#Dash Games: Coral

[muraenide]

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 / 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒. *

• favorite fruit(s): peaches, white grapes, gooseberries

• favorite activity(ies): swimming, hiking, sculpting, sketching, painting

• favorite flower(s): amaranth, daffodil, snowdrop, daisies

• favorite season(s): spring, autumn and winter

• favorite insect(s): bees

• favorite animal(s): platypus

• favorite gem(s): opal

• favorite time of day: late evening when the sunsets and early dawn when it rises

Tagged by: @sweetlybite

[the-shattered-seas]

My Muse as a teenager

[sacrecean]

tag drop.  

[eurydycee]

Winter’s Thorn: chapter II amidst chivalry and rivalry

⚘ cregan stark x tyrell!OC

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Synopsis: Caught in the political machinations of Westeros, Lady Euphemia Tyrell and her brother Adlyn, Lord Tyrell, Warden of the Reach navigate treacherous alliances to secure their house's future. Summoned to King's Landing, Adlyn strikes a desperate deal with Lord Cregan Stark, unknowingly sealing Euphemia's fate. As winter approaches, House Tyrell must balance duty, loyalty, and survival in a realm fraught with danger.

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format: series (ongoing) word count: ~ 3k warnings: hint of violence, not reread a/n: hello! this is my very first fanfiction...requests and criticism are always welcome if you want to be tagged comment!! I really hope you will enjoy it as much as I have (english is not even in my top 3 languages haha). omg I did not expect any interaction I'm truly grateful ( don't be shy to comment!)

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The sun had already reached its culmination, casting a quiet hot, golden glow over the tourney grounds. Vibrant banners fluttered in the breeze each bearing a colour and sigil to represent a house. The triumphant notes of the trumpets blared through the arena, signalling the beginning of the festivities. The crowd erupted in cheers, the excitement palpable as they anticipated the day's events. The clattering of armour and the clinking of weapons only added to the din, creating a symphony of sounds that spoke of celebration and impending competition.

Knights paraded before the stands, their armour shining brilliantly, reflecting the sunlight in dazzling displays. Horses, draped in rich, embroidered caparisons, pranced and snorted, their riders guiding them with expert hands. The knights saluted their lances to the gathered nobility, drawing more cheers and applause from the enthusiastic crowd.

Children darted between the stalls, their laughter and shouts of joy echoing as they played games and admired the brightly coloured ribbons and trinkets for sale. Merchants hawking their wares, voices competing to draw attention to their exotic goods and delicious treats. Jugglers and minstrels entertained onlookers with their skills, adding to the festive atmosphere.

Amidst the celebration, Adlyn sat in his designated seat, fiddling with his cufflinks. His nerves were a storm at sea.

The sounds of the fanfare continued to swell, the music and cheers blending into a harmonious celebration of the kingdom’s unity and the start of the festivities. Yet, Euphemia was nowhere to be found.

 "Where is my sister? The games will start any moment. It isn't like her to disappear just like that.” Adlyn whisper-shouted his emotions at bursting point

"Why don't I go look for her to ease your nerves, my lord?" his guard whispered reassuringly.

“Yes but make haste” Adlyn waved him off and went back to drowning himself in his worries

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"I present thee the gallant knight of the Northern lands, Ser Cregan!" snickered Lord Mormont pushing and pulling the armour of his Lord.

"Tell me, friend, why did you choose to participate in the one battle a Northman wouldn't partake in, even when promised gold?"

"Because if this lad wishes to be the underwing of my dear Coral, he’ll need to prove his wings to be steady--to me and her. Isn’t that right, future brother of mine?" interrupted Crayn, raising his lance and poking Cregan’s side affectionately.

Out of a sudden, a voice called out Crayn, and the knight found himself enveloped in a sudden, tight embrace.

“Sister, how you’ve grown! Last I saw you, you were what, five?”

“Eight,” Coral corrected with a playful grin. “And look at you now, a dashing knight!

Coral turned to the Lord's Hand, her confusion evident. “Oh my, will you be participating too? I didn’t know you could, you know not being knighted. “Indeed, I am no true knight,” he said, emphasising the word true while simultaneously gesturing his arms at her brother”, but the King insisted on my presence today.”

“Lady Euphemia,” interjected a guard gently, “you shouldn’t be here. Let’s return to your tribune. You’ll speak after the games.”

----------

Euphemia pouted but relented. She pulled out a delicate hairpin adorned with a small gemstone and handed it to her brother. After Adjusting a stray strand of hair that had escaped her intricate braids, she said, “Here, my blessing to you, good Ser.” With a final glance, she turned and made her way back to her seat.

Euphemia entered the tribune just as her brother began his speech, his voice resonating across the crowd, welcoming the attendees and toasting in the name of Their Majesties, the King and Queen.

-------

“Lords and Ladies, honored guests, and noble knights, today is a day of immense celebration and historical significance. I stand before you, filled with the pride and honor of our great kingdom, to mark this momentous occasion.

I recall vividly the day when we all emerged from our homes, hearts alight with hope, upon hearing the news that the usurper Aegon had been defeated, and our rightful King Aegon had ascended to the throne. That day signified not just the end of a tyrant’s reign, but the dawn of a new era--an era of justice, peace, and prosperity.

Today, we gather to welcome a new sovereign, a beacon of hope for our future. We stand on the precipice of a golden age, one free from the shackles of war, where our children and their children may know only the blessings of peace.

Let us raise our goblets high and toast to the health and glory of our magnificent King and gracious Queen. May their reign be long and prosperous, may their wisdom guide us, and may their hearts remain ever compassionate towards their people.

Seven blessings upon our King and Queen, seven blessings upon you all, dear friends. Let us celebrate this glorious day with joy, honor, and unwavering loyalty to our sovereigns and our realm. Together, we shall usher in a time of unparalleled peace and unity. Seven blessings to the realm!

Trumpets blared triumphantly after his last words, and knights began to enter the arena one by one. Euphemia's eyes scanned the field until she found her brother, sitting tall on a beautiful mare. His armour gleamed in the sunlight, and his lance stood tall and mighty. Beside him was Cregan for a man who always wore his ancestral fur cloak, suited the polished armour  him well, giving him an imposing and regal appearance,  thought Euphemia.

“First, we have Ser Gorrath from house Codd against Ser Rivan from house Clegane!” the announcer's voice echoed through the grounds.

The games began with fervour. Knights clashed, displaying their skills and courage. Men won, some got injured, and tragedy struck when a young boy from the Vale was killed, his life brutally cut short in his first tourney. Euphemia placed a hand on her stomach, hoping to calm the nausea rising within her. She watched in horror as the knight bound the boy's heels to his horse and paraded the lifeless body around the grounds for the crowd to see.

After the gruesome scene was cleared, the entrance of Cregan and her brother was announced. Cregan rode in with an air of calm authority on his horse, followed closely by her brother. Cregan marched forward towards the tribune, his gaze locking with Euphemia’s. Her thoughts swirled in a storm of emotions. Was he coming to ask for her favor, to thank them for the tourney, or was he looking at someone else? As he lifted his helmet, their eyes remained fixed on each other. A slow, confident smirk spread across his face as he spoke.

“May I have the honour of your favour, my lady? For only you can guide me to victory?”

His words cut through her swirling thoughts, creating a path where there had been none. Had he always been so eloquent, so cunning with his words? It wasn’t the request that flustered her, but the lips from which it came. In Highgarden, she had heard many sweet words, but none had affected her like this. She then decided to act for her tongue had been tied in knots. Leaning over the balcony with a poised intimacy, she tied her favor to his lance. Their eyes followed the fabric sliding down the weapon. He then pivoted his horse as she did, both turning away. She returned to her seat, her composure intact, though a hot flush ran down her body, coloring her cheeks with a mix of excitement and embarrassment.

“Hahaha, he knows how to ignite the flame for the fight,” Crayn exploded in laughter.l

“Huh?” Euphemia replied, snapping out her recent encounter.

“Asking for your favor before facing Crayn,” her brother explained. “Either he wants a true challenge or to at least take away part of his victory.”

As her brother's words drifted into her ears, a cocoon of silence enveloped her, shielding her from the chaos around her. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying to protect herself from the embarrassment swelling inside. How could she have thought it meant something more? He was just trying to spite her brother. Foolish girl.

Her eyes wandered aimlessly, her mind vacant, until the crowd's gasp jolted her back to reality. Crayn had pushed Cregan off his horse, but before falling, Cregan managed to pull Crayn down with him. Euphemia and Adlyn sprang from their seats, rushing to the edge of the tribune to witness the unfolding battle on the ground. Her brother grabbed a spear, while Cregan armed himself with a massive hammer. Crayn, lighter on his feet and armed with his spear, seemed to have the advantage, deftly avoiding Cregan's heavy and slow strikes.

The two opponents charged at each other, their weapons clashing with a resounding crash. But the spear couldn't withstand the hammer's power and snapped in two, leaving Crayn with only a splintered shaft. Cregan seized the opportunity, swinging his hammer with brutal force, striking Crayn under the chin, and sending him flying backward into the arena wall.

The crowd's roar was deafening, a mix of cheers and gasps. Euphemia felt her heart seize in her chest as she watched her brother fall. Blood pounded in her ears, and she clutched the balcony rail, her knuckles white with tension. She sensed a hand reaching out from somewhere and grabbing hers. Adlyn did not look at her, his eyes were glued to the tourney, but his fingers were wrapped around her palm as he gave her a firm squeeze reminding her... Tourneys were not just a spectacle; they were a harsh reminder of the brutal reality of their world, where honour and chivalry could be overshadowed by violence and rivalry.

The scene had been cleared, and Cregan marched triumphantly, the cheers of the crowd still echoing in the air. New players were announced, and the tourney continued unabated, yet Euphemia’s mind was far from the festivities. Her thoughts were consumed by Crayn, his pained expression etched into her memory. Desperation clawed at her as she sought a way to reach him, to comfort and aid him.

“Get some time off,” her lady-in-waiting suggested softly, sensing her turmoil. Euphemia didn’t need to be told twice. Without a moment’s hesitation, she lifted her skirts and ran, heart pounding, to the chambers where her brother lay.

Bursting into the bedchamber, she was struck by the sight of Crayn. His once proud and confident form was now a mere shadow, slumped and defeated. The sight tore at her heart. Emerging from behind the door, the servants eyes widened in relief upon seeing her.

“My lady, you truly mustn’t be here. Come, let us return to the games. Your brother, if he were to--” a maester began, his voice tinged with concern.

“Leave us. All of you,” Euphemia commanded, her voice steely with determination.

The maesters and maids hurriedly collected their things, scurrying out of the room. Alone with her brother, Euphemia approached him gingerly, as if one wrong movement might shatter him completely.

“Brother,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she sank to her knees beside his bed. Her gaze fell upon the hairpin she had given him, now tucked into his belt. With trembling hands, she cradled it, her eyes closing as she devoted all her hopes and energy to her prayers. She prayed to the Father for justice, to the Mother for mercy, and to the Warrior for strength and courage.

Hours passed, and the pain in her knees grew unbearable, yet she remained, her resolve unwavering. Finally, she struggled to her feet, every movement a battle. She heard footsteps approaching the chamber--Cregan, holding a single winter rose.

“I see that you have won, but do not enter this chamber if you truly believe for one moment I wish to share your victory,” she spat, her voice dripping with disdain.

“How is he?” Cregan asked, his tone softer, almost hesitant.

“Why do you care? Weren’t you the one who caused him to be in this state?,” she retorted, fury blazin in her eyes.

“Like you assumed. I have won, and here I crown you Queen of beauty and love,” he said, ignoring her insults and extending a pink rose toward her.

“Very well,” she said, her voice laced with both defiance and hurt, as she jerked the rose out of his hand. Her fingers trembled slightly with the intensity of her emotions. "And now what? Am I to offer myself to you, to court you, to marry you?! I might have indulged the man who asked so sweetly for my favor, but not the one who knocked my brother into a sleep of death."

Euphemia stepped closer, her gaze unwavering as she locked eyes with Cregan. His breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding with anger, and a hint of undeniable attraction that he struggled to suppress. The air crackled with tension, charged with unspoken words and raw emotions.

Their faces were now mere inches apart, the warmth of their breaths mingling in the confined space between them. Euphemia could feel the heat of his presence, his eyes searching hers for forgiveness, for understanding, for absolution.

“My deepest apologies, my lady, but it was he--”

“Don’t you dare finish your words, my lord. You have done nothing but belittle and mock my family. If you are truly a man of honour, then go and swing your sword at our heads instead of playing this pathetic game of yours, for I refuse to partake in it.”

She stepped back, her expression one of cold fury. “Now, do me the honour and take your leave.”

Cregan hesitated, a strange look crossing his face. "Very well," he said, turning to leave. But as he reached the door, he paused. "If there is something you need you should know that I'll be always available for you, my lady," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

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For three days and nights, the world around Euphemia had seemed a dark and desolate place. She had sat by Crayn’s side, holding vigil in the dimly lit chamber as he lay unmoving, his breath shallow and his skin cool to the touch. Her prayers had become a whispered mantra, a desperate plea for mercy, her hope a fragile thread that threatened to snap at any moment.

The chamber was a place of shadows and whispers, the air thick with the scent of herbs and the faint flicker of candlelight casting long, wavering shadows on the walls. The maesters had done all they could, leaving Euphemia to her silent vigil, a constant, unwavering presence beside her brother.

But as the first light of dawn crept into the room, casting its gentle glow upon his still form, something stirred. The golden rays of the sun danced across Crayn’s face, highlighting the contours of his features and bringing a touch of warmth to his pallor. Euphemia’s heart skipped a beat, daring to hope for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She leaned in closer, scarcely breathing, her eyes fixed intently on any sign of life.

Then, like the softest whisper, his eyelids fluttered. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible movement, but to Euphemia, it was everything. Her breath caught in her throat, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch his hand, her fingers brushing against his cool skin.

“Crayn?” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and longing. The sound of her voice seemed to penetrate the silence of the room, hanging in the air like a fragile thread of hope.

Slowly, impossibly, his eyes opened, revealing the familiar depths of his gaze. His eyes, once full of life and mischief, now held a weary awareness, as if he was emerging from a deep, dark abyss. Tears sprang to Euphemia’s eyes, blurring her vision as she saw the spark of recognition in his eyes.

“You’ve awakened. It has been three days. Thank the Seven,” Euphemia murmured, joy and gratitude flooding her heart as she gazed at her brother’s now-open eyes.

Crayn’s response was a low, pained groan. Hearing her mention the period of his absence brought a surge of frustration to his still-weary mind. “Allow me to apologize in advance for the words I am about to use, but that fucking barbarian cunt.”

“You are forgiven because I can’t help but agree with you,” Euphemia replied, a faint smile touching her lips despite the gravity of the situation. The relief of seeing him awake overshadowed any shock she might have felt at his harsh words.

Crayn’s face contorted with the effort of speaking, his voice a raspy whisper. “I--I did this bet with him. If he knocked me out for three days, he could have my blessing for the two of you .”

“U-us?” Euphemia stuttered, eyes widening in confusion. She had no idea a pact had been made, let alone that it involved her so directly.

Crayn realized at that moment that she was completely oblivious to the plans that had been made above her head. The weight of this knowledge settled heavily on his chest. He stared at her, seeing the innocence and confusion in her eyes, and took a deep breath, steeling himself to explain the situation. He had to set this right, for he was an honest man.

[captain-writes]

Scared and Safe

It wasn’t uncommon for the life games to include some kind of pause or general cease fire for the mental health of the Players. Especially with the way that Limited Life centered on time, it was important to remember to take a breath and feel safe for a while.

Still, Scott definitely wasn’t expecting that he and Martyn would get a frantic visitor to the Coral Isles during the break. When Jimmy came dashing out of the tree, Scott’s first reaction was to check for what mobs were after the poor man. Finding none, he became incredibly confused.

“Martyn, we have a visitor,” he alerted the other man, causing him to pop out from the storage area they had created.

“Timmy? What?” It was as the words came out of Martyn’s mouth that both Mean Gills realized that Jimmy was not only terrified of something but crying as well. With it being a break, they were quickly growing concerned for whatever the cause had been.

“Martyn? Scott?” Jimmy’s voice sounded confused, as though he hadn’t known where he was going. He hesitated for a moment before approaching a bit more.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Scott asked gently, not wanting to frighten his husband any further.

“It’s just so loud. They’re so loud, needed my Property Police,” Jimmy responded, shoulders hunched in as one hand came up to cradle an ear.

Martyn nearly swore under his breath, immediately going to reach out, “Loud? Oh Jimmy, you can hear them too? It’s okay, come here, we’ve got you.”

Scott simply grew more confused at the disjointed conversation, watching as his current partner practically cradled Scott’s still distressed husband to his chest, “Too? What’s going on?”

“Did Jimmy ever explain the Listeners to you?”

Scott’s brow furrowed, “A bit, once. Oh, is he hearing them and the Watchers right now?”

“Yeah. Do we have extra space? Or a spare bed? I don’t want to send him back to the mansion tonight, especially on his own,” Martyn admitted as he looked down at the, now much calmer, visage of Jimmy, who had gone from terrified to tired.

“Sure, an extra bed shouldn’t be too hard. Jimmy? Are you okay staying here tonight?”

The exhausted man hummed a positive note, his words clearly slurring with his tired mind, “Mhm, safe here. Safe with my Martyn and my Petal.”

The Mean Gills exchanged wide-eyed glances as they registered Jimmy’s words, realizing that the man had fully slipped into sleep after uttering them. Between them, they managed to settle all three of them across a few beds that they pulled together, keeping Jimmy secure in between them as they slipped off to sleep.

The next morning, a few messages hit the server-wide chat:

Grian: Does anyone know where Jimmy went? Grian: He didn’t come back to the mansion last night. Joel doesn’t know either. Smajor: We have him. We might need a longer game pause.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Driving Habits -Octavinelle Edition

Can they drive? If so, what kind of drivers are they? What are their car habits?

Characters; Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech & Floyd Leech

Content; mentions of road rage & whatever Floyd has going on

Word Count; 500+

Find the Rest of the Series; Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Author’s Note; As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Azul Ashengrotto

Can’t drive. He has read all the books, and has had Jade try to teach him, but it’s all like flying class all over again. He hates it and he hates that Jade and Floyd tease him about it.

He even tried the driving simulation games with Idia, but those didn’t help any either. All it did was get him pissy about getting blue-shelled in Mario Kart.

Whenever he wants to go places he either has Jade pick him up or calls a taxi. There is no chance he is getting a ride with Floyd. Actually makes Floyd sign a contract to never drive him.

Will go over paperwork while sitting in the passenger seat (Jade) or back (taxi), or look out the window deep in thought going over a new promotional item for the Lounge. He refuses to take public transit, since last time he had to sit next to a screaming toddler.

At least he won’t need a license or car back in the Coral Sea, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t grumble in private and question why he can’t master it.

Jade Leech

Great driver, goes by the book. He has a dash cam set up in case the time comes should he really need it not for an alibi. This has gotten Floyd into trouble on more than one occasion.

Drives in dead silence or listens to a mycology podcast or audiobook. May occasionally hum a little tune to himself when he’s in a good mood. No one is allowed to touch the aux, if they try they may lose a finger or two; Floyd can attest to this fact.

Keeps his phone on silent. He does wear a bluetooth headset so he can take calls while still driving but only picks up if it’s from his parents, Azul (75% of the time), or Floyd (50% of the time).

Doesn’t have any bumper stickers, but does have several mushroom decorations hidden throughout his vehicle. If he could, he would have everything mushroom themed, but he needs to keep up his appearance. Keeps his keys on a mushroom lanyard. Keeps everything spotless.

Silently rages in his head at people who really shouldn’t be on the road. He just clutches tightly onto the steering wheel with a cold smile. 

Floyd Leech

He can either be an okay driver or driving like he’s in GTA and making a getaway, there is no in-between. It depends on his mood, time of day, moon cycle, and weather.

Has the music to full blast and singing along. And his playlist is the most chaotic thing, it can be 80’s one minute, dubstep the next, and then musicals. If it’s loud and chaotic, he’ll play it.

Has called Jade and Azul on speaker while he’s driving. Jade is used to this behaviour. Azul is livid, especially if he’s in class or at the Lounge. Don’t be like Floyd.

His bumper is covered in the greatest assortment of cursed bumper stickers. You can’t really make anything out. The inside is just as chaotic as the outside, but it all reflects what is going on inside his head.

Has road rage, and will act on it. Is the type of person to race people who pass him. Honestly, no one really knows how he still has a license or if he even got a license in the first place… wait, he has a license, right? RIGHT? FLOYD?!

[historiavn]

YOUR MUSE IF THEY WERE A DEITY.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN.

deity of: Honesty, Governance, Martyrdom, and Grief.

In Abrahamic religions, he is also the Patron Saint of the Misunderstood — especially those who struggle with mental health issues or who may be drawn to occult practices.

associated with: Leadership, Ghosts, War, Death, Justice, Law, History, Clairvoyance, Divination, Truth, Freedom, Morality, Karma, Manifestation, Public Speaking, Eloquence, and Authority.

sacred plants: Parsley, Sage, Alder, Monkshood, Heather, and Wormwood.

sacred stones / gems: Moldovite, Amethyst, Tiger’s Eye, Red Jasper, Onyx, Garnet, and Blue Calcite.

sacred animals: Cats.

colours: Charcoal.  Navy Blue. Silver. Heather Gray. Tan.

tarot card(s): Justice. King of Cups. The Hermit.

scents: Old books.

ways to honor & worship: Read a book you haven’t read before, dedicate your study sessions to him (especially for courses tied to history, law, or politics), debate someone on a topic you care about, write poetry.

ANASTASIA ANDREWS-ISMAY, the RMS Titanic.

deity of: Maritime Travel, Shipbuilding, The Industrial Revolution, Technology, and Tragedy.

associated with: Travel, The Ocean, Communication, Strength, Wealth, Magic, Divine Messages / Omens, Ambition, Business, Pride, Transformative Experiences, Danger, Collective Historical Memory, and Destiny.

sacred plants: Jasmine, Oak, Thyme, Marigold, Lily, Honeysuckle, and Clover.

sacred stones / gems: Malachite, Moonstone, Rose Quartz, Carnelian, Serpentine, Diamond, and Jade.

sacred animals: Coral, Crow, Dolphin.

colours: Caramel Brown. Sea Green. Dark Red.

tarot card(s): The Tower. The High Priestess. Death.

scents: The Ocean.

ways to honor & worship: Build a seashell collection and add to it whenever you go to the beach, remember those who were lost on the Titanic, research the Titanic, learn about the ocean and all of her inhabitants, sing traditional Irish folk songs, visit a museum.

TAGGED BY no one! I stole this from @rh4egar 🫶🏻🤭

TAGGING @neverhangd, @honorhearted, @threecardtrick, @audaciiae, @mvndrvke, @nomdepen, @realmyths, @reverdies, @wolfvirago, AND YOU. All tags on dash games are no pressure, so feel free to ignore this if you’d prefer. Please let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in dash game posts anymore.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Requested by anon

Kirsch Vermillion

3. Love language

He is very giving as a spouse. As in, he will get his spouse any items they might need. Just implying that they might needs something is enough for him to get it. But he doesn’t get that much knick-knacks. So It has to be something useful. Though he does occasionally splurge on a piece of jewelry or alike during special days.

Acts of service isn’t out of the question either. They just come so naturally from him that he doesn’t even think about it. It’s just… you’re in his life and he wants you to be comfortable, so why wouldn’t he do little things for you?

He compliments his spouse, telling them how they’re the most beautiful person in the world. The most talented and loving and kind and amazing… he’s not short on words. He compliments himself, but he can’t not compliment his spouse at least equally much.

But also, he gives you his time. He is a very busy man, but he always finds time for his loved one.

11. Athletics/sports headcanon

He is an excellent sprinter. A 100 yard dash is a walk in the park for him. Not that he is often seen on the track, but he has built the stamina and the muscles from running around the Coral Peacock’s base while doing all the necessary tasks for a vice captain (and captain more often than not). And sometimes it requires him to be virtually in two places at one time.

This man is QUICK in his movements when he wants to be. And nimble.

At times he’s required to partake into a running, or working out, session with the rest of the squad, and the newbies always seem to think that they can outrun him, while the older members just chuckle knowingly.

12. Favourite way to be intimate (non-sexual)

For Kirsch, he prefers to spend time alone with his partner. It doesn’t need to be anything special, but there is an added layer of intimacy if they’re somewhere private, where it is sure to be undisturbed. Maybe just lay down on the bed and stare at the ceiling with his legs crossed with his partner’s, play a game of cards or alike, read together or… anything. For him, it’s about not having to put on the front and the façade of how a royal should behave. He just wants to be himself.

That’s why a place where he can be just as he is, without having to appear as anything, is his favourite way of being intimate with his spouse.

[birgittesilverbae]

#i am having Thoughts actually about the PDAs on the Degasi bases and the trailers and 'they've been dead since the beginning' ...rood! Subnautica is one of my favorite games and that's just... ouch.

I can't stop going back to it, it's such a comfort game for me (I say as I screech at a warper fucking me up again)

Ava the sole survivor of the Aurora, her lifepod coming down hard in the Safe Shallows. upper body strength from working with the drones in engineering coming in handy now that she's in swim-to-survive mode.

it's beautiful, the first truly beautiful thing she's seen in she doesn't know how long, after a life of ship corridors and spaceports and overcrowded planets. she trawls around among the coral and the plants and admires the peepers and cobbles together a seaglide to provide her with more mobility

she watches the Aurora burn, and the only thing she mourns is her drones. she watches the Sunbeam disintegrate from the beach of an alien island, and she mourns herself as much as the crew. all fallen victim to Alterran greed

the distress calls come one after another after another. names and voices she recognizes in passing send hope thrilling through her that she's not alone here, but she moves to give aid, and again and again finds a destroyed lifepod, the remnants of last days scattered about in data boxes and flares, PDAs and fragments of machinery. no bodies, though. there are never any bodies.

Ava thinks that makes it worse somehow

driven further afield by radio alerts and searches for components to build larger and larger vessels. a lifepod PDA sends her towards a rendezvous point and she tries desperately not to get her hopes up, but they're dashed again when no one awaits her on the Floating Island but ghosts

she spends days among the rotting corpse of a once thriving set of bases, gorging herself on marblemelon and lantern fruit after too long subsisting on cured fish. spends days living with the shadows of the base's inhabitants, pictures sketched out for her in notes and voice memos and files left scattered around a facility she comes to realize had been abandoned in haste

a crew of three, half the size of that which had initially manned the Degasi. Lilith and Mary - a pilot and a mercenary frequently immortalized in verbal sparring matches with each other over the losses of their other crewmates, over the next course of action, over the grief Ava can hear in every taut syllable - and Beatrice

Ava finds herself hoping for Beatrice's soft measured tones every time she uncovers another PDA, for her musings on the planet's biodiversity and scathing asides about Lilith and Mary's inability to co-operate. she's not stupid, she knows that between state of disrepair of the island bases and the increasing urgency of Beatrice's warnings, it's almost a surety that all three of them had died here in the mudslide, but she holds out hope again. when there's nothing left to cling to, she clings tight to hope.

the last PDA she finds on the island buoys her momentarily, until she realizes where it's sending her

there's more to the story of these three survivors, but if she wants to hear it she's going to have to go deeper

[moreespressoformydepresso]

re: ask game

you have no idea how happy i get seeing any of your posts crossing my dash- i adore your fix it’s to bits!! like yes!! let those tributes get a happy ending outsmarting the capitol!! you have so many cool ideas and aus and fics & you were one of my first introductions into the tbosas fandom for characters outside the main trio.

i started to get invested in the other mentors and tributes because of your posts- i think it was around when you posted your festus/gaius/treech soulmate au or your pup time loop au? you were like a celebrity in my mind every time i saw you pop up like woah :0 it’s the tbosas fix it person :D !!

anyway, i appreciate you lots <3

Well I’m glad I opened the door for you to the wonderful world of minor characters who deserve a better ending :)

What can I say, it’s fun to screw over the Capitol ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I always imagine that at the big moments (IE the upcoming timetravel AU you suggested with Treaper dancing giddily while Gaul seethes in the background or the zoo bombing one once the mentors topple Gaul’s work) Coping And Seething plays in the background. Just a dramatic zoom to Gaul (and Maximinius’s) face(s) with “you are coping, coping and seething~ you just can’t except what you’re seeing~ the truth it is scalding and now you are malding and coooppppiiiinnnggg~”

I need to write the Pup time loop AU too that one has so much potential. And aaaahhhh the soulmate one! I just love two jackasses getting put in their place by someone who’s technically their underling (via Festus) but takes no shit. Especially because they were fated to be together but Treech just goes “nuh uh” and tears them a new one in every way he can. Coral and Panlo get to join in✨

Thank you so much you’re too nice to me 💜

[foxofsunholt]

May I ask to how exactly our brother treated us? Was it just general neglect or much worse? What was he like as we knew him?

Some of it is a little more implied than overt—overtly, your sibling (can be a man or a woman or nb) insulted you at most turns and was open with their dislike of you. It ranges from berating to criticizing to passive agressive silent treatment. BUT, that was when they were also a child—which begs the question, where were they learning how to do that?

I got in my thoughts about this so under the cut as to not clog dashes!

When they got older, they stopped with the remarks and remained cold, aloof and controlling. They wanted you to listen to them and got angry when you didn’t; though not as vicious now at all. Trying to coral your younger sibling when you’re a traumatized child yourself is a hard thing to deal with. If anything though, your sibling did not neglect you at all. They always got you food and prioritized your shelter and well-being. It just happened while they were calling you an idiot or refusing to give you any shred of familial affection, especially after the loss of your mother, who was always kind and gentle with you.

Your sibling is certainly in the wrong for treating you the way that they did: insulting you, getting upset if you didn’t listen to them, trying to do what they want and what they thing is best and doubting and deeming you if you didn’t, refusing you any kind of emotional care. They have their reasons, but there is no excuse. They were incapable of being a caretaker, they didn’t have the emotional tools for it, but they were forced into the role and did only what they knew how to do. The older they got, the “kinder” they became—the more you two just stopped trying to talk to each other and they stopped being openly insulting towards your choices. By the end of your 12 year journey together, you two had reached a strained understanding of each other and mostly how to avoid pissing off the other person and left it at that.

OKAY SO I think an easy way--or at least how I think of this in my head--is through a series of questions. How would a child who has gone through trauma, been raised with anger, treat their sibling who they feel has lived a better life than them? If you are a child, and you are forced to raise another child, how do you feel? Your sibling has grown resentful of you--they didn't want you. They don't want you. Yet, they understand that they have to take care of you. And you, a young child, are needy and demanding--you are a child who just lost the two most important people in your life, what else are you going to be? It's two children who have been abandoned by the world, how are they going to treat each other? Neither of them have the tools to be mature. Neither of them should be. You and your sibling were never given the opportunity to grow.

This is in part inspired by my own relationship with my older brother, and my experiences as a younger sibling. If any of you know the feeling of being raised by another sibling, then perhaps you understand more of what I mean when I say "controlling". It's the very distinct feeling of someone else, someone who is not wholly mature, trying to raise you and make you act in the ways that they were forced to act. Your sibling thought you were annoying, yeah. You are ~6 years younger than them (the age gap might change but for now it is 6 years) and they do not possess the maturity or patience for someone your age. They don't want to be doing this.

The way they have treated you is in line with someone who did not ask to be saddled with your care--at least, that's how they see it.

This is all I can say now. You’ll see a lot more of them in game and learn and form your own opinion of them. In some cases, they do apologize for the way that they treated you; you don’t have to accept that apology. In some cases, you might learn what their childhood was like from their eyes.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables TONIGHT (Jan 22) at 8PM. Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

#20yrsago Europe to get fake-tree microwave masts https://www.theregister.com/2004/01/22/how_to_hide_a_phone/

#20yrsago Ian McDonald’s Kling Klang Klatch https://memex.craphound.com/2004/01/24/ian-mcdonalds-kling-klang-klatch/

#15yrsago Australian family caged, detained, starved and deported by US customs https://www.smh.com.au/national/mercy-dash-family-denied-entry-to-us-20090125-gdtb2n.html

#15yrsago Rick Lieder’s fantastic backyard bird photos — new book https://memex.craphound.com/2009/01/24/rick-lieders-fantastic-backyard-bird-photos-new-book/

#10yrsago Snowden’s Russian asylum extended https://edition.cnn.com/2014/01/24/world/europe/russia-snowden/index.html

#10yrsago You won’t believe how sweet this anti-hyperbole plugin is http://downworthy.snipe.net

#10yrsago Who reads books in America, and how? https://web.archive.org/web/20140119040800/http://pewinternet.org/Reports/2014/E-Reading-Update.aspx

#10yrsago Great Firewall of Cameron blocks game update because “XerathMageChainsExtended” contains “sex” https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2014/jan/21/uk-porn-filter-blocks-game-update-that-contained-sex

#5yrsago Elizabeth Warren proposes Thomas Piketty-style annual wealth tax https://theintercept.com/2019/01/24/elizabeth-warren-proposes-annual-wealth-tax-on-ultra-millionaires/

#5yrsago Braille RPG dice https://www.dotsrpg.org/3d-models

#5yrsago Davos audience erupts in uneasy laughter at mention of AOC’s proposal for a 70% tax on income over $10,000,000 https://www.cnn.com/business/live-news/davos-2019-live-updates/h_2e61fb5a7c8252de33a30ec4afecdc18

#5yrsago Peak indifference: “extreme weather events” drive record US acceptance of climate change as an immediate problem https://memex.craphound.com/2019/01/24/peak-indifference-extreme-weather-events-drive-record-us-acceptance-of-climate-change-as-an-immediate-problem/

#5yrsago Secret Service challenge coin commemorates unpaid labor during the shutdown https://www.cnn.com/2019/01/23/politics/challenge-coins-secret-service-government-shutdown/index.html

#5yrsago The “reverse supply chain”: vast warehouses of deeply discounted, returned goods https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2019/01/where-amazon-returns-go-to-be-resold-by-hustlers/580363/

#5yrsago Google, Facebook and Microsoft were the top sponsors of a conference that featured climate change denial kooks https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2019/01/google-facebook-and-microsoft-sponsored-a-conference-that-promoted-climate-change-denial/

#5yrsago Facebook sold out the internet, secretly lobbied IN FAVOUR of upload filters https://www.politico.eu/article/inside-story-facebook-fight-against-european-regulation/

#1yrago David Graeber's "Pirate Enlightenment" https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/24/zana-malata/#libertalia

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

[mighty-ant]

La Mano Delicata, Part Two

Part One

ao3

Alberto’s father wears a thick, gold human ring on his thumb.

There’s a black stone inlaid on its surface, where a gold letter ‘M’ is engraved in sweeping, elegant, alien curves. It's out of place beneath the surface, among the seaweed and roughly hewn stone, a world that grows at the beckoning of nature. There’s nothing natural about the ring, or the other human artifacts his father leaves scattered in their cave, and for that reason they fascinate Alberto to no end. 

Most of of what his father finds is already broken: metal spindles on strange dials that shriek when forced to turn, bottles and cups that are as clear as water or dark as the deepest depths, smooth and cool to the touch but with jagged edges that cut his fingers and palms if he’s not careful. There are smaller things, metal things, with shapes that curve and point, but their names are unknown to him because as his father likes to remind him, he isn’t Alberto’s teacher. 

Their home is far from other sea folk, almost a two hour swim in any direction if he wants to see a familiar face. Alberto was young when they moved and his memories of before are vague, but he recalls the other kids that lived near him and how they played games in the coral fields. But the solitude is good too. Alberto knows he’s learning to become self-sufficient, like his father, and he wants to become like his father more than anything. 

There’s an alcove in the wall of their home where his father leaves his favorite human trinkets. Small chains of gold and silver, plates pure white as dead coral but cool and utterly smooth to the touch. When his father returns from his long absences with treasures and (if Alberto’s lucky) a fresh catch in tow, he always drops his gold ring onto the smallest plate, one more intricate than the rest with unfamiliar landscapes and writhing vines painted in the most delicate blue.

 The ring is there when Alberto returns from an afternoon hunt. 

Other sea folk aren’t the only thing scarce out here—most days, it’s an effort to bring home dinner, swimming out to the reef to find the schools of fish and scuttling crabs that hide there. He learned their migrating habits the hard way after a two-hour journey greeted him with an empty expanse, the fish having moved overnight to the entirely opposite end of the reef. He was so hungry when he got home that he scraped the barnacles off the sides of the cave and gnawed on them, shell and all, chipping a few of his teeth in the process. 

His father doesn’t tell him not to touch his favorite treasures, at least not in so many words. It’s understood that Alberto can play with the broken things he scatters around the cave, but the perfect, shiny, intact ones? Those are just for his father. 

And yet, when Alberto arrives, clutching a rough woven net with three fish and an eel inside, he finds their home silent despite evidence of his father’s presence. He often talks aloud, more than he ever talks directly to Alberto, about how good the humans must have it, how he wished they took better care of their belongings. But it’s quiet now.

 Alberto passes hesitantly through the opening to their home, scanning the corners and peeking into his and his father’s shared room. Again, he’s met with silence, and not even a glimpse of his father’s purple scales. 

He’s stalling as he sets their dinner down on the table, fashioned out of the wooden hull of a sunken human ship. He traces the whorls and grooves of the aged wood, picking at the algae growing there, wondering at the human hands that must have crafted it. But Alberto is impatient to a fault and he gives into his curiosity within seconds, dashing over to his father’s alcove. 

The ring is still there, still shining and still mysterious, and he picks it up carefully. It’s not that he’s worried about breaking it, exactly. He's learned that human things are made to last, even the broken ones. But he’s only ever looked at the ring from afar, and a small stupid part of him is certain that it’ll dissolve into seafoam if he exerts too much pressure. 

The ring catches the light just so, sparkling like the spray of sunlight across the ocean surface, and Alberto finds himself entranced at once. Up close, the ring is not nearly as perfect as he imagined it to be. There are small scratches etched on its surface, pale white and numerous, and he couldn’t count them all if he tried. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Alberto almost drops the ring. He does drop it in fact, but he claps his hands together to catch it before it can fall more than a few centimeters. He looks up, cold dread sinking into his gut with the strength of a riptide. 

His father stares back from the shadowed entrance. His eyes, the ones Alberto inherited, shine out of the dark and his lean, barracuda-thin body is still. 

His head tilts to the side—he asked Alberto a question after all. 

“Oh, uh, y-yes, sir. Sorry, I was just looking at it.”

He hums. “Didn’t realize you needed to grab something in order to look at it.” His father swims closer, holds out his hand. Alberto drops the ring into his palm at once. 

“It’s-it’s cool, is all,” Alberto tries. “Human stuff. I can never find anything that isn’t already broken.”

His father slips the ring back onto his thumb, expression thoughtful. He curls his hand into a fist. “Hm. I haven't taken you to the surface yet, have I?”

He knows he hasn’t. Alberto has been told so many, many times never to follow his father under any circumstance, but he must’ve just been waiting until Alberto was ready . The weight of dread floats off of him like bubbles to the surface, bursting into shocked joy. 

“N-no, sir! Not yet,” Alberto says, grinning. 

His father smiles back. “Would you like to see it?”

Their vespa can’t move faster than a human can walk. What Alberto had mistaken for artistic license, Giulia informs him are large splotches of rust that deteriorate the metal and flake off under his hands like sharp-edged grains of sand that leave a tang of iron on his fingers. The handlebars are loose, the frame shakes and rattles under him and Luca worse than their homemade vespa did, and within five minutes the engine casing turns blisteringly hot to the touch. 

It’s perfect . 

But even Alberto is smart enough to realize that he and Luca won’t be going anywhere on this vespa, not further than Portorosso’s winding streets and certainly not around the world. 

Luca and Giulia run upstairs to go look at a book of all things, leaving him with the setting sun and encroaching neighbors. But the prickling sea urchin of jealousy that’s clung to his ribcage for weeks barely twinges. Giulia isn’t trying to take Luca away from him, he knows that now. It doesn’t change the fact that Alberto is still going to lose him when this is all over, at least for a little while. 

He should probably ask Giulia how long school lasts. 

Parking the vespa by the Marcovaldos’ back door, Alberto takes a moment to just grip the handlebars extra tight, feeling the aged leather creak against his palm. This isn’t like one of his father’s forbidden treasures–the vespa is Alberto’s to do with as he chooses, and he chooses to return it. Alberto still doesn’t completely understand humans, but he does know that Luca will need soldi to board the train and Alberto doesn’t need a vespa if Luca isn’t here to ride it with him. 

The Marcovaldos’ yard is bustling with neighbors and more food than he’s ever seen in one place. There’s pasta in all shapes, only some he recognizes from Giulia’s training regime for the eating competition he never got to win. Tables are brought over from nearby homes and they spill out onto the street in a delightfully chaotic train, each weighed down with bottles of wine, platters of cheese and olives marinated with pimientos, trays of focaccia and steaming chive garlic bread. Plates are filled and what little space remains is immediately filled with music, chatter, and gesticulating hands. 

The storm that pelted Portorosso during the race has passed and brilliant golden sunlight breaks through the lingering clouds. Drizzle falls intermittently, glittering like coins, and Alberto’s tan skin bursts into patches of indigo scales wherever the raindrops land. But the fear of discovery, of fishermen and their harpoons, is gone, washed away by the trust in Giulia’s smile and the reassurance of her arm around his shoulders as they crossed the finish line. The fear was dashed by the brazen presence of Concetta and Pinuccia Aragosta, le Donne Gatto, once hiding in plain sight but hiding no longer. 

The fear surged, brief but paralyzing, when they stood before Massimo, who loomed larger than the tallest wave of the most fearsome storm. 

Every omission, the terrible truth of Alberto’s existence, was laid bare and he couldn’t look Massimo in the eye. He’d thought of all their fishing trips, the comforting sway of the boat and Massimo’s sure hand teaching him how to haul up the nets. The human’s expressions were often difficult to determine beneath the bushy brows and mustache, but Alberto had been so sure that those keen, hidden eyes had looked back at him with approval a few times, maybe even warmth. 

He couldn’t bear to see them filled with hate. 

When Massimo instead grabbed Alberto by the wrist and raised him over the crowd, declaring them the winners, he might as well have raised Alberto to the top of the world. 

“Al-Alberto!” 

A pair of unfamiliar voices call him, almost identical in their stutter like they’re unsure of his name. Alberto startles ungracefully, nearly knocking over their vespa. He’s quick to catch it, not willing to risk any additional dents or scratches that could put his refund at risk. 

It gives the owners of the voices enough time to crowd in close to him, smiles too wide and webbed hands fluttering. 

Alberto smiles uncertainly, reluctantly letting go of the vespa. “Uh, hi, Signore e Signora Paguro.”

After so many months on the surface, it’s almost strange to see the faces of other sea folk. He’s not exactly accustomed to humans, but he expects to see them up here, where the air is light and the sun is blazing. And anyway, for a long time his father was the only sea folk he spoke to, when he was still around. 

While Alberto might’ve seen Luca’s parents at the finish line, they hadn’t exactly met.  They were too busy clamoring over Luca, hugging their runaway son, stroking and kissing his cheeks. They’d missed him, both of them had , and obviously came to the surface looking for him despite Alberto’s blind insistence to the contrary. He hopes Luca knows how lucky he is to have that. 

 Staring at them now, face to face, it’s funny how Alberto can recognize Luca’s features in both of theirs. Or the other way around, he guesses. Luca takes more after his mother in looks, though the green tint to his scales is definitely his dad’s. 

Alberto knows he looks identical to his own father, down to the seaweed green of their eyes and the yellow tint of their sclera. When he was very, very small, so young it feels like a dream, his father used to call him ‘Mini-Me.’

“Alberto,” Signora Paguro repeats effusively, like she’s eager to say it again now that she knows she got his name right the first time. “You’re Luca’s friend! The Alberto.”

He rubs the back of his neck, his usual veneer of cool skittering out of his reach. “Uh, yeah? That’s me.” 

“Luca’s told us so much about you,” Signora Paguro starts to say, before reluctantly amending. “Well, no, that’s not true. We don’t know anything about you.”

“We knew you existed!” Signore Paguro offers helpfully. 

Signora Paguro takes Alberto’s hands in her own, her teal scales matching well with the purple of his. Not like the humans’ strange, fleshy shades of brown and pink. These are sea folk like him. He should probably feel reassured by their similarities. Instead, he feels only panic, ratcheting up his spine with every word out of Signora Paguro’s mouth. 

“Alberto what?” she asks, her expression open and gentle, though her tone is insistent. “Who are your people? Your parents must be worried sick if you’ve been out here for as long as Luca has!”

“I, um,” Alberto replies intelligently. 

What can he say? That there’s no one? He’s not like Luca with a mom and dad and a grandmother. He can’t even imagine a home with so many people in it. All his life, it was just him and his father, and he got sick of Alberto before long. 

For a few weeks, he thought it could be him and Luca. Now, it’s just him. Again. 

He tries to answer without lying. “You’re not gonna…find anyone. My dad and I…we lived pretty far away. Like, really far away. Farther than you’ve ever been, probably.”

 Signora Paguro’s smile falls. “Oh, no, sweetheart. Can we help you find him?”

Alberto almost laughs in her face. As if he hasn’t tried. As if he hadn’t spent the first three of the last thirteen months swimming further than he’s ever swam, up and down the coast, out into open ocean where the depths were endless and black beneath his feet, until his limbs ached and his eyes burned and his stomach ate itself. 

At the start, Alberto asked the sea folk he encountered in the rare villages by the shore. Have you seen someone who looks like me? But grown-up? He’d gone cave to cave, home to home, like a stupid kid who’s lost his goatfish. After all, what kind of idioti loses a whole parent? 

He’d watched their faces turn from confusion to pity too many times and he felt pathetic, abandoned all over again. His father had left him to flounder and humiliate himself in his loneliness. 

Signora Paguro is still waiting for an answer, so Alberto chokes down the sea urchins lodged in his throat. He doesn’t want to lie. 

Massimo calls him from the back of the pescheria before he can open his mouth and conjure more half-truths for Luca’s mother.

“Alberto,” he says, and nothing else. But Alberto has spent weeks bustling about a fishing boat with this human, and he recognizes the intent behind this particular summoning: Alberto, I need your help with something. 

Desperate for escape, Alberto starts backing away before even making his excuses. “Sorry, signora, I’ll be right back. Or, uh, Luca will be right back. I just gotta, y’know. Massimo’s calling me.”

Signora Paguro watches him go with a bewildered expression. “O-okay, honey.”

Alberto flees to Massimo’s shadow, away from the bustle of too many bodies and too loud voices. Bulwarked by his solid silence, Alberto’s finally able to breathe after shedding what feels like the entire weight of the midnight zone from his shoulders. 

“Yeah?” He hops from foot to foot. In the shade of the awning and out of the drizzle, Alberto can feel his scales start to dry and the tingle of phantom tail behind him. 

Massimo is still looking over his head at Signora Paguro, who’s pushing Signore Paguro toward a pair of empty seats. Nonna Paguro is already sitting down, chatting with one of le Donne Gatto. Under the gentle rain, they’re a rainbow of scales and tails. 

The reminder that their secret’s out is jarring. Even though Massimo abandoned his harpoon at their feet, raising them up as the winners of the race, part of Alberto is still waiting for the other shell to drop. For Massimo to change his mind, see him for the monster that he is and throw him out onto the street. Or worse, that he won’t care about the sea monster part and just doesn’t like Alberto . 

When Massimo tilts his head toward him, his mustache ticks up in a smile. 

“Time for dinner, ragazzo.”

Beneath the awning of the pescheria, slightly tucked away from the hubbub of the party, there’s a table set with places for four. Plates of trenette al pesto lie steaming, waiting for them, just as they did on his and Luca’s first night in Portorosso. The familiar sight pulls something up from Alberto’s belly, spreading bubbly and warm through his body like sips of wine. He doesn’t know what to do with the feeling other than to smile about it, his grin big and ridiculous. 

“Great, cuz I’m starving,” he announces, rather than give voice to the sensation of overwhelm. He bounds over to claim his usual chair, at least when they’re having dinner upstairs. Massimo takes a moment to join him, guiding the Paguros to their nice little cloth-covered table like a good host. 

Alberto grabs his forchetta, but knows better than to start eating right away. The table manners of surface folk were at the top of Guilia’s lesson plan, whether she knew it or not, and Alberto had been her reluctant student. He doesn’t care much about offending strangers but, against his better judgment, he wants Massimo’s approval and he figured early on that he wasn’t gonna get that if he was slurping up his meals like a half-starved seal. 

Besides, winning Massimo’s approval is nothing like trying to earn his father’s. 

Alberto’s dad liked to talk. Not to Alberto, but at him. Barbed observations about Alberto’s skills, or lack thereof. How lazy and stupid he was. They hadn’t lived in a colony since Alberto was seven and it’s been so long since then that he’s forgotten most of the elders’ lessons on maths and letters. And no matter how hard he tried, his father would rather mock than instruct, so he was left to practice alone until he got too frustrated with himself and gave up. 

After all, when Alberto’s father was his age, he was never dumb enough to wander into blue shark feeding grounds while searching for dinner. Alberto’s father was never so weak at his age. His father was a better swimmer, hunter, forager, you name it. Nothing Alberto did was ever good enough. 

By contrast, Massimo almost doesn’t talk enough . He chooses his words judiciously, like a nonna scrutinizing fruit at market day, and opts for none of them more often than not. But his silence isn’t a warning sign like Alberto’s father’s, the stillness of the sea before a storm. He’s simply a man of few words, a foreign concept to Alberto’s mind, having only known big words that mask small, cruel actions. 

 I haven't taken you to the surface yet, have I?

And yeah, sometimes the silence unnerves him out of learned instinct, has him second-guessing if Massimo even wants him around, but Alberto’s never been afraid of him. Even at the start, facing down the biggest human he’d ever seen, mustache impressive as a walrus’s and single arm thick enough to put a tiger shark in a chokehold, Alberto was in awe of Massimo. All of his talk about hunting sea monsters had been…concerning, but in an abstract way. It was tough to reconcile the mountain of a man who happily made them pane, burro e marmellata in the mornings while singing along to the radio with the lethal pescatore with sailfish-quick reflexes and a harpoon always within easy reach, the sort of dangerous land monster they’d been warned against all their lives.

It gave Alberto and Luca that much more incentive to keep their secret. 

But Massimo himself is kind and gruff, while humans like Ercole singled them out again and again with words and fists. It didn’t even occur to Alberto to be afraid of Massimo until he stood before the monster hunter in the rain, scaled and sharp-toothed, every inch the monster Massimo claimed to hate. Even then, it wasn’t even the threat of the harpoon in Massimo’s hand that frightened him. His father had batted him around enough times to teach him to expect violence from those bigger than him. No, it was the thought of the approving light in Massimo’s eyes dying, the suggestion of a smile turning hateful. 

Rejection. That’s what Alberto was afraid of. 

Only it never came. 

Now he can’t help but wonder, as he watches Massimo shoo Machiavelli off his chair, what happens next? Once he sends Luca out into the wide world that’s out there waiting for him, what’s left for Alberto once he’s all alone again? 

Massimo remains standing over his own place setting, not taking a seat yet. He looks across at Albero and raises a single, inquisitive brow. 

“Giulia e Luca?” he asks. 

Alberto rolls his eyes without any of the vitriol he might’ve felt a few days ago. Well, maybe just a little. They are keeping him from dinner, after all. “Upstairs. With a book. ”

Massimo turns toward the stairs leading up to the second landing, their home above the pescheria. “Giulietta,” he calls, at the same volume as his usual speaking voice. “È ora di cena.”

The window to Giulia’s room bursts open and she sticks her head out. “Two minutes, Papà!”

“It will get cold,” he chides but doesn’t argue. There’s a lightness to him that Alberto hadn’t noticed until this moment, a looseness in the breadth of his shoulders, a slight curve to his mouth that the mustache can’t completely disguise. He nods at Alberto, and the small smile becomes more pronounced. “Mah, we know better than to let good pasta go to waste, don’t we? Mangiare!”

He doesn’t need to tell Alberto twice. 

After his overnight sulk in the tower and terror-turned-elation of the race, he’s so hungry he could eat a sea cow. The last few weeks of regular meals have made him soft, he’s just now realizing. Time was, he could go a couple days on scavenged shellfish alone; he’d learned the hard way not to grab and eat the random vegetation that grows on the surface. But the pasta was filling, the pesto rich, and man had he missed Massimo’s cooking. And it had only been two days! That didn’t bode well for his plans going forward but. Oh well. 

He blinks back to focus when Massimo raps on the table with two knuckles, right by his water glass. “Eh, slow down, ragazzo. Dinner isn’t jumping overboard, either.” He speaks in a cajoling tone not that different to the one he uses with Giulia. 

Alberto swallows his current mouthful and fights embarrassment when he looks at the dent he’s already made in his plate. Massimo’s eaten maybe half of what he has from his own dinner. “S-sorry. Just a…little hungry I guess.”

Massimo jerks his chin at Alberto’s plate. “Don’t apologize for being a growing boy. You need to eat. But I don’t want you making yourself sick.”

Alberto starts eating again, but at a normal pace this time, not like he’s being timed by an impatient Giulia. “Thanks,” he mumbles, not really sure what he’s thanking him for. Not treating him any differently than before? For caring?

When he glances back up, Massimo isn’t eating. He’s watching Alberto instead, his smile replaced by a frown. “When did you last eat, Alberto?”

“Uh…” he almost wipes his mouth on the back of his hand but catches himself just in time and grabs the cloth napkin beside his plate. Alberto kind of wishes he could hide behind it. “Not that long ago,” he hedges. He thinks it was the sandwiches Massimo made for lunch the day he ran away. 

He casts about for a distraction. It’s almost like it’s been a point of pride for Massimo to feed him and Luca delicious new surface foods, so hearing that Alberto sat alone in his cold, dark tower for the last two nights feeling sorry for himself, too pathetic to think of eating anything, probably wouldn’t go over well. 

“The race!” he blurts. “Y’know, all that-that running and almost dying really tired me out. It’s been a while since humans tried to harpoon me, y’know? I’m a little out of practice.”

Massimo chokes on his wine, making Alberto jump. His expression is stricken when he lowers the glass. 

If Alberto was hoping to get Massimo’s attention off him, he’d failed miserably. 

“I’m fine, though, obviously,” he tries to excuse at the same time Massimo says, “I am sorry.”

Alberto’s mouth hangs open, ready to keep rambling, but no sound comes out. Does he have water stuck in his ears? Because he could’ve sworn he heard Massimo say–

“I am sorry, Alberto.”

There! He said it again. 

“Huh?” he manages. 

Massimo’s heavy brows furrow in consternation, and his hand on the tablecloth clenches into a fist. Dinner sits between them, growing cold just like Massimo warned. 

“You did not deserve to be hunted or attacked, now or ever. We were wrong, and I apologize for the part I played in harming you.” 

He glances down at Alberto’s left arm, and his fist tightens until Alberto can count each bleached knuckle. For the first time since Alberto has known him, he looks at a loss for words, not just silent. He looks…afraid. But what the heck could Massimo be afraid of?

“That scar on your arm. You said it was…land monsters who gave it to you.” 

Alberto follows Massimo’s line of sight, momentarily confused. He’d almost forgotten about his souvenir from the surface; the old scar is pale in his human form, a faint white line against his tan skin. It hadn’t bled too bad when he got it, and it wasn’t deep enough to even leave a cool scar. 

“Yeah?” 

Across from him, Massimo inhales deeply. His fist trembles faintly in a way Alberto has never seen it do before, even while winching up a fishing net heaving with fresh catch. “I have gone on many hunts,” Massimo intones gravely. “And struck at what I believed to be monstri marini many times. Did I…? Was that…my doing?”

It takes Alberto way too long to put two and two together. Some genius he is; it’s a good thing Luca’s the one going to school. When things do click, he gasps so loud that he makes Massimo jump this time, and he might’ve laughed if only Massimo didn’t look so gutted. 

“What? No! No, this wasn’t you. It was-it was night, but the boat was different from yours.” Night or no, he would’ve recognized Massimo’s silhouette too. He’s still the biggest human Alberto’s ever seen. 

Massimo looks him in the eye. “You are sure?”

Does he suspect Alberto’s lying to spare his feelings? It’s weird to think that Massimo might feel bad about maybe hurting him in the past, but nice to know he cares. At least a little. And giving it some thought, yeah, Alberto probably would lie, if only to spare Massimo needless guilt. 

“I’m sure.” Completely the truth this time. Nice. 

Massimo stares him down for another couple seconds, probably just to make double sure. After a few weeks on the boat together, Alberto’s gotten better at withstanding that stare, even with its raised eyebrow. At least when he’s in the right. 

Massimo leans back, the pinched look to his face smoothing out. “It will not happen again.”

Alberto blinks, caught off guard by the end of the staredown. “Huh?” 

He nods at Alberto’s arm. “You and your people will be safe on our shores. Not everyone will be kind, but they will all think twice before trying to harm you.”

Alberto’s father used to talk a big game. Called himself an explorer when all he did was pick up humans’ lost junk, a better fisherman (but only when Alberto lost track of the spawning grounds or the fish were few), and always threatened to steal one of the human’s boats and raid one of their villages.

But Massimo speaks so little that when he does talk, Alberto believes it. He isn’t a pathetic loner like Alberto’s father; everyone in town knows and respects him. At the end of the race, he got rid of the fishermen (and their harpoons) crowding around him and Luca with a glance . He invited all of them, le Donne Gatto included, to his house for a party, to show all of Portorosso that he’s on their side. 

Alberto grins, and pretends there aren’t tears in his eyes. It’ll be nice, he thinks, to still be able to visit even when Luca’s away at school with Giulia. “Thanks, Signore Marcovaldo.” 

Massimo ducks his head, tapping on the table between them again. 

“Eat,” he grunts, artfully twirling a forkful of pasta single handedly. “Your food will get cold.” 

Alberto laughs under his breath and applies himself to his dinner without needing to be told twice. 

As he eats, he looks out over half the neighborhood that’s gathered in the yard. Most everyone’s still eating and chatting, but someone brought out a record player and there’s a little circle of kids dancing. Quite a few people catch his eye, smile and wave and call out greetings, and Alberto waves back hesitantly. Even the Paguros wave from the nice little table Massimo set up for them in the rain, movements awkward in a way Alberto recognizes in himself and Luca, sea folk uncertain if they’re doing a good job copying the humans’ mannerisms. 

Even if they don’t agree with Alberto’s plan, he knows things will be okay between them and Luca now. They came all the way to the surface to find him. Alberto’s father brought him to the surface to leave him behind. He may not know what makes a good parent, but he knows what a bad one looks like, and the Paguros are far from that. They might even be good enough to let Luca go. 

There’s a clatter from upstairs–Luca and Giulia are finally coming down for dinner. And Alberto’s running out of time to work out the details of his plan. 

“But, but, hey!” he stammers ungracefully. “Random thought. The, uh, the prize money. The soldi. That we used on the vespa. Hypothetically, could I get it back and use it instead for, I dunno, a train ticket?”

Oh man it sounds so stupid coming out of his mouth. Is that how “soldi” works? Can it be returned? Anxiety latches onto his brain like an ocean parasite as one of Massimo’s brows ticks up incrementally. He peers down at Alberto from beneath it. 

“Hypothetically,” Massimo rumbles, “that would depend on where the train is going. Like Rome. Or Genova, for example.” 

Alberto freezes, staring hard at his water glass as Massimo reaches over to brush Machiavelli off Giulia’s chair. The cat just jumps onto Massimo’s shoulder, which he doesn���t seem to mind. 

“If the shopkeep gives you a full refund–and knowing Mattia, he would–you will have just enough for one ticket to Genova. But only one.”

Massimo sounds a little sad at the end, but it’s just what Alberto needed to hear. The specifics of the humans’ barter system continues to elude him but he’ll figure it out in the end. Maybe Giulia will help him out. 

Speaking of which: she and Luca come stampeding down the stairs like a horde of elephant seals, yelling about who got to the table first (Massimo keeps everyone’s plates from getting thrown to the floor in the chaos). 

He doesn’t even have time to start feeling left out before Luca looks at him, grinning and breathless, and Alberto’s heart skips a beat. Santa ricotta. He’s gonna miss him. His first friend. 

“I think Luca won,” Alberto chimes in, and tries not to laugh when Giulia squawks in outrage. 

Like gravity, Alberto’s plans usually lead to a quick, painful fall. 

Following his father up to the surface and getting himself stranded is one such example. 

Eating some weird surface plant that had him dry heaving all day and through the night is another. 

Wanting to ride a vespa around the world almost got him harpooned a couple times. Plus, it turns out vespas need to eat something called benzina to turn on and move. And (according to know-it-all Giulia) the world is way too big to travel by vespa, much less Italy. 

But this plan, Get Luca a Train Ticket So He Can Go to School and Make Something of Himself, has gone off without a hitch.

Step 1: Corner the Paguros at le Donne Gatto’s house where they’re staying until Giulia (and Luca) leave for school in two days. Apparently the old couple are Nonna Paguro’s poker buddies? Who would’ve thought. 

Massimo goes with him. Apparently his “hypothetical” questioning wasn’t as subtle as he’d hoped. But Massimo sits back with his lap covered in cats and shares a bottle of wine with le Donne Gatto and only speaks up when the Paguros have a practical question, like where Luca will live if he goes to school in Genova, which yeah, Alberto hadn’t thought about that. Whoops. 

“I have already spoken to Giulia’s mother,” Massimo says, which is news to him. 

Besides, Alberto has a different job. 

It takes the better part of an hour to explain to them how smart Luca is, how much he wants this, needs this, deserves this. Alberto’s spent too long putting Luca down, and now this is his chance to pay him back for all of it. 

And somehow, in the end, it works. He convinces them. Signora Paguro hugs him, which is weird, with tears in her eyes. “You’re a good friend, Alberto,” she tells him. “I’m-I’m glad Luca met you.” 

And Alberto doesn’t know what to say to that (cause he’s not, not really. Luca’s the good one; he’s the screwup), so he laughs and salutes super awkwardly before practically diving out the door. 

Step 2: Return the vespa in exchange for soldi to buy a train ticket. 

After leaving the cozy home of le Donne Gatto, he goes straight to the vespa shop. Alone this time. But it’s night time, and the shop is dark, so Alberto camps out on a nearby set of steps until morning, the vespa propped against the side of the building. He can’t risk going back to Massimo’s and having Luca find out about his plan. And the more he sees Luca, the harder it will be to say goodbye. 

In another rare stroke of luck, it isn’t that cold out on the steps and he’s able to sleep in fits and starts until the sun rises. Then he’s up and pounding on the door until the half-awake shop owner unlocks it and lets him in, already rambling about how he needs to return this vespa for money, signore, please and thank you.

“Ah, si.” The old man covers a yawn with his hand. “Massimo warned me you were coming. Let’s see now—si, leave that rusty thing outside. Come, come, I have your refund here.”

Money in hand, Alberto makes his way to the train station to buy Luca’s ticket. Giulia helpfully wrote down the number of the train she’ll be taking and the time it leaves. 

A113 Genova via Portorosso at 2 p.m. 

Step 3: Spend one last great day with Luca. 

He’s under no illusions. Once Luca goes to school, with all its people and telescopes and books, he’ll forget all about Alberto. But that’s fine. He’s used to it. Maybe he’ll see Luca next summer, when he and Giulia come down to visit their family.  

In the meantime, he’ll cherish the golden memories of building their ramshackle vespa together, the glitter of seaspray on his face as they ducked and rolled with the waves, their first taste of gelato. 

Today, they ride bikes through puddles and play pallone in the square, and when it rains they laugh when they change into their true forms instead of running for cover. Giulia slaps her hands over their eyes when they start another staring contest with the sun and even that’s okay. Alberto wants her to promise to take care of Luca, but he has a feeling she already will. She’s a better friend than him that way. 

All the while, Luca’s train ticket burns a hole in his pocket. 

Step 4: Figure out what he’s going to do for the rest of his life. 

That last one is, admittedly, turning out to be a little bit trickier. 

He can go back to the island and keep doing what he did before he met Luca. Survive, look for cool treasure, scare hapless sea folk with his deep sea diver suit. Only now he can apparently pop into Portorosso whenever he feels like. It’s better than what he had going on before. A thousand times better. 

So why is Alberto frozen on the shore, unable to move any deeper?

The night was black as squid ink when he made his way down to the beach– the beach, the little spit of sand thick with boulders where he revealed his true face to Giulia to prove Luca wrong, where he was singled out, where he was betrayed. Not that he’s applying any sort of special significance to this place. That would just be…sad. 

This beach happens to be where he left from last time. Nice and out of the way, with a quick, deep dropoff, perfect for a quick getaway. 

Not that Alberto’s gone anywhere yet. 

The horizon line is paling with the faint blue light of predawn. And he still hasn’t swam back to the island. 

Eventually, though, he does get tired of standing. 

Sitting in the surf, the tide lapping at him every ten seconds, his entire lower half becomes blue and scaly. His tail curls comfortingly around his waist, a secret sort of hug he rarely allows for himself, especially with him being human almost 24/7 these days. 

He can sorta see the outline of the island in the distance, mocking him with its nearness. 

“Leaving again without saying goodbye?”

Holy–! 

Alberto whirls around so fast he falls sideways into the surf. Water splashes on his face, revealing a riot of scales, and his instincts scream at him to hide before his brain catches up with him. 

Massimo watches, silent and shadowed, with a softly glowing golden lantern held aloft in his hand. 

Alberto quickly affects a casual pose, propping his chin up on a fist. The tide keeps breaking over him, and he knows his fingers must be webbed now, pupils sharp and inhuman, curly brown hair exchanged for purple frill. He pretends not to notice. “H-hey!  How…uh, how long have you been standing there? And who said anything about leaving?”

He hasn’t seen Massimo since breakfast, when he slunk in through the front door after returning from the train station. Giulia and Luca were already up and eating Massimo pinned Alberto with one of those inscrutable looks of his and pushed a plate of biscuits and a tazzina di espresso in his direction. 

Massimo plants himself on a nearby boulder, setting the lantern down beside him out of reach of the sea spray. Clearly, he’s not planning on leaving anytime soon. Great.  

“I was downstairs mending the nets when I saw you leave. It is not safe to be out alone this late.”

Nerves jangling, Alberto resists the urge to roll his eyes. “What, afraid I’ll drown? Not to brag, but I think I’m a better swimmer than anyone in town.”

Massimo raises one of his eyebrows but even that silent warning isn’t enough to get Alberto to back down. He feels…jittery, exposed, like there’s a big spotlight on him even though it’s probably too dark for Massimo to even see him well without his lantern. 

He doesn’t understand why Massimo is still here . 

“Alberto, what’s wrong?” he asks, so softly Alberto can barely hear him over the crash and pull of the waves. 

And that’s just…what do the humans call it? The last straw?

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong!” Alberto struggles, splashing to his feet. His tail lashes against the water and his eyes must be glowing, reflecting the lamplight, like a monster . “Why would you think something’s wrong? Cause I’m helping my best friend leave forever?”

Massimo frowns. “He won’t be gone forever, anymore than my Giulia will be. They will have vacations from school, summer, and you can travel to Genova to visit—”

He’s never raised his voice to Massimo before, or any adult, really. Definitely not to his father. But Massimo keeps being all calm and reasonable, as if Alberto hasn’t been lying to him, as if Alberto isn’t the monster the parents of Portorosso warn their children about at night. As if Alberto isn’t painfully, irrevocably alone. 

“How!” he demands. “I don’t have help, not like Luca or Giulia. It's just me. It’s just been me for…”

Massimo keeps being calm. Keeps being reasonable. He asked about Alberto’s father, a week and a dozen fishing trips ago; Alberto had sort of lied then. 

“For how long, Alberto?” he asks now. 

383 days. Until he stopped keeping track. 

“A…a while.”

Not a total lie.

An understatement? Definitely.  

“Where were you living, all that time?” Massimo sounds determined, but also like he’s a little afraid to know the answer. 

Alberto wonders how long he’s been holding back all these questions. Massimo’s not exactly a chatty guy, after all. But Alberto sat at his table, ate his food, and slept in the treehouse he built for his daughter. At this point, he probably owes him some honesty. 

“Over there.” He points at his island, still a hazy shape against the lightening sky. 

Massimo doesn’t gape, but it’s a near thing. He stands up, boots crunching on the sand, and his eyebrows go really high up on his face. “Isola del Mare? But after the war, it was rumored to be…haunted.”

Alberto shrugs a little sheepishly. “So maybe I messed with some of the boats that came by. I didn’t want anyone discovering my hideout!”

 He didn’t set out to scare the humans at first; he was just trying to steal food. But he learned how superstitious they could be and he couldn’t not take advantage, especially when they had so many shiny and new and unbroken things. 

But Massimo just smiles at his admission. “Clever. So what is your plan now, ragazzo?”

Alberto blinks. “Whadaya mean?” 

Plan: Get Luca a Train Ticket So He Can Go to School and Make Something of Himself is basically finito. He left Luca’s train ticket with Giulia, who’d taken it grudgingly. She thinks he should say goodbye to Luca in person. 

Massimo steps forward slowly, like Alberto’s a goatfish he doesn’t want to spook. He kneels and takes Alberto’s shoulder, his palm broad and callused but gentle in spite of it. “Luca and Giulia are leaving for Genova tomorrow. The Paguros will return home. What would you like to do?”

 “What can I do?” 

He’s never had a choice before. Or at least, he’s never had anyone tell him he does. Anxiety crawls under Alberto’s skin like a hundred tiny ants. He wants to shrug off Massimo’s hand but at the same time he wants to clutch his wrist, half afraid that he’ll fall apart and dissolve into sea foam if Massimo lets him go.

Massimo clears his throat once, squeezes Alberto’s shoulder. 

“You could stay. Here. With me. I wasn’t joking when I said I’ll be needing help with the pescheria.” 

Alberto’s certain he has water in his ears again. There’s no way Massimo just said—

“Stay?” he repeats shakily, not daring to answer one way or the other, as if Massimo will rip the kind words away and laugh in his face for hoping. But Massimo isn’t his father. He says Alberto’s strong. Massimo asks questions because he wants to know more about him, not because he wants to trap him in a lie. He followed Alberto to the beach when he could’ve just looked the other way. 

“But I’m…” He looks down at himself, still purple, scales shining dimly in the gray dawn. There’s no way Massimo can look past what he is. Can he?

“You are Alberto,” Massimo says, firmly as stone. Water is wet, the moon isn’t a fish, you are Alberto. “That is all that matters.” 

Massimo’s hand has been on his shoulder this whole time. His blue and purple scaley shoulder.

“Okay.” Alberto grins, and if his face had started to dry then his stubborn tears are ruining it by cutting twin blue trails down his cheeks. 

Massimo ducks his head a little, meets Alberto’s tear stained eyes. “Okay?” he repeats. A question this time. 

Alberto laughs, scrubbing away the tears. “Okay. I’m gonna be the best employee you’ve ever had.”

That makes Massimo chuckle too, which maybe shouldn’t be much of an achievement, but it is to him. Even if Massimo’s only his boss, he’s still nothing like his father. 

“Well then, we had better return home. My best employee will need rest if he wants to continue being the best.” 

Home. That sounds…too good to be true, to be honest. 

Massimo shakes him a little with the hand still on his shoulder before standing back up. Alberto moves first, grabbing the lantern to lead them back to the pescheria. Even with the change, his eyesight is still better than any human’s, and it’ll be darker the further they get from the beach. Besides, there’s no harm in living up to his self-appointed title as best employee as soon as possible. 

On their walk back, they’re allowed glimpses of Portorosso waking up around them. 

The air is still cool, a chill lingering from the past days of rain that the sun isn’t strong enough to burn away yet. The gentle strains of piano drift down from an open second story window. Fruit vendors load their carts with crates lowered from heaving truck beds. An old man sipping coffee on his balcony waves to Massimo, who returns the gesture. Padre Eugenio is opening the huge wooden doors of the church, while il maggiore makes the first of her rounds through the plaza. 

These sights and sounds are becoming familiar to Alberto, more than his father’s quiet cave in the middle of an empty seabed. More than the island, with its lone building of crumbling stone and only the waves and the calls of seabirds for company. But soon he’ll only have Massimo to share these bustling mornings with. 

Alberto stops in the courtyard. Above them, he can hear Giulia and Luca laughing, the clatter of plates. They’re probably waiting to surprise them with breakfast. 

If he had swam back to the island, would Luca have come looking for him before he left? He did once before, so maybe…yes? 

Yes. 

He feels Massimo’s eyes on him. It wrenches the truth out of Alberto once more, choking and sharp, like he’s swallowed sea urchins. “I’m gonna miss him. Like, really gonna miss him.” 

Massimo sighs heavily, a great gust of wind against a broad sail. His father never would’ve let Alberto see his eyes get shiny with tears, or hear his voice tremble. He would’ve called it weakness. In Massimo, it looks like strength. 

“Of course you will. We always miss the people we love. I love and will miss my Giulietta. You love and will miss your Luca.”

He peers up at Massimo. “And that’s…okay?

With a hand on his shoulder, Massimo guides him to the stairs. And breakfast. And home. 

“It is love, Alberto. And love is always okay.”

[its-sixxers]

first tag game in ages

It has been forever since I've done one of these! Thanks for the tag @c-n-i-d-a-r-i-a-n!!

As I usually do for these sorts of things it's an open tag-in, if you like the post do it and tag me so I can see!!

3 ships: I'm also in the camp of writing/drawing mostly oc x oc and oc x canon (as I generally play RPGs where there's a player character that has a story or personality within player control or animation) BUT I thankfully DO have three!

Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess - Link/Midna

This one is an oooold one I've recently become reacquainted with and I am just as weak in the knees for it as ever. Enemies (sort of) to friends to lovers, subtext heavy, starcrossed - it's got all my favorites wrapped in a comfy nostalgic LoZ package. I just read the manga on archive.org and was well fed but also very heartbroken.

Psychonauts - Sasha/Milla

Love a good opposites attract with a dash of psychic spy mid-century design fun. Probably the nicest/healthiest couple I ship due to their source material being relatively bright. The fic I wrote for these two is probably my most popular when it comes to the hits to kudos/comment ratio.

Warcraft - Maiev/Illidan

Extreme emphasis on the enemies part of enemies to lovers. I was enamored with them both since I was a kiddo playing Warcraft 3, and in my World of Warcraft playing days the Legion expansion just set my imagination going. They hate each other. They're bound to each other. Maiev has no purpose with him dead. Her purpose is to kill him. Illidan is trying to save their people through questionable means. Lawful Neutral x Chaotic Neutral. It's candy to me lol. Also night elves are very cool.

first ship: Teen Titans - Starfire/Robin

I remember racing home off the school bus to catch this show. My first username ever was related to it. As an adult Beast Boy/Raven is more intriguing to me but these guys hold a special place in my heart.

last song:

last film: Princess Mononoke - Boyfriend had never seen it, I made pho and we watched it. Great night.

currently reading: nothing im illiterate

currently craving: a nap tbh

fav color: Coral Red!

relationship status: Just had my 1 yr with my boyfriend! (Our anniversary is New Years :') )

last google search: "How did this get here I am not good with computer" - was talking lolcats w my bf

current obsessions: Twilight Princess, VTM, The Sims, trying to get more betterer at art

[thebrawlerina]

Splatoon brain won't shut up until I posted this, so here's some weapon kits that the Deep Sea Brawl skins would use. Basically what weapon class, sub weapon, and special they would have if they were allowed to mix and match their own things in game.

I'll try to pick out items that match their Brawl Stars abilities but i wont be making any new thing up for this little idea. Ill also be explaining my ideas and thought process for choosing them. Feel free to suggest other things in the comments or reblogs

Sharktooth Colt

Main Weapon: Dualies

(Self explanatory. Dual pistols = Dualies)

Sub Weapon: Splat Bomb or Torpedo

(Splat Bombs are the most iconic and 'basic' of the bombs and Colt has a pretty basic kit. Torpedo is meant to be a substitute for the Silver Bullet.)

Special: Trizooka

(Trizooka is one of the longest reaching specials of the game thats also considered to be a 'basic' but powerful special.)

Octo Fang

Main Weapon: Brush or Splatana

(Both Brushes and Splatanas can work with Fang. Brushes are primarily a close-range weapon that doesn't paint well, which can reflect on Fang's melee fighting style and his poor area control. Splatanas are mid-ranges weapons that has two modes of attack and a slashing dash move, which can represent Fang's shoe kick and a bit of his super as well.)

Sub Weapon: Torpedo or Burst Bomb

(Torpedo can act as a substitute for his Popcorn gadget due to the pattern it explodes in after it targets an enemy. Burst Bomb is just quick extra damage, which would work well for an assassin like him.)

Special: Zipcaster

(There was only one choice. Zipcaster allows the user to spiderman their way into advantageous places to take down their enemies. This matches Fang's super where he dashes and chains into his opponents.)

[Extra Note: The Octobursh (Brush, Suction Bomb, Zipcaster) and Splatana Stamper (Splatana, Burst Bomb, Zipcaster) are almost perfect picks for him. I personally prefer the Octobrush for him though, partially because I main that weapon and partially because of the pun]

Coral Belle

Main Weapon: Charger

(Self Explanatory. For those who are unaware, Charger is the name of the Sniper class in Splatoon.)

Sub Weapon: Ink Mines or Angle Shooter

(Ink Mines would simulate her Nest Egg gadget, with the added tracking of Ink Mines working like her super. Angle Shooter is a long reaching sub that not only bounces off walls but also adds tracking, which simulates her other gadget and her super.)

Special: Killer Wail 5.0

(Killer Wail 5.0 is a long reaching special that locks on an enemy and aims at them for its whole duration, simulating her super and her hypercharge at once. Its the 5.0 version because that is the latest version and better simulates her kit.)

Tentacle Bonnie

Main Weapon: Slosher or Blaster

(Picking something out for Bonnie's dual changing Tank and Assassin nature was difficult. Both Sloshers and Blasters can play agressively in close range or supportively in long range, which fits Bonnie well.)

Sub Weapon: Burst Bomb

(Something quick, easy, and doez decent damage would suit Bonnie well. No further comments.)

Special: Triple Splashdown or Crab Tank

(Triple Splashdown would simulate Bonnie's form change from Cannon to Bonnie. This special can be activated while in super jump so even the execution works. Crab Tank can simulate a suped up version of her cannon Clyde)

[Extra Note: an S-Blast would be perfect to simulate her two attacking modes since that can fire close and long ranged shots. But the rest of its kits don't fully match my ideas here.]

[Extra Extra Note: I might make a post later seperating my ideas for both Cannon-Bonnie and Bonnie-Bonnie]

Cuttlefish Jacky

Main Weapon: Blaster or Brush or Slosher

(Jacky was the hardest to pick something from because there really is nothing like her attack. Blaster is meant for the burst damage powerful damage, Brush is for the up close melee damage, and Slosher is just kind of a nod to her being a construction/demolition worker.

Sub Weapon: Suction Bomb

(Suction Bomb is the strongest sub weapon in Splatoon so it felt fitting to put it here.)

Special: Booyah Bomb

(The Booyah Bomb is a simple special that drops a big explosion on the map. Not super related to anything Jacky does but it is a big circle like her super.)

Shell Blaster Gale

Main Weapon: Shooter or Blaster

(Shooters are the basic guns of Splatoon, and while Gale's attack isn't the most basic, ots more simple than what Jacky or Bonnie have. Blaster is here because of the name.)

Sub Weapon: Sprinkler or Squid Beacon

(Sprinkler is meant to replicate his tornado gadget as a spinning thing that can do some area denial. Squid Beacon is like the reverse springloader gadget, where teammates jump to it instead of using it to jump away.)

Special: Splattercolor Screen

(Splattercolor Screen is a massive wall of ink that does minor damage and disrupts the visuals and audio of the game, which acts somehwat like Gale's super. The visuial and audio disruption could act as a substitute for being blown away and slowed.)

[awkwardgtace]

Past and Resolution

TW: Blood, mentions of merfolk eating each other, abandonment, A look into Kyrie's past, how he reached Byssal and Pelago plus the growths before he became 300+

Poll winner from tumblr and something I've been working on all day cause i am about to lose myself to video game (zelda time!!!)

- perspective shift ----- is time shift

14k words cause I have a problem

ao3 link cause long

Past and Resolution

“Are you excited?” Foam asked. He had a vibrant red tail with eyes the same shade. His claws were dull, a benefit as he wiped away sand seeking out a white fin. The little mer in the sand tried to bury himself deeper. Foam forced out a chuckle before grabbing the end of the hidden tail.

The young mer was pulled into the open. It was clear the white tailed mer had dug it for himself as sand fell from his hands. His white eyes were shining. His hair was odd, a dark black that made the white of his fins look wrong. The face of the now revealed child had a smile, but fear hid behind it.

“Come on runt,” Foam said. “What has you hiding this time? Your scales will change during the night and by morning you’ll finally look like one of us.”

“What if I don’t?” the small white mer asked. Tears floated up from his eyes. Foam offered a tight smile before letting the white mer go.

“That won’t happen. You’ll get your colors and your name tomorrow.” Foam curled his tail into a coil, resting next to a spot of sea moss. He tilted his head and the white mer dashed into the moss bed. It was almost the same as when he’d buried himself in the sand. The kelp and moss hid the white of every fin and scale. Even his ear fins were well hidden.

“What if they don’t have a name for me?” The white mer’s fins folded against his head. He’d heard his parents talk about him. They hated him. Blamed him for the siblings who didn’t hatch. Sometimes they said it was his fault that the entire season had ended with just him being born.

“Of course they do, something like Tide or Wave. Better than Foam,” Foam kept his tight smile. The white mer had a bit of light enter his pure white eyes.

“I like your name though. I want to know what it means!” Foam ran his hand through his hair and bit back a tired sigh. This was taking forever.

“It’s a part of the water near the surface. Kelpie is named after kelp because of her green tail, and Anem because of those weird little fish things that are purple like her tail.” Foam pushed away, a darker look flashing on his face for a few seconds before his smile returned. “You should go to sleep, we’ll even take you hunting tomorrow too.”

The white mer nodded, but didn’t close his eyes. After a few seconds Foam’s fins drooped. He was sick of this. Just because he was the youngest the others left him taking care of the runt. He was probably going to be such a bright color that the runt grew backwards. Getting smaller until he fit in the coral humans liked. That would be a relief. None of this weird pup’s actions would be there to disturb the pod, his family.

“I hope I’m red like you, or pink like mom and dad,” the nameless mer said. Foam offered another tight smile to reassure the runt. Finally the white eyes closed and Foam swam out. He rushed to the others, grumbling about his current job taking care of the runt.

“The runt’s finally asleep?” Kelpie asked. Her tail was a deep green, as were her eyes. Her hair was a lighter shade of green, they all knew it would change in a few years. It didn’t stop her from being almost three times Foam’s size.

“So if he gets smaller we’re just sending him to live with those small mers right?” Anem said. Her violet tail was draped lazily over a stone. Her eyes were hidden from view by the sea blue hair floating around her head. “I hope he’s small like you or mom and dad if he doesn’t start growing smaller. I don’t want the runt following me around.”

“Took forever. He hid in the sand again. It’s annoying. I hope he’s one of those tiny mers. I don’t want him to be my problem anymore,” Foam hissed. His parents had forced the runt on him. Claiming it was better he learned since he’s small. He’d be back with his sister’s children in the future too. Easier for the larger mers to hunt when the young hid. He didn’t mind having that role, but he hated this runt. His parents were going to be smaller than him eventually, it should be their job. Plus it’s their kid.

“Aww Foam, it’s not so bad right?” Kelpie brought her hand near, but her brother slapped it with his tail. She couldn’t hold back her grin, he hated the runt more than any of them. The kid followed him like a lost shark for months. Foam actually growled at her, it just made her laugh. Anem laughed a bit too.

“We should go to bed. Tomorrow’s the first time mom and dad will actually take care of him. If we’re lucky he’s out of all our hair soon. If not it won’t be hard to lose him in a tide… Unless he’s useful.”

The white mer used his hands to keep his tears from floating up. He’d gotten scared, he wanted his brother. Foam hated him just like his sisters… just like his parents. The nameless mer rushed back to his bed of sea moss, opting to dig into the sand nearby instead. He always felt better when it came to hiding in the soft sand. Everywhere else felt too open. His eyes drifted close, his last thought a plea that he’d be a color they all like. That his family could finally love him.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two mers with tails a deep pink like coral approached the spot the nameless mer slept. They had a mixture of worry and annoyance plastered on their faces. They’d let the child pick his name and send him off. He would be a runt, not just a runt, one of the mers even smaller than a human hand. Any mer in their right mind hated caring for those ones. Too easy to hurt, too easy to leave behind, too much of a burden. 

The mermaid hung back as the merman swam into the small hollow. Only the two of them and their son Foam could fit. The merman bit back a growl seeing the nameless child had once again hidden in the sand. He carefully dusted at the lump near the bed they had supplied. A hiss mixed with a whimper slipped from the merman’s throat. His mate swam forward releasing a choked sound at the sight herself.

The nameless child’s scales had changed. They weren’t the color of a mer smaller than a human’s hand. Nor the color of his parents. His siblings, all unique in their pod, remained that way. The scales revealed a shade of deep blue. One that promised a mer that belonged in the trenches of the ocean. One that had been rumored to devour its pod in frenzies…

The two rushed to their other children. Something had to be done. They couldn’t send him to the smaller mers. No pod in their right mind would take in a trench mer. At least not around here. They couldn’t keep him, it would mean death for themselves and the three children they’d raised. No… They knew an option. It was an awful one, but it would save their lives and remove the soon to be impossible to ignore burden.

* * *

The nameless mer woke up with a shiver. His tail was open to the cool water, but he knew he’d hidden in the sand. Eyes shooting open the little mer realized his scales must have changed. Foam would have checked on him. He freed himself from the sand and stared at his tail. A brilliant blue that the mer was sure had to be like Anem or Foam’s size. He’d fit in with his family now. He’d be useful too.

The boy shot out of the den he had. The open area his family spent time in was empty. He swam forward hoping for some idea of what was happening. He should be getting his name right? His parents and his siblings should be happy with him. He could be useful… couldn’t he?

“The runt’s a deep sea mer!?” Foam shouted. The nameless mer hid, his scales helped him hide now. He didn’t know what deep sea meant. Could he be bigger than Kelpie? That would be great. He could make her feel safe like the time she growled and scared the shark away. 

“I’m not staying if you keep that monster,” Kelpie growled. The young guppy shied away. Kelpie got angry at him a lot, but he wasn’t a problem right?

“Can’t we just drop him with those things and run?” Anem said. He hadn’t heard from his parents yet. Maybe… maybe it was just his brother and sisters.

“I’ve seen those things An, there’s no way we do that and don’t become a meal ourselves.” Kelpie sounded angry. “Maybe… maybe we just handle the runt ourselves. He’s still small enough.”

“No,” it was his dad speaking up. Maybe the little mer could understand now. “We’ll be outcast if we do anything to the only survivor of that season. We need to do something else. There’s that bigger mer who has hunting grounds near here…”

“We could cover his tail to look like the fish in the area, then leave him there. If we use the fish themselves the scent shouldn’t throw off that mer. They’ll eat him,” his mother said.

The nameless mer swam away, burying himself in the sand again. Kelpie would always growl when he got too close, but chased off the sharks that saw him. Anem yelled at him for staring at her tail, but still used her scales to reflect the sun on the roof of his part of the den sometimes. Foam helped him sleep and told him stories. His parents made him his bed and hunted the fish that was best for him to eat. Even if his sisters hunted bigger fish for the others. All he wanted was to be someone his family could want around. If… if his existence was too much for them then he’d do what they wanted.

Eventually the little mer’s parents came to get him. He’d been waiting, but stayed hidden until one of them dusted the sand off his back. He tried to bury his tail deeper, like it would fix him. They grabbed his hand, the nameless child didn’t ask a single question. His parents never liked him talking around them anyway. He jumped when Kelpie’s hands wrapped around him and his parents.

* * *

Kelpie swam fast, her hold firm. She was worried about hurting her parents, not so much the runt. She’d keep her family fed if they lost their place. It didn’t matter to her. The swim at least was short with her guiding it. She let her parents and the runt float in front of her. She paused for a second before dashing forward and clamping her hand shut. She pulled it back, finding enough of the fish that swam around the grounds to camouflage the runt.

“Stay still now,” her mother said. Kelpie watched as her mother and father hid the deep sea blue from sight. They stuck some of the pieces of fish in the runt’s hair too. A part of her felt sorry for him, but not enough to risk her own life. Not enough to risk her pod and her family. Although she winced when her father caked the fish on the runt’s fins. She could just imagine the discomfort.

“Now be good and wait here, we’ll come get you soon. Once we come get you we’ll have your name for you,” her father said. The runt swam off. It was almost like he knew. Once he was far enough away she cupped her parents in her hands and swam off. They’d never deal with the runt again, the last five years will become a bad memory.

* * *

The nameless mer swam out into the open water. He’d wait for the big mer to show up. As he floated there, swarms of fish surrounded him. Their fins tickled his skin. It made him smile, he should be happy today. It was the fifth anniversary of when he hatched. He should have a name and be learning what his role in the pod would be. He should be happy.

The boy cried hidden in the school of fish. He was small enough they managed to pull him along as they swam. He was small. The mers hatched after him were all bigger. Now he was alone, now some giant mer would come along and eat him. At least the fish hid his tears.

The mer had no idea how long he’d been floating. The fish on his scales and fins made them itchy. The fish around him started to swim in all directions. Darkness surrounded him and the fish as they swam. His eyes went wide as he found the massive teeth surrounding the school he was hidden in. They snapped shut with blood floating past the nameless mer and down the giant one’s throat.  He tried not to scream as the mer started to chew. He was going to die…

* * *

Byssal froze as something strange touched his tongue. It was coupled with the fish he was currently eating. Something that didn’t belong. He chirped curiously. In the silence of the ocean the smallest sniffle reached his ears. He chirped again, this time a muffled shout came from his closed mouth.

Panic set into his heart. Had he hurt a mer? They had to be small, maybe young. Using his tongue Byssal managed to isolate the strange taste. He pressed the tiny form to the roof of his mouth, swallowing the fish he’d been eating. With his tongue pressed firmly he started on his way home. It was too dangerous for him to attempt to free the mer he’d nearly eaten.

As he swam Byssal kept up soft chirps to try and stem the tears hitting his tongue. It was a futile attempt. When his den came into view Byssal put his all into reaching the entrance. Chirps begging for the one he lived with to come to his aid. Pelago rushed to his face in worry.

“Byssal?” she chirped. He whined, it would be hard to talk. Byssal tried his best to maneuver the mer to a safer spot. “What’s wrong?”

“Small mer,” he mumbled around them. It wasn’t exactly clear, but the look on her face told him enough. She understood. “Pel, will you-”

“Open up!”

* * *

The nameless mer had tried to stay silent, the chirps were too loud for him. When the mer finally opened his jaws the young guppy was terrified. He saw his future already, the way the massive being swallowed fish bigger than him whole. He’d be dead soon enough. The rocking voice around him was too much. He couldn’t make out the words.

Soon a mer with stark white fins appeared at the mouth’s entrance. Her face was covered in pale scares. They stood out on her dark skin along with the bright white of her eyes. He’d heard about mers like her, his family didn’t like them. She swam right into the massive one’s mouth, right up to him.

“Hush guppy, it’s alright,” she whispered. Her voice was so kind. It was different from how his family had always spoken. She wrapped her arms around him and made a face when her hand touched the fish stuck to his tail. “Guess my Byssal is a messy eater? Let’s get out of here.”

The white mer held him close to her chest as she swam out of the massive mouth. The massive teeth snapped shut. The nameless mer shivered from the sound. The one holding him offered kind chirps. It made him chirp back. Immediately he forced the noise to stop, he didn’t want to be yelled at before they killed him. The massive one, Byssal, backed away. The boy looked up seeing a terrifying gaze staring down at him.

“What were you doing out there on your own?” Byssal asked. The boy just offered a chirp. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t exactly want to ask if they would eat him or just kill him. He started to cry again.

“Byss back off you’re scaring him,” the one holding him said. She hugged him tighter, his family never did this. “Guppy, can you tell us your name? We’ll help you get back home.”

The boy chirped. He didn’t have a name. She tightened her hold again, she was a little bigger than his parents. Her hands were as long as him.

“Well you can call me Pelago, or Pel. The grumpfish is Byssal he didn’t mean to scare you,” her voice was soft. He liked it, his family was always harsh when they spoke to him. Even Foam.

The nameless boy whined when the big one came close. He could feel the water pulling him free from the kind arms. He didn’t want to go back to the mouth yet. He wasn’t ready to die. The pull was gone and Byssal let out a small chirp.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to find the kid’s pod. Don’t go too far while I’m gone this time Pel,” Byssal’s voice sounded sort of soft too. The nameless mer forced himself to look into the eyes of the one expected to eat him. The merman looked kind… He sort of hoped they’d just send him off on his own. These two almost made him feel like he belonged.

“Oh please, you’ll worry your tail fin off at this rate Byssal. I am perfectly capable of defending myself, besides last time was just-”

“Just the net of a human boat that almost pulled you on board. Be safe, especially for the kid.”

* * *

Pelago watched as Byssal swam off. The grumpfish was too worried, but he did save her from a lot of close calls. She pulled the guppy tighter against her. He wasn’t talking and he was so small. The little mer must be one of the higher coral ones. She waited a few minutes just holding the little guppy. Tears started to float by her eyes.

“Guppy, it’s ok. Byss will find your pod,” she whispered. The little guppy shook his head.

“They don’t want me,” he said. His voice cracked as he spoke. It was so quiet. She chirped at him. Just something to reassure the little mer. He couldn’t be more than a foot long so far. The poor thing. Mers grew more than this by the time they got their scales… usually.

Pelago moved one of her hands. The slick of dead fish made her grimace. There was a cleaning spot nearby, it wasn’t too far. The poor thing was coated in sour smelling fish, not the ones Byss usually ate. It had her worried. What had he been through? Especially if he thought his family didn’t want him. She looked into his eyes.

“Why don’t we get all that fish off you?” she asked. The young mer paled, but he didn’t object. She held him close to her heart as she started to swim. Once he was cleaned all of this would be clear. Byss could take care of finding the pod he belonged with. Poor thing probably ran off… She hoped he just ran off.

* * *

Byssal swam as fast as he could to reach his hunting ground. The mer was young enough his scent was a mix of his pod. It should be easy enough to find them. They should be relieved to hear the guppy was safe and could come home. He chose to ignore that the coating on the guppy had been dead for a long time.

In his hunting grounds a multitude of scents intermingled. It wasn’t easy to isolate just one. He hoped he’d find something by starting where the guppy was floating. The scent on the mer mixed with long dead fish left him struggling. Byssal froze as he caught a few unusual scents. At least three more mers that were close to what he was looking for. He followed the trail.

Byssal forced himself to swim slowly, he needed time. The words to discuss the guppy were failing him. His thoughts turned dark as the distance from his grounds grew and grew. There was no way for the tiny pup to get to his grounds accidentally. A growl was building in his chest. The true reason a pup coated in dead fish was hidden in his territory started to become clear.

“So are you going to see if the runt’s still alive?” someone said. Byssal narrowed his eyes and his fins folded back against his head. A sneer planted itself on his face as he found a group of mers, all much smaller than him.

“No way,” a green mer said. She was a different shade from himself, she’d never reach his size. The growl in his chest wanted to push itself out. “Mom and dad coated the runt in fish he’ll definitely be eaten. If not by the mer by a shark or something.”

“Stop talking about the runt, he’s not our problem anymore,” a pink merman said. Byssal approached at a slow float. The small group had yet to notice him. He could see the red, violet, and pink tails behind the green one. 

“So you left a pup out for me to do your dirty work?” Byssal growled. 

The green mer swam in front of the others. It didn’t make a difference, she wasn’t big enough to be a threat. A threatening growl escaped him. He almost swore he could smell the fear on the small pod. The pink mermaid swam up and tried to glare at him. Her shaking fins revealed her fear.

“We don’t know what you’re-” Byssal growled to cut her off the speaking mermaid.

“Why?” he said. She backed away, this time the second biggest mer came forward. Violet scales. The color was rare, but another one that wouldn’t be a threat. He glared down at the pod, they weren’t even worried. They wanted the pup gone.

“If you saw his scales you’d want the same thing!” she said. “Do what you want with the runt we never wanted him anyway. He doesn’t even have a name.”

His next growl was loud enough to echo around them. The violet mer swam back. She didn’t have any bravery behind her attempt. Even the green one’s fins were shaking. It was how she should be. Mers like this made Byssal sick. A part of him wanted to punish them, but he wouldn’t be like that when Pel was waiting… when there was an apparently abandoned guppy involved.

Byssal leaned closer, three of them were bite sized to him. He could easily scare them. Baring his fangs he let out another deep growl. The entire group floated back, but he just moved closer. He let them get a good look at how big he was, how big he would always be next to them. Byssal used his size advantage to grab the smallest one, the red one, and bring him close to his teeth.

“The pup is mine now,” he growled. The little merman had tears float from his eyes. “You go near him, call him a runt, or anything until he’s full grown and I’ll have a fun time seeing what a red or violet tail tastes like.”

Byssal let the red mer go and pulled away from the pod. 

“You’ll feel the same way once you see his tail!” the green mer shouted. Byssal glared at the small mers. Another growl followed by a snap of his teeth was his response. No color could make abandoning a guppy a good option. Let alone leaving him hidden so he’d be eaten. Byssal didn’t bother saying anything. He swam off, apparently he and Pel had a pup now.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pelago kept the guppy tucked close to her. He could be lost too easily. The cleaning station came into view and she smiled. A few chirps to let the guppy know it was soon. If she’d ever been coated like this she wouldn’t be able to sit still. The guppy barely moved even as she swam, it scared her. He was too calm, too quiet, for a young mer. She couldn’t wait to see the blue of his scales going by his eyes.

The fish in the station swam away as she approached. It wasn’t uncommon, all the mers scared the smaller fish. She settled down near one of the larger groups. She knew this guppy needed to have a good cleaning by these little helpers. She chirped before finally letting the guppy fall from her arms and land on her curled tail.

The guppy curled up more on her tail. Chirps weren’t enough to convince him to move. She sighed, most mers she met were older than him. Bigger than him. Her hand was as big as him. A sigh escaped her followed by bubbles. That caught the guppy’s attention. His eyes were shining as he watched the bubbles float in the air. It made her laugh.

“I’ll make more bubbles, if you stretch out your tail and fins ok?” she asked. The guppy kept his head down for a bit of time before he looked up with a nod. He stretched his tail out on top of hers, leaning his back against her stomach. Honestly she found the guppy adorable.

Pel did as she promised, blowing bubbles from her gills. The guppy looked happy enough he didn’t even notice the cleaner fish slipping out. He tried to grab the bubbles she made. It made her smile, he was so innocent. The poor thing all alone. Byssal needed to find his pod otherwise they were keeping him. While she blew bubbles she tried to clean his hair with her hands.

The chunks she found hurt her heart. They weren’t like the ones Byss had in his teeth sometimes. The little guppy chirped and leaned into her hands. His head was so small next to her fingers and he was so happy. She tried to ignore the sick feeling growing in her stomach as the long dead fish fell out of her claws. It couldn’t have come from when Byss fed.

She hoped the mer would grow to purr. It seemed to suit him. Slowly she stopped blowing bubbles as the last bits of fish fell from his hair. The guppy’s eyes drooped, he must be tired after today. She ran her fingers through the kelp like strands for a few minutes before reaching towards his fins. The second her claw touched one he folded them back against his head and looked into her eyes with fear.

“Guppy, we have to remove the fish from your fins, doesn’t it feel bad?” she whispered. He looked away from her, his tiny body shaking on her tail.

“You’ll hate me too if you see them,” he whispered. She chirped a few times as she tried to find something to say. How could his fins make her hate him?

“Guppy, why in all the seas would…” 

Pelago trailed off as she saw the shining scales where the cleaner fish had been at work. A deep blue she’d seen rarely when she was with her mother. The mer would be large enough to purr. He would wind up even bigger than Byssal. So much made sense as that brilliantly deep blue wormed into her mind. A child punished for stories caused by mistakes of the past… A child like her.

“Oh guppy,” she mumbled. She slid her hands under his arms and lifted him off her tail. He chirped, she could hear the fear in it. She tried to chirp and calm him. Pressing him tightly against her chest she started to pet his head. “You’re going to be amazing when you grow up. So big you can help so many mers. I love the color of your scales.”

“But… the others were mad. My scales-” the guppy started. Pelago pulled him away and held him above her. Tears floating from his eyes.

“Your scales mean you get to be one of the biggest creatures in the ocean. You can travel all the seas and see everything.” She floated up, spinning in a circle with him. “You’ll see wonderful sights and meet hundreds of mers. The others don’t see the beauty behind your scales, but you should. Your scales are a gift, a wonder, something truly amazing.”

The guppy continued to cry, but she could see a difference. The face behind those tears looked hopeful. She pulled him into another tight hug as she let herself fall back to the ground. Instead of putting the young mer down she angled his tail out in the open. The cleaner fish could continue that way. While he cried against her she pulled at the fish on his fins, cleaning off what was too well packed to be a mess from the close call with Byss. She wasn’t sending this guppy back to that pod.

* * *

Byssal swam back slowly. He knew Pel would have taken the young mer to get cleaned up. He couldn’t imagine any color worth torturing a guppy. Abandoning him in the hopes someone ate him. He still wanted to go back and teach them the pain they tried to inflict, but he wasn’t that type of mer. With a pup to raise he never could be. 

As their den came into view he caught sight of Pel ducking back in. He hovered outside for a bit. He wanted to give her and the guppy time to settle in. Byssal chirped as he swam close, letting her know it was him. Others still came by sometimes. Oceanid was one thing, but her mother caused the trouble that left Pel struggling. He knew she promised not to cause that pain for her own pups.

When he ducked his head into the den his heart froze. The guppy was curled up in Pelago’s hands. It was hard to believe how small he was. The sweet moment died as he noticed the deep blue tail. He thought the eyes were going to show a mer that would be barely visible when full grown, not a trenches mer. It made him angrier, a growl slipping out of his chest.

“Shush!” Pel whispered. He fought down the growl. She would know it wasn’t towards the kid… he hoped. “He only just fell asleep. Don’t wake him up by growling, he’d probably just cry again.”

“I met his pod Pel,” Byssal whispered. He had to hope his voice wouldn’t wake up the sleeping mer. “They brought him to my grounds after he got his colors.”

“No…”

Byssal nodded, there wasn’t a way to make it sound better. The poor pup’s family sent him to die and none of them felt an ounce of regret. There was more to say, but the tiny tears floating past Pel’s face distracted him. The pup had woken up.

* * *

The nameless mer tried not to cry when the massive mer came back. Hearing he met his family broke the little mer’s strength. Now they’d kill him. Either one could eat him. He was small enough. Although… Pelago said she liked his scales.

“Guppy, did we wake you,” Pelago whispered. He shook his head, but that made her laugh. “You shouldn’t answer if you want us to think you’re sleeping.”

Slowly he uncurled and swam off her hands. Byssal was so big. It would be easy to just disappear behind the giant teeth. The little mer tried to be strong as he stared into those massive green eyes. It would be fine. Whatever they decided he couldn’t get away anyway. Even if he did, no one would be there for him. 

The little mer yelped as a finger came up behind him. He was pulled closer to one of the massive green eyes. A claw was placed on his stomach. He couldn’t stop himself from squirming. A chirp echoed in his ears. 

“You’ll be bigger than me someday,” Byssal whispered. The little mer chirped in fear. His fins pressed against his head.

“S-so y-you’re g-gonna eat me… right?” he whispered. The hands as big as him surrounded him and Byssal growled. It scared him, he saw his tears start floating in front of him.

“No.” The hands his size pulled him from the finger and claw. He felt safer in her hands.

“Guppy, of course that’s not happening. Even if he wanted to, I’d never let Byssal hurt you.” 

Pelago pulled him against her chest again. She was chirping, his family never did this. He screamed as she was pulled by the giant hand. She held him out so Byssal could see him. That face just kept coming closer. The tip of a nose came to rest against him. Just barely avoiding his head.

“You’re in our pod now,” Byssal’s chirps rumbled through the little mer’s scales. “We’re keeping you safe and happy. We’ll give you a name too.”

Pelago squirmed until she freed them both. He felt better when the other one wasn’t so close.

“Guppy!” she shouted. It made him flinch. Kelpie and Anem always shouted at him for annoying them. “You weren’t even given a name?” He shook his head. “Then we need to do that right now… I know the perfect one. Kyrie!”

“Kee ray?” the mer tried to mimic. Byssal huffed, the water flew past them.

“Really Pel? One of the names you heard the humans using?” the little mer actually smiled. The deep voice sounded kind of happy.

“Of course! The human was kind and patient. The perfect thing for a guppy who’s going to grow big enough to make me look like a human!” She pulled the mer from her chest and held him in front of her. She spun in the water so he could see the massive mer behind her. Byssal was starting to look less scary. “Well, what do you think? It’s your name. Do you like Kyrie? Of course we’ll help you learn to say it right guppy. You don’t have to use it either, whatever name you like best.”

The mer stared at them both with wide eyes. He was given a choice. They picked a name just for him, for how they wanted him to be. More tears floated from his eyes as he nodded. He liked his name, he liked having a name. He liked that they wanted to give him one and keep him and just have him there.

“Kyrie it is,” Byssal smiled at him. The little mer… Kyrie… Kyrie felt warm seeing it. “You’re one of us now so you can call me Byss like Pel does.”

Pelago… Pel pulled Kyrie close to her face. “He likes to act like a grumpfish. You’ll learn to read him soon I promise. Welcome home, Kyrie.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyrie had some trouble adjusting over the next few months. He didn’t grow much and the different food made him curious. It was fish like his parents and siblings ate, not ones that were small and shaped with pointy limbs. These fish tasted better, but his parents always said the others were better for him until he was bigger. Plus Byssal never ate when Kyrie and Pelago did. Kyrie was convinced Byssal was waiting for the two to be alone.

Knowing that, Kyrie followed Pelago everywhere. Just like he had with Foam. At night he slept curled up in her arms. She never acted upset by it either. He got to go swimming around with her and learning about magic. She said he wasn’t going to be able to use it, but she’d always help him with hers.

Pel even played with him. Out in the open. He would swim away and hide while she searched for him. At times she’d chirp to find him and he’d chirped back. He loved it, his family never let him play like this. Thinking about them made him cry, but that was happening less often. 

One of the times they were playing he learned what others that knew his family thought of him.

“Is that the runt?” a voice said. It felt like the water dropped to freezing once he heard that. They knew Foam and they never liked Kyrie. He hugged his tail as shadows surrounded him. “You ran off as soon as you got your colors huh?”

Kyrie looked up at the mers around him. He was still so small next to them. Kyrie’s fins pressed painfully against his head as the three mers blocked his escapes. Three shades of red in all directions, but up.

“Think you’re better than them now that you’ll be big?” one of them sneered. Kyrie curled in on himself. He didn’t like this. A hand grabbed his arm and forced him to stare up at the three faces glaring down at them.

“Foam’s been getting the blame because of you. All of us are being forced to take care of the new mers so they don’t run off too. We should take you back, show them you ran off all on your own.”

“N-No,” Kyrie whimpered. 

The other mers kept talking but he couldn’t understand anymore. He didn’t want to go back. His family would make him leave again, but they wouldn’t send him back here. They didn’t want him to live. The hand on his arm grew tighter. A tail fin smacked against his back making him yelp. Claws dug into his shoulders.

A strange feeling coursed through him. Sort of like when the lights hit the water during a storm. The other mers screamed, but his body was let go. He darted out, terrified of what would happen next. Gentle hands grabbed him. Ones a little smaller than him now, that held him warmly at night. He buried his face in the chest he was held to as a growl came from the mermaid.

“Touch my pup again and you’ll pay,” Pelago growled. Kyrie didn’t bother trying to see how the other three reacted. Pel started to pet his head and he let that take his attention. “It’s ok guppy, they can’t hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

Kyrie chirped. Pelago chirped in response. Confirmation and promises with no words. He felt safe, Foam always let them do whatever they wanted. Pelago held him close, he didn’t even have to ask her to. She didn’t let Byssal come close that night either. Kyrie fell asleep in her arms much earlier than normal, but he preferred it. He liked feeling safe.

That wasn’t the only time the mers from his past arrived. Kyrie was pretty sure Pel never told Byssal. If she did the mers probably would have been eaten, that’s what big mers did. At least that’s what his family acted like they did. That weird feeling came every time she scared them off. They terrified him, but she held him close for the whole day each time. 

“Kyrie,” Pelago whispered one morning. He chirped back at her, groaning when she let him fall from her arms. “Stay here, Byss will be back soon. I need to go close to humans for something today. I’ll be back as soon as I can. We can play then.”

Kyrie nodded before burying himself in the sand. The den Byssal and Pelago used had nicer sand than his old one. He smiled to himself, slowly starting to sleep again. As soon as he realized what Pel said he shot up from his cover. He was being left alone… with Byssal. Kyrie darted out. He would catch up to her, it would be fine.

It wasn’t long before he realized she might have been gone longer than a few seconds. He wasn’t sure how to find her… or get home. A tail suddenly slammed into him. He was thrown into another mer who dug his claws into Kyrie’s arms. The three who had been after him were back.

“Hey runt, don’t have your guardian today, do you?” one of them said. Kyrie tried to push himself away, but the hands grabbing him locked his arms to his side. These hands were smaller than Pelago’s, but still most of his size.

“Knew she’d get sick of you eventually. You were always annoying when you followed Foam around,” one of the others said. Kyrie folded his fins against his head. He wanted to get away. The mer holding him pushed him into one of the others.

“You know there were a few places sharks hang around.” Kyrie stared up at the one talking. Sharks were terrifying, they’d eat him in one bite. It was the only idea they had Foam ever stopped. Bringing him to a shark ground… bringing him where he’d die. Pelago wasn’t there, Foam wouldn’t care if he knew… Then Byssal… Byssal would probably eat all of them in one go.

“Go on runt,” The one closest to him pushed him forward. One of the others swam ahead, but he was left with two blocking him in. “Let’s have some fun. See if the sharks care about a mer who’ll hunt them later.”

Kyrie didn’t have a choice, his heart was pounding. No one would save him. 

A deep growl that Kyrie swore echoed over the whole ocean came from behind them. He spun around unsure how to feel when he found Byssal floating behind him. Staring down with two red tails poking out of his mouth. The one ahead of him whined, Kyrie had to assume that mer looked back too. 

Byssal’s hand moved. Kyrie’s fins folded in on themselves. He wanted this to be over. The hand surrounded him, locking him in a fist. Chirps and tears escaped as he was moved by the massive mer. He was barely even a fingertip. He never would be now that Byssal found him. The next growl let out nearly deafened him.

“Next time you hurt my pod, you’ll get more than a few marks,” Byssal growled. Kyrie curled in on himself in the water of the fist. He heard three sets of terrified chirps. So Byssal didn’t eat them… There was no telling if that was a good or a bad thing.

Byssal chirped as he swam. Kyrie didn’t know what the chirps meant. He wanted to run away, he wanted to feel safe. He wanted Pelago to be home so she could make sure Byssal didn’t eat him. Tears started to float from his eyes, but he failed to catch them. The chirps grew faster and louder. That just made Kyrie more afraid.

Eventually the hand opened. Kyrie expected to see the sharp teeth and hear them snap behind him. That he’d finally be ended because he was alone. Instead he was in the cave the two stayed in. The place they let him stay in. After gathering his courage he looked up at the massive face above him, only seeing worry.

“It’s ok pup, you’re safe now,” Byssal said. Kyrie chirped, the tears were still floating from his eyes. A claw came near him and ran down his back. It made him shudder. “Still scared of me?”

Kyrie barely managed a nod. He was scared. Lying about it didn’t matter.

“I’m not going to hurt you. You’re in our pod. I’ll keep you safe, just like I try to do for Pel.” 

Kyrie bit his lip, it hurt. His teeth had gotten sharper recently. It pushed him to stare up at Byssal. The mer looked sad. He didn’t look angry or like he was bothered. It wasn’t how his family looked at him all the time. It felt more like Pelago’s stares.

“...you were gonna eat them,” Kyrie whispered. Byssal sighed, it blew Kyrie back into the fingers cupped around him. He hadn’t even realized the fingers were there.

“No, I scared them. In this pod we don’t eat other mers,” Byssal’s voice was quiet. It was stern, but it made Kyrie believe him. There was no way the words could be a lie. “I’d only do that if the mer left me no choice. It’s what I want you to do too.”

Kyrie nodded. Byssal smiled. It was the first time he felt safe staring up at the other mer. It left him with the confidence to ask another question that had been on his mind.

“...B-Byssal,” he stuttered. Byssal just chirped, a proof that he was focused on Kyrie. “W-why do you get the fish like you and Pelago eat for me? M-my parents said I should eat the ones that have all the pointy edges and stay on the ground. Th-that it was-”

Byssal’s growl cut him off. Kyrie’s fins folded in again. The mer was mad, he was wrong. Now he’d get eaten or killed. Maybe they’d just send him out on his own. That would be worse, the other mers would try to bring him to sharks again. 

“Those fish are called starfish by humans,” Byssal said. The growl caked the words. It left Kyrie shaking. “They’re not good for you, might be why you’re still so small. I’ll make sure you’re getting everything you need Kyrie. Even when you’re bigger than me.”

Kyrie let the words sink into his mind. Byssal wanted to take care of him. As long as he was here the mer wanted him safe. It didn’t sound real. The way the mer stared at him before, the careful fingertip on his back, and the soft chirps now made it easier to believe. Kyrie wanted to believe it, he wanted Byssal to like him. He wanted Pelago to like him. He wanted… he wanted to be safe. So… he’d believe them. Even if it meant something bad.

Kyrie slowly met the massive eyes. Byssal didn’t look scary anymore. He looked safe. Kyrie darted up and buried himself in the mer’s hair. Byssal chuckled, chirps mixing with the noise. Kyrie wasn’t forced to leave, he wasn’t yelled at either. Just like how Pelago laughs when he’s buried in the sand. He was… he was accepted.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 After a year with Pelago and Byssal, Kyrie was happy. Byssal was closer to him now, they played too. The massive mer would chase him and try to grab him. If Byssal caught him Kyrie would have the giant mer’s nose pressed into his chest followed by echoing chirps. It made him laugh, he liked it. Pelago would join in and distract Byssal with spells. Sometimes he caught them both, but that was usually when it was time to go back to the den.

Sleeping at night changed too. Kyrie stayed in Pel’s arms despite being four times the size of when they found him. She didn’t mind. Byssal curled up around them, blocking out the world. It felt like when Kyrie hid in the sand, even better than that. Other times Byssal would hold Pelago and Kyrie on his chest. The chirps while the mer slept mixed with his heartbeat were calming. Foam used to yell at him for trying to sleep close like that. He had to stay in his den.

They told him stories too. Ones about mers with voices that helped others find their perfect partners. He would fall asleep dreaming of the songs leading him to someone who loved him. Promising Byssal and Pelago would stay together too. He wanted a pod that cared about each other forever. He wanted this part of his pod forever.

All of that was probably changing. Byssal and Pelago told him the three had to go see one of their friends. At first Kyrie was excited. Foam, Kelpie, and Anem hated letting their friends see him. It morphed to fear as Byssal grabbed them both to swim faster. He grew terrified as they entered waters so deep he couldn’t see the sand. He wanted to see the sand. They stopped over a crevice that went on forever.

“Marina!” Pelago called out. Kyrie was let free. He was floating, still close to the other two. He yelped as the deep blue beneath them moved. Hair as dark as the water parted to reveal ebony skin and eyes an even darker blue than the hair. He ducked behind Byssal, he’d keep them safe.

“Pel, Byssal? You two are lucky I got your message,” the mer said. Their voice was melodic, but terrifying. Kyrie poked his head out to see her, but hid once her eyes widened. “You two had a pup?!”

“Not exactly,” Byssal laughed. Kyrie whined a bit. Sometimes he forgot he wasn’t their blood. He wanted to be. He wished they were his parents from the start. “We need you to take a look at him.”

“Oh?” The mer was even bigger than Byssal. Not enough that they were dangerous to the massive mer. They brought their face close and Byssal moved. Kyrie was left in the open, tears slipped from his eyes. “Hey guppy, I’m not gonna hurt ya. Pretty small aren’t ya?”

“Marina,” Pelago said. Kyrie whined, but Pelago’s hands grabbing his shoulders helped to calm him. She guided him closer to the massive mer, close enough Kyrie could touch their eye. “Were these your scale colors?”

The massive mer’s eye blinked a few times. Kyrie tried to stay still, but he was fidgeting. They finally pulled away to look down. The huffed growl that left them made Kyrie shake.

“Hmm. It’s close, not quite there though. Anyone would probably think that you’ll be like me,” they grinned at him. “Maybe you’ll be just a bit smaller. Ha!” The shout made him shiver. “I knew that would make ya smile.”

“So he’s not a trench mer?” Kyrie swam closer to Byssal as he spoke. He wouldn’t mind staying smaller than the green mer. Although the words sounded almost sad. Kyrie knew he had to be wrong. “Do you have any idea what type he is? Who’d be able to estimate his size?”

“Nah. The kid’s close enough in colors to one of us it’s hard to tell. Anyone would tell ya he’d be like me. I don’t know anyone who ever had scales that shade. I’d guess he’ll be bigger than most of the other mers. Maybe like me, maybe smaller, but probably bigger than the green grumpfish we have here.”

Their massive hand ruffled Byssal’s hair. Kyrie stared in awe, bigger than Byssal might be ok. Then he could save them too. He could protect them like they protect him. He started chirping and that made Pelago pull him into a hug. Plus if he was just like Marina he wouldn’t be a bad big.

“If ya get worried when ya get bigger guppy come find me, there’s plenty of room in the trench,” Marina smiled. Kyrie nodded at them, but he wouldn’t go there. He didn’t want to leave Byssal and Pelago. He wanted to stay where he felt safe. Where the mers around him always offered warm smiles.

Pelago clapped her hands and smiled at Kyrie, “Go home with Byss for now, ok? I need to talk with Marina a bit longer!”

Kyrie nodded, but Byssal chirped. It was clear the bigger mer didn’t like leaving. A few moments of silence passed as Pelago and Byssal stared at each other. Byssal huffed, but held his hand out for Kyrie to swim closer. The young mer did as expected and swam into the palm offered. The massive fingers curled around him before Byssal swam off.

All he could think about was what would happen next. If being different than they thought would make him be sent away. A few tears and fearful chirps escaped. He didn’t think Byssal would notice, but the hand holding him moved. He was pressed over the heart of the mer a few chirps of reassurance followed the movement. Kyrie pushed into the chest in front of him, desperate for this to last.

“It’s fine, Kyrie,” Byssal whispered. The voice made Kyrie’s body shiver. “Big or small you’ll have us behind you.”

* * *

Pelago watched as her pod left. She had questions that needed answers. Things that Byss would be too defensive to let her ask. She swam up to Marina’s face, their eyes were narrowed. They knew she was going to be asking something that needed the others gone. She folded her arms and stared into the massive eyes.

“Are there bigger mers? Deeper in the water?” she asked. Marina narrowed their eyes. They always said they were the biggest. That they were the biggest any mer could be. Pel was the one who healed them, she knew the truth. A bigger mer’s teeth had been the injury that sent Marina from trenches in search of help.

“Pel, just hope I’m right. Don’t ya want to feel calm?” they asked. It settled the matter for her. This was something they were hiding.

“I’ll feel calm knowing what to expect.” Marina sighed, the bubbles from their sigh hid their face. Pel yelped as their fingers wrapped around her. She was pulled close as the trench mer started swimming.

“I’ll take ya, but don’t hurt that pup. I know ya aren’t the type, but that other one…”

“Byss is more protective than I am of him. We named him Kyrie. I have to know what’s coming. I have to make sure he’s safe.”

“If he goes on a frenzy what will ya do?”

“Stop him without killing him and get what he needs. He may not have started as my guppy, but he’s mine now. Byss thinks the same.”

“All you small mers talk like that, ya don’t know what-”

“We already accepted he might kill us Marina. Byss knows it might be me who dies first if we aren’t prepared. Even if it happens Kyrie will have a home. If we learn now, we can be ready. We can make sure nothing happens.”

“Well… just don’t forget ya can send him to me if he’s too much. Even the ones bigger aren’t that much, maybe a few of you longer than me. They’re not as friendly either.”

“Then it’s good I have you to help me talk to them for my pup.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Years went by and Kyrie grew. Soon enough he was Pel’s size. It made him sad, he missed the days she could hide him from everything. Byssal still dwarfed him, but there was no promise how long that would last. He snuck out more often too. Looking for ways to be useful. To ensure the fact the two took him in was worthwhile. Usually he was told not to do it again, but it didn’t stop him.

Lately his scales itched and his body ached. He’d been hungrier too. He didn’t mention any of it to anyone. He was grateful for what Byssal and Pel gave him. A bit of hunger and some discomfort was easy to handle. Easy enough until the aches started making it hard to swim.

One of the days he couldn’t force himself from the sands of their den Pel got worried. She was swimming all over, but Kyrie just wanted her to stop. He was hungry too, Byssal was probably hunting. His vision was blurry but he managed to follow Pel as she swam.

“Mmm,” he groaned. Words weren’t working. They were hard, but he wanted Pel to come closer. She did, right after he made noise. He was so hungry.

“Oh Kyrie, it’s ok we’ll take care of this,” she soothed. 

Her hand on his head was nice, she was colder than him. Instincts were winning against him and he pulled her close, holding her in a tight hug. He just wanted her to be safe when he couldn’t do anything. He wanted Byssal safe too, but he’s too big for now. Pel squirmed, but he tightened the hug he held her in. 

“Mine,” he growled. She was his to protect. So was Byssal. Both had to be safe as long as he was alive. Pel froze in his arms, but that wasn’t important. She was safe. His stomach growled, he was so hungry. He’d need Pel to go with him if he wanted food.

“Kyrie, you need to let go,” Pel’s voice wavered. He couldn’t, if he let her go she might get hurt. He needed Byssal, they had to be here. They had to be safe. If Byssal wasn’t back soon he’d take Pel along for something to eat. Another growl from his stomach was followed by a piercing pain. He squeezed Pel, she must have this pain too. “Kyrie!”

“Pel!?” Byssal shouted as he swam in. Kyrie could barely make out where the massive mer ended and the cave began. His vision was so strange, kind of dark. Byssal and Pelago were sort of… glowing? Yeah glowing, like the fish in the darker waters. “Pel are you-”

“He’s just hugging me.” Pel sounded strange. Kyrie chirped in worry. He folded his fins back, she must be in pain. “A bit too tightly to be honest.”

The weird blur that was Byssal came closer. A hand was coming near him. Panic set in his heart, Pel was his. He would keep her safe. Just like Byssal, Byssal was his too. His job, his charges, they were his. He grabbed the claw of the hand as it grew close, a growl slipping out. 

“Mine,” his voice sounded strange to him. The scent of the claw reached him, it was his. The one he held and the claw were his, he’d keep them safe. “Both mine. Safe.”

His stomach growled again, but he could ignore that. His lights needed him to keep them safe. This was the best for him to do. He’d survive until the danger passed whether or not he ate. He’d keep them safe. Just like they kept him safe, it was his turn now. 

“It’s safe Kyrie,” Pel whispered. Her hand on his arm was nice, cold. The claw in his grip pulled away, but that wasn’t allowed. He tightened his hand. The claw sliced his skin, the scent of his blood blocking others in the water. It made him loosen his hold. Did he really have Byssal and Pel? Were they other mers? Not his?

* * *

Byssal pulled his claw away as Pel squirmed out of Kyrie’s grip. He never sounded like that before. He watched Pel dash around the cave, Kyrie looked empty. Curled up hugging his stomach. Byssal almost forgot the fish he’d gone out to get. He dropped it next to Kyrie, focusing on how the young mer moved. 

It wasn’t the frenzy they expected. It wasn’t the anger that Pel was warned could come during a growth. It looked careful, one clawed hand reaching out to pull a fish close. Careful check of its scent before taking a bite. The speed Kyrie devoured the fish was what they expected. It was his size and gone in a few minutes. Byssal narrowed his eyes when the young mer reached for more.

Pelago took the distraction as a chance to use a spell to seal the cuts on Kyrie’s hand. It was strange that he’d be so focused that he let himself get hurt. As though there was no instinct to defend himself from danger. Byssal decided to curl up around the young mer and rest a hand over him. Kyrie wrapped himself around one of Byssal’s fingers instead of eating.

“Mine. Safe,” Kyrie growled. Byssal shook his head.

“I’m safe,” he whispered. Kyrie’s grip loosened. When the young mer looked up, Byssal saw empty eyes. He’d never seen a mer like that. Pel swam close just in time to see them.

“Byss,” she said. He chirped as she slowly swam closer to the pup they’ve been raising. “It’s not like Marina or the others said. This is different… I’m worried.”

Kyrie perked up at her voice and tried to reach her. Byssal curled his fingers around the smaller mer. Luckily he was still the biggest of the three of them. It didn’t stop Kyrie from trying to escape, with a strength that didn’t match his size. Pel swam down to him and placed a hand on his face.

“I’m here, I’m safe,” she said. Kyrie relaxed again. He held his arm around her, but it was gentle this time.

“Safe, kept safe. Always safe,” he said. The empty look disappeared as Kyrie closed his eyes. Nothing would ease the concern that settled on Byssal. If Kyrie got bigger, how far would he go to protect them?

* * *

The next time Kyrie was fully aware of anything he was on Byssal’s chest. The older mer had both arms pinning him. Kyrie started to squirm, normally he wouldn’t mind, but he had to move. Byssal tightened his hold.

“We’re safe, we’re here,” Byssal mumbled. Kyrie chirped back. Of course they were here and safe. He could see Pel’s tail. “She’ll be back soon, just rest.”

“What do you mean?” Kyrie asked. Byssal sat up fast enough Kyrie was thrown forward. It should have been a lot worse, but he finally noticed what happened. He was bigger, a lot bigger. Still smaller than Byssal, but at least four times Pel’s size. He… did he do something bad?

“You’re awake!” Pel shouted as she crashed into his chest. He couldn’t make himself move, Byssal’s eyes were wide. “You grew so much! How are your scales? Does anything hurt? We’ll need you to take it easy for a while. Byss kept bumping into things when he’d first grown so much!”

“I-” Byssal cut him off by placing a hand on his head. It felt weird, Byssal should be so much bigger. Pel should be smaller. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be big. What if he hurt them? What if that frenzy he’d heard other mers talk about happened? What if-

“I’m glad you’re awake. In a few days I’ll show you where we usually hunt, we’ll go together now. You’re big enough I can’t hurt you.” There was so much warmth in the words Kyrie started crying. Byssal had always been this figure that could and would hurt him. That put up with him even when they played, even if he was nice. He never thought the reason he couldn’t follow was for his safety. If that was it then…

“Thank you… Byss.” His hair was ruffled again. He looked up and saw one of the smiles Byss always tried to hide. Maybe being big wouldn’t be so bad…

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next few years Kyrie’s life did change. He’d go hunting with Byssal a lot. Sometimes on his own too, but Byss made him promise to tell them next time he was hungrier than normal. It took a while to figure out what was normal. Although that was the easy part of how his new size changed his life.

Mers were coming after them more often. Angry that Kyrie wasn’t in the trenches, angry that he was with Byssal and Pelago. He didn’t know what made the two of them specifically so bad, but he didn’t care. Sometimes mers bigger than him and Byssal would attack them. The only option was to kill, it hurt him more than he let Byss know. Pel seemed aware of it.

The days that a fight went bad she’d play with his hair. It reminded him of when they took him in. If it was to protect this life he’d fight and kill anyone he had to. As he started to get bigger there were more mers targeting him alone. Those times he’d say he was hunting when he got home to explain away his lack of hunger. He couldn’t let anyone know how often he’d had to take the life of another mer to protect himself. They might hate him for it.

He just had to rely on the mers focusing on him alone. Also that he wouldn’t be targeted when his limbs grew heavy and his scales itched. Unfortunately he wasn’t that lucky. 

A group of mers came after him when he left to hunt. A few were easy enough to scare away. One was bigger than Byssal, he needed his speed to survive. His tail felt like stone as he tried to swim. The massive mer managed to scrape his tail. His blood painted the water red and left him falling to the sand. He barely rolled out of the way before claws slammed into the sand where he’d just been.

“Do you get it now?!” the mer yelled. Kyrie growled. He didn’t get anything. They always tried to chase him to the trenches, he wouldn’t leave. Not when there were people who cared about him. “Leave. You don’t belong in these waters! If you don’t go now I’ll make sure you won’t ever reach your full length. Not with those two raising you.”

“Back off!” Kyrie shouted. The mer growled in response. Kyrie put all the strength he had into a last ditch push from his tail. He slammed into the other mer, biting deep into her side.

She screamed, barely managing to push him away. He fell to the sand again, more of his own blood painting the water. It mixed with hers creating an awful scent. His back hit the sand with enough force he thought something cracked. His vision started to darken. 

“Cursed tides!” she shouted. He growled, somehow he’d survive. Another growl from somewhere echoed his own. “I’ll kill you for this!”

He tried to swallow the chunk he’d bitten to make another attack. The taste alone made him sick. He never liked it, but this time it made him gag. As soon as he managed to fight it down, a green blur swam over him. The other mer screamed. Kyrie managed to push himself up just enough to see Byssal taking a chunk out of the mermaid. 

The fight was different from the ones he’d been in. Byssal was using strength to win despite his smaller size. He took chunks out of the mers tail, but the mer was scratching Byssal. She took a chunk out of his side, but Byssal used the chance to bite her neck. The dispersing blood turned the water a sickening pinkish red. Byss floated towards him, the older mer covered in blood.

“...Home. Now,” Byss growled. 

Kyrie nodded and used the little strength he had to push himself up again. Byss grabbed his arm and the two swam home. The blood left a sickening trail behind them. The heavy feeling in his limbs grew worse, but Byss wasn’t safe. They had to get to Pel so she could heal him. Kyrie forced his pain from his mind. He had to get Byss home. It was Kyrie’s job to protect Byssal. Not this, this shouldn’t have happened.

* * *

Byssal was tired and in a lot of pain. They just had to reach Pel. He’d seen her heal worse injuries, they’d both be fine. He wouldn’t let Kyrie go out hunting alone anymore. This whole time he thought this might be happening, but he had no idea it was this bad. His own vision was going dark as he tried to get them home. This wasn’t good.

Just as his speed started to fall Kyrie’s picked up. He looked back at the younger mer, the empty eyes were back. It had been years since he’d seen them. Kyrie’s speed was more than Byssal had ever seen. The younger mer acted like the injuries he had didn’t exist.

“Kyrie!” he shouted. The empty eyes just stared past him as the younger mer swam forward. It wasn’t long before he was dragging Byssal behind him. “You need to stop!”

“Safe!” Kyrie growled. It was that same odd tone of voice as all those years ago. Byssal accepted it, after last time he knew there was no stopping this.

Byssal started chirping as they neared their den. Pel needed warning, there had been danger. They were hurt. He wasn’t expecting Kyrie to nearly throw him into the den as the younger and still smaller mer sat at the entrance. Pelago’s scream kept him from trying to move towards the mer. 

“What happened?!” she whined. He watched the small woman flit around the cave. It was clear how anxious she was, ingredients thrown down constantly. “Byss I don’t know if I can fix this!”

“You’ve fixed worse,” he smiled. A large chunk of his side was gone, he was no fool. That mermaid was just as ready to die as he was. He protected his pup and that was the part he cared about. Pel floated just above him, tears floating from her eyes. “Do your best. I’ll pull through.”

 Pelago shook her head as the tears continued to float away. Byss grabbed her with his hand and held her to his chest. If she wouldn’t try he’d at least hold her. He was too afraid to admit how he felt because of something like this, because he could leave her. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t be selfish at the end.

“Take care of him,” he whispered. Pained chirps followed, but he couldn’t look at her anymore. He was distracted by the empty blue eyes staring down at him. Kyrie had left the entrance. “Take care of her, Kyrie. We’re yours right?”

“Mine,” Kyrie mumbled. Byssal’s eyes went wide when his pup went straight to the wound. After all this time did Kyrie finally hit a frenzy?!

“Kyrie don’t!” The kid could have him once he died. Not now, not when Pel would watch Kyrie kill him. The younger mer looked back with that cursed empty gaze. “Tides above listen for once!”

Byssal’s plea landed on deaf fins. If Kyrie was even awake he didn’t care. Byss did what he could to protect Pel from the worst of it. Pulling her from his chest and pushing her into the small hole she used to store rare ingredients. Her claws dug into his skin as she tried to make him let her out. She wasn’t watching him die because they failed to keep their pup fed.

Instead of the pain of teeth, he felt Kyrie taste him. His whole body shuddered at the sensation. This was the only time a mer treated him like this. Byss tried to push Kyrie off him, but the younger mer wouldn’t budge. He felt like he was pushing against a wall of stone. Pel hadn’t stopped trying to force his hand away to get free. Kyrie had to hurry up.

“Stop playing around,” Byss growled. Kyrie didn’t stop tasting him. More growls left his chest as the younger mer floated over him.

“Byss let me out!” Pel’s muffled voice hurt his heart. Kyrie had to make the kill already. It would hurt her, but they knew this could happen. 

As time passed Byssal started to feel less pain. The sting of the saltwater on his side faded. He had to be dying, close to the end of his life. Feeling should fade when that happened. Although he felt stronger than before. It wasn’t hard to keep Pel trapped and his breathing grew easier. It was strange.

“Safe,” Kyrie murmured. The younger mer met his eyes, the empty eyes had a look of relief mixed in. Kyrie returned to the entrance and Byss sat up, finally letting Pel out.

“You eel!” she shouted. “I can’t believe you would waste the time we have-”

Her words died, Byss had nothing to say either. His side was back to normal, like the fight never happened. Pel swam to it and ran her hands over the spot that had been missing. New tears floated from her as she inspected what should have been a deadly wound. Byssal stared at Kyrie, something was different with the guppy. Something that no one could help them understand.

“You… Kyrie had been… how?” Pelago whispered. Byss shook his head.

“I have no idea,” he said.

* * *

Kyrie opened his eyes to the cave he’d known for so long. He expected pain, anger, shouts, but that wasn’t happening. There was no pain in his body this time, but there was a weight on his stomach. He sat up a bit, finding Byssal and Pelago curled up on top of him. Pel looked so small and Byss was smaller than him. He grew again, he grew and now he was a monster. With all the care he could manage he slipped the mers who took him in off his stomach.

They barely moved as he did. It made him nervous. If their tails weren’t twitching he’d worry something else happened. Kyrie carefully left their den to swim. He had to think. For once he took the direction Byss and Pel always told him to avoid. It was better if he didn’t go where they could find him. It might be better if he doesn’t ever go back. Byss could have died, he didn’t even know how Pel healed him.

For all he knew they had to stop him from doing something awful. He couldn’t remember anything after Byss started dragging him towards home. Maybe he was too dangerous to live in the shallow waters. It would be better not to put the two in danger anymore. He didn’t want to leave though. Now he was big enough he could probably protect them and himself. He could be helpful, but he had one more time he’d grow. He could- 

Kyrie banged his head on a hill of sand in front of him, knocking him from his thoughts. He looked up, freezing when he saw a human face staring down at him. The human girl had brown hair and eyes. It looked like she’d been crying, something in him was desperate to comfort her. He never felt that way before.

“Don’t sing in the water,” she whispered. He didn’t know what she said, Pel used those words sometimes. Maybe she’d help him understand. “Be wary of the monsters in the sea. Except go live in a house on a cliff near the fucking ocean. That makes fucking sense.”

Kyrie forced down chirps of comfort. Humans weren’t supposed to know about him. She looked so alone. There was so much pain in her voice. She was like him. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he knew. He knew she was like him. He wanted to know more about her.

A prick of pain on his tail fin distracted him. He hadn’t noticed his arm starting to reach towards the human girl. Another tug on his tail and he found an angry Byss staring at him. Kyrie didn’t exactly want to leave the human, but he had to. It took a bit of squirming to turn around without disturbing the surface of the water, but once he did, Byss grabbed a strand of his hair and started swimming away. Kyrie followed.

“What in all the seas were you doing!?” Byss growled when they reached their den.

“I-” Kyrie tried. Pel slammed into his cheek making him stop.

“Oh guppy, I thought something happened when we woke up and you were gone!” she said. He didn’t understand.

“He was near that human beach when I found him.” Pel’s dull claws dug into his skin, they didn’t break it. They used to be able to break his skin. Somehow he knew that wouldn’t happen anymore.

“What? Why were you there?” Pel swam back enough he could see her.

“I… I went for a swim and got distracted,” he said. It was mostly the truth. 

“Why were you reaching for them?” The growl scared him. Now Byss and Pel would abandon him. They’d send him away like his first pod. 

“I wasn’t thinking.” It felt like he was that tiny guppy again. Byss swam closer. Kyrie could see now the older mer was half his size. “I-”

“Be careful next time, humans will have a much easier time hurting you than another mer.”

The care wasn’t what he expected. He’d done something wrong that could have put them all in a lot of trouble. If Byssal hadn’t shown up he might have revealed himself. He knew better. They’d taught him better. Pelago pulled him from his thoughts. Her now miniscule hands wiping at tears he hadn’t noticed started.

“Guppy, what’s wrong?” she whispered. Even now she called him guppy. He was a dozen times bigger than her, twice as big as Byssal. He wasn’t a guppy anymore, he probably…

“I’m too big,” he whispered. His tears went faster, he’d be a danger for them. 

“Kyrie,” Byssal said, his voice stern. He’d never heard the older mer sound like that. “I’ve thought the same thing in the past. If you try to leave we’ll go after you. You’re part of our pod, you aren’t too big.”

“But-” A slap from Pel’s tail stopped him.

“Do you want to live in the trenches?” He shook his head, but he was supposed to. Byssal was hurt so badly because of him. He would hurt them someday. “Then don’t worry about how big you are. You have a long time before you’ll grow again. We can find a new den before that. We’re a pod, a family, you didn’t do anything wrong guppy.”

Kyrie cried. Pel and Byss were always there for him. They found him and never once saw a monster. Never once treated him like a burden. If they’d let him he’d stay with them forever. He didn’t want to leave.

“Don’t worry so much,” Byssal’s small hand ruffled his hair. “You’re fine here.”

Kyrie nodded. As long as they’d let him stay he would. They were his family now. He was scared to say it out loud, but that was the truth. His family was this pod and hearing Pel say it, hearing Byssal tell him he could stay… He wanted this to last.

In the following years Kyrie grew more confident. He would go hunting with Byss and spell ingredient searching with Pel. Sometimes he went out alone. When he did he found himself near the human he had seen. He would listen to her talking, at least he thought it was talking. Someday he wanted to understand her, to meet her, but he would never risk Byss and Pel on a human. Not without a good reason… Not unless a siren gave him reason to act on this strange feeling in his heart.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Kyrie!” Byss groaned. “You’ve been hiding in the sand for three days. You need to leave at some point.”

“No,” he said. It had been a few days since Melody found the scale in his teeth. He wanted to be near her, but if he went close they would probably find her. They might hurt her. He was safe, but Melody would have to sing to make them go away. He didn’t want her to have to sing because of him.

“Guppy,” Pelago landed on him. The sand he’d buried himself in was too thick for her to disturb it much. His claws since he finished growing were better about digging through the ground. He could hide in the sand again and leave the cave looking like he’d never been there once he left. “Melody told me she was worried about you. What happened? She just had a violet scale…”

“Wait, violet? Where did she-”

“Hey!” A voice cut Byssal off. Kyrie knew the voice, one he hadn’t heard in a long time. One that terrified him. “Is… Is this where the uh gigantic mer lives?”

Byssal started growling, but Pel swam forward. Kyrie shifted, but stayed hidden under the sand.

“Why are you looking for him?” she asked. Kyrie fought back the chirps of his fear. 

“I… look, is he here?” Byssal growled again, but Kyrie moved. It had been enough time… he could face them again… He could see his brother again. The sand cascaded down as he moved. He could see the bright red tail as the clouds of sand dispersed.

“I’m here,” he said. It was hard to talk to them. To say anything when those memories had never left him. Foam swam back, fear in his eyes. Kyrie expected pain from seeing his older brother, but it was… neutral.

“Oh, uh, just I… Th-thanks for uh… healing my sister, she would be dead if you hadn’t, so uh yeah thanks!”

Foam swam off and Kyrie was left behind watching him go. He lowered himself, finding his brother swimming into his sister… Into Kelpie. The two swam off and Kyrie wasn’t hurt. It was fine. Byssal swam up to his face placing a hand on his cheek.

“Are you ok?” he asked. Kyrie nodded. Pel chirped as she swam closer. “You should go see Melody.”

Kyrie agreed and swam off. He… he wanted to tell her it wasn’t bad. That it didn’t hurt. He wanted to hold her close, remind himself that he got everything he wanted. People who loved him and someone he loved.

* * *

“There was no way that monster was the runt!” Anem shouted. Foam swam after her, Kelpie close behind. “You saw how big he was. There’s nothing bigger in the water!”

“It was him, go see for yourself. That mer that threatened us back then was even there!” Kelpie said. Foam didn’t know what to think. The runt was that monster and let them go.

“We should-” Foam was cut off as the massive blue tail passed overhead. He and his siblings stared after the tail. He was the first to follow. Kelpie grabbed him while Anem swam next to her. “Believe us now, An?”

“Where is he going?” 

“We’re finding out.”

They swam in silence. It was unbelievable. Kelpie was only half the size of the mer who threatened them. He was half her size, then Anem was only a little smaller than her. How did the runt become… that?! The chirp from in front of them echoed, it had to come from the runt. They found his tail resting on the sand, but his upper body was above the water.

“The surface?” he whispered. 

Foam swam ahead of his sisters. He was the bravest of the three despite being the smallest. He poked above the water at the edge of a beach. Splashes sounded behind him as his sisters surfaced too.

Ahead of him the runt had his nose pressed against a heavy set human. Brown hair and eyes, but she wasn’t screaming. There was no fear of the monster against her. How could a human act like that?

“Kyrie, stop,” she laughed. 

Foam chirped, Kelpie chirped too. Anem was silent. That wasn’t normal. He turned around finding Anem staring at a mer Kelpie’s size with stark white fins. He had human eyes and hair… It made no sense. He was dangerous, an oceanid that looked human. The mer swam closer glaring down at them.

“Touch her and I’ll be the one you deal with,” he said. His words were human, but somehow they understood. 

“W-we were just curious about th-the massive mer,” Foam said. The oceanid nodded, swimming past them and climbing onto the beach. 

“Kyrie, give me a lift!” the mer shouted. One of the runt’s impossible hands came close, lifting the white mer without even looking. The mer was placed next to the human who gave him a hug. “Told you he was fine, dork.”

“Cap, don’t be rude! You were worried too. You’d gone looking for-”

“Safe,” the runt said. He nudged both the human and white mer with his nose.

“Let’s leave before he finds us here,” Anem said. Foam didn’t know what to think.

“Yeah… let’s go,” Kelpie said. 

His sisters dove under the water. He stayed behind to watch the runt with the other two a bit longer. As he watched, the white mer slowly changed into a human. The runt might have helped, but sending him away was better. If they stayed with someone like him all of them would have lost the lives they had. A part of him was glad the runt had survived and found his own pod. He dove in the water, hopefully he never had to see the runt again.