickered to Wooyoung and then back to the siren, “Please, protect all three of them. I consider them my children as well.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I’m going wherever Wooyoung is going,” Yeosang quipped defensively, “Seonghwa is coming too.”

“What-” a startled cry left the other’s lips, his bewildered eyes boring holes into Yeosang’s head, “I never agreed to this ridiculous change of plans. A human cannot ever be trusted, Yeosang. You know better than that.”

Conflict flickered in the golden hues, gaze trained onto the black haired siren, until a voice from above caught his attention,” We’ll have rules against touching anyone’s coats if that helps. Anyone who touches or takes your coats will be thrown overboard with no questions asked. I can guarantee that,” Hongjoong simpered, nodding his head confidently. 

“Are you really leaving?” Seonghwa gritted to Yeosang, the latter nodding his head in affirmation, “You stubborn bastard.”

“You finally have the opportunity to travel to all seven seas, and you’re going to throw it away just like that?” Yeosang quirked a brow, a knowing smile suddenly finding itself on his features as Seonghwa gives him an unimpressed look, “Besides, he’s certainly earned my trust after everything that’s happened.”

“Don’t use that against me.”

“You’ve wanted to since you were young. Guess I’ll just go live your dream then,” he shrugged absentmindedly, turning to flash Wooyoung a smile, “I’ll send you a seashell as-”

“Shut up already,” Seonghwa ran a hand through his dark locks, suddenly snapping his attention to the other humans, “If I ever find you trying to steal my coat, I’ll slice you and use your flesh as fish bait.”

San paled at the threat, and Hongjoong barked out a laugh, “You heard him, crew. Now, I suggest you all to come on board before the noblemen send an armada after us for not returning back to town.”

He blinked at the gaping, fearful expressions.

“That’s an order!”

You startled at the sudden volume, hand scrambling up to salute, San peering over at you in utter confusion, not knowing whether he should bow or salute, awkwardly doing both simultaneously.

“Yes, King Hongjoong!”

A streak of gold whizzed over your head, and at the sound of a splash behind you, your head snapped in surprise at the crownless man, a smirk displayed on his sharp features, “That’s Captain Hongjoong to you.”

[shyrose57]

Oooo maybe some real life plants! but they are .. off somehow, I think that the end should mostly keep its dull very color drained vibes so the colorful things just seem more. So the greens are so gray you could barely call it green, and for subsitute water? Maybe liquid magic. Becasue this place has to run off of magic, they are floating over a void...

SPACE WHALES! Flying Rays, JellyFish! A lot of deep sea horrors fit very nicely into space horrors (and wonders bc I'll cry if the whales are mean :( ) and would do nicely to fill the endless stretches of just void with no land in sight. and Anglerfish... maybe not a fish, or floating in the void like the others but something land bound that uses a hypnotic lure? It lures you in with the feeling of safety and home. There is a reason that the abandoned cities where off the ground :)

Anyways floating over a void, the end (in my head canon) is the source of all magics in Mc (all the planes are connected and it diffuses into the other dimensions, but it is SATURATED in everything in the end, the dragon is pure magic, a manifestation of the end itself, so a lot of things there are magic or sustain themselves on magic (things that stay there (live over generations n stuff our group is fine) get warped by it which could be how over world plants got in there and established themselves, they would not survive in the over world any longer, the sun would kill them, their roots would thirst to death on water. they have magical properties, some of them glow. ) Though there are a lot of End Native plants too (the trees that are only trees when you stretch the definition, that thing that Moves, and has what you could only call teeth but it is not an animal, so it must be a plant) Oooooo maybe the warped fungus ;) I mean everything in the nether is terrified of it, so maybe it doesnt really belong there, and hitched a ride on fleeing endermen

A lot of things glow, (its how we have those stars in the end, they are creatures off in the distance, and whenever the wastelands that stretch on for miles give way to not-trees or shrub-lands, something is gonna glow, which gives the areas eerie shadows that make the wide vulnerable wastelands they came from seem safer than whatever is found in there. The magic running in the rivers sometimes spill out into the abyss and dissipates to start the cycle anew. Things lurk everywhere and kind things are few and far between. The End is full of Life, and That Is Horrifying

Endermen are nomadic and travel in haunts (Im taking this from Human Error :D), and are generally friendly until you look into their eyes (Eyes are windows to the soul, how can they bear to look at you? You are so bright, so Warm. It Sears their eyes, It Burns their very being. Stop looking, It Hurts. Stop Stop Stop-) They are willing to trade and talk Enchanting (So All 3 Dimensions have a Sentient Race :DD) and are very magically inclinded. A lot of mages are endermen or have ender blood in them. The end is very deadly, and Haunts keep eachother alive because their death could mean death of the group (they are very close knit and that leads to very protective (what Im saying is when Tubbo gets back his Husband is going to smother him and fret over one of the 3 members of his Haunt (Tubbo, Michael, and Tommy :) )) when One finds themself without a haunt, many try and find safety in the other dimensions as they will not survive alone in the end.

( I Have more ideas, but the more I think the more I make more and I already think im dumping a lot, so sorry if I wrote too much. I tried to break up the text wall to to make it easier)

Oh, that's a good idea! Mainly dull colors-especially for the more dangerous plants, they'd need to blend in to catch their food. I feel like there'd be some more colorful ones though-the chorus fruits are pretty saturated, after all. Maybe purple colors are brighter, and others are more dull? Or no?

So many space creatures, oh gosh. There'd be very few grounded ones, with so much of the End being void, so sea-based creatures are definitely a good call. That'd be so pretty too?? And we've gotta blur the line between space wonder and eldritch horror for at least a few of them, of course!

The jelly fish are absolutely huge! Massive and glowing through transparent skin, they mainly hang out far from the islands, being mistaken as stars, and their tendrils glow so faintly you can only see them up close. From a distance, they're beautiful, but up close they're terrifying.

Flying rays the size of horses that can be used to cross the void between islands like striders for lava?? Flying rays that's tips fade into an abyssal black so deep it looks they merge into the void? Flying rays with a possible relation to phantoms? Seeking out the sleepless, but only watching, merely drawn to lure them to sleep with the mesmerizing patterns that run along their bodies.

Space whales!!!! Titans so ancient and old, parts of their bodies are overgrown by End islands and forest, making them for all purposes, living, breathing islands. Magic so deeply tied to them that even when they pass, they remain afloat, creating graveyards of still islands, that even still seem to breath when stepped upon. Gentle giants in that they are untouched by anything, and so curious of the new wonders the void welcomes.

A thing that stalks the islands it inhabits, singing out a call that seems ripple across the starry expanse-it sounds like love and warmth and understanding, and it says i love you, the universe loves you, in the same way the poem must rung in your ears, must nestle under your ribs. Love, love, love, it croons. Except then you get too close, and it catches you, and the sound is empty and hollow, and it's grip is tight, and nothing leaves it's arms or island alive, drained of life and magic.

Safety is only in that it is bound to the land, and no creature dares approach it, instinctively knowing of the danger. The islands that even the stars avoid...

Magic dragon?? Yes! Manifestation of the End?? That means it must somehow know how to take the appearance of one. Maybe smaller little space dragons, that play among the bones of the long-gone giant ones. The Ender Dragon isn't as large as they might've been, but it mimics the appearance as best it can-I wonder why. How long has it had that egg, again? How long has it waited for it to hatch?

So we can totally have some of the minecraft plants end-ified! Ooh, and since some adventurers probably brought them there to maybe try surviving in the End, there'd be things like crops and weeds and grass, long mutated as they grow along the ruins of what might've been a home once. E N D M O S S. It glow.

Warped fungus!! But more! Because this one wouldn't have ever been to the Nether, never mutated in such a way. It's home, but somehow, it still feels so very alien to those that look upon it. Maybe no orange?? Orange is Nether-color. Darker blue, or more purple-ish, possibly.

Everything is luminescent. The things that aren't are much more dangerous than the things at are, don't stare into the dark for too long-it might start looking back, and trust me, you don't want that :).

The Endermen Know they are not supposed to be here, even if the newcomers do not Stare with all of the heat and warmth and burn. One may bear the Wings, and two may speak their language, but they are too soft, and colorful, and bright, but not glowing. They are Outsiders, and Outsiders must go home.

Because nothing good comes from those that stay-how do you think that thing knows the universe's lullaby?

They ally with the four, if only to save themselves, but the Outsiders grow on them. Maybe they will visit, but the Outsiders must stay out.

(Ranboo does not let his Haunting out of his sight for awhile. Tommy and Michael too yes, but mainly Tubbo and Phil. They could have strayed too far, they could have not come back. He doesn't Know in the same way the others do, but even he is aware of what he could lose, and what could become)

(Tell me A L L of them, I beg of you)

[chidoroki]

Norman - 22194

March 21st is here and it’s time for yet another birthday post. I already rambled on about Emma and Ray on their special days, so now it’s finally time to complete this full-score tradition with Norman. It might not be as detailed or long as the other two, since he was absent for a good chunk of the story, but it doesn’t make him any less important! I’ll be honest now, the boy isn’t my favorite character (he doesn’t place anywhere in my top ten for this series either) so I probably missed some moments worth mentioning but I did my best to praise this child anyway!

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland, so if you haven’t read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I’m once again going from start to finish with this.)

Since I want to stay consistent with the other two posts, this will focus on the manga timeline, as season 2 is, well.. it’s own thing. I’ll mention some things but don’t count on much. With that, let’s go.

- He achieves a perfect score on Grace Field’s daily tests, alongside Emma and Ray.

- He is, without a doubt, the smartest kid the house has ever seen, as he passes each test flawlessly and has maintained a 300 average.

- He’s a complete strategist who is capable of achieving victory (even in something simple as tag) by observing his opponents moves and analyzing their weaknesses in order to counter.

- Knows how to pick locks. The scene from ch1 was left out but we see him doing so later on in ep02.

- Stays relatively positive and calm after learning about the truth of the farm.

- Even going as far as giving Emma a reassuring smile, which I think is impressive given the literal nightmare fuel they’ve just witnessed. 

- I’m giving him half credit for suggesting the idea of there being tracking devices, since anime has him reveal this possibility while in manga it’s Emma.

- Both of them realize what determines the shipping order and that the demons favor their brains.

- This silly panel that I love dearly.

- Made sure to do a sweep of the entire house beforehand to make sure their escape planning doesn’t get pick up on.

- Figures out that Isabella only knows the children’s locations when she checks the tracker and that it can’t identify who is who.

- Has the nerve to lie right to Isabella’s face.. not that she believes it, but still gutsy nonetheless.

- Knowing the house probably wouldn’t have any rope, it was his idea to use the spare tablecloths.

- Had a feeling that Ray would reveal the harsh reality of how dangerous it would be to escape with all the children, which turns out to be correct.

- His laugh in ep02 is so precious.

- This statement being 100% accurate.

- Manages to convince the logical Ray, who we know now has spent many years coming up with a solid, safer escape plan, to join in and assist with their crazy and reckless plan instead. Having Ray on their side also grants them many advantages.

- Absolutely hates to lose, which is a good mentality to have in a world where your life is a stake and your time is limited, which eventually leads him to consider every possible opportunity to stay ahead of his enemies throughout the remainder of the story.

- Realizes that the trackers must only send out a signal upon being broken, which we found out to be true in Ray’s one-shot chapter.

- - Him looking completely terrified in this panel.

- He managed to catch all the Grace Field kids in a game of tag even after they received advice from Ray about how to survive longer.

- The goddamn intimidating energy he gives off here is fantastic.

- Despite his body being physically weak, he manages to survive and win against Krone during their game of tag.

- Just like Ray some couple chapters ago, Norman is completely serious about this idea.

- Suspects there’s a traitor among the kids and swiftly comes up with a plan to lure them out.

- This panel of him “dead” from the first side story.

- He has a feeling the spy is Ray, so he moves up the day of the escape to catch him off guard and send him into a panic.

- Even though the anime didn’t include it, he managed to throw off Krone as well with some fake footprints to keep her off their backs.

- Was honestly considering on leaving the spy behind while the rest of them escaped, though he doesn’t seem real happy about the idea, considering the traitor is Ray.

- His plan on fishing out the spy was flawless as he finally calls Ray out by revealing that the information he gave about the ropes and where he hid them were fake locations.

- Not only was Ray the first one Norman suspected, but he caught onto him way back when Krone first came to the house. All the information Ray was feeding them helped Norman come to this conclusion as well.

- Along with Emma’s words about believing that no one in their family is truly bad, Norman refrains from cutting Ray off to allow him to become their trump card. This was a risky move itself, knowing Ray could sell both him & Emma out at any time. Norman tends to prioritize victory, so while staying alive is absolutely necessary and that could’ve been achieved without Ray (as he could’ve just used Ray then ditch him later), he still decides to make the offer as realizes that in order defeat Isabella, Ray’s full cooperation is essential.

- Realizes that it was Ray who hid Little Bunny in the first place and lead Norman and Emma to investigate the gate that night, which leads him to believe that Ray isn’t really an enemy.

- He’s also left handed. Yes, that’s important. Not only for later in the story but because we’re superior. I’m sorry y’all had to find out this way. 

- This stupid, little face he makes.

- Suspects that Ray doesn’t actually plan on escaping at all and intends to kill himself.

- Just like Emma and Ray, Norman also recognizes and understands morse code.

- Look at this precious child, not even angry after getting punched and knocked over. (because i certainly would be)

- Finds Ray’s hidden supply of oil which confirms the method for his future suicide. This also helps Norman later on when he comes up with a refined escape plan by using the fire Ray plans to start.

- Figures out Krone’s true intention about why she wants to join forces with the kids in the first place. 

- He ends up accepting Krone’s offer anyway, because despite the large risk, any information that can snag out of her would benefit them.

- You mad lad, look at you, taunting the bringer of death yet again while a smile on your face.

- And he still manages to find some strength to smile while upon death’s door.

- Not for long though, as once he’s given the chance to be alone, he finally breaks down. Having the cup overflow with water really helps demonstrate how impactful the thought of dying hit him as Norman was overcome with so many emotions that he didn’t even have the strength to hold onto the cup or his facade. It’s then he starts to feel scared and sorry for himself but away from Emma and Ray’s eyes as to not worry them.

- His entire internal monologue as he comes to terms with his unfortunate situation and flips back to his determined “I can’t lose” attitude to help everyone else escape. Also, his theme ‘22194’ hits especially hard.

- For someone with weak, physical abilities, he manages to climb the wall on his own.

- Though the cliff stopped his escape, he used that opportunity to survey the surrounding area of the entire farm to rely his findings to the duo and provide them a safer escape route.

- Completely adamant about his decision to accept his shipment in order to give the rest of his family a chance to escape. (hell, id’ be terrified right now)

- This hug that is sure to break everyone’s hearts.

- Quick to react to Emma’s last ditch effort and prevented her from slamming her already busted up leg into the ground.

- Not only did he predict that Ray would start a fire to distract Isabella and on which day, he also left behind the pen and key he received from Krone along with a new, detailed plan (which he managed to come up with in only a few hours by the way) that would allow the kids to cross over the cliff.

(post season one spoilers below. again, focusing on the manga timeline, so any new season 2 events will be mentioned sparingly.)

- Like Ray, Norman was able to figure out how the pen worked well enough to see Minerva’s message regarding B06-32.

- Since he doesn’t show up again for quite some time post-escape, there isn’t much to talk about.. but at least I can make fun of him thanks to extra pages, like how he wouldn’t have enough strength to use a bow.

- But hey, props to s2ep10 for actually giving us Norman shooting an arrow. He was pretty decent with it too, as he hit his target on the first try behind a darn smokescreen. The manga did show him holding a bow in ch161, but that’s it.

- Not relevant to the actual story at all, but his smarts certainly make anything possible.

- I’m sorry but these tiny failures of his bring me great joy.

- Though the tests at Lambda are harder than those at Grace Field, Norman still managed to get every question correct. Every single day he was there. Even when the facility manages to increase the difficulty of the tests, he continues to pass each one with flying colors.

- Since he noticed someone who’s right handed also takes the same tests he does, he makes an attempt to communicate with them via a Rubik’s cube. He waits patiently for five months until he finally gets a response from Vincent around Christmas 2046. 

- Dealt with the experiments/drugs that were forced onto him and the seizures that resulted from them.

- Even with the tight security and surveillance, he somehow acquired explosives and successfully blow up Lambda and escapes with the survivors.

- Again, not significant to the story, but seriously dude? You just fainted and yet you still get this crazy question right effortlessly?

(post time-skip)

- Contacts Lucas moments before the B06-32 shelter gets blown up and gives him the numeric code that eventually leads Emma’s group to the “Jaw of Lion.”

- Destroyed numerous mass production farms since his escape from Lambda.

- As well as save countless children from other farms and used the Paradise shelter found by Smee’s network to give them a sense of safety and taste of a normal life.

- The darn glow-up he receives, like sweet lord child, are you sure you’re still 13??

- - His cute, squishy cheeks though!

- He may look like he’s in his thirties, but still has the strength of a child. (see anime? this is how strong ray’s slap should have been!)

- Learned a great deal of demon history and gave that lengthy lesson about the demon’s genetics and how they inherit the characteristics of whatever they eat and evolve accordingly. 

- With Emma’s wish about saving everyone and lively happily still on his mind, he thought of a safe and certain method in order to create such a future for all the children raised as food.. which ends up being complete extermination of all the demons caused by a civil war. His plan also includes ending the Ratri clan as well. How cheerful.

- Are you surprised to learn that Norman getting tackled by the younger kids is my favorite panel of him?

- You weak, little bean, I’m sorry I enjoy making fun of you so much.

- Successfully forms an alliance with Lord Geelan and his clan by offering revenge on the royal family, the five regent houses, as well as the Ratri clan, thus putting Geelan in full control. In return, it would grant Norman the full release of farm children, permission to self-govern and some much needed power in terms of demon strength.

- He knows full well that the entire alliance is a lie and both parties are only using each other, though in works in his favor, as it will send the demons to destroy each other without the lose of any human lives.

- This absolute powerful panel that the anime decided “nah, we’re gonna change this too” because they’re cowards.

- Narrowed down possible locations on where to find Sonju and Mujika. Sure it was with the intention of killing our demon friends but his map was accurate.

- Survived who knows long with his seizures at level 4, and because of his severe condition, he’s completely set on following through his plan and succeeding before his time runs out.

- Seems to enjoy blowing stuff up, such as the imperial city’s bridges to send the place into a panic and trap all the citizens.

- Advised the Lambda crew on how to effectively fight against the queen by attacking relentlessly.

- Let loose a poison that causes not only normal demons to degenerate, but the royal family as well, such as the five regent heads and the queen who’s name is too long and complicated for me to ever remember, who all have the cursed blood. (at least that’s how effective it was in manga, in anime it did absolutely nothing to vylk)

- He somehow managed to learn, speak and understand the demon language, which, according to Shirai (vol16 author notes), is actually an uncommon language nowadays. (and we’ll unfortunately never know how this language actually sounds, thank anime..)

- Do I even praise him for killing a demon and well.. all this? Sure in the anime he tried killing Vylk, but old demon was fair more innocent compared to the royal family, so I have no idea.

- I will give season 2 some credit and say I prefer their take on the “right now you look like a small child, shaking with fear” panel.

- But not too much credit, as they didn’t give us the full trio hug as the manga did!

- Then again the anime did have him about to apologize to Vylk and Demon Emma for his actions, which is something, I suppose? since in ch154 he says he didn’t regret killing the queen and royals, which I guess is justified because they were the bigger problem, but oh well.

- Might have apologized to Ayshe for killing her father? Can’t be sure but that’s the unanimous consensus in the fandom right?

- Instantly comes up with counter moves and directions for the entire group upon hearing the enemies locations from Vincent during the GF raid.

- I honestly can’t look at this panel anymore and not laugh about it.. because reasons.

- He just keeps on winning. (also he looks real good here, i’ll give him that.)

- He and everyone else are skeptical about there being no “reward,” and for rightfully so.

- Upon learning that Emma is missing after everyone crossed over to the human world, they all adopt her optimistic attitude and swear to find her no matter where she might be.

- After a stressful two year search, the kids finally find Emma and Norman is so overcome with emotion that he busts out into tears of joy, despite finding out that she lost her memories due to the reward. All that matters to him is that Emma was safe and happy and he accepts her just the way she is.

And I guess.. that’s it. I’m sorry again, I know this is truly the weakest post out of the trio and I have no doubt I glanced over a whole bunch of great moments but it still had to be done! Making fun of him probably wasn’t the best thing to do on his special day either, but I assure you this child is very powerful. Who else do you know that is capable of sending an entire fandom into a panic and rage furiously by just simply showing up?

Ah ha okay, now I’m done. In all seriousness though, this lad is great and through everything he has endured, he definitely deserves to be celebrated today, so happy birthday to our boy Norman!

[therosefrontier]

Whumptober Day 5

No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER

betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

+++

Genshin Impact | Zhongli and his memories

(crossposted to AO3)

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“I met with Azhdaha again yesterday.”

Zhongli started his story while seated on an old stone platform in Guili Plains, a low crumbling stone wall behind him, an ancient tablet the only company by his side. “Virtue grows tall like a tree, though there be shade it will flourish forever,” the dome-shaped tablet read. At times like these, he often wondered at what all the author of those words had in mind when she wrote that.

“I…assumed this would happen, one day. Elemental spirits are nigh immortal beings, and it would be foolishness to assume that a sealed spirit won’t some day find their way out.” Zhongli paused for a moment, his words feeling heavy on his tongue, as if someone really were here that he had to explain this too. “He…left, of his own accord,” he finally said. “His spirit is once again sealed in the mountain. Although, we may very well meet again. I simply might dare to hope that next time, it would be under better circumstances.”

“My life is nigh on eternal. I will go on with the infinite flow of time. And you, Morax... You too will live for many a day to come.”

But Azhdaha would never again be free. This…this was their contract.

Zhongli looked down at his hands and at the ground, the events of many centuries earlier being all too clear in his mind. The events of yesterday were but a brief addendum to what already happened. Azhdaha’s roar of rage and pain, his accusations of treachery, the underlying grim reality of knowing that all of Liyue could be in danger if he didn’t end this here and now…all of that happened, already. Yesterday, Azhdaha was divided, his rage and his benevolence split into two beings. The first time they fought, the benevolent and wise Azhdaha that he once knew was nowhere to be found.

“I never thought I’d be able to speak with him again, like he was. Well, it wasn’t his form necessarily: his consciousness had possessed a random human, but still, once his memories were regained, the words and the voice were most certainly his.” Zhongli smiled weakly. “I must admit, that despite the inherent peril of the situation leading up to this meeting, I was glad. To see him, that is. It…was as if he were still alive.”

 “Rex Lapis, we are at your command,” Moon Carver assured him with great gravity, he and Mountain Shaper and the other watching the approach of the rampaging earth dragon with a steeled gaze, ready to fight.

Rex Lapis hesitated only for a moment. Only for a moment did he allow his heart to twist in pain, did he allow his eyes to lose their vivacity as he looked down from the sky at the dragon who cursed his name through his own unfathomable anguish. There was no solution, he knew. Erosion was something that could not be reversed. But he didn’t want to believe it. Not for Azhdaha. He didn’t want to lose him, too.

“We will lure him into the cave underneath the mountain. Follow my lead.”

 Zhongli found Azhdaha as a spirit sealed deep in the earth, a simple but unique rock without sight or motion. His stirrings had been the cause of many earthquakes and tremblings, so Zhongli thought it fit to draw the spirit of stone up from the earth and grant his wish, to give him a chance to be free in the world outside. They made a contract, then. Zhongli always made a contract, with those he invited to join him. There was only one for him for which such an agreement was delayed…only because at first, he did not know what their partnership was even to be called. It was one of many ways that Guizhong confused him.

But for the great stone dragon, their agreement was clear. If Azhdaha ever endangered Liyue and brought ruin to order, he would once again be sealed in the dark.

Zhongli always kept true to his contracts.

 “Come, I wish to show you something,” Morax beckoned him with a slight smile, bringing his friend up to a ledge overlooking the waters, the sun setting over the mountains in the distance and washing the sky with color.

“What is this?” Azhdaha asked in a deep and booming voice, although its powerful aura was perhaps mitigated by the way he spoke with the curiosity of a child. “I have seen this water before; now it is different?”

Morax chuckled softly. “Take a moment and have a look.”

Azhdaha came up over the ledge with thundering steps. “Your sun looks different. The color has changed. Is it nearing death?”

“No, no, not at all,” Morax explained with a slight touch of amusement. “This is a sunset. The sun will soon disappear over the mountains. You asked last night why the light leaves the sky in such a way. So, I thought I’d bring you here to watch. Of course, the motion of the sun can be observed anywhere, but it carries a different effect, in some locations. The sun will change its color now, but after it disappears, it will come back the next day just as it was before.”

Azhdaha hummed in acknowledgement, then plopping down onto the grass with a shaking of the earth. “So now, we sit and watch?”

“Yes, I say we shall.”

 “Morax, how do I look? Unimposing? Like a true human?”

“You look very well,” Morax agreed with a smile. It was in an elemental spirit’s nature to be able to change shape and form, but this was Azhdaha’s first time doing it on his own. His human form wasn’t exactly all that ‘unimposing,’ being that of a man quite large and broad-shouldered, but he looked enough like a human, at least.

“Mm, that is acceptable.” Azhdaha put his newfound fists on his hips and looked down at the Guili Assembly plaza down below. “It is time to interweave myself with humankind. I wish to first try the foods that people keep telling me about. I do not see the appeal of this ‘Grilled Ticker Fish’ that Pervases speaks of, as it is merely a single fish, but I wish to obtain this first, so that I may give him my full opinion!”

“Sounds like a suitable plan,” Morax agreed with a nod. “Then, let’s not keep our human and adepti friends waiting.”

 Zhongli remembered his form then, strong with a youthful wonder that wizened into ancient wisdom over the passage of time. It was so startingly unlike the form half of him took yesterday, of a child with a bitter glare in her eyes.

“So here lies the wisdom of the gods? Destroy all deemed redundant, enlist tyrants to ravage the wilderness!” Jiu mocked in her (his) fury.

Zhongli had a contract to keep. He had to seal Azhdaha away. There was no choice.

“Is once not enough!? You would forsake me again!?”

It wasn’t what he wanted. But was there…really nothing he could have done? If he had stopped the humans from mining in the Chasm, if he had noticed the change in Azhdaha, if he had just taken the time out of his duties to pay him a visit, then maybe…

“Erosion ground Azhdaha’s consciousness into oblivion. Slowly, he forgot the face of his old friend, and his memories of defending Liyue Harbor disintegrated,” Azhdaha in Kun Jun’s vessel recounted his own story with a faint smile of regret.

Zhongli couldn’t stop erosion.

And yet…he mourned what came to pass.

Zhongli had known, for a very long time, that he would never again be able to mourn as a mortal would. Azhdaha was far from the only one he has lost to time and conflict. The name he called him, “Morax,” was a stark reminder of this, that name which he had walked away from a long time ago but never truly shed. Morax was a god of war, a slayer of thousands. Morax had for a long, long time grown used to the bloodshed that was Liyue’s reality, as god fought against god in the Archon War and sacrificed hoards of soldiers as pawns. Morax felt no disgust or horror when he walked through a battlefield after the fight was over, stepping over bodies and walking through pools of blood and entrails as he coldly assessed the damage done.

In some ways, Rex Lapis was no different. For that matter, neither was Zhongli. Although his thoughts on war had changed—he would avoid it through the employment of contracts and words, if at all possible—he could never feel the same revulsion towards death and bloodshed as a human would.

Rex Lapis saw many scores of yaksha and other adepti swear fealty to him over the millennia. They would give him their loyalty, and he would make a contract with them, and he would know, because of how many times it had happened already, that they might give their lives in his service. They might fall to the evil that plagues the land in battle, or they may be consumed by the very filth they faithfully eradicated. Rex Lapis did not consider their deaths to be meaningless, nor did he ever wish to sacrifice his subjects as a pawn of war, but…he might have accepted, at some point long ago, that such deaths were inevitable and necessary.

He could not mourn as a human would—or rather, as a human without authority might. A war god had to know, lest he be blind, that he was sending his people to possible death.

He bore that weight, and he accepted that responsibility.

But in that responsibility…what did that mean for Azhdaha? Whose soul was crushed not by the many battles they fought together, but by the erosion of the earth itself?

He was sealed forever by Zhongli’s own hands. That was their contract. That was justice.

He always kept his contracts. No matter the price, no matter what he had to do…even if it was a pact paid in blood with Celestia, he did what he must for the sake of Liyue…

But was it true? Did Zhongli, in that near-final meeting, betray Azhdaha?

“I did what I must,” he spoke again to the stone tablet, cold and motionless despite the warm words inscribed upon it. “Virtue grows tall like a tree, though there be shade it will flourish forever.” But how did one define what “virtue” meant? How much of this “shade” was acceptable? This increasing debt, made in blood…

“His anger, however, does seem justified, in a certain way.”

“Guizhong?” He looked up, a small drop forming in his near-human eyes. “Did I do the right thing?”

[starcrossedyanderes]

A Yandere Among Us (Rygel ft. Mr. Mittens)

Is the Among Us trend over yet? No? Okay. Anyway Rygel is definitely the yandere in this and Mr. Mittens is just making a cameo guest star appearance.

Why is it when it is raining cats and dogs things don’t get cancelled meanwhile if a single flake of snow is seen everything comes to a screeching halt? This situation was slightly different you supposed but the point still stands.

Despite security warnings about pirates and invaders here you were with a bunch of other teenagers on a spaceship by yourselves. 

Most of you were making the Summer commute over to the colony on Europa as part of the colonization program for juveniles. A large portion of you actually had family on the colony long time and as an experiment on juveniles you would all spend Summer there. Or so it was planned. But fate obviously had different plans for you.

~|~

“Green’s dead and you guys are bickering if someone can even fit in a vent!?”

You spoke up this time.

“I just find it somewhat hard to believe that a person can fit in one of those small vents!”

Yellow narrowed his eyes a blue, the one who asked about the bickering. 

“I don’t know blue, you are acting kind of sus right now.”

Blue gained an appalled look from what you could all tell from the helmet.

“What does sus even mean!? Why would I kill Green when I am his BEST FRIEND?!”

Green leaned back a bit in his chair before stating in an overly calm voice,

“Alright if you say so man but just to make sure let’s put it up to a vote.”

You let out a sigh as you sat next to one of the people you actually slightly knew, purple or as you knew him, Rygel. You were already 2 deaths in and 1 person has been thrown out of the ship. In other words it was pure chaos. You merely pressed the skip button and watched hopelessly as blue was eventually put to pasture.

~|~

Murder #3; Green

Unlike the other murders this one seemed to involve a knife based off the puncture wounds. Meaning that anyone could have done it. And with only 5 people left it was harder to point fingers and have more conclusive evidence. So people did what they usually did and winged it.

Cyan made accusations this time. 

“Okay so since this is becoming way too much like a horror movie lets act as if it is a horror movie. Since this is a case of an imposter sort of situation that means this is more of a twist villain sort of movie. Now twist villains tend to be the most plain and average characters. Not to hot, not the poor ugly person, and their personality seems to generally be ‘nice’. Now based off of that I think the person who fits that category the best would be pink- er, I mean (Y/n).”

You let out a gasp at the audacity of such a statement with such a lack of evidence. And did he just call you the most average!?

“What do you mean it was me? You have no evidence in the slightest!”

Cyan turned to you with a sneer.

“And do you have any evidence that you weren’t the culprit? If not then you how can we know you didn’t do it with such a lack of evidence?”

It was during this stalemate an imposing figure decided to speak up.

“Cyan, enough.”

The words of her crush speaking immediately shut her up.

“If you are wanting evidence (Y/n) and I were in reactor together. Also, last I checked, Cyan you are by far the most basic person I have ever met. Now I personally find it suspicious for you to start accusing a person out of nowhere like that as if you were trying to cover up something you did, hmm?”

Cyan was left gapping like a fish as she was sent out.

~|~

Seeing the telltale purple suit you quickened your pace to meet your friends long strides.  “Hey Rygel, thanks a lot for helping me back there. If it wasn’t for you I would probably have taken cyan’s place.”

Rygel simply nodded his head.

“Of course. I couldn’t just have an innocent acquaintance of mine thrown under the rug for something so idiotic.”

You rubbed the back of your neck as best as you could.

“Yeah, I’m just worried that I may be next. Our numbers are getting smaller after all.”

Rygel decided in your moment of panic to remove his helmet to free his long purple locks and grace you with his gorgeous mocha skin.

“If it helps remember that there’s 3 of us remaining. If you are that worried about you being the next on the chopping block you’re more than welcome to stay in my quarters for now.”

A small blush appeared on your skin.

“Oh, now I don’t know about that-”

Rygel merely shrugged as he turned away.

“If you say so. Just know, the offer will still exist.”

~|~

You hated walking down hallways by yourself. Even more so during these times. Also when it’s dark, and quiet, and also there may be a serial killer after you-

Okay (Y/n). You’re just trying to psych yourself out.

As much as you hated it sometimes you get abhorrently thirsty in the middle of the night. 

So here you were in a dimly lit hall, by yourself, in your pajamas, and still rather sleepy.

Where could this ever go wrong?

Yet a death was not what you were face with in the dim light.

Against the stark black of the floor and in the rather low mood lightning you saw a stark flash of white. 

Okay, make that multiple.

Upon closer inspection they looked like little paw prints. 

And they all lead in the same direction.

Now on the ship no animals or pets were allowed for various safety reasons. So why in the world would there be white footprints?

Of course like the stupid person you were you followed the flour path (as you had now determined it to be) down various hallways.

It was met you that you were more so expecting.

In electrical you were met with the dead body of yellow along with the end of the flour pawprints.

A scream was strangled out of your lips as your eyes also landed on the very much alive 2 bodies of black and purple, or as you know him, Rygel.

And both of them were absolutely covered in blood.

“Wha-how? Why? WHO?”

The two of them turned slowly to look at you. Rygel’s eyes widened before a pained sigh left him.

“Oops. Mittens, was it? Your services seem to no longer be needed.”

“Mittens?! What is going on!?”

Rygel rolled his eyes.

“Well, as you can see, yellow is dead.”

“ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh-”

Rygel merely strolled over to your side as he started to chuckle.

“My apologies, moonlight. I suppose you should get a bit of an explanation before you get fully relocated.”

“What the heck are you even talking ab-”

Rygel made a single swipe of his hand and your lips were immediately shut close. They wouldn’t open.

“This ship is being used to transport me to, and well us now I suppose, my home planet. My chauffeur here has been killing off your crewmates to ensure our safe and successful travels. If they were still present we would have been forced to stop at Europa.”

His long arms wrapped around your shoulders as black started to shake vigorously.

“It’s just much easier and quicker this way isn’t it?”

As you squirmed against his grip black’s shaking suddenly stopped and his clothing dropped into a pile.

Did he dissapear?

Then the pile started to wiggle until a two colored small head popped out.

Black seemed to have become a cat..

Wait.. Mittens..

Oh.

“Mittens here caused those footprints you saw as he used them to lure your peers. As you can see he is a shape shifter. This is also the answer to your question of how someone could ever fit into a vent. Now come dear, it’s gotten late and I desire to retire for the night.”

Rygel was saddened that you stood stock still.

“Moonlight, you’re my mate and shall suffer much worse. Now come before I have to leave you to sleep with yellow.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

wings & the way down - part 2

Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~1580 this chapter

Warnings: Mild angst. Allusions to ~mysterious~ backstory. Strangers with cookies. 

A/N: Thank you all for your lovely comments on the last part! Catch up here if you missed it. Tag list for this is open. 

Friday, January 3: Derek

Derek is playing it cool. 

Or... he would be, if he could stop freaking the hell out. Whatever. 

He wants to be there early, just in case, and he hesitates. He should grab his basketball — tryouts next week, he should be practicing as much as possible — but then he’d have to carry it around while they walk. He grabs his dog-eared copy of Slaughterhouse-Five instead. 

Spencer seems like a reader. Maybe he’ll be impressed. Derek doesn’t have much experience trying to impress adorably geeky college guys, but that seems like a good start. 

He looks at himself in the mirror one more time and thinks, I can’t do this. 

Then he shakes it off, like he’d shake off the nerves before a big game, and he gives his reflection a smile. What’s the worst that can happen, right? He embarrasses himself in front of a pretty boy, he avoids the park, he never sees the guy again. After the year he’s had, some good old-fashioned rejection would be a cake walk. 

Playing it cool. He can do this. 

He walks downstairs, locking up behind himself and leaving the spare key in its spot — its “hidden” spot, which is a totally obvious fake rock, but apparently here in the suburbs you can just do that sort of thing. 

He walks, enjoying the sun, because January here feels like Chicago’s April. He’s not going to get used to this any time soon. 

Yeah. This was the right choice. 

You deserve to do it on your own terms, his mom said, when she hugged him goodbye in the airport. You can be whoever you want. 

It didn’t feel like he was trying to be someone else yesterday, though. It felt like he was being himself. 

He didn’t realize it could be easy like that, flirting with a guy, teasing and laughing and making Spencer smile. The stupid line came out like it was nothing. The fear only kicked in afterward. 

Derek knows he’s charming as fuck; he’s been making girls smile like that since he was fourteen. And it’s not a skeevy thing — not even necessarily a sex thing — he just likes making people smile. He likes the way they stand a little straighter when you compliment their shirt, or the way they bring a hand to the back of their neck when you admire their hair, and the way one nice comment can startle someone right out of a bad day. 

Speaking of. 

He’s walking into the park, now, and there’s a girl walking toward him, blonde with pink streaks in her high pigtails, wearing thick neon pink glasses and several violently colorful patterns. She looks like Miss Frizzle’s ditzier sister. He kinda loves it. 

“I like your glasses,” he tells her cheerfully, as they come face-to-face on the path. 

 Most people look startled, at first, when a stranger compliments them; they’re caught off-guard. Spencer looked like a deer in headlights, yesterday, when Derek caught his attention. 

Not this girl, though. Without missing a beat, she tosses back, “I like your face, sugar.” As their paths cross, she gives him a cheesy over-the-top wink. 

He retorts over his shoulder, “I ain’t that sweet, babygirl.” 

“I don’t believe you,” she sing-songs, and he’s laughing as they both continue on their way. 

Derek makes his way over to the same spot as yesterday, a round table between two curved benches. He pulls out his book and settles down to wait. Spencer isn’t there yet (which makes sense, considering that “same time” meant “two-ish” and it’s more like one-ish right now) but there are two older men playing chess at one of the tables nearby. Otherwise, it’s quiet: two women jogging, a few families on the playground, a guy throwing a ball for his dog. 

For a while, it’s actually a pretty awesome way to spend an afternoon. He doesn’t really notice how much time has passed until he shifts, stretching some cramped muscles. Then he checks his watch. 

They didn’t really set a definite time, though. It was vague. It’s not a big deal. 

Twenty minutes is a normal amount of time to be late. Derek has pulled that move on more than one first date — which begs the question: is this a date? — but he didn’t expect Spencer to be the type, somehow.  

He starts to get anxious around half past. He can think of a dozen excuses Spencer might use, but they’re all excuses he’s used himself, and they all boil down to I don’t actually care. 

He turns back to his book and tries to forget about the time.

At three, after re-reading the same page for the fourth time, he accepts that it’s a lost cause. He sets the book down on the bench and rests his face in his palms for a moment, taking a deep breath. 

Fuck. He is so not playing it cool. 

There was something about Spencer that Derek can’t stop thinking about, and it’s not his bone structure or his eyes or the way his fingers looked as he fiddled with his chess piece. It was the way he blushed and stuttered, completely flustered and unable to hide it, and the way he brushed it off with, “I’m not used to being flirted with.” It was a genuine reaction. He was being honest. He wasn’t trying to pose or posture or do any of the things Derek would’ve done to protect himself. 

It was the little crease between his eyebrows as he studied Derek intently — too intent to be polite — like Spencer was figuring him out, looking under the surface, seeing him in a way that people usually don’t, because most people don’t care enough to look. Most people miss what’s right in front of them. 

It was the way he sat, legs crossed, unpretentious and almost childlike. 

It was different. He wasn’t hiding anything. Derek’s been hiding a lot, these last few years. It was nice to be around someone who wasn’t, and who made it look easy. 

And yeah, it was also his cheekbones and eyes and fingers and smile, because Derek is only fucking human. 

At quarter past, he starts to wonder what he did wrong. 

Yeah, I’m flirting with you. 

It was like a free-fall, the pause after the words, that frozen moment of can’t take it back now and this is going to change everything. It’s the same hot-cold-terrifying-exhilarating shock he felt in the pause after he came out to his mom — same as the moment right before the jury gave their verdict — same as the moment he walked into school the next day. 

But it was different, because Spencer smiled, all slow and shy. No betrayal, no creeping disgust, no pointed questions or even more pointed silence. 

That easy acceptance took Derek’s breath away. It felt like freedom. It felt like the moment the plane’s wheels lifted off the tarmac, the sickening lurch in his stomach, the blaze of something like defiance as he watched Chicago recede into the distance. 

Spencer smiled, and Derek felt like he could’ve ignored the laws of physics and flown away. If that was what “being out” usually feels like, he could see why people might want to do it. The moment of free-fall — this is going to change everything — was worth it, for that. 

This, though? There’s something cold and leaden sitting in his chest, dragging him rudely back down to earth. He should just go. This is an embarrassing amount of time to wait around for some random guy. 

“Tell me who I need to punch,” somebody calls. “A face like yours should never be frowning, sweetness.” 

It’s the colorful girl from earlier, and Derek can’t help but smile at the way she stomps over and sits down across from him, matter-of-fact and brazen like they’ve known each other for years. 

“I was just waiting for you, babygirl,” he tells her, turning the charm up to eleven, and she rolls her eyes. 

“Penelope. The pleasure is all yours.” She holds her hand out for him to shake — her nails have tiny daisies painted all over them — and Derek kisses it instead. 

“Derek Morgan. Charmed, I’m sure.” 

“So who’s the girl that’s got you all tragic-looking?” she asks, and rummages in her massive bag for a minute before pulling out a tupperware of cookies. “Want one? They’re still warm. I was at my friend’s house, she needed some cheering up, we baked. I promise I’m not some creepy creep who’s going to lure you into their white van, oh my god, I just realized that I’m a complete stranger, and this is totally weird! But — cookies?” 

“I’d follow you anywhere, babygirl. And I will totally take a cookie.” He takes a bite of melty chocolate chips and moans. “Marry me?” 

“Alas, your heart belongs to another,” she says solemnly. “I know that face. Spill.” 

“Got stood up, but...” Derek chews as slowly as he can manage. “Wasn’t a girl.” 

He’s starting to get used to that free-fall sensation. It’s not so bad this time around. 

“Oh my god, I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry! Men, right?” She heaves a dramatic sigh, and Derek tries to hide his own quiet sigh of relief. “The worst, I swear.” 

“No biggie. Other fish in the sea, right?” 

“Have another cookie.” 

“Woman, you are a goddess. I am so glad I met you.” 

“I’m glad you met me too, Derek Morgan.” 

.

.

part three here! 

.

[lostbbygorl]

SECOND CHANCES (LEVI X F! READER):

AU: PRIDE AND PREJUDICE BY JANE AUSTEN

~~~~

The breeze was cool. Just what Y/N L/N needed to clear her head after all the drama that had happened prior to this moment! Christa and Mr. Smith had split up, Mr. Ackerman confessed his love and desire to marry Y/N only to get rejected, and Y/N learned the truth about someone she greatly respected. Christa was in Ermich, on a much deserving holiday, whereas Y/N was in Utgard, the enemy base! But was he, Mr. Ackerman, really an enemy anymore? He had opened her eyes, and his motives may have caused damage, but Y/N would’ve done the same thing, right?

Y/N rested her head on the gazebo tree towering over her. She silently marveled at the beauty of Utgard river. The water was clear and glimmering under the sun’s golden rays. Small flowers of the brightest hues peeked from emerald bushes of fresh grass. On occasion, baby butterflies, amber and sapphire in color, would flutter by, sitting on the flowers. The smell of nature and strawberry jam had distracted Y/N from the fear of running into Mr. Ackerman for a good 1 hour. That��s right, strawberry jam!

“ Y/N, dear, you’ve hardly touched any of the food. You suggested we have a picnic. Are you devoid of an appetite?”, Y/N’s uncle, Mr. Theo Magath asked.

“ Oh no, I’ve eaten loads”

“ Have some more scones, you’ve gotten thinner since the last time we met, darling”, her aunt, Mrs. Lucy Magath joined.

Y/N quietly nibbled on a scone.

“ Y/N, is something troubling you?”, her aunt asked.

“ Not at all”, Y/N lied.

“ Don’t try that tosh with me, missy. I can see right through you. You’ve been terribly quiet this whole trip! I won’t pester you any further, but just know that your auntie is willing to listen to you, should you desire to seek me out, okay?”, her auntie soothed, to which she hummed as a response.

“ Say, Lucy, doesn’t Mr. Levi Ackerman live around here?”, Mr. Magath suddenly asked, getting Y/N’s attention.

“ He resides in Utgard castle, about 10 minutes walking distance from here, yes”, Mrs. Magath answered.

“ I hear there’s certain wings in Utgard castle that’s open for visitors. I also hear that the Ackermans have a magnificent lake absolutely brimming with salmon, and I’ve a good mind to see it”, Mr. Magath said. Y/N was uneasy. Anywhere but Utgard castle!

“ Please, can we not?”, she pleaded.

“ Why, dear? Is it because you know Mr. Ackerman? Is he a nasty man?”, her auntie implored.

“ No, it’s just that-”, she stuttered, shaking her head. He’s not so nasty, she thought.

“ It’s just that he’s so-”

“ So what?”, her uncle questioned.

“ He’s so rich”, Y/N said weakly. Her uncle and auntie frowned in confusion. What had gotten into their niece?

“ Now, Y/N. Don’t be a snob! Refusing to see Utgard castle or Mr. Ackerman because of his riches that he didn’t ask for”, Mr. Magath joked. His wife chuckled, but his niece still looked uneasy.

“ Oh, come on now, dear. I’m really eager to go! Besides, I bet a rich man like Mr. Ackerman has business in Ermich. He’s probably not home at the moment”, Mr. Magath argued. And so, the trio walked to Utgard castle. Mr. and Mrs. Magath gossiped on their way to the castle, but Y/N remained quiet, hoping with all her might that Mr. Ackerman wasn’t home.

Once she reached the castle though, a majority of Y/N’s worries vanished. The colossal building was white with dark blue painted towers. Some of the windows were made of stained glass. The trio walked towards the wing open for visitors. A short, plump, middle aged woman greeted them warmly. She had sparkling brown eyes, and white streaks in her auburn hair.

“ Welcome, visitors, to Utgard castle. I’m your host, Martha Somserset”, she beamed.

“ Utgard castle has been the home of the Ackerman family for many generations. Currently, it’s the residence of Mr. Levi Ackerman and his younger sister, Ms. Isabel Ackerman”.

The maid cheerfully guided them through the castle, showing them all the most popular sites. To say that the interior was beautiful would be a gross understatement! Red velvet curtains hung above the large windows, and the marble floors gleamed under the light of a massive crystal chandelier. Ceramic vases boasted expensive flowers, and every wall held an impressive oil painting. The paintings were of previous members of the Ackerman family. Y/N chuckled to herself, noticing that all of Levi’s ancestors had the same serious expression as he did, all except one. Only one painting had a smiling subject. The painting was of a slim, elegant, raven haired woman. Her aura was warm, and she strikingly resembled Levi.

“ Ah, admiring the late Mrs. Ackerman, are we”, Martha smiled. Y/N nodded.

“ This is Mrs. Kuchel Ackerman. She was Levi’s mother, and a breath of fresh air indeed”, Martha said fondly. Y/N found herself smiling too! Who would've thought a man like Levi had such an amiable mother?

“ Mrs. Ackerman was very close with her son. Levi was absolutely shattered when she passed. He hasn’t been the same since”, Martha explained.

“ Levi takes after his father more, but he has his mother’s golden heart. I assisted Mrs. Ackerman with Levi’s delivery, same with Isabel”, she continued.

“ Levi is a perfect gentleman. Never once has he mistreated a servant. He’s so independent, always cleaning up after himself no matter how much I tell him to leave his dirty work to me”, Martha chuckled. Y/N was absolutely shocked! Was Martha talking about a different Levi? She knew that Levi wasn’t as bad as she made him out to be, but was he really this good?

“ Anyways, enough of my blabbering! Let me show you people the statue room”, Martha interrupted Y/N’s thoughts. The young girl felt butterflies erupt in her stomach! The same sense of affection and giddiness she felt back when she read his letter returned- this time with much more force!

The statue room was a sight to see indeed! Incredibly realistic sculptures made of Parian marble filled the room. All the statues were of members of the Ackerman family, and some of them were hundreds of years old. But the statue that caught Y/N’s eyes the most was a life sized one of Levi.

“ This one is of Mr. Levi Ackerman. Isn’t he handsome?"Martha gushed.

“ Yes, I suppose he is”, Y/n replied with a fond gaze and rosy blush.

The more she wandered the castle and heard Martha’s praises of Levi, the more her affection for him grew. At one point, Y/N got lost in the castle as she had wandered off on her own. Y/N was trying to find her way back to the group when all of a sudden, beautiful piano notes started playing, stupefying her and luring her to its direction. The music was a soft, soothing melody so well played, Y/N had goosebumps. As if in a trance, Y/N walked towards its source, stopping in front of a large wooden door that was open just a crack. She peeked through the crack, noticing slender, fair fingers press on the keys of the piano. She peeked further, now seeing a full figure. The pianist was a girl with fiery red hair tied in a ponytail. She had amber eyes, and was about Sasha’s age. Her gown was a lacy ivory one. Suddenly she stopped playing and got up from her seat.

“ Levi!”, she squeaked in delight, jumping at the man, startling him.

Levi twirled her around- and smiled! Y/N had never seen him do that before! She didn’t even know he was capable of it!

“ Hello, Isabel”, he patted her back affectionately.

“ Yes, hello, brother. But first tell me who that girl is peeking at us from outside the door”, Isabel demanded. Y/N widened her eyes as she made contact with Levi. Without much thought, she sprinted to the exit of the castle. I’m not ready to see him yet, she chanted in her head as she ran. She panted outside the castle, totally out of breath. To her dismay, she heard footsteps catch up with her, and then stop behind her.

“ Ms. L/N. It’s a pleasure to see you again”, came Levi’s voice.

“ Um, yes, hello, Mr. Ackerman”, Y/N replied awkwardly.

“ Sir, please don’t be offended by my presence outside the piano room. I had no idea you and your sister would be there and Ms. Martha said this place was open for visitors-”, she began frantically.

“ I’m not bothered by it at all, ma’am”, Levi cut her off.

“ I’m just glad to see you here. And yes, some parts of the castle are open for visitors. I hope Utgard castle impressed you”, he said.

“ Oh, yes! You have a lovely home. Actually, I came with my uncle and auntie. They’ll be out in a minute”, she explained.

“ Levi, who’s this? Are you alright?”Isabel's voice interrupted them. She walked up to the duo.

“ Yes, Isabel. Isabel, meet Ms. Y/N L/N”, Levi introduced. Isabel’s eyes started twinkling, and she pleasantly shook hands with Y/N.

“ Ms. L/N, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you”, Isabel said.

“ Levi has told me so many good things about you. My, you’re just as beautiful as he had described to me”, she giggled cheekily. Both Levi and Y/N started blushing.

“ He said you’re the smartest and most interesting lady he’s ever been acquainted with. He also says you play the piano better than anyone else he knows”, she continued smirking.

“ Isabel, shut up”, Levi hissed in her ear, causing her smirk to intensify.

“ Oh my! I had no idea Mr. Levi enjoyed my terrible playing so deeply. He was joking, Ms. Isabel”, Y/N laughed, hiding her nervousness.

“ My brother doesn’t joke about such things. I insist you play with me this evening”, Isabel returned

“ Y/N, there you are!”, Mr. Magath exclaimed, running towards her.

“ We were looking all over for you”

“ Sorry, uncle, I was lost. Uncle, meet Mr. Ackerman”

“ Nice to meet you sir, please call me Levi”, Levi bowed. Y/N had never seen him this polite before. She expected him to curtly nod and be on his way. Isabel curtseyed and introduced herself before talking with Mrs. Magath.

“ A fine home you have indeed, Levi. I just saw your lake. Me and my wife are most impressed by it”, Mr. Magath complimented.

“ I’m glad you enjoyed your trip here. The lakes have recently been filled with grown salmon. Can I persuade you to go fishing with me later this afternoon?”Levi requested. Mr. Magath enthusiastically nodded.

“ Splendid. I’m inviting your whole family to Utgard castle for lunch and tea. Isabel and Y/N can play the piano, and you and I can fish with Mrs. Magath”, he said.

“ Oh, you boys go fish by yourselves. I’ll be with Ms. Martha”, Mrs. Magath said.

“ See you at 1:30 PM. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to see. Lovely chatting with you all”, Levi bowed again, lingering on Y/N before walking back to the castle, his arms linked with Isabel’s. Y/N couldn’t stop grinning even after he left. He sure had changed for the better! And this time around, Y/N didn’t force herself to see only his flaws. She was beginning to return Levi’s feelings! Levi had taken every criticism Y/N had made to heart. He vowed to improve himself. And so, even though he was awfully nervous and not used to such spontaneity at all, he made conversation with complete strangers and invited them to his home. Anything to see Y/N. Anything to spend time with her. Anything to win her over.

The afternoon wasn’t awkward at all, much to Levi and Y/N’s surprise. Levi and Mr. Magath were getting along famously, and Mrs. Magath was laughing with Ms. Martha. Isabel reminded Y/N of her younger sisters at home- and of herself! She was a bright, cheeky young girl with a fondness for music. Soon, the duo talked to each other as if they were old friends!

That night, Y/N went to bed with a smile on her face.