#SERIOUSLY AND WHATS WITH THE TAIL FINS ON THE OTHER NIGHT LIGHTS???

[thereweredragonshere]

I pretended that The Nine Realms is canon for a bit and gave the inbred a re design

Thunder they did you so dirty you could have been so cool🙏

Also hey hi hi my hand is better I can draw again

[oceanicxeyes]

Time seemed to spread – the silence between the two individuals broken only by the sound of careful steps over the dampened rocks that had been both burnt under the sun while gently caressed by the tides at the same time. Walter did his absolute best to remain concealed. He couldn’t just come out of his hiding place –not when his appearance would freak anyone out. For a moment, he considered his options. Was it the wise decision to ask for help? To talk to a complete stranger at night and nearly BEG for someone to collect his clothes? If the situation was the reverse, he wouldn’t have any qualms about it. He would do whatever he could to help but Walter was fully aware that not everyone had kindness in their hearts. There was a slim chance that the person he asked for assistance would just grab his clothes and belongings and run away, leaving him in a rather precarious situation. He had his wallet on his jeans. His phone, his keys… it would be a monumental drag to have to replace everything if the worse scenario came to happen. But the siren quickly dismissed those thoughts by shaking his head, his long, nearly claw like fingers brushing his hair back away from his eyes as he took a deep breath. Not everyone was a bad person. Sometimes people could surprise him and actually be nice. He liked to believe in that kindness. He had hope that not every human was a greedy monster set on their own agenda. Whoever the other individual was – Walter didn’t hear a word from him as he returned, only aware of his presence as the clothes were placed in a nearby rock. He waited for a moment or two, his own breathing suspended in his lungs as he made sure to pay attention to the careful steps moving away so that his scaled arm could reach out to collect what was his. “Thank you!” There was a slight note of relief in his voice. Hopeful and breezy like the ocean tides. The siren could get dressed now. He could take his time to lift himself to a more concealed rock with a sharper edge and not only cover his body with his clothes but also return to the human appearance that would not freak other people out. As soon as he hoisted half of his body out of the water to get dressed, he could feel his form changing. The scales disappeared only to show the smooth skin yet again, the gills on his neck closing until they were no more. The same with the fins on his back and finally – the long, powerful tail that he used to move around underwater at high speed giving room to long legs. Maybe next time he came for a swim, he would be a little bit more careful about where he would put his clothes. He got lucky this time but what about the next? And the next? Regardless – that was neither here nor there. With most of his clothes on and back to his human appearance, Walter quickly shoved his feet onto the running shoes he had brought before looking over his shoulder. Only one thing to do: thank the man who had helped him.

Drops of water fell from his hair as he stood on the rocks, carefully stepping away from the shore as he sought his rescuer in the dark, finding his silhouette nearby – standing but not fully. The shoulders were down as well as the head – something that looked odd for Walter as he did his best not to slip on the rocks and end up getting himself seriously injured in the process. But as the distance between him as his rescuer was reduced, even under the dim light of the silvery moon – Walter realized that… something was not entirely right. The posture was not a confident one. It was almost like… defeated. And the more he approached, the more he realized that whoever that man was – something was not right. “Thank you so much for your help.” Maybe others would be weary of a man standing on top of the rocks and looking like he didn’t really belonged anywhere. From what he could perceive from the limited light, Walter would understand why someone would keep their distance – as well as why the man himself would keep himself at bay. But those were other people. It was not him. “Those rocks are a tad slippery, you know?” The siren stood nearby but not close enough to invade someone’s personal space. He did not want to impose himself upon someone else – nor he wanted to appear threatening in any matter. There was just body language – and SILENCE.

And despite that thick silence that was only broken by the waves caressing the shore, Walter could feel it in his gut – almost like someone had punched him so hard that he would expel all the air from his lungs in a single gas p- the weight of a lonely soul. Was he afraid or wanting to keep his distance from the other man? Other people would – but not him. The way a person looked didn’t reflect how they behaved or were. Men and women with rich outfits and covered in sparkles could be petty and cruel and rude – and the homeless man with holes on his socks could be the kindest person one would ever meet. Never judge the book by its cover. “I’m Walter.” The siren smiled gently despite knowing the other man may or may not notice it. The first step was introducing himself. Try to make a connection somehow. “I really want to thank you for your help. I’m a little embarrassed of my silly antics.” The second step was trying to distract the men from whatever thoughts may be cruising his mind. Give him something else to focus on. And finally – a question that had no ulterior motives. A question that came out with such clear and pure intentions like the stillness of a lake. “Are YOU ok? You don’t have to answer.” He would never force anyone to talk if they didn’t want to. “But, I would feel better if you stepped back from the rocks a little bit.” The night breeze brought the scent of salt water and sand to Walter’s nose as he ran his fingers over his hair. “I would really like to thank you for saving my skin.” Quite literally. “Not everyone would have been so kind.”

As blurred vision narrows onto the ocean's surface, a small ripple is seen through the reflection of the moon and distant city lights. What was it? It's not a thought that crosses the mind as it spirals deeper into hopelessness and doubt, but before Gabriel can will his legs off the large rock and into the dark depths below, a warm sing song-y voice breaks the alone mentality. Blinking, the words aren't registered, only heard. "..huh..?" It's so softly uttered it may have been lost among the shores edge.

The mention of scaring him was the only part of the latter remark that had been the start of his ability to understand what was being said. "..No.." He states in a defeated, croak tone. "Not gonna scare me." After hearing the request, the frame turns to look around, not able to see much in the dark. Using his iPhone 11, the flashlight feature is turned on, and it's clear even from below, shielded by the sheer magnitude of the rock, that a light beam was trailing back and forth, clearly looking for said clothing. After a few minutes, it is located, whether that seeking took him down off the rock or on the same ground level as the presumed nude stranger.

No matter where the clothing was found it would be either dropped from above, or placed near by before walking out of view and back up to where he had been, prior. The immediate pull from his mental distortions was both a welcome relief, but it also felt.. burdensome. Why couldn't he just die? After helping with the unusual task, the light on the phone was shut off and he just.. stood there. Woeful posturing, slumped shoulders and a hung head, hands resting idly at either side. It's debated if maybe he would just jump after the stranger was on their way- or if he even had the courage to do it to begin with.

It didn't matter. If and when the stranger would appear, only a subtle glance would be shot their way. If asked if he was okay, or what he was doing, it would be met by a very uncomfortable silence. Dry lips would part, but nothing came out. Gabriel didn't have an answer, and if he did, the energy it would have taken to ask for help was far out of reach. Nobody cared about a homeless man.

[moonbeamsung]

Sink or Swim

You plunged deep into an ocean of love for Huang Renjun, the boy who had already fallen for the sea itself.

member: renjun

au: sailor!renjun x gn!reader

word count: 2.7k

genre: angst, fluff, slightly dystopian

warnings: character death/drowning, mentions of water (one passing mention of a typhoon and a very heavy focus on the ocean), light profanity

recommended song: when i was older by billie eilish

author’s note: Not only did the lyrics to the above song inspire this fic, but so did the general mood and sound of it :) I would recommend listening while you read, since I think it really adds to the atmosphere. My creativity took quite a while to cooperate on this one but I like how it turned out and hope you do as well, feedback is highly appreciated as always. Thanks to @astroboy-lele for her help beta-reading this (like 2 hours ago), and enjoy!

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kyuwoyo @rvse-hvvck @nakamotocore @kisshim @hunjins​

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct @k-dinernet��

The sleepy little fishing village you call home seems to sigh with the tides, waves lapping at the shore in a rhythm not unlike that of steady breaths. It’s the world’s way of inhaling the salty air, sometimes laced with the pungent scent of a fresh catch.

The sport itself is a life force here, the key to any sort of contact with the rest of civilization. Without it, the hill that the small town is nestled into might just swallow up the dozens of small brick buildings, reducing them to nothing but a memory. The murky waters would carry minuscule traces of its existence far and wide, but not even a name could break the surface.

Unfortunately, the village’s dependence on exporting fish leaves little room for the personal aspirations of its residents. At some point in your life, you’ll be called to assist with a certain aspect of the product’s distribution. The elders in charge find ways for even the most unskilled of hand and mind to participate, but they always save the hardest work for those who were born into it: the sailing families.

Quite literally, a love of the sea is in Huang Renjun’s blood.

His great-grandfather was around to see the beginnings of the seaside community, and he became the most famous fisherman known to the village by returning to the docks with large nets in tow, just bursting with sharp fins and thrashing tails. Those were the glory days, and generations later, the Huangs want their young son to follow in his footsteps, to become just as well-known for legendary angling expeditions.

But... he’s not really interested.

He would much rather take to the waves in a boat and chase the horizon, not bothering with casting a net or even a rod. To him, the ocean air is beyond suffocating, like a poison meant to expel any wanderlust from his lungs, to rip it from his soul. Renjun is a fiery spirit, and not even the crashing, slate-colored waters can dampen the adventurous spark burning bright and warm inside of him. It would take more than a typhoon to do so.

You admire that about him, too. How he holds a strong but steady resistance to the traditions of the village, the limited and meager expanse of the world that you’ve both lived in—no, been confined to—all your life.

Just think of the endless possibilities that await, beyond the hazy fog obscuring the fine line between land and sea. The faint shapes that loom in the distance, perhaps a trick of the eye but perhaps another sign of life besides you, seem so close but are still just out of your reach, teasing you both with what could lie outside this languid, ashen realm. Your heart races at the mere notion of such a thing.

The waves are impossibly blue when their image is reflected in Renjun’s dark eyes; you notice this one dreary afternoon as you let your feet dangle above the gentle ripples, sitting at the edge of one of the many docks that tangle through a mess of sailboats and fishing gear. The burnt orange of his threaded sweater stands out against the rest of the scenery, so monochromatic you sometimes swear the world is black and white.

He’s a splash of color, a splash of adventure and determination among a colorless mass of villagers who wouldn’t trade the way things are right now for anything. The dull, scuffed toes of his boots drag along the wooden planks as he trudges towards you, settling down at your side with a small gust of wind. Both anticipating and dreading the impending day when his father would teach him how to take to the seas and steer the boat that’s run in his family for generations, Renjun finds himself at the humble and rickety marina often. Anticipating because that knowledge would enable him to change the course of his own life on his own terms, and dreading because he knew of the harsh disapproval those actions would receive.

But still, Renjun stays right there on the dock next to you, diving past the shallows of his conscious mind and into the darkest, deepest abyss of his own thoughts, letting them bubble and sputter up and puff into the air like sea spray. If both your hearts are oceans of their own, they collide in this moment, as his ambitions and aspirations spill over into yours and settle on the seabed below. He’s chosen you to entrust these secrets with. You, the only other resident of the village with a familiar restlessness in your eyes when the sun disappears below the distant horizon, gaze wistful and longing to do the same.

And as if they’re the precious riches of a mythical swashbuckling pirate, you keep them there, each word a golden coin or sparkling gem hidden away in a long-lost treasure chest. The twilight sky that evening is the most vivid you’ve ever seen it, and daylight is fading fast by the time Renjun finishes telling you everything.

“I never knew there was someone who felt the same way I did about all this.”

The realization sets in late, just as the weathered surface you’re both perched on sways in the wind. You fear for a second that you might slip forward into the icy water; that’s how strong the breeze whipping through the air around you feels. That, or it’s due to the sheer force from your heart as it swells at finally meeting someone you’ve admired from afar for what feels like an eternity, ever since you understood what life was like and what it meant for you here.

Sure, Renjun’s grandfather may have been well-known in the past for one reason, but to you, Renjun is creating a legacy of his own for another, one of more than just adolescent rebellion and defiance. It’s one of undoubtable self-awareness, of an adamant refusal to conform to an existence he hadn’t chosen, and he’s finding a way to alter what he’s been seemingly destined for all his life.

“Me neither,” you shake your head, still in a small fraction of euphoric disbelief. “All that’s left to do now is stow away on a ship together in the dead of night, I suppose.” The comment is joking, but he takes it more seriously than you anticipated. The cloudy sky above brightens with his eyes.

You convene in shadowy alleys when no one’s looking, wasting away the hours as you mutually yearn for just a sliver of knowledge of the unknown, enthralled by the waves in the distance and what lies below and above and beside. Renjun sometimes whisks you away to a steep overlook that provides a panoramic view of the beach, the powdery sand so far beneath your bare feet gray enough to pass for finely packed pebbles. You find yourself melting into his embrace like the sea melts into the sky, blurring the already thin lines between air and water and between friendship and love. The way his fingers encircle your wrist with a curl like that of a cresting wave is telling enough on its own. His heart belongs to two bodies now.

You can’t help but notice all the similarities he bears to the element you’ve never lived a day of your life without seeing, without hearing the undulations of, without smelling or tasting the salty tang it brings to the air. Always moving, a force to be reckoned with, and evidently a possessor of the ability to travel far and wide on even the most fleeting of whims.

He’s utterly himself around the water, too. You’re almost positive he could effortlessly duck beneath the surface, take a breath, and his lungs would drink it in as if it was air. The only place he doesn’t feel like drowning is below the waves.

“Look!” Renjun points out an unfamiliar vessel tied down at the far end of the pier one day, sails torn in jagged lines as if they had been slashed by a larger-than-life creature. Upon closer examination, you find that the wooden bow of the sailboat is splintering and the windows into the cabin are shattered. The name carved into the hull is simply too faded for you to decipher the letters.

“This boat must’ve gone through hell and back,” you comment, your response delayed like an echo. “Who do you think it belongs to, anyway?”

He’s lost within a symphony of thoughts before he answers, “No one.”

Both incredulous and doubtful, you whip around to meet Renjun’s assured gaze. “No one ever comes and no one ever goes, it’s that simple. These same boats have been docked for years. They’ve belonged to the same families one decade after another.” The boy sighs, scanning the horizon for anything that might appear the slightest bit unusual. “The real question is where it came from.”

You have no answer for him.

“Regardless,” he speaks up again, quite matter of factly, “It’s ours now.”

“Ours?”

“Yes, ours. You said you’d sail away with me, right?”

It certainly isn’t the aspiration you would have envisioned yourself pursuing. You could have chosen to quietly obey, to live and work exactly as you were told by a community so rigid that you felt frozen to the bone. Not like the pleasant chill of the ocean, rather a restrictive pair of icy shackles, ever-tightening around your limbs and subduing your mutinous thoughts. But here you are, longing for a little something more both in life and with the only person that understands your heart’s deepest desires like they’re his own. And at their core, they are.

Without fear, Renjun takes a confident stride onto the boat’s deck, turning back to you and offering his hand as you mimic the action. “What are you waiting for?” He asks, eyes twinkling.

A warm thrill courses through your veins, growing hotter with each small preparation you make towards your inevitable departure. It’s an affair of many weeks, but at last you’ve gathered all of the necessary supplies and courage to carry out your plan.

The day finally comes, the day you’ll spring into action and take hold of your futures by the ropes, no one but yourselves telling you how or where to steer.

On the most moonlit night you’ve ever been alive to witness, you and Renjun both slip out from underneath your fraying comforters, unbeknownst to the rest of your households. Save for your two restless souls, the entire village is sound asleep, the unceasing lullaby of the tides casting its steadfast spell on bodies and minds like clockwork. Wooden floors so hollow and dusty that they barely creak under your weight, you successfully glide out your respective front doors in silence like translucent spirits.

No one else in the village had even acknowledged the foreign ship’s presence, but this shouldn’t surprise you, not in the slightest. The thick, colorless fog of life had long since settled around the shoulders of anyone and everyone who allowed it to, ensnaring them in a mind-numbing, monotonous routine. It blocks out the sun and the rain, the light and the darkness. It’s all so sickeningly the same. Empty eyes can’t pay any mind to their surroundings. Meanwhile, yours are full of hope, the brightest in the land.

In the distance, Renjun appears as vibrant and sprightly as ever. His form cascades down a flight of stone steps, leading from the sheer hills clustered with homes onto sea-level ground, and glides over the small dunes of sand separating you. He reaches the edge of the beach and your side a minute later, the thump of his heart keeping time with the tides. A nod, and you’re sprinting towards the docks, fingers trembling in excited anticipation.

It isn’t until after you’ve clumsily set sail that you see the ominous shadows of dark clouds laid out ahead, directly in your path. Even in the dead of night, a flash of distant lightning illuminates the world in a harshly jagged blaze for as far as the eye can see, as it strikes some unknown location out in front of the sailboat.

You’re certain the repairs you’ve spent days and nights working on with Renjun will be enough to keep the ship intact, despite the weather you’re sure to endure if you continue on this route. So you press on, missing the apprehension furrowing his eyebrows.

But because every force of nature has decided to convene against you both for reasons eternally unknown, the harsh winds weave their way in between the threads your careful hands had stitched on the canvas, meant to catch the breeze but being torn apart by it instead. Suddenly you’re struggling to hold on to your balance and you feel as flimsy as a leaf in a blustering current of cold, crisp wind.

Perhaps you should have practiced first. Renjun had not yet received a single ounce of training from his experienced father, and it was far from wise to leave the only life you’ve ever known without any knowledge of how to get to your next one. He’s trying to hide his panic now, wavering between the steering controls and warily glancing up at the gloomy midnight sky. One more flash of lightning, and all goes awry, all at once.

The water around you surges, as if physically drawn to the heavens, and more falls from above. Raindrops pelt down onto your arms and soak your hair, drenching the sails and filling the shallow hull almost instantly. Wave after towering wave crashes down, hard, and you’re no longer certain which way is up. About to lose your footing, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your middle like the snug hold of a life preserver.

Before all vitality can be lost and smothered by the raging ocean, a desperate Renjun holds fast to you, your thin clothes clinging to the damp skin of his hands. The storm is just too much, and there’s no way you’ll see the journey through like you had hoped. It’s difficult, excruciating even, to accept, and even more difficult for Renjun to let go of you like this. He’ll fight until the end, fight the fates and the invisible forces that life entails to hold you for just a few more seconds.

He won’t be able to live with himself, even in whatever afterlife may or may not come after the darkness he already sees, feels closing in on him, if he doesn’t sacrifice his last breath for a final moment of bliss, of you.

The sensation of Renjun’s wan lips pressing into yours overwhelms and surpasses all others, his palms tracing the edges of your figure like the tides trace the sandy shore. Urgently he draws you close up against him, trying his best to shield you from the inescapable terror of the sea. A lifetime’s worth of energy and emotion and passion is expended, making up for all the time in the world he wouldn’t and couldn’t have. The tang of saltwater meets your tongue, and you’re not sure if it’s the taste of him or of the ocean.

A weak tug on your palpitating heart, an internal scream in your ringing ears tells you that you should resent him for this, for propelling you forward in your apparently unachievable fantasies of living the life you wanted for yourself. But you don’t, you can’t. It’s no one’s fault, really. With this thought, a peaceful stillness washes over you amidst the chaos, and your awareness of the boy in your embrace fades steadily, slowly, then rapidly. Reality is getting paler, more black and white than ever, and you’re sinking further and further down towards the ocean floor miles below. The faint light of the moon becomes distorted from underneath the water, blurring with your failing vision. It all slips away, and then there’s nothing.

It’s a shame no one in the village takes notice of the two extra stars that blink into existence on that moonlit night, but yours and Renjun’s souls take their place among the rest, both a warning and a calling to anyone who dared attempt what you did. Two guiding lights pointing any other dreamers towards the hope of a better, brighter future.

[hoodoo12]

Under Where?

I hc that, on occasion, Beetlejuice steals women’s underwear. This time, he steals a pair that he is not prepared for.

NSFW (just fyi: includes a picture within the story for a reference)

@thewolfisapartofmysoul @janitor-boy @angelicspaceprince @ironmansuucks @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @beejiesbitch​  @turtlepated​

Enjoy! `

An admitted voyeur and thief, sometimes Beetlejuice liked to root around in your underwear drawer. As he was pretty sure it wasn’t anything you’d be cool with, he did it secretly, like when you were out of the house or in the shower or otherwise occupied. He pilfered a pair of panties every once in a while; you had so many he figured you’d never notice one or two of them going missing. He’d heard you blame the losing them at the laundry mat. 

Today he dug a little deeper--your lacy and fancy panties tended to be buried in the back of the drawer--and he found a pair that was more bikini like than not. Both sides had ribbon ties to hold the front and back panel together, making the size easily adjustable. The crotch felt more stiff than typical, but although he occasionally opted to wear panties, he wasn’t an expert or anything. Maybe that was just the way these were made.

With a giggle like he pulled off some great heist, Beetlejuice stuffed them into his jacket pocket. The panties were comfortable. The panels were stretchy. The side ribbons were soft and although he wasn’t able to tie them into cute little bows at each hip, knots worked just fine. Whatever the crotch was made out of wasn’t perfect. Who designed panties with some kind of hard plastic there? Maybe it was waterproof or something? But with a little junk adjustment so the majority of the stiffness was up in the front against his cock instead of his balls, it was tolerable. 

Pleased with himself, Beetlejuice pulled his trousers back up and over them.  He couldn’t wait till you came home; he could just imagine the surprise on your face when you discovered his secret!

The reception he got when you arrived, however, was less than conducive to fun adult times. The hard set to your face and tight shoulders telegraphed that whatever had happened at work had followed you home. He received cursory pleasantries as greetings, but had learned that sometimes you needed space and time to wind down. Maybe later you’d be more in the mood for a surprise. 

He escaped to the spare bedroom as you disappeared into yours. The opening and slamming shut of dresser drawers made him wince, and maybe tonight wasn’t the best night to whistle blow on himself about stealing your underwear. But it felt so good! It was either silky or lacy, and sometimes it was just a teensy bit too tight, and he liked all that. Especially when it put pressure on his cock, containing it, just . . . like . . . now . . . because he started thinking about it too much and now sported a semi-erect boner. 

There’d been no noise from you for a hot second, and you’d been so growly that he couldn’t imagine you would want to get it on any time soon. He figured it would probably be best to let you have time to cool down. He could occupy himself!

He popped the fly and undid the zipper of his pants. The juxtaposition of men’s trousers and lacy panties was visually pleasing, and he took a moment to simply look down at himself before slipping his fingers under the waistband of the panties. Under half-lidded eyes he watched his dark fingernails disappear into them, suddenly, with no warning, a heavy vibration exploded through his crotch. 

Embarrassingly, he yelped and yanked his hand off himself. Whatever the vibration was, it stopped. Panting as though he actually had adrenaline that could course through his veins, Beetlejuice wasn’t quite sure what happened. He was laying on a mattress. A lamp was on the bedside table, but it wasn’t even on. There was nothing electrical around him. 

Shrugging it off because he didn’t want to devote time or brainpower to working through the mystery, he slipped his hand over his belly and back into the panties. The vibration shook him again.

When his hand left, it took a second for the sensation to cease. 

Cautiously, trying not to think of that cat and what curiosity did to it, he dropped his hand between his upper thighs this time, instead of directly into his groin, like an approach from below would be sneakier. This time he gently cupped himself, and although the vibration returned, it wasn’t such a shock. Satisfaction truly was the cat’s reward. 

He could feel the hard plastic trapped between his fingers and cock vibrating at a low intensity this time, and now that he wasn’t surprised by it, it sent little tendrils of pleasure up into him. 

He gasped, and pressed the curved plastic a little harder into his groin. His cock, still trapped under fabric, stiffened at the new stimulation. His reward was a deeper thrumming, and . . . pulsing! It waxed and waned in a pattern like a heartbeat, da-dub da-dum da-dub da-dub-- Beetlejuice moaned and held his hand tight in his crotch. 

The vibration quit again. 

It took him a second to catch up.

This whole thing would be better if he took his pants off, he decided. He sat up and made to get off the bed, when the panties vibrated stronger than ever before. Involuntarily he fell back sideways onto the mattress, curled in on himself, legs clasped together, his hand shoved back into his groin, crying out shamelessly. 

The sensation shook him. He was used to jacking off, of encircling his cock and applying pressure all around it, and this was nothing like that. It was pleasurable in a different way, and by god, he liked it. 

Keeping his hand pressed up into the seams of his trousers, he stayed on his side for a moment, both to see how the position might work and because he felt immobilized, before flipping to his back. That allowed him to plant his feet so he could rock his hips upward into his hand, into the vibrations, and keep them exactly where he wanted--no, needed--them to be: against the underside of his cock. 

The vibrations tingled up into his groin, settling in his gut. Just as he was getting used to it, just as he was catching his non-existent breath and could just start focusing on thinking about something other than what was happening, the vacillations changed. 

Once again he had no control over his limbs. His legs left the bed and he folded in the middle as the thrumming assaulted his nerve endings in ever increasing waves. It stopped abruptly, making his cry sound pathetic. Before he could collect himself, the pulsing rocketed through him again. He was pleasure tortured over and over and over. Every time he would almost get used to the pattern or the intensity, it would change again. His hand felt stiff from holding that curved plastic tight to his cock, and now his legs trembled in phantom time as well. The soft lace of the panties was stretched tightly by his aching cock. He couldn’t control the sounds that came from his mouth, and he wasn’t going to be able to control just coming soon. 

As a matter of fact--

The point of no return was on him. Using his free hand he stretched the panties off the head of his cock, and with a howl, Beetlejuice came in thick spurts on his lower belly. The vibrations, thankfully, wound down; his cock was so over-stimulated it almost ached. Still, once the final spasms faded and the tail end of ejaculate oozed from him, he dropped the panties back into place, not caring that he smeared them full of come. He lay on the bed with an occasional full body tremor shaking him. The residual bliss that accompanied them made it too late for him to register that you had swung the door open and were staring at him. 

Caught with his hand in his crotch and your panties stained darker with come, he froze. The silence stretched between the two of you. He broke it. “Baby--baby, listen. I can explain! I can explain about this--” he yanked his hand out of his groin and opened it, like that was proving something. “--I mean, these panties are possessed or something, I don’t know what they are, I didn’t mean to--” All his excuses sounded like he was just rattling things off and hoping one of them would stick. 

With dead seriousness, you raised the palm-sized remote control you’d been holding. Beetlejuice’s mouth shut with a snap. He looked at the device in your hand, cocking his head, trying to piece the puzzle together. You silently counted to three and watched the light come on in his eyes. “You were controlling them!” You let a smile cross your face. “Yes! Of course I was! I left these in my underwear drawer for you to find, Beej! Didn’t you think it was weird there was a new pair in there you’d never seen before? Or that there’s a tiny light on the vibrator to indicate it was on?” Sheepishly, he admitted he didn’t notice either of those things. You laughed. He tried to apologize for the mess. You told him they were washable. He praised them, and you. You told him it was a good show, and they were something that could be shared. He couldn’t agree fast enough. 

fin!

[bangtanmythology]

In The Name Of Song. Witching Hour.

Part six: Witching Hour:

Jungkook is plagued with nightmares about a shiny emerald mermaid and maybe they aren’t going away any time soon, maybe, you’re having nightmares about a werewolf that wants to hurt you. 

Words: 1.9K

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It had been 3 days since their little conversation about you and Jungkook and Namjoon was adamant in finding you and bringing you back to their reality. Trouble would be how to find you and the fact that even though it had only been 4 days since you had left for them, it had been almost 6 months for you.

“Just, summon him?” Taehyung’s voice was bold, full of a statement that had Hobi rolling his eyes,

“don’t you think that if I could do that, I would have already done it by now?” Hobi’s eyes were trained on the ceiling, the games console controller heavy in his left hand that sagged off the sofa and hovered inches from the floor. Taehyung was holding a clear bag with the letters AB- written across the front, a deep red liquid disappearing from within, passing through his lips with the curly metallic straw he had shoved through the top of the bag.

“How does he reach out to you normally?” Namjoon sighed, his controller discarded by his feet, his eyes focused on the bright red ‘GAME OVER’ that had been flashing on the television screen for the last 7 minutes. Hobi sighed and Seokjin peered in from the kitchen,

“I don’t choose when he comes you know, he’ll send me a letter, they don’t have a postage address or anything, they just appear and then he gives me a meeting point, which by the way is different every time he needs me, and I just show up there at the date and time he gives me and then wow, he appears, except this time he didn’t send a letter, he just appeared at the allotment whilst I was collecting herbs for my medicines and well, he just begged me to come with him and I went,” Hobi was listing off useless information, falling on deaf ears. His eyes remained glassy and unblinking as he continued to find interest in the swirly patterns of their white ceiling.

“Well, he keeps the peace between supernatural, maybe we just need to have a big fight and he’ll come,” Seokjin was shrugging, one hand on his hip as he wiped the other across the cooking apron that tied around his waist that read ‘HOT MAMA’.

“You say that so seriously as if you weren’t dressed like that right now,” Taehyung was giggling, a red tint to his plump lips as he swiped his blood-stained tongue across it. Seokjin rolled his eyes,

“I’m making chicken casserole, we need Jungkook to eat something, I thought maybe he’d enjoy that,”

“He’s not home, and another thing, I think he’s a true alpha,” Namjoon hadn’t slept since he was told the youngest pack members eyes had ‘glowed red’, especially since it was only possible to become an alpha if your pack dies or you’re a beta and the alpha dies. Namjoon would never forget the day when he became an alpha. His brothers, his whole family had been killed, cut to pieces at the hands of a witch.

“what the hell is a true alpha?” Taehyung now had a blood bag with the letter ‘A+’ written across it, this had been his 4th one of the day.

“A true alpha is someone who doesn’t need to climb the ranks, they don’t need to lose their packs, they don’t need to kill their pack to become one, they are destined to be one, they are born as an alpha. It’s extremely rare and the alpha gene doesn’t take control of someone unless they kill someone who is innocent, that’s the only way that they can become their true alpha selves, they’re more powerful than any other alphas, it’s a 1 in 500 chance,”

 Jungkook had been running for hours, panting, his body aching and wanting to give way, a feeling of fear embedded into his brain. He had left in his wolf form, sitting outside the pool house for 20 minutes or so, waiting for Y/N to come back. He had not remembered changing back to his human form, he had not remembered coming back to the forest, he had not remembered anything. He had woken up 40 minutes from the house, covered in blood and dirt, the blood smelt human to him, and he knew he had hurt someone, the feeling sinking into the lowest part of his heart.

For days he had been plagued by nightmares, green emerald eyes piercing holes into his face from the intensity they held as they stared at him, pain stricken and cold. Every night he would reach out for the person and he would be consumed by a wave of water, engulfing him and all he could see was a bright emerald tail with gold fins swimming away from him. He knew it was her, his mate, Y/N. Nightmares about your mate were not normal, they did not happen to any of the other werewolves he had spoken to who had found their mates. He knew something was wrong, the group of 4 women that chased him, shouting gibberish words that pierced through his ears and caused a vice like sensation to shoot pain through his head.

The world span, the leaves and trees blurred into his eyes, green and brown and then all black. His knees met the solid ground, cutting the exposed flesh and his hands came down to steady him, palms digging into the sticks and stones beneath then, his nude body collapsing onto the dirt.

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, what, you actually want us to have a full-on fist fight?” Hobi muttered, standing face to face with Taehyung whose eyes were glowing crimson and fangs were on full display, an unpleased look apparent on his beautiful features. Seokjin nodded eagerly, his face lighting up at the prospect of finally summoning the fallen angel.

“That won’t be necessary,”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“I’m not the devil, what childish things do you all come to just to get me here,” Yoongi was shaking his head, eyes glaring at Namjoon who just stared at the floor, embarrassed that his thoughts had been heard by the shorter male.

“Well, we were going to fight to bring you here but apparently you’re already here,” Hobi felt dejected, his shoulders slumping as he threw himself onto the dirt of their back garden.

“I’m here because your youngest pack member, who I have left on your living room floor by the way, is having some witch problems and soon enough he is going to lose all control, if I hadn’t stepped in today then he’d be dead,” Yoongi was glaring at the 4 men that stood in the garden, blank stares and creased brows on each of their faces.

“what ar-“

“A witch had gotten a hold of Jungkook’s dream sequences, she’s been plaguing him with the same dream for almost a week now, she’s a direct ancestor of the witches who cursed the ancestors of his mate, who I’m sure you already know is a mermaid called Y/N. Now, Y/N is a siren, you know what, I do not have time to explain everything again. The point is, said witch found him whilst he was out today and she brain washed him, she had him go inside of a house and kill an entire family, he has no memory of this, and I cleaned everything up so you don’t need to worry about anyone sniffing around. They were inside his head, killing him slowly from the inside out when he did not immediately become an alpha. The problem here, which is a problem for him but a great thing for all of us is that he cannot become a true alpha unless he has his mate by his side. So, for your own protection, I will not be bringing Y/N back, she’s going to act as an anchor to him however, we need him to be able to control the power he has before we can even consider such things,

He needs to train, his body won’t handle the power he has, however, with his mate sickness it’s going to get extremely hard for him, you need to do whatever you werewolves would usually do when it comes to training another one to be an alpha,”

_______________________________________________________________

“Why is Yoongi always disappearing just when we need him?” Jimin groaned, legs swinging over the side of the cliff, the clear water 15 feet beneath him glistening in the bright sun. Y/N laughed and sat up, grass stains covering her hands and elbows and she pushed herself to stand and lean her knees on her brothers back.

“We don’t need him, he didn’t help me when I learned to swim using my tail, he didn’t help me when I first learned to use my voice to lure the men in, he didn’t help me when my siren took over and I almost killed the whole ship full of men. You and grandma were the ones who had done that,” Y/N was carding her hands through the top of Jimin’s hair, curling small strands through her fingers and he sighed.

“I know that but you heard what people are saying about the witches, do you think we can take them on with just swimming powers and the ability to manipulate water?” Jimin groaned as he leaned back, pushing Y/N onto the heels of her feet. She quickly lost her balance and fell back, head landing on a pile of daisies Jimin had pulled from the ground, as Jimin quickly leaned back and rested his head on her thigh.

“Okay, they’re powerful but we are so strong when we work together, we can do it Jimin, we’re not weak, we sunk two whole ships last night with a huge tsunami, I’m sure if we have to we can kill 3 witches.” Y/N was staring at the sky, something that had mesmerised her since she had arrived her almost 8 months ago, the sky was always a hue of purple, pink and blue throughout the day and became a dark crimson, evil red at night.

“How have your nightmares been lately?” Jimin asked, eyes trained on the pink cloud that passed slowly over their calm bodies.

“They’ve been getting worse, I keep getting scared Yoongi will find out about it, I don’t want him to worry about me, I keep just seeing this same werewolf that I always saw near my pool house, except in my dream he turns into this boy with red eyes and he has the snarling teeth, they’re not fangs, they’re just like the teeth of a wolf but he’s so angry and out of control and he charges toward me and just attacks me, it’s so scary,” Y/n was mumbling, a shiver raking through her body as she remembered the saliva coated teeth that were bloody and on full show as they charged towards her.

“Why do you keep dreaming about it, I mean from what you told me it was clearly after you, it wanted you because it would sit there and watch you, what do you think it wants?” Jimin was now turning his up to look at Y/N’s face, despite only being able to see the underside of her chin and jaw.

“Clearly it wants me Jimin, but someone else is causing these nightmares and I want to know who it is,”

[so-i-dont-forget-again]

So I Don’t Forget Again: A Breath of The Wild fanfiction

Entry 42: Dueling Peaks

 While writing my last entry I was interrupted when I spotted something bright red. I raced to the shore and saw the red thing was actually a person! They managed to cling to the shore, and I helped drag them out of the water. He didn’t look very injured, but just in case I quickly got him into the tunnel. He was mid-way through thanking me when he abruptly stopped and yelled “Bossa Nova!” then scrambled towards the Capybara. After checking the creature, he asked if I had helped his friend. When I said yes, he kept thanking me over and over. He then stopped again and asked if I’m a Hylian. When I nodded he looked relived and introduced himself.

He is Sidon, the Prince of the Zora. He’s like Kass in that he’s mostly two colors. He’s bright red but his underside, like his face, chest, stomach, and inside of his hands are white. He’s at least twice as tall as me. Height wise I reach the top of his stomach. Like Bossa Nova he wears mostly silver trinkets with those glowing gemstones embedded in them. All intricately designed. A belt like thing, arm cuffs, leg cuffs, shoulder armor pad things, necklace and a head thing with a dark purple feather attached. The necklace also had a fluttery white thing. Two yellow ropes, one shorter, one longer connects from his right shoulder thing to under the white fluttery thing. He also wears a dark blue sash with silver threaded embroidery. It reminds me of my Champion tunic. He doesn’t appear to wear anything else, aside from the beautiful silver sword attached to the belt thing. He’s very fish like. Has a fish tail protruding out from the back of his head and a blue and yellow fin on each arm. He also has sharp teeth and a bright infectious smile.

After introducing himself he asked for my name. I think that’s the first time anyone’s asked for that. He said that Link is a fantastic name, but he couldn’t help but feel that he’s heard it somewhere before. He spotted my equipment and asked if I’m a warrior. He was ecstatic when he heard my reply. He said that as the Zora prince he has an eye for talent and that he had a really good feeling about me. He said that he hated to ask more of me since I had helped him and saved Bossa Nova, but he needed help from a Hylian warrior. He explained that the endless rain was coming from the Divine Beast Vah Ruta, which is located in the Zora’s domain. The only way to stop it is to take control of it, but to enter the Divine Beast one would need shock arrows. As an aquatic people the Zora get seriously injured from electricity and can’t go near them which is why they needed someone who could wield them without getting hurt, a Hylian. He added that if Vah Ruta isn’t stopped soon, all of Hyrule would be trapped in an endlessly expanding storm and everything will get flooded and destroyed.

I agreed but asked how we were going to get there. Traveling through a thunderstorm would be too dangerous for a Zora; despite his size even he couldn’t swim against the raging rapids while carrying everyone so we could get there quicker. There weren’t too many options. Prince Sidon declared that our only option was to brave the storm. I had the Prince and Bossa Nova remove their metal things and place them in the leather saddle bags so they wouldn’t attract unwanted electricity. I also lent a thick blanket to the Prince. I don’t know if it’ll do much, but I hoped it’d provide as some sort of deterrent for lightning.

After that we set off. It was getting darker so I knew it’d be night soon, and when that would happen it’d be pitch black. We hurried as quickly as we could, but we were only able to get to the Dueling Peaks. Unfortunately, a horde of Bokoblins, and Lizalfols were camping out in the only place that provided any decent protection from the storm. I told the others to stay back as I went ahead. I snuck up as closely as I could before they noticed me, then I swiftly took a wooden sword and shield they had laying around and jumped into battle. The Lizalfols made the battle a bit of a challenge. They have multiple ranged attacks and I could only deal with so many opponents at a time. The only light there was came from a small campfire. What’s worse of all is that they had a few metal weapons. The battle somehow got into the storm. I got distracted when that blinding lightning struck one of the metal carrying Bokoblins and a Lizalfols managed to stab my right arm. As I was fighting off the Lizalfols Prince Sidon rushed in and began to fight with one of the wooden weapons that was not being used. Once the battle was over the Prince spoke of how impressed he was with my sword skills, but he was quite troubled about my injured arm though.

I think my healing capabilities work differently than I had thought up till now. My entire arm hurts, and it feels almost as if it’s being crushed by boulders again. Prince Sidon insisted on bandaging it, but I kept telling him it’d be a waste and that’d I’d be fine. This went on for a while. I told him about my healing ability, but he made the point that since we currently have no food my arm needed to be bandaged so it wouldn’t get infected or bleed out. At that comment I gave in. I think I rely too much on my healing ability. If I didn’t have it, I’d surely be dead by now. I ought to be more careful.

There’s grass here for Friend and Bossa Nova so at least they can have a good meal.

Currently everyone’s asleep, well, except me. Maybe I should sleep too, after all, I’m not sure about how my healing works anymore so maybe the same goes for sleep. Yet at the same time, I can’t help but worry there being a sudden attack, or lightning, or something else that could put us in danger, so I’ll at least stay awake tonight to keep a watch out...

Truth be told that’s only one reason. The other is my arm. It feels so hot and like it’s throbbing. I don’t think I can carry a shield or anything else with it. At least I can still feel it this time, and it’s not numb like the last.

I’m also not sure where we’re going, beyond here is just valleys and hills as far as the eye can see. There’ll be almost no shelter beyond this point. I’m not even sure where the domain is, I sure hope the Prince knows, because I don’t have a clue

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[thefinalcinderella]

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 2 - The Mountains of Hakone are the Steepest in the World (Part 1)

I’m back for real this time! I’m aiming to finish this novel during the summer, hopefully that will happen.

Also I made a Ko-fi

Full list of translations here

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Kakeru jogged ten kilometers each morning and night. It was a habit of his since high school.

At the time of the summer tournament in his second year of high school, when his body was readied and he was doing the most training runs, Kakeru had forged a record of thirteen minutes and fifty-four-point-three-two seconds in the five-thousand-meter race. This wasn't just astounding for a mere high school student, but also a plenty popular number for Japan's track athletes, and various universities got in touch with Kakeru. Moreover, since he was still in his growth period, everyone wanted him as a promising athlete who could leave good results. That was until Kakeru, who had committed an act of violence, quitted his high school track and field team.

Kakeru had no lingering regrets or attachments whatsoever to running while carrying his school's name on his back, much less leaving records on the world's grand stage. It was more enthralling to run freely while feeling your whole body cutting through the wind and moving forward. He got bound hand and foot by the expectations and ambitions of an organization, and was tired of being managed like an experimental body everyday.

On the day he set the five-thousand-meter record, he felt ill in his stomach. Because it was a battle that included health management, there was no use making excuses about this and that later. However, for the sensation Kakeru was feeling, it was that he felt that he could still run faster. His record could be reliably reduced to less than thirteen minutes and forty seconds for the five-thousand meter run.  

Even after he quit the team, Kakeru continued to train on his own. He wanted to finally reach the world of speed that still hadn't been witnessed yet. The flowing view. The sound of the wind that slipped through his ears. At the moment he ran five-thousand meters in thirteen minutes and forty seconds, how would his surroundings be reflected in his own eyes, and how much blood would his body let boil? No matter what it took, he wanted to experience that unknown world.

Wearing on his left wrist a watch that was crammed with the function to record time, Kakeru silently ran. Even without a coach to instruct him, even without teammates to compete together with, Kakeru had no doubts or hesitations. The wind that touched his skin taught him. His own heart was shouting, you can still run. Even faster.

Several days have passed since he had come to live in Chikusei-sou, and he was just about able to get the hang of the faces and names of the residents. Whether or not that brought calm to his heart, his legs fluidly kicked at the ground during that morning's jogging.

There still wasn't a lot of people on the one-way street that was lush with greenery. Occasionally, he would pass old people walking their dogs and salarymen heading towards the bus stop in the early morning. As Kakeru hung his head down slightly and stared at the white line, before long he was following the jogging course his body was beginning to get used to.

Chikusei-sou was located in a snug and traditional residential area located between the Keio and Odakyu lines. For large buildings, there was pretty much only the Kansei University school building. For the closest station, there was Chitose-Karasuyama for the Keio Line, and Soshigaya-Okura or Seijogakuen-Mae for the Odakyu Line, but it was somewhat far to any station. Since it took twenty minutes or more to walk, there were many who took the bus or rode their bikes to the station.

Of course, Kakeru did not use vehicles even to go to the station. Running was faster, and it became training. Thanks to being asked by Kiyose to buy groceries from the nearby shopping district, as well as running alongside the twins who pedalled a tandem granny bike to go and take a look at the bookstore in Seijo, he became more knowledgeable about the surrounding geography.

Kakeru decided on several jogging routes. They were generally narrow roads with not a lot of traffic and where groves and fields remained. There weren't a lot of chances for him to enjoy the scenery as he ran at tournaments, but during normal jogging and practice, he occasionally idly looked around.

A tricycle placed on the edge of the eaves of a house and a fertilizer sack that fell over in a corner of a field. Kakeru liked observing those sorts of things. On rainy days, the tricycle would be taken beneath the eaves. The contents of the fertilizer sack would gradually decrease and be changed to a new sack before long.

Every time he discovered remnants of the presence of people, he felt ticklish. The owners didn't know Kakeru ran this path morning and evening and had the tricycle and fertilizer sack weigh on his mind. Without knowing that, they spent their days moving and using those things. Thinking that, he felt somewhat delighted. It felt like he was secretly peeking into a peaceful paradise inside a box.

When he checked his watch, he saw that it was six-thirty. He would be going back to Aotake to eat breakfast soon.

As he was passing by a small park, Kakeru was drawn to something he saw in the corner of his eye. Running in place, he stretched his neck and looked into the park. Kiyose was sitting by himself on a park bench.

Stepping on the sand lightly scattered on the ground, Kakeru entered the park. Kiyose still had his head hanging down. Kakeru stopped near the horizontal bars and examined him.

Kiyose was dressed in a t-shirt and worn navy blue jersey pants. It seemed that he was in the middle of walking Nira, as there was a red dog lead placed on the bench. Kiyose rolled up the right leg of his pants and massaged his calf. Kakeru saw a scar that looked like something from a surgery extending from his knee to his shin.

Kiyose still hadn't noticed him, but Nira, who was playing in the breaks in the shrubbery, dashed to Kakeru's feet. There was a disposable shopping bag with droppings tied to his neck. Nira sniffed at Kakeru's shoes with his wet nose, and then perhaps finally convinced, wagged his tail vigorously.

Kakeru stooped, and stroked him so that he was enveloping Nira's face with both hands. It seemed that Nira was unable to control his excitement at seeing a familiar face outside, as he let out a wild breath that was close to a dry cough, like an old person with dried candy stuck to their throat.

At that sound, Kiyose finally looked up. He awkwardly lowered his pants leg. Kakeru called out "Good morning!" to him in a purposely bright voice and sat down next to him.

"Do you also walk Nira, Haiji-san?"

"I also run everyday, so this is just me taking the opportunity to do it. This is the first time we bumped into each other."

"I was getting tired of it, so I'm changing my route little by little."

Kakeru felt that he was aiming at shortening the distance between himself and the other person. It was like he was casting ultrasonic waves into the sea and trying to search for the outlines of fish with the reflections.

"…Are you running for your health?"

As soon as he said that, Kakeru secretly clicked his tongue. This was like intending to release ultrasonic waves but firing a torpedo instead. The fish might get scared and hide themselves in the deep sea. They kept their secrets in their bellies, let shine their dorsal fins and dived deep. Feeling impatient, Kakeru was the only one in a hurry. He was utterly sick of his personality of only able to directly say what was on his mind.

However, Kiyose didn't seem angry, only wearing a smile of bewilderment that bordered on resignation. Kakeru, who realized that he couldn't do strategy or tasteful leading questions, silently waited for Kiyose's move. Kiyose gently touched his right knee from on top of his pants.

"For me, running isn't for my health, nor is it my hobby." Kiyose stated plainly. "I think it's probably the same for you, Kakeru."

Kakeru nodded. If he was asked "So what reason is it?", he would be at a loss to answer. However, he wondered why he couldn't write "jogging" in the hobbies section of a resume submitted to part-time jobs no matter what, for example.

"I got injured in high school."

Kiyose took his hand off his knee and called Nira over with a light whistle. Nira, who had been walking carefreely around the park, immediately went to his side. Kiyose bent down and attached the dog lead to his red collar.

"But it's almost completely healed now. Now I know that my perception and speed are returning, and running is fun."

From the time he saw the scar, Kakeru somehow or other understood. Kiyose, like himself, was someone who was seriously pursuing running. Him desperately chasing him on his bike the night they first met was because he was deeply interested in his running.

Nira, with the dog lead attached, incessantly pulled on Kiyose to tell him to start walking now. While stopping that, Kiyose asked Kakeru, "What about you, are you coming back now too?" Kakeru leaned on the back of the bench and opened his mouth after hesitating for a while.

"Did you introduce Chikusei-sou to me because you saw that I also did track and field?"

"I chased you because your way of running was incredibly good." Kiyose said. "But, I took you to Chikusei-sou because I thought you were running so freely. Someone like a shoplifter was running so happily that it sent something like that flying. I really dug that."

"Why don't we go back now?"

Kakeru stood from the bench. Kiyose's answer did not hurt him.

The morning atmosphere, which was coming alive in earnest, was surging into the deserted park. The horns of the cars driving on the main street. The sound of a mailbox being opened and closed from a house somewhere to get the newspaper. The presence of people briskly heading to work and school.

If he took them into his lungs all together, the blood with increased freshness would circulate all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Kakeru left the park with Kiyose, and then they began running again back to Chikusei-sou. It was something Nira also understood well, and he steadily ran ahead. The sound of Nira's claws repeatedly scratching at the asphalt implicitly became an indicator of the speed of the two. For Kakeru, it was a pace that was markedly slower than his usual. However, he didn't mind that even a little bit. Kiyose, running beside him while holding Nira's leash, certainly seemed like he had a thorough understanding of how to carry his own body. It was a run that could only be realized from running every single time and continuing to put in the effort diligently.

"Hey, Haiji-san," While running, Kakeru asked something that he was curious about. "Why did you make Nira carry the bag?"

"It's annoying to hold it."

Kiyose answered as though it was nothing. There was never any hesitation in his words.

Even so, Kakeru thought, sympathizing with Nira. Even though he's an animal who possesses a much more excellent sense of smell than humans, to have his own waste products dangling before his nose, isn't that pretty painful for Nira?

Taking little notice of Kakeru's worries, Nira continued to run smoothly. His coiled brown tail was shaking over his behind, as though keeping a rhythm.

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[the-odd-job]

Nature Calls

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Category: Other Fandom: Transformers > Merformers Characters: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker Relationships: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker Additional Tags: Mating Cycles/In Heat, Captivity, Aliens, Aquariums, Captive Mers, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Twincest, Mutual Non-Con Words:  2583

Reproduction had to take place. That was the prime dictum of life.

His body was screaming at him.

Mate, procreate. Continue his lineage, write his name into the history and future of their species through his offspring. Pass on his genes.

Whatever you wanted to call it. He wanted to fuck, needed to have someone stick it in him or do the same to someone else, if you wanted to be crude about it.

Being crude about it was about the only thing he had left. There was no sugarcoating the need anymore. It was all consuming, hijacking his thoughts day and night. Hormones coursed through his bloodstream and drove him next to mad with restlessness that had nowhere to go.

He needed to go, to Gather, find everyone else of their species and sate the desperate need to reproduce with a mate of his choosing. That was the one and only purpose of this time of the year. Really, of their whole lives. Make sure his legacy continued even when time, sickness, or predators got the better of him; wasn’t that the whole point of living?

And his body was telling him to do just that, right now. 

That had been the state of affairs for several days now. Only problem was, there was no Gathering.

There were only four walls, the floor, the platform, and the ceiling with its bright lights high above.

And there was only Sunstreaker. His brother. Not a potential mate.

His body didn’t care about little details like that. It didn’t care that there was nowhere for him to go, that any direction he swam there would only be an obstacle that prevented him from going further, that there was no one he could quell the need with.

It just burned.

There should’ve been a long migration to the atoll, taxing but intensely rewarding. 

Instead there was just a circle.

No way out.

Four walls. A floor.

Round and round.

Round and round.

Round and round.

He wasn’t sure if the humans had noticed the difference between their usual bored swimming and… This. This frustration that drove them into trying their hardest to fulfill their instincts, in vain. There was nowhere to go, there was never anywhere to go. Sunstreaker would lash his tail out of the water, creating impressive splashes before diving as deep as the tank went. He’d run into walls, hit them with his hands or his tail, like that could crumble them and let them out.

It was impossible not to sense the tension in the water, thick enough to almost turn it solid.

Sideswipe just swam. Round and round, trying even in the smallest manner simulate the journey he was supposed to be on.

The courting. He’d never participated in it before, but he knew what it was. He still remembered the year of his birth, watching mers flit about, chasing after each other until one gave up.

He was old enough now. First year that he was, this one.

That was what he was supposed to be doing. There were supposed to be mers as far as the eye could see, potential mates, potential partners, thrilling chases while they tested each other and tried their strength in titillating games designed to pry into the suitability of the other’s prowess.

What was there instead?

A tank too small, and Sunstreaker.

And if he wasn’t handling it well, Sunstreaker was handling it even worse. He was already the more high strung of them, easily agitated.

Add to that the incessant need and their total inability to do anything about it, and he was downright explosive. 

It was never fun to share the space with him. Now it felt downright dangerous—moreso than usual, anyway.

He’d done his best to stay out of his brother’s way, but despite his efforts he still carried scratches from the times when it all boiled over into vicious claw strikes and bites aimed at soft flesh. They hadn’t gone at it seriously, though. It didn’t feel right. This time of the year was, for all intents and purposes, about love.

Not about fighting.

He didn’t feel proud of the fact Sunstreaker had red marks on his body too, some fresher than others. Yeah, he hadn’t taken any of it without returning some of it, but it wasn’t right.

None of this was supposed to be happening.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it for. Rationally he knew its duration was finite, that he only needed to last until the short season came to its end.

But rationality was in short supply, even for him. Sunstreaker had even less of it left. He was a coiled bunch of muscles, appearing incapable of relaxing even for a moment.

He’d barely slept. Neither had Sideswipe, but Sunstreaker hadn’t done it even as much as he had.

He had to be tired. Sideswipe for sure was.

And yet neither of them could stop swimming, Sunstreaker lashing out at inanimate objects every other chance he got, just to dispel some of the restless energy the both of them carried, one that they couldn’t direct where it was supposed to be directed.

Into courting and mating. That was what it all came back around to. 

How much longer? The lights shut off for another artificial night, the humans left, and still the need raged on. One more day? Two more days? A week? He wasn’t sure, but even the shortest duration felt too long.

He couldn’t take it. Couldn’t.

But he had no choice.

Heaving one breath after another, Sideswipe broke from his constant counterclockwise circle in favor of heading to the middle of the tank, lowering himself to the dimly lit bottom to try to catch even some sleep, while Sunstreaker kept circling the outskirts of their home. He’d probably do that for the whole night. And the day after.

And after that too, for however much longer this lasted.

Sideswipe wanted to cry, to air even some of the sheer frustration crushing down on his chest, but he grit his teeth and held back. He curled up on the warm floor, hugging his tail to his chest and pressing his forehead against it.

Just a little while longer, hopefully. He could do this.

He had to.

He hadn’t the time to doze off before he felt the ripples in the water that signaled Sunstreaker was approaching. Sideswipe glanced up just when Sunstreaker came to him, and he reached out his hand to invite his brother over.

They’d barely had any time together since all of this started, too caught up in feelings that only had negative outlets. He missed the feeling of his brother’s scales against his.

Maybe he could have some of that now, while they waited for all of this to be over.

“Sunny,” Sideswipe said softly when Sunstreaker took his hand and flicked his tail to glide the rest of the way over, aided by Sideswipe’s pull on his arm. Sunstreaker didn’t say anything, but pulled him into his arms. Sideswipe melted against his chest, closing his eyes and sighing quietly.

He’d missed this.

Sunstreaker was hotter to touch than usual, but Sideswipe suspected he was the same. It didn’t matter. Sunstreaker was still tense, but he wasn’t bleeding violence all over the place, which gave Sideswipe hope that it was all going to come to an end soon. Maybe things were on the downswing, finally.

Sunstreaker held him, and Sideswipe fell into a fitful sleep, hoping Sunstreaker would follow. They both needed the rest.

It wasn’t very restful rest, but it was better than nothing.

He didn’t know how long he was out for before Sunstreaker’s voice woke him up. “Sideswipe.” It was strangled and pained and kicked Sideswipe straight out of his sleep. His tail jerk reaction that Sunstreaker had somehow gotten injured seemed foolish, but he didn’t know what else could have caused a voice like that either.

Sunstreaker’s hold on him had tightened, which wasn’t unwelcome, but was a little unexpected. “Sunny?” Sideswipe asked, peering up at his brother’s face.

His twin’s hold tightened further. “I can’t- I have to- I can’t.”

“Can’t what? Sunny?” Sideswipe frowned, trying to pull away to get a better look at his brother.

Sunstreaker wouldn’t let him, his arms tightening around him and holding him in place. That was a little weird, but it wouldn’t have been too alarming on its own if he hadn’t felt something brush up against his tail just then.

Something that wasn’t Sunstreaker’s tail, or any of his fins, or his arms.

Sideswipe stiffened instantly, dread rushing to meet him like the maw of a dreadjaw. “Sunny?” he asked again, voice thin, trying to wriggle free from Sunstreaker’ hold. It was no longer welcome, but Sunstreaker wouldn’t let go of him.

His tail twitched, and Sideswipe could feel that something brush up against him again.

He didn’t want to look.

“Sunny. Let go of me,” he said, forcing his voice to be calm despite the quickly rising panic. This was bad.

It only got worse when Sunstreaker merely growled, a sound that was in no small part possessive. 

Sunstreaker moved his tail again, this time with more purpose, humping against Sideswipe. Panic won over and he twisted, hard, to break free from Sunstreaker’s embrace. He shoved his arms between them, pushing at Sunstreaker’s chest to drive him off of him, and Sunstreaker did break his hold.

But only to grab his wrists instead.

Sideswipe screamed in frustration when his arms were yanked up and back, Sunstreaker forcing him back against the floor. He tried to use his tail to flail free, but Sunstreaker pressed down on him, transferring his wrists into one hand and using his newly freed arm to grab a hold of his hip instead.

His claws instantly pierced through his skin, hooking under to keep him in place despite his wiggling.

And Primus but Sideswipe wiggled, doing anything and everything he could to break Sunstreaker’s hold on him. Nothing worked. Sunstreaker’s grip on him was bruising, and he couldn’t get the leverage to break free. All the while Sunstreaker worked his tail against him, twitch by twitch, rubbing that damned thing to his underside.

And too close to places he wanted nowhere near it.

Breathing hard, Sideswipe finally hazarded a glance down his twisting body, just to confirm what he already knew. Sunstreaker’s erection was fully out from his slit, and mere inches from Sideswipe’s.

He moaned. Sideswipe fucking moaned despite himself, fear temporarily drowned by primal need.

He hated himself for it instantly. “Sunstreaker,” he pleaded, but Sunstreaker hardly seemed lucid, and Sideswipe was getting a frightening taste of what his brother was going through as his body arched against his own wishes, brushing up against Sunstreaker’s member to the tune of a reverberating growl from the golden twin. His slit was opening in response to the promise of sex, heat flushing his body from head to tail tip.

But he didn’t want this. Primus, he didn’t want this.

“Sunstreaker, please. Please, please no!” Sideswipe begged even as Sunstreaker’s arms tightened and he held his hips in place long enough to line them together. It didn’t matter how much he tried to move away, Sunstreaker’s aim was unerring when the tip of his length nudged into Sideswipe’s slit, and he thrust all the way in at once. “No!”

Sideswipe screamed. It didn’t hurt, and that hurt worse than any physical pain could have.

This is wrong.

That was the one thing he did know even as his body moved with a mind of its own, drunk on the fact the need was finally being seen to. He groaned as Sunstreaker began to move, ecstasy lighting up his nerves and making his body rock back against his brother.

His brother. His own damn brother was fucking him.

Sideswipe sobbed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to fight, not when everything about him sighed with relief that he was finally doing what he was supposed to be doing. Mating. He’d put it off long enough.

He never wanted it to be like this.

Sunstreaker pressed down against him, still holding his wrists above his head, though it was doubtful that would’ve been needed anymore. His body reciprocated the act without any hesitance, convinced that this was right and good. How could it be wrong?

Procreate.

He didn’t want this! Not here, not with his brother. He cried out when Sunstreaker shoved in particularly deep, pleasure making his tail flail for more. He’d never in his life felt anything better than the just now, with Sunstreaker’s member opening him up over and over again, the perfect snug fit for his slit—none too big, none too small, filling him up just right…

The heat in his body reached its unexpected tipping point without a warning and Sideswipe bucked up with a surprised cry, his whole body stiffening and grinding itself against Sunstreaker, impaling himself as deeply as he could. Sunstreaker hissed above him and hunched over, humping once, twice, before he thrust in deep for one last time. Sideswipe could feel a burst of heat deep in his slit and misery almost ate him alive right there and then.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

How could this happen?

Sunstreaker slumped over him, panting to the same rhythm Sideswipe was as their bodies climbed down from their twin climaxes. His grip on Sideswipe’s wrists loosened until Sideswipe carefully pulled his arms free.

He could’ve pushed Sunstreaker off of him. Probably should’ve. Clarity was quickly returning now that the accursed hormones were retreating, satisfied that the most important task of the year had been fulfilled, and Sideswipe felt…

He wasn’t angry. He couldn’t be when he knew firsthand the kind of torture Sunstreaker had been through. That he himself had been through.

Maybe this had been inevitable all along. Maybe they’d just been putting off what couldn’t be avoided.

Reproduction had to take place. That was the prime dictum of life.

What had made him think they could escape it just because of the circumstances they were in? Just because they were trapped together with no one else around? Just because they were siblings?

They were old enough now. They’d had six years free of that regulation, too young to partake.

But that was over now.

Sideswipe bit his lip, his breath hitching. Sunstreaker stirred above him and carefully pulled out. Sideswipe twitched at the retreat and the emptiness that followed, and hated, despised the part of him that already missed his brother’s length.

It didn’t belong in him, not in him, but a part of him whispered that yes, yes it did. For as long as they were alone here, yes it did.

Sunstreaker drew in a deep breath and Sideswipe’s attention shifted to him just when his brother shook his head, likely clearing the last remnants of his rut. His eyes came up, full of sorrow when they met Sideswipe’s gaze.

And Sideswipe’s heart broke, for both of them. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sunstreaker repeated, releasing his hip and bringing his bloodied claws to Sideswipe’s face instead, cradling it in his palm. Sideswipe closed his eyes and nuzzled against it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered to every apology, wrapping his arms to Sunstreaker’s shoulders and pulling his brother back down over him, seeking that touch and reassurance. He wouldn’t let this come between them. He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

What had they been reduced to?

-----------------------

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Norton & Constantine Pt 1

The following are excerpts translated from the Novel about Norton and Constantine. This was... a lot longer than I expected so I’m splitting it in two.

These only include areas where Norton (No. 13) and Constantine appear together. Other references are omitted.

Please enjoy!

------RONALD TANG’S DREAM----------

“Brother...”  Someone called softly in the darkness

It was really annoying! Who lost their kid?

“Bother.” The child called again.

Annoying, annoying, annoying! There is no ‘brother’ here!

“Brother... Then I’ll go.” The child whispered, his voice gradually growing silent.

Suddenly, he couldn’t bear that lonely, fading voice. It invoked the sight of a child’s back, slinking away like an abandoned hound.

“Okay, okay, okay! Which street and what house number do you live at? What’s the name of your unreliable brother? I’ll take you home!” He turned over and sat up.

A child dressed in bright white, like a camellia blooming in moonlight, sat on the floor in the sun, holding a writing case and making a long stroke.

“Hey, you’re not leaving? Are you kidding me?” He wanted to say, but he didn’t.

Instead, he did what came naturally. There was a plate of green grapes on the table. He picked a small bunch from it and handed it to the child across from him.

The child raised his head, his eyes flashed with panic, like an alert cub, “Brother, there are many people outside.”

Huh? He thought it was very quiet.

The next sentence also came naturally. “Maybe you will die? But, Constantine, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid. When I’m with my brother, I’m not afraid... but... why don’t you eat me? Eat me and you can break through any cage!” The child said seriously.

Eat you, he thought. Although you are very white and tender, it does not mean you are better than hamburgers. I just ate a hamburger for lunch and I’m not hungry.

“You are good food, but that would be too lonely. For thousands of years, only you and I were together.” He said, jokingly. “But death is really sad. It’s like being sealed in a black box, forever and ever. Pitch black, like reaching out in the dark and never touching anything.”

Looking at him, the boy’s clear pupils flashed in anticipation.  “The so-called destiny of the abandoned clan is to cross the wasteland, raise the battle flag again and return to our home. Death is not terrible, it is just a long sleep. Before you can swallow the world, it is better to sleep peacefully than to walk alone. We will still wake up.”

“Brother, if you raise the the battle flag and swallow the world, will you eat me?” 

Damn it! Is this a stage play of a drama between loving cannibals? These family ethics are really strange!

The child poured a glass of water from the pitcher, handed it to him, and he drank it.

“I’m leaving, brother, goodbye.” The child stood up.

He wanted to say that he was not his brother and you’ve got the wrong person, but he just casually said, “Goodbye, be careful. Don’t believe any humans.”

Again with the strange, bored lines.

The child went out and closed the door behind him. He listened to the child’s foot steps getting farther and farther away, until, finally, they completely disappeared.

Suddenly, he felt nervous. He thought he was getting faint. What would happen if such a young child got abducted because he let him go off on the street? He didn’t know how far he had to go to find his brother. He became restless, and when he finally couldn’t help it, he got up and ran to the door.

He opened the door, and the blazing light shone on his white clothes, not sun light but firelight. The city has been burning for days, charred human forms run crying in the fire. Thousands of arrows fall from the sky and a huge sign reading “Baidi” falls and turns over. It’s hell.

At the center of the city, there is a tall pillar. The child is hung on the top of the pillar, eyes closed, the flames of the city burning him.

It’s like a grand sacrifice.

It hurt so much, like the cut of a knife. This important person was lost because he made a mistake.

He suddenly remembered something and realized he was truly the brother of that child.

He called out his name. “Constantine!”

He sat up abruptly, opening his eyes in the afternoon sun, short of breath, covered in cold sweat all over. The noise of an elevated light rail passed him by.

He suddenly found the sound so pleasing to his ear, reminding him that everything in his dream was fake and that he was in an ordinary world

--------RONALD TANG ENTERS CASSELL----------

“Brother...”

No. 13 was taken aback. He was walking in a dark corridor, illuminated by the light of the phone screen. At this moment, he heard the faint sound of people talking in front of the class.

He hurriedly lowered his body and covered the phone screen with his palm, so that the corridor was completely dark. He moved a few silent steps so that no one could tell his location without an infrared night vision device. Only the hum of the fan remained in the corridor, repeating at a steady frequency.

“Did she get it wrong?” No. 13 thought.

He was proud to be a master in the bounty hunter’s line. He accepted all manner of strange cases and performed beautifully. He has never felt so strange as he did today. Since entering this campus, he has had auditory hallucinations. Every time he walked around in a quiet environment and listened to his footsteps, he would mistakenly think that someone was speaking in front of him. At first, he ignored it. He didn’t realize it was weird until he left the crystal clear shadow girl and the beer-drinking man. Because after he entered the tunnel leading to the “ice cellar”, the strange voice became clear. He was underground and except for the ventilation system, there was no gap for sound to penetrate.

No. 13 slowly straightened up, and stopped using his phone for light, turning it off. He touched the wall of the corridor with his waist and walked forward. 

“Brother....” This time the voice came from behind him, as if someone sighed nearby.

No. 13 drew out the saw-barrel shotgun, turned around and pointed it behind him. According to his heroic or rough character, he should have shot this person point-blank, regardless of whether he was a man or a ghost. But he was too nervous this time. God knows why, but he felt like this sound was very familiar. As familiar as when you lived in an airport as a child, listening to planes taking off and landing every day, and the sounds of jet engines put you to sleep.

He couldn’t remember where he heard this sound. It was like a bubble floating from the depths of his mind. it was very familiar and it had a dream-like, black sweetness, which made him a little drowsy.

“Who is it?” he asked.

No one answered but the hum of the exhaust fan.

No. 13 scratched the back of his head, regretting taking this assignment. He was hired by regular customers, who had taken care of his business many times over the years. No. 13 trusted these people very much, so he agreed without much thought. In the past, he took assignments like exploring a desert tomb or a sunken ship in the ice sea. Every place sounded more mysterious the this Cassell College, but this time things became more and more strange. He lost contact with the other people for no reason. At the beginning,  there was a series of strange encounters. Although his nerves were steady, and he still believed this college is just a gathering place for a group of board game lovers who love living out fantasies, he felt he had underestimated their IQ. Walking in here was like walking into a maze.

--------------RONALD TANG FALLS INTO THE ICE CELLAR AQUARIUM--------------

No. 13 slowly turned around and saw a pair of eyes he size of ping-pong balls staring at him curiously a few meters behind him. It was a very authentic great white shark.

Probably in order to prove to No. 13 that he is a young shark with great bite force, the great white shark opened its mouth, displaying thorny teeth.

No. 13 glanced desperately at his hand. This was the most unlucky day in his life. When he fell, his hand scraped against the gate and it was overflowing with a faint red color. Everyone who has watched the “Discovery Channel” program knows that sharks are crazy when they smell blood. As long as it smells blood it will pounce on a piece of wood and No 13 is good eating.

“Brother...” The young boy’s voice echoed around him.

“Please, don’t tell me it’s you calling me?” At the end of his life, No. 13 actually thought this world was so funny as to let a shark be calling him.

A strange expression suddenly appeared in the shark’s blood red eyes. This was the first time that No. 13 felt that he could see the expression in the eyes of a fish. The shark slowly closed its mouth, swinging its fins and tail but it was not advancing but silently retreating. As the distance between it and No. 13 lengthened, it turned around and dived into the water at high speed, plunging into an artificial rock cave. Immediately, a bloody red mist gushed from the rock reef cave and then a big dead fish was thrown out.

No. 13 didn’t understand what was going on. He could only read the shark’s eyes. It looked at him in fear and then slowly disappeared.

He didn’t quite understand what was going on. The shark seemed to be terribly afraid of him. and took the big fish’s nest and hid himself.

--- THE AWAKENING OF CONSTANTINE--

A great chill fell on everyone heart. They realized that they were prematurely optimistic. “Two echoes...” Someone whispered.

“A cavity...” Someone said.

The internal structure of the copper tank was clearly revealed. The inside of the copper tank is divided into two halves. In one half is the curled up skeleton of what appeared to be a human being. The other half is empty.

A disturbing crack is just above the cavity!

“Something... escaped from it!” Someone’s voice began to tremble.

“Why?” The principal asked in a low voice.

No. 13 wondered as well, why all these people were suddenly so quiet.

At this moment, he is laboratory assistant wearing a mask to prepare dissection equipment. His journey has been so smooth. After walking around the ‘ice cellar’ for a long time, he entered what appeared to to a laboratory. In this area, he saw a group of men taking a shower, in an lively discussion about a copper jar. In the heavy steam, no one could see each other’s faces, so No. 13 took off his clothes and stepped in to shower with them.

More than a dozen naked men walked about in the vapor and when they past him, a few even greeted him. 

After bathing, they took out sterile suits from sealed plastic bags and covered themselves head to toe. They were tightly protected, as if they were going to the virus laboratory or going to walk on the moon.

No. 13 realized that this was his perfect opportunity so he knocked out a guy about his height, took his ID card and pinned it to his chest, and put on his suit.

When he entered this sealed glass laboratory, he took off his mask to drink a glass of champagne. He was that casual. When someone gave him a cart full of dissecting equipment, he lightly examined it while people around him applauded. No one paid him any attention to him, entirely focused on the brass jar in the glass enclosure.

“Regardless, the autopsy should continue.” The principal raised his hand. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I can’t wait any longer to obtain this important data.”

The researchers began to applaud again, and the principal’s calm and determination under the unexpected was always convincing.

“Is all the equipment ready?” The principal asked.

No. 13 hurried to raise his hand. He pushed a trolley made of synthetic materials on which the nano-material transparent scalpels, saws and scissors, as well as other unrecognizable tools were displayed.

“For safety’s sake, only the person responsible for the dissection enters, and the others are responsible for recording are to stand outside.” The principal turned to No. 13, with an expression of expectation, “Ready?”

No. 13 can only nod. He doesn’t know what a Dragon King is, but he is sure that the knowledge of anatomy of frogs he learned in high school biology class wasn’t enough for him. Fortunately, he stuffed his saw-barrel shotgun and a few soaked ammunition clips under the sterile suit. This game him a little more confidence.

In fact, he really wanted to turn around and walk away. It didn’t seem like he was strong enough to move the copper pot alone. with a glass wall on the outside and a quartz glass cavity inside, he could only see the indistinct shadow of the copper pot, which was not enough for him to accumulate enough materials to go back and claim the 5 million dollars.

The principal patted him on the shoulder, and the hatch leading to the low temperature laboratory inside slid open, and the white gas evaporated from the gushing liquid nitrogen. The principal put on his mask while No. 13 shivered.

He walked into the cryogenic chamber, and all he saw was white, with bright blue flickering lights all around. In the center was the oval quartz glass chamber with a huge copper tank and liquid nitrogen vapor under his feet.

For a moment, he had the illusion that he was standing on the endless snowy field and heard a low call from a distance beyond his sight, “Brother.”

“An egg...” No. 13 thought, “Brass Egg.”

Would such a report be worth even 200 dollars? No. 13 is a bit hesitant. The money seemed too good to be true.

In the quartz glass cavity, there is a jar with a brass texture and a dark green patina on the surface. He can just make out an engraved pattern of a double snake guarding a giant tree. The outer wall was originally completely closed, bu there was a gray tin-colored place above it and there was a black hole that seemed to be corroded out.

But it was much like an egg.

There was no doubt that this was his goal. The smell of medal rust in the air started to become stifling. The strong magnetic field made a loose screw on his watch fly out and cling to the quartz glass cavity. The out wall began to quake. No wonder this lab is made completely of glass! There was no metal anywhere!

Dozens of eyes behind him watched him. Sooner or later they would figure him out. No. 13 thought quickly. “What the hell is this? This is worth 5 million dollars for its information?”

“No, what they’re after isn’t this copper jar... but what’s in it!”

“No wonder that the instructions said to observe with my own two eyes and if it’s broken, look inside!” No. 13 made up his mind. He tore off his lab coat in full view, and leaped on to the exam table and peered into the gap. 

The black gap was like a well of time.

“Brother, there are many people outside.”

“maybe you will die? but Constantine, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid. As long as I stay with my brother I’m not afraid. But why don’t you eat me? Eat me, brother, and you can break out of any cage.”

“You are good food, but that would be too lonely. For thousands of years, only you and I were together.”

“But death is really sad, like being sealed in a black box, forever and ever, pitch black. You reach into the dark and never feel anything.”

“The so-called destiny of the abandoned clan is to cross the wasteland, raise the battle flag again, and return home. Death is not terrible. It is just a long sleep. Before we can swallow the world, we expect to ravel alone. It is better to sleep peacefully and wait to wake up.”

“Brother... when you raise the flag and devour the world, will you eat me?”

“Yes, then you will be with me, and you will come to the world!”

No. 13 felt dizzy. “Who is...talking?”

It seemed that he was really standing by a well, listening to the people in it. In the dark of the well, someone looked up at him. The well was deep, and he felt like he might fall in at any moment.

“Damn, why is this kind of second-rate stage play lines again?” No 13 looked away and felt a little cursed. Things that are this old might be cursed. Fortunately, No. 13 never cared about strange objects, but before this one, his heart was beating wildly.

“All those who are in front of the army are in front!” After reciting this sentence in bad Chinese, No. 13 pulled out the shotgun, turned and pointed it at the stunned group of researchers outside the tempered glass. "Hands in the air! Unless you want to die!”

The principal was stupefied for a moment, and immediately raised his hands. He seemed to be an old guy who understood the current state of affairs. The researchers’ eyes were full of disbelief but they also raised their hands after the principal.

“Alright, I’ll add a sentence to my report that says that when I looked inside... it was as if someone was looking back at me.” He thought to himself.

But that should have been impossible. Under the low temperature of liquid nitrogen, even if there were bacteria inside, it would freeze to death.

“I’ll just treat it as a high school gym class and just do it.” No. 13 kicked opened the door of the cryogenic chamber.

A researcher suddenly lifted the transparent plastic cover on the console and pressed a red button inside with one hand.

“Dragon Invasion in the secure area! Invasion!” A stern girl’s voice echoed in the air.

The reinforced outer cover outside the quart glass cavity behind No. 13 was fastened tightly, twelve valves sealed at the same moment and a large amount of liquid nitrogen was injected into it.

“Are you calling the police? Is this a convenience store robbery?” No. 13 was very annoyed by the situation.

He should have put the saw-barrel shotgun against the researcher’s forehead and blasted him with a single shot. But he was still a little dizzy and every bullet was soaked when he fell into the aquarium. So he stepped forward and kicked the guy and then took down seven more researchers. Taking advantage of the chaos, No. 13 turned and ran out of the laboratory.

“Stop him!” The principal shouted. 

The researchers came to their senses and swarmed outside.

At the same time, in the water above the aquarium, No 13′s lost phone suddenly turned on. 

“No. 13 if you are not dead right now, then you should be close to the target. Your target is a brass pot, about 1.8 meters in height and 1.2 meters in diameter, with a corroded gap above it. The last instruction is to open the gray tin bottle and pour the solution through the gap. Once this is completed, the bonus rises to 10 million US dollars.”

The water eventually penetrated the phone’s battery and it stopped working forever.

In the shadow of the cryogenic hatch, a person sighed low. Everyone had evacuated and no one noticed him in the chaos. “And just like that, the mission failed? This young man is really unreliable.” He said softly.

He walked out of the shadows, picked up the tin bottle left by No. 13 and walked into the quartz glass cavity. He inserted a black card into the card slot on the console.

“This operation will cause the opening of he Dragon’s Egg. Norton, the King of Bronze and Fire may wake up. Operation prohibited! Operation Prohibited! Operation Prohibited!” Norma’s voice echoed over the laboratory and a warning alarm blared. Red lights rolled through the entire lab.

“Keep quiet, Norma, this is the time for us to witness a miracle.” The man lowered the valve and cut off the communication between the entire laboratory and Norma.

With the main power supply cut, Norma’s voice disappeared, the lights went out one by one, and only the alarm is left, the red lights rotating.

The crimson of the warning lights flow in the dark, like lava, like blood, like doomsday.

These light up the expressionless face of the man.

The temperature rises rapidly, the high-speed rotating electron flow in the superconducting magnetic field attenuates, and the suspended quartz glass cavity slowly dropped down. The twelve sealed valves unlocked at once and a huge amount of white steam was ejected. The reinforced outer covered opened.

“With my bones and blood to the great Majesty, Nidhogg. He is the supreme, the most powerful and the most virtuous existence, destined to rule the whole world.” The man stretched out his hand to touch the quartz glass chamber and felt the vibration coming from it. The vibration became more and more intense.

“Good, you didn’t make me wait too long!” The man drew his knife from his sleeve. A sharp blue knife mark was left in the glass wall. The vacuum inside was broken, and screaming air poured in. The man cut the neck of the gray tin bottle with a knife and aimed the break at the crack. The gray tin-colored liquid followed the knife mark into the quartz glass cavity and circulated along the inner wall of the glass like a thin snake, away from the central copper tank, as if afraid of it. But s more and more liquid entered the glass cavity, this ash stream began to boil and bubble with a rustling and peeling sound, like a living thing.

the man put the knife in his sleeve and left the cryogenic laboratory. 

He looked back at the door for the last time and all the gray tin solution flew away from the inner wall in an instant and ‘pounced’ on the copper pot. When the two touched, a violent corrosive effect appeared, and the indestructible popper can is like a piece of softened cheese melted in a microwave, emitting a dark green mist.

An indescribable low growl echoed in the cryogenic laboratory, anxious and manic.

“Welcome back to the world, Constantine.” The man closed the door.

TO BE CONTINUED..... @mechaspirit

[nightfury-2001]

Okay can I rant for a bit about Toothless’ new ability and how disappointed I was with it and how it actually really bothers me (HTTYD 3 criticism below, if you know you might be upset by that then I’d suggest not reading this)

While I certainly think there are much bigger issues in THW, this was something that personally really disappointed me. 

At first, I wasn’t happy when I saw that Toothless’ was getting yet another flashy new power. I thought it was super unnecessary, especially after already giving him a new powerful ability in the previous film. Like do y’all really need to make an already pretty OP species even more OP? also skrills exist

But hey, maybe it could actually turn out to be kind of cool. Maybe this would tie into his supercharged mode/dominance display thing from the previous film and help explain it, with him unlocking and learning how to use its full potential? Maybe it would truly show us why Night Furies were called the “unholy offspring of lightning and death itself”, and/or tie back into that obscure lore from promotional material for the first film that said Night Fury eggs hatch during thunderstorms? Maybe it would give us an amazing scene where Toothless, angrier than he’s ever been before unlocks an ability beyond even the power he discovered in HTTYD 2, swoops down from the storm clouds and assaults Grimmel’s armada, lightning crackling over his scales and along his split dorsal fins with an epic remix of “Two New Alphas playing in the background as- okay I’ll stop there as I think y’all get the point lmao.

Sadly, that wasn’t what we got. Instead, we got something that...doesn’t seem to be very well thought out. At all.

The first issue I have with it is that there is no reason that Night Furies need the ability to cloak. They’re naturally nocturnal, stealthy creatures that can blend into the night sky due to their dark coloration. They’re also more armored than Light Furies and seem to be bulkier overall so they’d be harder to take down in say, a physical fight. So really, why do they need to cloak? Even if they were spotted during the day, the ability itself seems to require storm clouds to be nearby so they can actually channel lightning to cloak...which means they could use the storm clouds to camouflage themselves without the need for cloaking. Not to mention it seems to last a few seconds at most and also seems to require a great amount of energy as it causes Toothless to almost faint the first time he does it, making it not quite as useful as it may first appear to be.

The second issue I have with it is that the way it was introduced makes little sense. So, the Light Fury leads Toothless into a thunderstorm for...some reason. She then attempts to teach Toothless how to cloak, he fails a few times so she growls something at him, then through the power of wanting to smash Toothless somehow manages to figure out he can channel lightning and that’s how he can cloak. What? Was that growl the Light Fury gave supposed to be her telling Toothless how he could cloak? Did she somehow meet other Night Furies before Grimmel killed them all even though she’s supposed to be Toothless’ age and see how they cloaked themselves? Did she learn about it from another dragon? If she did, how would she even communicate it to Toothless in that one simple sound, especially considering dragons are apparently supposed to be just wild animals? Her behavior beforehand also makes it seem like she doesn’t know Toothless needs to channel lightning to cloak, and most importantly she seems to be pretty confused after he does manage to cloak himself so really, how did Toothless figure out that he could channel lightning and that that was what he was supposed to do to cloak? Why did the Light Fury lead him into a thunderstorm since it seems like she really didn’t know how Night Furies cloak themselves, basically putting them both in danger for no reason? I know some of this may seem pretty petty and nitpicky but seriously I’m bothered by this. I can’t figure out what the people who made this scene were thinking!

The third issue I have with it is that the scene where Toothless electrocutes the Deathgrippers also doesn’t make much sense. Firstly, it breaks my suspension of disbelief a bit to see Hiccup completely unaffected by basically getting struck by lightning. Sure, he’s covered in armor made from Toothless’ scales but he’s still a human and doesn’t have all the adaptations I assume Toothless would have to help him handle that. Secondly, Grimmel seems rather shocked when Toothless electrocutes his Deathgrippers...even though this guy apparently killed all the Night Furies except Toothless and thus should know all about them and their abilities. Did he really never see any Night Fury cloak themselves/channel lightning before? He would have had to have hunted experienced adults that knew how to cloak/channel lightning so he really shouldn’t be so surprised. Thirdly, it seems like the filmmakers wanted their cool Toothless scene so badly they made it so the Deathgrippers were somehow able to catch up to him despite Night Furies being the fastest dragon species, and made it so somehow none of these incredibly dangerous dragons who have most likely hunted Night Furies before manage to injure him at all even though it took him quite a bit of time to get the lightning to strike him.

The fourth issue I have with it is that it makes the Light Fury less unique and makes her design make even less sense in universe, and lastly the fifth issue I have is that it makes it less believable that Toothless’ automatic tail lasted so long without maintenance.

Wow this ended up being longer than I thought it would be lmao. I know this probably shouldn’t bother me so much and like I said I feel like the film has much bigger issues but I still wanted to make a post talking about why I’m so bothered by this, even though it’s rather minor. Maybe I wouldn’t be so bothered by it if the ads/trailers weren’t super misleading for most of the lead up to the film’s release, being purposefully cut to make it seem like Toothless would channel lightning to power up his blasts/do something way cooler than cloaking...

[charmed-asylum]

The Partners

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 6

Summary: Finn Cox had everything boy would ever dream of a hot cheerleader girlfriend, loved by everyone, and caption of his hockey team. So why is since Camille Dawson step into his life he starts to have second thoughts about everything

FYI: I can not believe we are finally hitting the climax of this love story. Finally coming back up to present where we left our lovesick Finn. Things are gonna go good to great HOLY SHIT back to dang it. WARNING: it's OVER 5K 

✨ The Partners: 1/  2/ 3/ 4/ 5  ✨ // Master List 

tagged:  @weapinggwillowss​ @nottherightseason​ @strangerfictions​  @thewolfswriting​ @ hauntors 

Finn waited outside The Mouse for her. His hands in his pocket old brown leather jacket zip up. The breeze sways his thick chestnut brown hair around with the smell of pine trees. He checks with Will she had nothing. So no excuses. With the past few days she was less like herself when they were together she didn’t speak much. Then there were the long moments in the bathroom. Silent moments.

She walked out around 2:50. Fifty minutes past her schedule. She didn’t realize he was there at first. Her hair was loose in front of her eye like the way it uses to be. Holding her brown apron with The Mouse logo, a little mouse and squirrel, wearing dark denim jeans and a vintage tour t-shirt. “ This is a plot twist" Camille said walking up to him. Finn smiled at her whit. “ Come on. Today I’m the driver. I check you are clear. Will out on business. My dad at work fine” Finn said taking her things. She rolls her eyes and taps him on the shoulder. “ I’m sure you are not gonna tell me what this is about for real or where we going” Camille says walking next to him to his car. She stops by the passenger door for a second. The breeze play with her hair. Finn got in and pop the door for her. “ I won’t bite come in” Finn said. Camille shocks her head and got in.

The music was playing loud booming “ Remember our third work meeting. We were still getting to know each other. I had practice and you came by. I couldn’t stop working so you got out on the ice" Finn started to say. “ For the first time” Camille added. “ Yes. On the ice with your two left feet. You kept falling but kept getting up again and again” Finn said looking at her. She turns towards him and smiles. He loved how determined she always is. “ Finn Cox you better not bring me with the Ice Box” Camille said seriously. He stops the car got out and open the door for her. A big sign that looks like it came out from disco 70s. He stood behind her and look off blindfolded. “ You said one day I’m gonna get you back. Now we gonna see. Each Friday they have good music skates and a lot of glow sticks” Finn said with a bright smile. One way into her heart was always glowing sticks. One of the many weird facts he learns during their time together.  As they walk inside kids everywhere parents following them with pop in one hand and shoes in another. Camille's eyes were bright but her body was still she just look around. Dazed.

“ My parents when they were alive they brought me here. a few times.  I completely forgot about this place” Camille said looking at a pinball machine. Eyes glitter with silver. Her phone started to ring. She glanced at it,” Take it 12 hours I don’t want it. I’m all yours".  Finn looks at it and turns it off. “ My mom used to take me here too. Hey, you think we might have been game buddies. I know all the cheats to all the games" Finn ask handing her rollerblades. “Probably" she said with a grin. They paint each other face with glow in the dark face paint and went out to the rink. She was right she was good. She glides and spins like a leaf flying gracefully in the air on a fall afternoon. Finn followed her around in around. Holding onto her hand he stops her. “ So gonna tell me what wrong” Finn asked. She turns to him and continues to skate. “ No. I’m fine. So story behind your mom bringing you here” she said still skating backward. Fin let go of her hand and went to hold onto the side for a break. Camille stops and skates back towards him. “ My parents had me late in life I was the oops baby. She would bring me here and we skate around play as long as I wanted. Me and her time. Then at the end of each time while we sip cherry temple in crazy straws she would ask me to talk and I would and go on and on and she listens. Kinda like what you do” Finn said.  Camille hops on the side and rubs his bicep gently. “ Can you get me two cherry temples demand the crazy straws and kept the change for the games? “ Camille asked a passing a kid hand over a 50. “ We got the drinks we got the glow sticks. Now tell me how your day” Camille said, Finn. He hated how good she was this it was her day and still she was made it all about him. She waited with a smile. Till he was ready.

They continue laughing as they toss the balls up. Camille laughs and holds her hand to her face. “ No no, I can top that. So in college freshman year. When people found out I was from Alaska which as you know I move here. So I am from somewhere else they always ask stupid questions. One was who are you? What are you? I would go what do you mean what am I.. I’m a girl. They are like no. What are you” she stops and got another 100 points this time not even looking. “What would you say” Finn ask into the story. Holding the ball in her hand she looks at him and said,” I say I am not what you think what your mind simply places me. I am more than meets the eye. More than face value. My father was part of the Alaskan Athabaskan till he ran away looking for better and in time he meets my mom. Gorgeous Puerto Rican. They always then ask did you live in an igloo” Camille said in a wonderful fake British accent. Finn drops the ball on the ground and look at her then started to laugh harder. “ We gotta go. We got somewhere we gotta be let’s go“ Finn said grabbing her hand. She stops and frowns. “ But I’m winning” she said. “ Come on you like it” he said pulling her away giving all their tickets to a little kid with pink tails.

They pulled up to airplane runway far back by the woods. Finn hops out with his hands in his pocket waiting for Camille. She looked around and then at him. Taking her he holds her tight. “ I got something but you gotta trust me” Finn said with his head on top of hers. She looked up to him and tickle him off. “ I think I’m balls deep my friend.I’m at the no turning back so what the hell blinds me again” Camille asks. She trusts him with no-fault headfirst he was the same way she could ask anything and he will do it with at a thought.

Finn had a hookup thanks to a parent. They fly high in the sky, dark glitter sparkle night the same as in her eyes or her smile. Camille smile and look out the window by Finn's side. “ When I was done you gave me a spot. Worst place in my life. You were there. I just wanted to show you a place we both can go to” Finn said looking out. Camille looked back at him then out at the stars. “ Where we going” Camille asked. His eyes glisten against the stars his heartbeat to the sounds of nature around him. “ You see somewhere magical"  Finn said hold Camille's hand.

She waited by the wooden lodge as Finn finished up with the pilot. The breeze hit her face softly with the wind blowing against her hair. “ All my time I never did this. Come on we got a few hours" Finn said running inside with the bags. Camille casually walks in behind him. “ You going to tell me how you got this. I wanna pitch in” Camille said going through her wallet. He stops by the front desk and took her wallet from her wiggling it in his hand before pocketing it. She sighed and continued to walk beside him. “ Will pay for it alright" Finn said ringing the bell. Camille sat against the wooden desk and face the lobby. Finn rang it once more. No one. She pulled at her sweater and walk around by the fireplace.

He wanted it to perfect but he didn’t account the fact it wasn’t gonna be clear. She tried to make him laugh to feel better. There he was supposed to be and again it was her at the end trying to make him feel better. She talked him into checking out the game room down in the basement as an adventure. They spent hours talking, Finn talking more Camille of course listening. Watching TV even getting a glimpse of the light show that dances across the sky. He wasn’t the boy he was before and she wasn’t the girl, they were more. Still, they didn’t know yet but they were different.

After some sweet talking Camille was able to sweet-talk her way back for her phone. He wanted to tell her that night he wanted to kiss her delicious sweet angelic lips as they watch the sky. Holding her small waist sweet smell of heaven and ice cream swinging her back and forth as the old music from the record player play. He wanted all of that but there was one thing she wasn’t his.

Finn knew he had to deal with it. That feeling he had probably always had. He had her every day of every week for at least two months. The time he enjoyed every bit of it.

Camille song of the day was a one-hit-wonder from the 80s. She even got him into it this time. Singing off-key with her. “ I can’t believe it. After all these years you talk me into coming with you here” Camille said pulling into the parking lot. Finn was thrilled now finally first time in ever he had complete control in something he knew hockey. Picking up his backpack and bag of supplies he walks beside her into the rink goofing around.

“ The kids gonna flip. They think we are dating. You know. Our little new boy talks you up. Rest well went off with their little brains" Finn said taking out the equipment. She sat on the wall and watch him. “Don’t we all when we so young. So what on the plan today coach" Camille said kicking her feet as she watched. He stops and looks back giving her a huge smile. “ No I’m gonna have a bit of fun. Come on help before they show up” Finn said tossing a rag at her.

They came running like they were all going through a sugar rush. Finn was the big prize they all wanted to win. Camille giggles at this till the kids realize she was there and attack her on the ice. He laughed so hard that a bit came out. “ So Miss. Dawson gonna help us out a bit today. And maybe if you good enough and ask a whole bunch of times she come back” Finn announced in front of the kids. Each of them cheers and pulled at her shirt. I’m gonna get you back so hard Camille mouth to him as she smiles at the kids.

It was nothing but an unusual game of hockey boys with Camille and girls with Finn. Shockingly Camille and her team weren’t so bad. In the end, they all enjoyed themselves. Being silly with the kids. Bit eat my ice chips bickering from one another when the kids were not looking. A few slips and falls thanks to the one and only Camille. 

Camille stops midway tickling Sarah when her phone started going off for the fifth time. She glanced at it and turn it off once more. “Everything okay. It might be Will or something" Finn said picking up Timmy into the air. Putting her phone back in her pocket she nods her head no.

Each kid begs Camille to come back when she quickly agreed. “ So I guess I got some competition now huh” Finn said cleaning up. Tossing some rags at him she puts up her hands like a boxer. “ I think I’m ready for you Finno. Those kids shall be mine haha” Camille says playfully. Finn puts his hands up too and pretends to be alone with her. “ No Cam cam they shall be mine. Forever moo haha” Finn said with an evil smile. She giggled and went into a player ready pose, hand out ready for combat.

“ I have to say, sir. Cox. I never thought I would see you be so good with kids. They love you” Camille said driving down the highway. “You didn’t know. I’m fooling them all with my charm for their money and youth” Finn said looking at her. “ Well I’m impressed dear Finno" Camille said. Her phone starts to ring again. “ You doing anything today. We can chill and watch some movies or something “ Finn asked. Camille just kept glancing at the phone not paying much attention. “Yeah why not “ Camille finally said. He clapped his hands with excitement.

                               ________________________

He waited patiently for her arrival. A half-hour she said an hour ago. Everything was ready the movies, sparkling juice, music playing, and the blankets. “ What are you doing having it look like an old 90s boy band music video in here” Dad says as he reads the Sunday paper.

“ Nothing. Me and Cam we are huh chilling today. Movie night” Finn said walking into the kitchen. Dad picked up from his paper. “ Oh. Well, she might be a minute she was outside when I arrived. Upset” Dad said taking a sip of his coffee. Finn rushes past him to the window. Camille, of course, was sitting on the curve hunched over. “I wonder what happened" Finn said peaking out the window. Dad finished with his coffee and the newspaper look out over Finn's shoulder. “ Son if you are to be a gentleman then go out there if not best you stay away. She needs that now” Dad said then left for work. “ You say that like she is your daughter and I’m the random boy" Finn shout out to him. “ Sometimes I feel she is. Remember GENTLEMEN“ Dad said. Peaking back out he saw dad waving bye to Camille.

She sat there silently looking out. Stiff as aboard. No emotions just the dry tears and fluffy rosy cheeks. He never saw her like this. She was always alright no emotions people first. Now she is defenseless variable. Whoever did this Finn wanted to kick them a new one. She looks back at him then back at the ground.

“ I was-" Camille started to say. “ No look. I’m just gonna sit next to you. We don’t have to speak just know I’m what you need Cam” he said sitting beside her. She nodded a bit and look back down. He took her hands and mouth it be okay. Camille holds him tight around his arms and started to cry. Her cry sound like a sad melody playing on a beautiful string orchestra. It broke his heart to hear that.  However, he knew he couldn’t he had to be strong be a gentleman. That right now was to simply sit on the curve in his sweats holding tight and never letting go.

She got up out of nowhere and walk in as if what occurred never happened. “You mind if I borrow a shirt or something I never made it home” Camille said putting the popcorn in a huge red and white ball. It was stunning. If a person never saw her minutes before you would never know. “ Yeah” Finn said leading against the countertops. She insisted they watch his favorites the ones she would usually say no to. They lay close to one another his left arm around the back of the couch, her position in her spot right on his chest with his other hand as a cover for all the scary parts. He kept looking down at her amazed and after a few hours, she fell asleep. He watches her wonder what she dreamed about. Was he anyway in it? Like in his dreams. Even after he got up he watches her peaceful with her phone in his hands. 

The talk was not long. All he could remember was red. Only on the phone with him for five minutes and he already hated him. His I’m from New England or some better than you shit. Prick even had a girl there when he called. A few words till everything went blank and see you there dick. “Such a freakin dick shit” Finn said.

“ You can say that again” Camille said standing behind him. She stood there with sleepy eyes and an old quilt over her shoulders. “ I thought you were sleeping. Just how much you heard ” Finn said worriedly. She smiled and gradually sat down against the wall. “ I woke up. And you were gone. Not much the ending” Camille said looking up to him with her innocent Bambi eyes. Finn was stunned by how she ended up with an 80s cliche dick head. So many questions and statements rush his brain. “ Two questions and a statement “ Camille stated nonchalantly. Shaking his head no,” No ten” . “Five questions and a statement” Camille said pulling at the blanket.

He sat down across from her legs spread out. “ Was he a dick? Why you start to date him? Is he always a dick? Why did you think you deserve that him? Such a fucking dick! Did he make you upset?" Finn blurted out.

“ James wasn’t that bad. Just. He not much an ass as he is just entitled. When we first met he thought I was fish bait till I had a gathering at Will Manhattan penthouse. Then he kept and kept asking till I said yes. I was different from him. It was for 2 years. Years invested. I was everything Finn perfect girlfriend friend perfect everything. His family loves me more than him. So did his friends. You know. I always went to anything and did everything. Just one thing I just wanted one thing. All I wanted was for him to visit. Always with the excuses. Just come see meet Will Eddie you. 2 years I invested into him and only him. I got sick of it so I called it off. He begged and begged. Probably because of Will and Tina never end connections to all things money. That was the reason he kept asking. Like today still, I asked and he gave me no answer. I couldn’t do it anymore. Love should not ever be that hard” Camille said softly. Finn sigh. He kept popping up ways to beat the shit out of this dick.

Finn sat still waiting for Camille to change. “ You mind if tonight we... If I just lay beside you. Hold you a bit. I don’t want to be alone right now” Camille asked hastily. He nods surprise but this request. They lay beside each other with Camille arm wrap around him. He was in heaven when she was at her lowest. All he wanted to do was suck up all the pain anger sadness from her. Kiss her thin lips that she always nibble on and tell her it to be okay. For now, he held her tight and not let go. Shield her from everything.

Dad woke him up eyes wide open mouth to the floor. “ Don’t worry. We did nothing “ he whispered to him. She was fast asleep. He turned to her watch as she sleeps like a baby angel. Moving her hair out her face. His hand rested against his head other holding hers. Without hesitation he reaches in he did it he kissed her gently on edges of her lips.

Slowly opened her eyes she smiled and said,” Good morning". He reached in and kiss her again this time holding her closer. She holds him tight and kisses back. Taste of sweet honey bit of spice and intoxicating. They lay there holding onto each other their mouths moving with one another. His hands split between giving all his attention to her plum ass and cover beast. Her smooth small hands claw onto his back to bring him in deeper. After what felt like hours Camille finally pulled out smiling and giggling like a schoolgirl. “Has anyone ever tell you you are an excellent kisser? “ Finn said holding her hand. She glances his big hands wrap in her petite ones. "Yes" Camille says with confidence. She played with his hair a bit and nibble down on her lip. While he just stares into her eyes in full bliss.

She turned him over and sat up in bed. Rubbing her back he started kissing her again. “ Can't we stay in bed. Keep each other warm” Finn asked. Getting up she kisses his hand softly“ Why can't we just sit. Chill. We don’t know what this is. Or isn’t.” Camille said looking over her shoulder to him. He said nothing. She was right. Even if he didn’t want to hear it she was right.

“ Cam. I’m so happy. Don’t you and I deserve that? Be happy for once Figure it out later” Finn said still rubbing her back. She holds his hand a bit tight. Soft-touch that made him more smitten by her.

“ We do deserve that” she said playing with his fingers. Finn lay on her thighs and play with her fingers till they intertwined. “ Yes. We both do” Finn finally said. He kissed her hand gently and look at her. Taste of cherry blossom jasmine from her body lotion. Her eyes finally meet his. Soulful eyes. The sparkle shimmer. He was forever lost in her eyes her smile. Part of him wonders if it was something or simply reflect. " This summer has been everything I ever wanted. I mean my kids' thing is doing well. I'm gonna be done with my classes soon then I will be able to be back on track. Away from this small town. Before I got hurt. When life was perfect" he says staring at her. Still. She was frozen still. Then slowly she looks at their hands locked together. "Your welcome I guess. I didn’t do much. Finn. Small town....before like what before" she said still looking down at their hands.

He looks at her. Confused. " Don't look at me like that. This town a bloodsucker. Before I got hurt I was on track. Before I was hurt. My life was perfect" he says. She looks at him then back away. 

Plopping side her watch her soulful eyes racing back and forth. Her mouth was a little open. Getting closer he takes his free hand and touches her checks. Then he slowly goes to kiss her. All of a sudden she lets go and starts to get up. Looking back at the now lonely hand she peaks at him then back down. " Don't you feel. Things happen for a reason, Finn. You getting hurt. Being here" she says still looking at his hand. 

Grinning at her he slowly continues her shoulders rubbing them. " Don’t know. Cam Why do you care. We can finally be together. Don't you" he starts to say. She gradually grabs his hand off her. Soft. Turn fully towards him. " You don't mean that. You and your dad are better. You can finally think about what you want. If you never got hurt. We would have never got to see each other. You would of live your life without me" she says breathlessly. Her face was priceless. Shock. Stun. Confused.

Looking at her, " We would still see each other. You would have said sorry about my mom and I would forgive you. Or I- ". She pushes away from him and gets up. " Thought you change but I was stupid. Stupid and foolish. I should have never done this. Never help your dad. Gave air to you. Your the same. How would we ever see each other? Finn. We went years without talking. I have to go before I say something. I won’t be able to take back” she says grabbing her things and throws her shoes on. Was she leaving?  Getting up he grabs her by the arm. Looking at her. She looks away and starts to go.

“Truth is you never ask. Just did. Finn, you were able to go back to life or at less fake it. Me it took five years to fake that night the kiss that year never change me as much as you. You will never understand what you took from me. What you did. Shut I even left and tried everything to fill it. THAT VOILD  Date a guy that thinking about it now kinda looks just like you. Always stay in touch with your family. Being here isn’t the mistake of your perfect life. NO!  it’s you. Act as nothing happens. God, I wish it was that easy and you almost had me believe it. That it can be. Your five years and a kiss late to tell me. You miss me” she continued to her car. She stops look back at him tears starting to come down her cheeks “I wish it was easy to hate you but I know that deep down I couldn't ever love someone as I did with you like I still do. And it's unfair not only to us but to everyone else. I can't ever move on because you ruin it for them too” She said grabbing her keys out her purse leaving her wallet on the ground. He starts to run down the road after her but stops three blocks down.  SHIT

Walking back to the house he stops and picks up her wallet. Mad at her being foolish stupid and selfish. He grabs the first bottle of alcohol from the kitchen. Slam the door to his room he starts drinking and playing loud music. Kicking and screaming her names as loud as he can. He threw the bottle against the wall. As he picks up the broken pieces he grabs her wallet from the ground. Slouch over with her wallet in his hands. He opens it. Debit card, some black credit cards, a few business cards, school id, driver license, and whop money. Stopping mid count. He saw the picture that was taken their last day in the photo booth. It was worn out. He was as numb as a rock. Looking down at this simple happy time. Knowing what happens after that last frame. But even worse the next day. Grabbing out his old leather wallet behind the money, phone numbers and condoms was the same photo. Numb. Of emotions.

I was wrong. I was wrong and now I think I might mess up for the last time. I thought my life end when I got hurt. But it has been all along. The day I left her behind. Pussy out of everything. Sitting there realizing what I did. What I had to do.

I look back out at the house. My heartbeat goes faster and faster with each minute. I should have told her been truthful with her. Fix it before it’s too late. Breathe.

The run to Camille's front door felt like walking in quicksand. I bagged on the door as hard as I could, calling for her. Nothing. So I walked over to where her room use to be. Trying to look in. Nothing. I called and called for her. It can’t end like this.

“ You need to stop” Will said standing behind me.

“ I need her. Come on Will get her for me please” I begged him. He was upset which means Camille probably said a little bit and ran to her room.

I ran over to the back hopping over the fence to see if she was by the treehouse. NOPE. I knock and knock hoping she answers before Will catch up.

“ Just stop. Don’t you even understand what all this been like for her? What mess you left behind. Finn, I love you like a son I am never going to have just don’t come back” Will said holding his cellphone.

I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to stay until she forgives me. But the words he said left behind. It stuck to me. Echo in my head though my blood. I didn’t realize that. Till now.

“ Just huh tell her. I love her. Tell her I need her. Please “ I beg to him. He looked at me and I knew. He wasn’t gonna tell her. I couldn’t be mad because if my daughter was in there cry and some jackass said what I said I probably do the same and kick his ass for thinking so. “ Just go. Finn. Maybe. Just go” Will said then walk back inside. I watch as he walks back inside. I swear from the corner of my eye I saw her peaking from her window.

Each day for the rest of the summer I sat in my car waiting for her. Waiting. Hoping she would see me. Instead, she simply left. My dad finally after hours of begging told me she spent the rest of her summer with her aunt. How can I mess with her so much that she goes with her aunt? The one that handed Will full custody of her when they got divorce with no fight. Camille never came back to Alaska. The house she lived in was sold and given to another family. Will would visit but he wouldn't say a single word to me. I couldn't get mad at him, how can I. He spoke to my dad. But never to me.

She didn't put much on her social media page, probably because she knew I will be looking. I even though I have not seen her I pray for her each night to this day. I think of her when I'm brushing my teeth when I'm with my dad the kids. At first, I wonder if she thought the same.

Probably not. Still, I do. No matter what. Memorize her  Punishing myself with our picture I keep on myself all the time.

[stories-in-the-stars]

That Which Belongs to the Sea

Ao3 links in the reblogs!

Chapter 2

Of Walking, Running, and Dancing Around the Truth

Lance kicked his legs once, then twice, splashing in the water as he did. This was real! He was really human! He was immediately taken up by a fit of silent but elated giggles. He continued kicking his legs, marvelling at the sensation of having them at all. Nearby, Hunk and Allura watched him with less than enthused expressions.

“He’s really done it, hasn’t he?” Allura breathed. “He’s…”

“Human,” Hunk finished. “Allura, you don’t really think he’ll turn into seafoam, do you?”

“I don’t know, but I’m inclined to believe Lotor, much as I dislike it,” Allura huffed.

Lance’s eyes found their frowning faces, and his smile slid off his face in an instant. He tilted his head slightly, starting to move his lips in a question but stopping as soon as he remembered why that wouldn’t work. His question, however, was plain enough.

“We’re just worried, Lance,” Allura told him.

Beside her, Hunk nodded. “Yeah, I mean, if you don’t get this guy to fall in love with you and kiss you, you’ll turn to seafoam—that is, you’ll die.”

Lance waved a hand at them, gesturing at his face and smiling in what he probably thought was a suave manner. It wasn’t particularly reassuring.

“Lance, do you even know where this guy lives?” Hunk pressed.

Lance froze for an instant, but quickly recovered, waving his hands around airily and mouthing the words he was trying to say again. Suffice to say, he did not seem nearly as concerned as the other two. Allura scowled.

“This is ridiculous!” She exclaimed. “You should never have made a deal with a sea witch in the first place! I’m going to find a way to reverse this immediately, and so help me—don’t shake your head at me! This is your life we’re talking about, how can you be so careless about it?!”

Lance gaped like a fish out of water. He shook his head again, his blue eyes going wide and seeming to plead with Allura. Allura recoiled at the pang of guilt that zipped through her, from her heart all the way down to her delicate tail fins. Certainly with her tenacity she could probably find a way to reverse this. Her kingdom had the best kept records of all underwater magic, after all. But then, Lance’s eyes seemed to say, what good would that do? Lance would return to a life he was discontent with, doomed to wonder about a chance he hadn’t been allowed to take. Maybe Allura thought it foolhardy and far too risky, but it meant something far more to Lance, something that Allura might never comprehend, especially if she took this away from him.

Allura sighed. “Alright, alright, I’ll—I won’t undo this immediately. But Lance, please understand, you’re one of my dearest friends, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you forever. Please, at least let me look for a way… just in case? I won’t tell anyone what’s happening this time, I promise. My honor as a princess.”

Lance looked away for a moment, deliberating carefully. When he finally looked back at her, it was with a small but resolute nod. Allura sighed again, this time smiling.

“Thank you, Lance. I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible. Hunk, you’ll stay with him, won’t you?”

Hunk blinked. “How is that even a question? Of course I’ll stay with him!”

“And so will I!” piped a new voice.

The three of them whipped around in alarm, afraid they’d been caught by some human or other. Thankfully it wasn’t just any old human; it was Pidge! Perched on a rock and peering very curiously at Lance, they looked only marginally surprised, but also mildly mischievous. They seemed proud to have snuck up on the merfolk.

“So, you managed to get yourself a pair of legs,” they started slowly.

Lance nodded eagerly, mouth moving leagues ahead of the fastest human ship before he could stop himself. Pidge blinked.

“And… you can’t talk? Wow, two upgrades in one day, I’m impressed.” At Lance’s resulting scowl, they laughed and continued, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But seriously, what on earth is going on?”

Much to everyone’s surprise, it was Allura who explained the situation to Pidge. “He traded his voice to a sea witch for legs. He has to get a human, that human he rescued the other day, to fall in love with him—“

“And kiss him!” Hunk added.

“And kiss him,” Allura amended with a nod. “In three days. Otherwise he’ll turn to seafoam.”

Pidge sputtered. “What?! Lance, what were you thinking?!”

Lance made as though to blow bubbles, only to end up huffing indignantly. He crossed his arms and turned away from Pidge.

“I think he’s done having this conversation,” Hunk translated.

“Fine, fine,” Pidge said. “You guys are lucky I know Keith.”

That got Lance’s attention again. He whirled around with a huge grin on his face. His wide eyes were pleading once more, and Pidge pointedly looked away from him. There was something about his ocean eyes that was decidedly still merm-ish, something that was easy to pass over when he still had a tail, but that seemed startling in the face of a human.

“You don’t have to ask! Of course I’m going to help you!” they insisted. “First thing’s first: you need clothes.”

~*~

To any casual onlooker, the younger prince looked completely recovered from the disastrous shipwreck that had almost claimed his life. How resilient, they praised, how strong. Not that he heard any of these praises of course. No, Keith was deaf to a great many things in the days following the incident, as was apparent to those particular few that were close to him. His thoughts were far more pleasantly occupied.

A gentle touch to his cheek.

Words of longing, spoken so softly Keith could hardly hear them over the waves.

And when he had opened his eyes to the harsh morning light, the bluest eyes he had ever seen were looking at him, sparkling as the ocean might on a clear, sunny day.

Suffice to say, Keith had been dazzled and enraptured, only for those eyes to disappear a moment after he’d seen them. Part of him wanted to believe it had been a dream, if only so he could move on with his life. The rest of his mind, however, was all too convinced it had been real. Someone had rescued him that night. Far from the shore, where the ship had gone down in a violent conflagration, someone had plucked him from the waters and brought him to safety.

At the very least, Keith would’ve liked to have thanked them.

Yet no one had seen anyone on the beach where Keith supposedly washed up. Occasionally Keith caught a knowing gleam in Pidge’s eye, but as soon as he blinked it was gone. Shiro insisted that Keith’s head was just a little addled, what with the explosion and then however much salt water Keith might’ve accidentally swallowed.

So for all that Keith had his suspicions, he kept quiet in the days following the incident. If he took more walks along the shore at odd hours of the day, no one made any mention of it. One gray morning, just as the sky was touched with the barest hint of light, Keith thought he heard something behind the rocks. It was a small thing, almost like a sob, but when he called out, no one answered. He turned to his dog, his constant companion in these days, and sighed.

“I must be losing my mind, Kosmo,” he said.

The dog tilted his head, as if to ask, “Are you so certain?”

Keith was not at all certain, but he was definitely not accomplishing anything by moping about on the beach. He hadn’t gotten but an hour or two of sleep. Some decent sleep might do him some good. He trudged back to the castle, almost having to drag Kosmo back at first--the silly dog was insistent on tramping about in the shallow waters they’d been walking by, for whatever reason.

Keith managed only a few solid hours of sleep before someone was knocking at his door. Something about Shiro wanting him present for the citizen petitions of the day. Kosmo was all energy with springs in his paws, as though he hadn’t stayed up the entire night with Keith. His bright energy got Keith to smile, so Keith couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed in the slightest.

His first thought had been to head down to the kitchens to grab a quick bite to eat. Petitioning hours usually ran long, and it was one of the dullest duties Keith had to attend to as a prince. A few snacks would go a long way in helping him make it through the day. Keith was quite set in his path, stomach already growling, until he spotted Pidge acting quite suspiciously.

Pidge was the youngest child of one of the court diplomats (their other parent also worked for the royal family, as an herbalist), only a couple years younger than Keith himself. The two of them got on quite well, but Keith always got the impression that Pidge knew things he didn’t. More than once he wondered if they were in training to become a royal spy or something of the sort. They would often disappear for hours at a time, returning with a knowing look and sometimes flipping some incredibly old, incredibly rare coin or other. Not once had Keith ever been able to wrangle an explanation regarding where the coins had come from out of them (at least, not an explanation he believed).

As such, when Keith spotted Pidge ducked behind a corner clutching a bundle of cloth, glancing this way and that to make sure they weren’t being followed, Keith decided there and then to follow them. Perhaps part of him hoped that whatever grand secret they were keeping had something to do with his mysterious rescuer. Either way, his curiosity had reached its limit. Whatever Pidge was hiding, Keith was going to find it.

Unfortunately, Pidge apparently had much practice in the art of not being followed. Keith’s status as a prince didn’t help him much either. Once or twice people stopped to stare at his odd behavior, careful as he was being to not be noticed by Pidge. Kosmo behaved himself all the while, staying just behind Keith as they stole after Pidge on their mystery errand. Keith thought he’d have an easier time of it once they left the castle, but on the contrary, he lost Pidge almost immediately. He’d followed them down the path towards the shore when they’d simply vanished.

Keith huffed. “They must be able to turn invisible or something.”

He turned to make his way back to the castle, calling for Kosmo to follow. His dear companion, however, had other ideas. Kosmo’s head perked up just as Keith made to return, his entire body freezing as he sniffed something in the air. Keith knew what was going to happen an instant before it did.

“Don’t--”

Kosmo did anyways. He took off like a bullet down the beach, leaving Keith to shout and straggle far behind him. Every few seconds he would pause to look back at Keith, as though considering whether he should listen to him or not. Every time he decided against it, and just before Keith could catch up to him, he’d sprint away again, tail wagging in huge circles all the while.

“Well,” Keith wheezed as he tramped through the sand. “At least one of us is having fun.”

~*~

Pidge returned red-faced and panting. Allura had already left, leaving Hunk to watch as Lance attempted to take his first shaky steps on his human legs. It hadn’t been going well.

“Almost got caught,” they gasped. “By Keith of all people.”

Lance perked up at that, eyebrows shooting up as he gestured with his hands towards himself repeatedly. Pidge took a moment to catch their breath.

“Much as I know you’d like to see Keith as soon as possible, and as much as I’d like to get you two together sooner rather than later, I don’t think you’d make a very good impression like this,” they explained.

Lance repeated the motion he’d been making with more energy.

“Yeah, I’m a little confused too,” Hunk said. “What exactly is the reason you couldn’t bring Keith sooner rather than later?”

Pidge rolled their eyes. “Well, humans cover their entire bodies with clothes, first of all. It’s considered pretty rude and shocking to run around naked. Not to mention, Lance can’t even walk right yet. You want to make a good first impression, don’t you?”

Lance exhaled sharply through his nose, and then nodded.

“Good, then let’s get you dressed.”

A few moments later found Lance dressed in plain pants and a loose, flowing shirt. He marvelled at the sensation of cloth against his skin, pulling at the clothing here and there at places where it sat a little less comfortably. He was seated on a rock, not yet able to stand on his own two legs.

“Alright,” Pidge sighed. “Now that that ordeal is out of the way, let’s get you walking--”

They stopped abruptly. A dog could be heard barking not too far off, accompanied by the shouting of a very familiar voice. Pidge looked down the beach, then back at Lance. His eyes were wide and curious, and just a tad concerned. Pidge looked for Hunk, but he had already hidden himself. Panicking, Pidge ended up diving behind another rock, just as Kosmo barrelled around the bend and made a beeline for Lance.

Lance had no idea how to respond. The last time he’d met Kosmo, he’d been nowhere near this rambunctious. It was a little overwhelming, if Lance was honest. It didn’t help that Pidge had decided to hide themself, in Lance’s greatest moment of need. Kosmo jumped excitedly at Lance. Lance’s hands fluttered nervously, trying to pet the beast, but Kosmo just wouldn’t stay still! The silly creature clawed at the rock, desperately trying to get up to greet Lance as he had the first time they’d met.

“Kosmo! Come here, you--!”

Lance felt his breath leave him as Keith rounded the bend and froze, eyes locking with Lance’s. Everything around them screeched to a halt. The waves seemed to hold themselves just before crashing against the shore, suspended in the moment as the two of them were. Even the gulls overhead did not dare cry out.

“Oh,” Keith gasped quietly, setting time to it’s natural course once more.

Kosmo bounded back to Keith, shaking him from his silent reverie. He’d been staring, he realized.

“Uh, sorry about my dog, he’s a little excitable,” Keith apologized to the young man who had yet to say a word.

He thought perhaps he was also a little excitable, but something seemed familiar about the man seated on the rock, especially as Keith stepped towards him. Especially familiar was a pair of startling blue eyes that seemed to draw him in like a riptide. Keith was utterly helpless against them. The young man leaned forward, grinning all the while.

“Do I… know you?”

The young man nodded eagerly, and Keith’s heart leapt into his throat. He instinctively took the man’s hands in his, hardly able to speak for excitement.

“I—it’s you! You’re the one! The one that saved me! I knew you were real! What’s your name?!”

The young man moved his mouth, but no sound came out. Both Keith and him deflated considerably. A whisper of words carried over the waves and brushed past Keith’s cheek, the barest memory of a touch reminding him of what he’d seen. Keith looked away, and let the young man’s hands slip out of his.

“Oh,” he sighed. “Then, you can’t be who I’m looking for.”

The young man huffed, and Keith looked back up at him. His eyebrows were knit together in consternation, arms crossed in such a way that made it look like he was hugging himself. It made him look small and vulnerable, and Keith noticed other things—the mess of wind-whipped curls atop his head, the bags underneath his eyes, and the redness of his lower lip (as though he’d been biting at it).

Keith was about to ask the young man if he was alright, when his eyes snapped up again like a crack of lightning, and he began gesturing wildly with his hands, first to his legs in a wiggling motion, then tapping against his throat and then waving his hand away. Keith was completely lost. The man exhaled sharply and began moving his hands with more energy, pointing agitatedly towards the ocean, such that he nearly fell off the rock he was seated on.

Instead of falling to the ground, however, the man fell right into Keith’s waiting arms. Keith had held them out without thinking, and held tighter when the young man struggled to stand on his own. Their eyes met again, and once more Keith was taken by how the entirety of the ocean seemed to be encapsulated within this stranger’s eyes. He blinked out of his stupor before he was staring for too long.

“You’ve--you must’ve really been through something,” Keith commented. The young man nodded slowly, not once breaking eye contact. “Why don’t you come back with me? We can help you out, get you back on your feet again?”

Here the stranger averted his eyes with a coy smile, and nodded again. Keith held tight around the stranger’s waist, while the young man put an arm across Keith’s shoulders. This would definitely raise some eyebrows, Keith considered, but what else was he supposed to do? No, this mysterious (beautiful) stranger needed help, and Keith was more than able (and willing).

In the meantime, whatever Pidge had been up to had been completely driven from Keith’s mind.

From behind the rocks, Pidge and Hunk watched the fated first meeting go surprisingly well, considering. They exchanged gleeful looks with Lance when he looked back at them with an elated smile.

“Why’d you hide from Keith? I thought you knew him?” Hunk asked as soon as Lance and Keith were out of earshot.

“I panicked,” they said honestly.

Hunk hummed. “That’s fair. And anyways, I suppose if you ended up introducing them, you might have to do more explaining than you want.”

“No kidding,” Pidge replied with a nod. “Keith’s been onto me off and on for years. Always thinks I’m up to something. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m in training to be a court spy or something. Not that that’d be a bad idea.”

“Speaking of bad ideas, do you think it’d be a bad idea to tell Keith about all this anyways?”

Pidge blinked. “What, about mermaids and everything?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Pidge, if Lance doesn’t get Keith to fall in love with him in three days, he turns to seafoam! He’d essentially… you know…” Hunk trailed off, a heavy silence settling over him.

“Much as I want to,” Pidge began slowly. “And as much as I think that Keith would be willing to help, I don’t think it’d do us any good. He has to fall in love with Lance, right? Something like that… I don’t know if it can be forced, no matter how much you want it.”

Hunk said nothing in reply, and Pidge felt their heart twist painfully. Lance was a good friend of theirs, but Hunk had known Lance far longer and far more intimately than Pidge. To only be able to stand by (or float by, part of Pidge’s mind considered), while his dearest friend put his life on the line for love… Pidge didn’t even want to imagine. Pidge stood from where they’d been hiding, their expression set.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help them along though.”

~*~

To say that Allura’s return was met calmly and with a reasonable level of poise would be a bold-faced lie.

In fact, she was swarmed by Lance’s entire family before she’d even crossed the threshold of their palace. They were beside themselves with worry, and his niece and nephew in particular were in hysterics. Most concerning of all was Veronica, who looked as though she hadn’t slept for days, though it had hardly been one since Lance left. Once the delegation that had accompanied Allura was assured of her safety, she was ushered into a private sitting room with Veronica.

There was silence between them at first. Veronica slumped into a seat, exhaustion weighing as heavy as the ocean at the bottom of a trench on her. Her position was not so different from Allura’s, being first in line to rule their respective kingdoms, but unlike Allura, she had already taken over many of the responsibilities that would be expected of her as queen. Add that to ensuring that her siblings attended to their duties as well, and her position was most assuredly more stressful than Allura’s.

“I messed up, didn’t I?”

Allura was taken aback by the question, but quickly moved to reassure the other princess. “No! Well, perhaps you were a bit harsh. After all, as far as I understand it took him years to build his collection, and to simply get rid of it all--”

Allura stopped when a perplexed expression crossed Veronica’s face.

“What are you talking about?”

“His collection. In the cove. It’s all gone,” Allura said. Veronica still looked confused. “It wasn’t you?”

“No, of course not! Collecting human items, that’s harmless, although he does have a tendency to let it get in the way of his duties as a prince… I would never do that to him. He’s my brother.”

“I see,” Allura mused, her mind alight with suspicion.

A beat of silence rippled through the waters.

“Do you know where Lance is?”

Allura nearly choked on some bubbles. “No, I--Hunk and I, when we went looking for him, we thought we might find him faster if we split up. I searched as long as I could, and then I decided to check back here to see if he’d returned on his own.”

Veronica hummed, slouching back into her seat and looking utterly defeated. Allura did not envy the pressure Veronica was under, and wished more than anything that she could assure her that her baby brother was well and alive. But she’d promised Lance.

“As it is,” Allura continued with a little more confidence. “A pressing matter has arisen that I must attend to as soon as possible. I hate to leave you during such a time--”

“Please, don’t worry yourself over it,” Veronica insisted. “We’ll send word as soon as we find Lance and Hunk.”

She rose from her seat and embraced Allura tightly. Allura could practically feel the stress in her tense form. She didn’t want to leave Veronica and the rest of Lance’s family like this. But then, would they be any less worried if they knew the truth.

“Is there anything I can do before I leave?” Allura asked.

Veronica considered the offer with tired eyes. Though they were the same color as Lance’s, they were quite different. Even when she wasn’t under the weight of the entire ocean, Veronica’s eyes had a sort of sharpness to them that was leagues away from the rolling liveliness of Lance’s. Now she seemed dull at the edges.

“Do you know the humans Lance knows?” she asked suddenly.

Allura recoiled, but answered honestly, “No!--that is, not as well as him.”

A slight pause.

“But I think Lance may be right,” she added.

Veronica blinked, clearly surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I think… there may be humans who are not as dangerous as we might think. Humans that can be negotiated with,” Allura elaborated.

“And the poachers of the past? You think they don’t exist anymore?”

Allura shook her head. “It may be that humans are not so different from merfolk. After all, there are plenty of creatures under the sea, merfolk included, that would do us harm without even the slightest provocation.”

Veronica did not reply. Instead she straightened, trying to once more look the part of crown princess of her kingdom. Allura knew firsthand just how exhausting that could be.

“Well, don’t let me keep you. You said you had an urgent matter to attend to?” Veronica reminded her.

“Yes, thank you,” Allura replied with an appropriate bow of her head. Then, just before she opened the door, “I wish you the best of luck. I hope everything is resolved soon.”

“You hope, or you know?”

Allura froze, trying to keep herself composed. She met Veronica’s eyes, sharp and decisive once more, with as much confidence as she could muster.

“There are a great many things I do not know,” she said. “But that I intend to find out.”

Veronica eyed Allura suspiciously. Allura remained resolute.

Finally, Veronica sighed. “Very well. Have a safe journey home.”

With that, Allura swiftly took her leave. The longer she stayed around Veronica the more likely it was that Veronica would wrangle the truth out of her. That would not do at all. As it was, Allura thought, she would likely find out in three day’s time anyways.

Three days, she contemplated on her way home. To Lance’s family, it would no doubt feel like an eternity. To Allura, it was not nearly enough time at all.

~*~

“So,” Pidge mused, sliding beside Keith as he stood gazing out a window. “I hear you made a new friend.”

Keith snorted. “You could say that.”

“I also hear he’s incredibly attractive.”

Keith broke from his brooding to give Pidge a puzzled look. “Since when do you care about whether people are attractive or not?”

“I don’t, that’s just what I heard,” Pidge said with a shrug. “Word travels fast, and there’s nothing servants love more than some juicy gossip.”

“And there’s nothing you love more than talking to people,” Keith drawled.

“No, but people can be really careless. They just want to talk, nevermind who’s listening. What no one seems to agree on is why you decided to bring him home.”

Keith groaned, bumping his head lightly against the glass. “I already told Shiro, I just felt like he needed some help, and I was right there, so I figured, why not?”

“Fair enough.”

Keith scowled. “That’s what Shiro said, and I know neither of you mean it.”

Pidge shrugged again. “It’s not everyday a prince brings home a beautiful man, but the last time that happened there was a marriage not long after.”

“That--that’s different! Adam was a visiting noble from the more inland part of the kingdom and--!”

“And then I never left,” a third voice piped.

Keith didn’t even bother to look. “You here to interrogate me too?”

“No, as much as I’d like to. Takashi won’t shut up about it,” Adam said, sidling up to Keith’s other side. “Dinner is going to be ready soon. Will you be joining us, Pidge?”

“If I’m invited.”

Keith prayed that Adam said no. He was already surrounded as it was, he didn’t need Shiro added to the mix. And they already had one guest as it was, and they generally liked to keep dinner a private affair.

“Of course, you’re always invited, Pidge.”

Keith groaned. Usually he could count on Adam being on his side for a lot of things, but for all that he said he wasn’t interested, Adam was clearly burning with just as much curiosity as everyone in the palace. As they all shuffled off to dinner, Keith idly wondered how long it would be before the entire kingdom was circulating rumors of an engagement.

Shiro was already seated when they entered the private dining room, delighted to see that Pidge would be joining them. Adam took his place beside his husband, and they exchanged a look that to Keith seemed to say that Adam had been as successful as Shiro in wrangling any interesting information from him. Not that there was anything “interesting” to be found out. Sure, maybe he’d thought that at first this perfect stranger had been the one that had rescued Keith not so long ago, and maybe Keith was still thinking longingly of a lingering touch against his cheek, but that had nothing to do with--

There was a shuffling at the door. It was ajar, and just outside a servant stood, speaking in an encouraging tone to someone just out of Keith’s sight. Then, a tentative figure stepped through the door.

Keith had to remind himself to breathe. It was the stranger, freshly washed and dressed in one of Keith’s own deep red coats (he had told the servants to fit the stranger with some of his own clothes, and hadn’t thought anything of it at the time). The vivid scarlet that Keith favored was a striking contrast to the young man’s eyes, and made them seem more prominent than ever. For a second time, Keith reminded himself to breathe, and to not stare.

“Uh, you look--you look great,” Keith stammered, for all that he’d been trying his hardest to remain composed.

The young man smiled bashfully, and Keith led him to the table, pointedly not looking at anyone else as he did. He didn’t need to look to know that Shiro and Pidge were struggling to contain their grinning, and Adam, far more composed than either of them, was simply staring intently.

Pidge caught Lance’s eye and offered him a subtle wave. Lance smiled at them, feeling as though he were floating amidst the most amiable current. His steps were far more steady now than they had been only a few hours ago, and most importantly, he was here, with Keith! Lance was certain that if he still had his voice he’d be giggling out of sheer elation.

“So, I know you can’t speak, but is there any way you can give us your name?” Shiro asked politely of Lance.

Lance considered for a moment, glancing at Pidge in what he hoped was a subtle fashion. They made no indication that they would say anything. It seemed he was on his own for this one. He mimed thrusting forward with a lance, hoping that humans had them too, but no one at the table seemed to get it (“Pike?” Keith guessed. Lance shook his head vigorously). Pidge remained conspicuously silent all the while.

“I’m… sure we’ll figure it out sooner or later,” Shiro assured him. “It just feels rude to not be able to refer to you by name.”

“Speaking of which, we haven’t told him ours,” Adam pointed out.

“Oh!” Shiro gasped. “Of course.”

Introductions were made quickly. Lance nodded at every name, even Pidge’s, in what he hoped was a polite manner. It irked him that he couldn’t return the pleasantries; indeed, if he still had his voice he might’ve laughed at how important it all suddenly seemed to him, to be courteous and princely. He wondered distantly if Veronica would laugh too.

Idle chatter descended upon their small party as they waited for food. Lance, with no voice, was left to take in every little thing that surrounded him. Everything was so very different from his underwater home. On the table there was already an assortment of items he only half recognized.

Directly in front of him was a fork, which he knew, and in the middle of the table, a very curious item that he only half-recognized. He had a feeling that Pidge wasn’t going to explain what it was in front of everyone else, but that was alright. With three prongs to the elegantly crafted item, with sockets in each prong, Lance was certain he could guess what it was for. He picked up the fork in front of him first, and with unshakeable certainty placed it right in the center socket. That’s what he did with the one he’d had in his collection, anyways.

He was very quickly aware of the silence that had descended upon the room. Everyone was staring at him. His face was burning as he quickly removed the fork from where he’d put it, placing it carefully where it had been. Lance was just wishing he could disappear until a sudden peal of laughter shattered the silence. Across from him, Keith was hiding his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

From the end of the table, Shiro grinned. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen him laugh this hard since… when was the last time he laughed this hard?”

“Sorry, sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you,” Keith assured Lance. “I just--that was--”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence, but that was perfectly fine with Lance. He beamed, proud to be the reason that Keith was laughing so freely for the first time in too long. In the meantime, he hoped that Pidge would tell remind him what the item was for later. Funny as it was in retrospect, Lance didn’t want to spend the next few days making a fool of himself. He had more important things to do, after all.

“I don’t think he’s from around here,” Pidge mentioned lightly as dinner was brought out to them. “Hey, Keith, maybe you should show him around town tomorrow.”

“What--”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Adam said before Keith could protest.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been anywhere but around the castle and on the beach,” Shiro agreed. At Keith’s scathing look, he added, “You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Keith ignored his brother and turned to Lance. “What do you say? Would you like a tour of the capital town tomorrow? It’s not anything spectacular, but it’s home.”

Lance nodded eagerly, certain that what Keith referred to as home would be nothing short of marvelous. Keith smiled, a sight that made Lance feel warmer than he thought possible. If only, he thought, the deal had been for Lance to fall in love with Keith, then his humanity would be assured.

As it was, Lance insisted to himself that there was no point in lingering on “what-ifs”. Not when there was some very intriguing human cuisine before him, anyways.

~*~

Pidge didn’t linger after dinner. They weren’t sure how much more of Lance and Keith mooning over each other they could handle, and anyways, they had important information to relay. As soon as they were able (and making sure that Keith was lost in Lance’s eyes beforehand), they slipped out with only a quiet word of thanks to the elder prince and his husband.

With the sun going down, activity around the castle was winding down amongst the upper classes. For the servants the work was as steady as always. Stoking up fires to keep away the chill of the coming night, clearing away dinner messes or bringing fresh dinners for those who kept later hours, and cleaning away the mess of the day. None of them had a thought to spare for Pidge as they snuck into the kitchens for a sack of food and then made their way out of the castle.

They took a smaller, side exit that led to a quaint garden that had a marvelous view of the ocean. They made a mental note to suggest to Keith that he ought to take Lance here. In the meantime, they pushed through the meticulously trimmed hedges to find a small trail that they would’ve missed if they hadn’t been looking for it. It led down the steep hill that the castle was settled on, treacherous and overgrown and dangerous to take in low light. Pidge followed it resolutely as it turned sharply to parallel the shore. It led them to a shady cove where the castle was hanging over the shore, where the ocean had eroded the land over time.

They glanced around, ever suspicious.

“Hunk?”

A moment or two passed. The only sound was the constant roll of ocean waves. Pidge sat themself on a rock, and waited. A light breeze swept through the secret cove that had long been Pidge’s personal hideaway. They breathed it in gratefully, tasting the salt and revelling in the cool air against their skin.

“Pidge!” a harsh whisper called.

They opened their eyes. Hunk’s face was just barely peeking out of the water, but his golden tail could be seen behind him. The water was too shallow for him to be completely submerged.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

Pidge grinned. “They were all over the idea. Keith and Lance will be spending the majority of the day together tomorrow. As it is, Keith is already smitten. He’s already half in love with Lance and he doesn’t even know it.”

“Good,” Hunk breathed. “I was worried.”

“So was I, but looking at them, I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” Pidge assured him.

“Oh no, I’ll be worrying every single moment until they kiss,” Hunk insisted, his tail jerking sharply behind him. “Part of me is wondering if Lotor lied to Lance. Or if maybe Lance can only stay human as long as Keith loves him. What if they kiss but it’s not true love? What if it’s just passionate infatuation? What if--”

“Hunk,” Pidge cut in gently. “We could go around in circles all night with what-if’s. Things are going well so far.”

“I know,” Hunk whined, blowing bubbles in the water.

“In the meantime, let’s think of a plan for the third day,” Pidge suggested, brandishing the sack of food they’d brought with them.

~*~

The sun had long since set on Allura’s home, but she was still awake and elbow deep in the archives of her home castle, poring over tablet after tablet. Reading the tablets was delicate and tedious work. That which was merfolk of the past had wanted to record was carved into sturdy stone that was known to withstand the constant whims of the water for many ages. The tablets Allura held, however, were ancient. She made a note to have some of the archivists re-carve the tablets.

For now, however, she felt with careful fingers along the tablets that were supposedly records of lost magic. She’d been through several such tablets already. None of them had anything she was looking for, only tales of mermaids who had sung humans to their death in retaliation for their violent poaching practices. Fascinating as that had been, it was not what Allura needed.

“Our most revered Princess Elanil is thus revealed to have been blessed with the silvertongue gift,” the current tablet read. It wasn’t the first time she’d come across a mention of one of her own ancestors having the silvertongue gift.

Allura continued reading. “But even before she could use it, it was taken from her by the wretched hands of Man. Having taken to the surface in search of vengeance for her most beloved People, our Princess sought to drown Men with her own hands. Those very same Men caught her with their hands before she had uttered a word and cut out her tongue, silencing our dear Princess forevermore.”

Allura recoiled, and almost set the tablet down. Her hands, however, unconsciously moved down to the next line.

“Robbed though she was, our Princess was determined to seek her vengeance tenfold. Her eyes gleamed with the force of a storm at sea and her strength was double that. With her sheer tenacity alone, Princess Elanil drowned a count of Men that shall be directly recorded…”

Allura set the tablet aside and held her head in her hands. She didn’t even know why she was bothering with anything about the silvertongue, unless it was to discern what Lotor could possibly want with it. As it was, mentions of the silvertongue were vague at best, and grossly exaggerated at worst. One account had it that the silvertongue the truest expression of the ocean itself, and those who possessed such a gift could do more than sway people to their will. Poetic as such accounts were, they were utterly useless to Allura.

She was just reaching for the next tablet when, through the silence, a voice spoke, “Allura?”

She whipped her head up, and saw in the dim light of a single bioluminescent lamp her father, King Alfor. His forehead was creased with worry.

“I had heard you had returned, but I wasn’t sure I should believe it,” he commented airily. “After all, why should my dear daughter return without even saying hello to her parents?”

Allura shrugged sheepishly, and then swam over to hug her father tightly, a soft apology on her lips. Alfor smiled kindly as he returned the embrace.

“Your mother is worried. We heard what’s happening with our neighbors,” he said. “She thinks you distraught.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you or mother,” she replied.

“Tell me then, what are you up to?” he asked abruptly. He glanced at the tablets scattered on the table Allura had been sitting at. “The silvertongue gift?”

Allura sought to keep her posture natural. Not too composed, but not too relaxed. “Well, you see—it’s just that—the reason Lance was so upset as to leave in the first place was because of the pressure put on him as one in possession of the silvertongue gift. I thought that if I could help him understand it, he might be able to control it, and then perhaps he might not feel so overburdened, is all.”

Alfor raised an eyebrow. Allura knew he suspected there was something more than what she was saying, and she knew he knew. Thankfully, he seemed to sense that she couldn’t and wouldn’t come forward with the truth so easily. All the same, Allura wasn’t sure if she was grateful for the fact that he didn’t press for the truth or not.

“And what have you found?” he asked instead.

Allura huffed. “Nothing of use. It’s all tales of those who supposedly possessed the gift themselves, never anything about what exactly it is or how one uses it.”

“Really?” Alfor inquired. “I thought for sure there was something about the nature of the silvertongue gift in here somewhere…”

He moved to looked through the tablets Allura had collected while Allura stared, wide-eyed. “You’ve read about the silvertongue?”

“My dear, I must’ve read everything in this library at least twice. Surely your mother has told you before.”

Allura cracked a wry smile as several memories resurfaced. “She may have mentioned it once or twice.”

Alfor chuckled as he continued his search for that particular tablet. He found it after only a moment, holding it up as he read it aloud.

“To call it the silvertongue is something of a misnomer,” he read. “For it is not in the tongue that the gift resides, though that seems to be where it makes itself most apparent. Indeed the silvertongue gift is believed by a few to be a physical manifestation of the ocean itself—“

“I read that already,” Allura interrupted with a sigh. “But that’s the only source that claims that. It’s a romantic view of the magic, certainly, but without evidence—“

“Who’s to say there isn’t evidence?” Alfor asked with a knowing smile.

Allura frowned. “I’ve read all of these tablets, this claim is just a story!”

“If you insist,” Alfor relented, setting down the tablet. “But remember my dear, while many stories regarding magic have their roots in misunderstanding, a special few are rooted in truth. It’s just a matter of finding where that truth is.”

With that he pressed a kiss to her forehead, reminding her not to stay up too late. She assured him that she wouldn’t, although they both seemed to know that was a lie. Allura simply didn’t have time. Realistically she knew she couldn’t stay awake for three days straight, but neither could she waste too much time on sleep. She had to find an answer, and she was certain by then that it didn’t lie in any stories about the silvertongue. But if it wasn’t in stories about magic, then where could it possibly be?

Once her father left, Allura turned back to the tablets on the table, and spied one she didn’t remember taking down from the shelves. Curious she took it in her hands.

“Magic and Alchemy,” it read. “Differences, similarities, and why they both became likened to myth.”

~*~

The dawn of the second day broke bright and beautiful over the ocean. The stranger was already awake when Keith peeked in the room he was staying in, on the balcony admiring the sunrise. It was different, seeing this handsome stranger in such a peaceful moment. Normally he was brimming with energy and unable to sit still. Keith found it charming, but this, too, was endearing. From just the right angle, Keith could see the stranger’s eyes, settled like the sea before them.

“Good morning,” Keith finally greeted, startling the stranger from his reverie. Keith chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

The young man waved a hand at him, and then gestured for Keith to join him. Keith did so gladly.

“Sleep well?” Keith asked. The stranger nodded, even as he yawned. “Good. We’ve got a bit of a day ahead of us, although I will have to be present for petitioning for at least an hour this morning, since I wasn’t present yesterday. I hope that’s alright.”

The man nodded once more, and then tapped his chest as he tilted his head. Keith raised his eyebrows.

“You want to sit through petitions?”

Another fervent nod.

“Are you sure? They’re pretty boring, I can hardly stand them myself…”

The stranger was resolute. He wanted to join Keith. Keith, for his part, had no complaints, he just didn’t want his surprise guest to be bored to death before they went out to the town. As eager as he seemed about everything in the castle, Keith was looking forward to seeing how he reacted to seeing the charming town just beyond the castle gates. In the meantime, however--

“Any other hints towards your name?” Keith inquired.

The stranger once more made that thrusting motion he’d made the night before, calling to mind a sort of polearm weapon. Keith had already tried Pike, which had apparently been wrong, but he was certain that “spear” or “halberd” couldn’t be his name. If there were any other possibilities, they escaped Keith. The stranger huffed. Apparently that was the only hint he had, and Keith just wasn’t getting it.

“Sorry, I’m sure I’ll get it eventually,” Keith apologized. “Maybe there’s something I can call you in the meantime?”

The stranger shrugged, but did not seem wholly opposed to the idea. Keith hummed and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“How about… Blue?” he suggested, reaching out the brush away an errant strand of hair from the stranger’s face. “For your eyes.”

Said eyes widened, then looked away. The stranger smiled, nodding demurely.

“Alright then, Blue,” Keith said. “Let’s get going. Those petitioners aren’t going to listen to themselves, after all.”

Half an hour later, Keith walked into the throne room, Blue not far behind. Tittering nobles peered curiously at the handsome stranger, gossiping behind their delicate silk fans so rapidly that it sound like the ocean wind had made it inside. Keith paid them no heed, and hoped that Blue did the same. A quick glance told him there was no need to worry. Dressed in a well-fitted, deep blue vest over a flowing white shirt, Blue held himself like a prince, looking forward as though the nobles that lined the walls simply didn’t exist.

Thusly reassured, Keith swiftly took his seat beside Shiro. Blue, without even a single questioning glance, stood to the side. He stood tall and kept his hands clasped behind his back. Were his appearance not so sudden, no one would’ve questioned that he belonged. It was immensely intriguing to Keith. Just who was Blue?

Keith had no time to ponder the question as the first petitioner stepped forward. By his looks, he seemed to be a fisherman, his aged face wind-weathered and sun-kissed. He gripped his hat nervously as he paid the proper respects to the royals. Behind him were several more fishermen, looking just as anxious as the one that spoke on their behalf.

“Your Highnesses,” he began in a tremulous voice. “I’ve always been a reasonable man, a man of logic. Never set much store by superstition, anyone’ll tell you.”

Behind him, several of his companions nodded.

“But?” Shiro prompted.

The fisherman seemed reluctant to continue. “But… As of late, the waters, thereabouts on the eastern side of the peninsula, they’ve become dangerous for us.”

Shiro leaned forward. “How so?”

“That’s just the thing your Highness, is that no one can say for certain,” the fisherman explained. “Our folks go out for the day, and their boats come back, but they don’t. And if they do, it’s by the grace of the currents, because they’ll come back dead.”

A hush fell over the room, followed by the insistent rush of chatter as the nobles appraised this dramatic turn of events. The sound was not unlike the crash of waves just outside. Keith, too, found his interest piqued. His first thought was that raiding parties might be coming over from the neighboring kingdom, and then he considered the possibility of pirates. But the fisherman had said that the ships had returned.

“Of the ships that returned,” Keith began. “How many were stripped of their valuables?”

“None, your Highness,” the fisherman answered.

“So then likely not pirates or raiding parties,” Shiro muttered so that only Keith could hear.

“If I may, your Highnesses,” the fisherman pressed at the insistence of his companions. “Us folk think we may know that what’s killing us, though I fear you’ll think me daft for it.”

“I don’t like to discount any possibility, no matter how slim. Let’s hear it,” Shiro commanded.

The fisherman gripped his hat like a lifeline. “Merfolk, your Highness.”

Several nobles laughed loudly. Keith glanced at Blue, thinking he might laugh too. On the contrary, Blue’s face was suddenly ashen, his eyes wide and his lips pressed tightly together. Keith only had time enough to consider that perhaps Blue was the superstitious type before Shiro spoke again.

“What makes you so certain?” he asked of the fisherman.

“The bodies we’ve found, none of them was stabbed or shot or anything of the sort. They were drowned, your Highness, grabbed by the throat and dragged down ‘til the breath left their lungs for good. The bruises round their necks are proof enough. And ain’t nary a soul in our parts that can’t swim, we teach our children and they teach theirs--and what with how many times it’s happened, these can’t be no accidents, least as far as we can tell,” the fisherman explained.

Still some nobles deigned to laugh at the fisherman’s plight. Keith scowled at those whose eyes he caught. As the younger prince, it was not generally up to him to answer the petitions, so instead he took on the responsibility of keeping peace in the court. It was a job he was good at; the nobles silenced themselves promptly. Certainly he didn’t believe the idea that merfolk had come to drown humans as they did in stories, but it was clear that something was going on.

From his expression, Keith could tell that Shiro thought much the same.

“We’ll send some ships from our navy to patrol your waters,” Shiro decided. “In the meantime, you and your people should arm yourselves in whatever way you can. Make certain that anyone who goes out onto open waters has the means to defend themselves.”

The fisherman looked reluctant, but bowed all the same. So too did his companions.

“Thank you, your Highness.”

And just like that, they were escorted from the room, and petitioning continued without any further excitement. Keith glanced at Blue again. His brows were knit together in consternation, his posture more rigid than confident. Keith wanted to take him away right then, to escape into town and make him smile again. Alas, petitions lasted at least another hour before they could get away. By the time they did, Blue looked at ease once more, so Keith decided not to bring the issue up again.

Unfortunately, before he could grab Blue and escape the throne room, they were both accosted by nosy nobles. Keith hated that he couldn’t simply tell them to go away. Didn’t they have anything better to do than get into the business of other people?!

“Your Highness,” the first lady, a one Lady Vernetria of Lucely, greeted with a deep curtsy. Her companions followed suit.

Keith responded with a curt bow of his own. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

The ladies giggled demurely behind their fans. Lady Vernetria was the one to speak again. She’d always been the leader of some clique or other. She was fine company for the most part, but her penchant for gossip made her exhausting at times. Keith knew exactly what she wanted to know.

“We were wondering,” she began in a lilting tone. “Just who your handsome friend is, and if you would be so gracious as to introduce us.”

Keith glanced at Blue, who didn’t seem averse. “This is Blue. He’s here as my guest. Blue, this is Lady Vernetria, Lady Katarin, and Lady Nolette.”

Blue bowed swiftly and smiled in such a way that immediately charmed the ladies. They were on him like sharks to a fresh piece of meat.

“Where are you from?”

“How long will you be staying?”

“Are you single?”

Keith cut in quickly. “Ladies, please, he doesn’t speak. Even so, I can’t speak for him, but he is welcome to stay as long as he likes.”

“Oh, the poor dear!” Lady Katarin simpered. Lady Vernetria gave her a light smack with her closed fan.

“So, your Highness, what did you think of the first petition?” Lady Nolette inquired, smirking slightly. The other two ladies had to restrain her giggles.

“I think people dying is a matter that should be taken seriously,” Keith replied with a twitch of annoyance.

The ladies recoiled slightly, but pressed forward all the same. “In that case it doesn’t seem as though the fishermen aren’t taking it very seriously, don’t you think?”

“I think they’re scared,” Keith told them honestly. “They’re clinging onto whatever explanation they can in the absence of a rational one. That happens to people who spend a lot of time out at sea.”

“Still,” Lady Katarin giggled. “Merfolk?”

“I know! I’m surprised they didn’t say they were hearing irresistible singing from the depths!” Lady Nolette shrieked. Lady Vernetria couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“Oh, Mister Blue, are you alright?” Lady Katarin asked suddenly.

Keith glanced at him, and indeed Blue was looking uncomfortable again. More than that, his eyes flashed like a storm at sea. Keith had to get him out of here, but prying himself from the clutches of court ladies was always a difficult task.

“Mister Blue, do you believe in merfolk?” Lady Vernetria questioned with a sharp flick of her fan.

Blue shook his head, but it was a sharp and jerky motion. Not entirely convincing.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, dear,” Lady Nolette tittered. “Merfolk aren’t real.”

“And even if they were, we’d do them just as people do in the stories,” Lady Vernetria added with a grin. “We’d spear them from top to tail, just like any other fish--”

Before Keith could do anything to get her to stop, she stopped on her own, mouth agape and eyes suddenly unfocused. Her friends tapped her shoulder urgently, concerned by this alarming state of her’s. Keith, too, was troubled. What on earth…?

She snapped out of it before too long. She shook her head and said, “Dear me, my apologies. Anyways, I’m sure you have things you’d like to be getting to, your Highness. We shouldn’t hold up you and your guest any longer. Mister Blue, I do hope we see you around for some time to come.”

Keith blinked. “Thank you, I--have a good day, ladies.”

They curtsied and took their leaves, Lady Vernetria looking utterly perplexed with her friends much in the same way. Keith was confused too. Still, it was just as well that she seemed to change her mind so suddenly. He and Blue were finally free. He looked at Blue, who looked a little confused as well. He merely shrugged. His eyes seemed more settled now than they had only a moment earlier.

“Well, that was… something. I hope they didn’t bother you too much. They’re good people, just a bit tactless at times,” Keith said as he shucked off his outer coat and passed it off to a servant. Then he smiled. “So, you ready to see what the town has to offer?”

Blue nodded earnestly, and Keith’s smile widened. They hurried outside, where a horse drawn carriage was waiting for them. Keith paused as he caught sight of the ocean. He still heard those whispers, still felt that tender touch, but they were fainter now, more distant. They were elusive as the horizon, it seemed. And yet Keith still longed for them. He climbed into the carriage after helping Blue up. Keith never liked to sit on such things for too long, and if there was nothing he could do about it, then, well…

Keith laughed as Blue studied the horses with intense fascination. Today, he decided, would be a good day.

Lance was of the same opinion, though he wasn’t able to say as much. He’d been rightly distressed at the idea of merfolk drowning humans, and more so when the ladies had interrogated him about merfolk. Of all the people they could’ve asked! In the meantime, his mind was furiously trying to discern the truth of the situation. It was possible that it was the acts of a few rogue mermaids, as the waters in that direction, as far as Lance could remember, did not belong to any particular kingdom. There was also the distinct possibility that it wasn’t merfolk at all, but the idea that merfolk were suspect at all was alarming to say the least.

Thankfully Keith made no more mention of it as they made their way out into town, and Lance was able to throw himself entirely into every new curiosity he came across. First were the four legged the beasts that looked nothing like dogs pulling the box-like object he and Keith were seated in. Lance leaned over the edge, trying to see how it all worked, only to be pulled right back in by a frantic Keith.

It wasn’t a far ride into town. There were more humans in one place than Lance had ever seen before, and that was including the castle he’d just been in! Everyone was buzzing with activity, bustling this way and that, talking to one another, bargaining, working, and all manner of amazing things.

Keith smiled at Lance’s enthusiasm.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Keith assured him.

The vehicle they were in stopped by a peculiar structure that spouted water. A few people were gathered around it. Some were merely chatting with each other, while others took water from it. At the bottom, Lance noticed something glittering. He tapped Keith urgently on the arm and pointed it out.

“Oh, that?” Keith said. “It’s just the fountain, nothing special. People get fresh water from it, and supposedly if you throw a coin in you can make a wish.”

Lance considered that for a moment. So, humans had their own sort of magic after all. If he ever got his voice back, he decided, he was going to rub that in Pidge’s face so hard. In the meantime, he had no coins to exchange for wishes, and so was about to take to his next fancy when Keith offered a coin to him, a coin quite unlike the ones Lance used to scrounge up from sunken ships for Pidge.

“Want to make a wish?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded and took the coin from Keith. He watched intently as Keith took another coin and flipped it neatly into the water, not saying a single word. His confusion must’ve shown on his face, because Keith was smiling again.

“What? If you say your wish out loud it won’t come true.”

Well then, Lance thought as he tried to imitate Keith’s motions, his wish was sure to come true. Twice he dropped his coin to the ground, finally electing to just hurl it into the water. Keith snorted, and they moved on.

There were so many things to see, so many things to do, Lance could hardly keep track of all of them. Once they passed by a cart of strange birds, which Lance knew to be birds only by the feathers that trailed after the cart. They made a strange sound that Lance didn’t even know was possible for birds to make. He thought they all screeched, like seagulls.

Keith tried his very best to show his guest the more interesting parts of town. His blue-eyed friend, however, seemed interested in just about everything, and Keith was helpless to resist as Blue dragged him to and fro, his zeal for even the smallest things seeming to know no limits. To most it might’ve seemed child-like, what with how easily Blue was distracted and how he seemed to have a blatant disregard for how things worked (Keith had to apologize profusely when Blue walked right up to a small booth where puppeteers were performing, and yanked a puppet right off the hand of some poor actor), but to Keith, it was impossibly endearing.

It was a little hard to keep up with Blue though. Where only yesterday he’d initially been unsteady on his feet as a fish out of water, Blue now hopped around effortlessly after everything that moved. Just as Keith was wondering how he was going to make it through the day, he spotted something that he was certain Blue would love.

“Hey, Blue!” he called as the young man was admiring a stall that offered a brilliant array of flowers.

Blue skipped over to Keith with a grin as bright as sunlight on the sea. Keith held out his hand. Blue took it without question, and Keith led him towards a pavillion lined with flowers, where a band had struck up a lively tune and several people had taken to dancing. As Keith suspected, Blue was immediately taken by the sight. He jumped on the spot, gesturing first between himself and the dancers, and then between him and Keith.

The question was clear as day.

“You want to dance?” Keith asked anyways.

Blue nodded.

Without another word, Keith led him out onto the pavillion. Blue’s steps were uncertain at first, as though he’d never danced before. Keith whispered gentle reassurances, the hand on Blue’s waist strong and steady. Slowly but surely, Blue learned how to not trip over his own feet, and perhaps more importantly, how to not step on Keith’s.

Soon enough they were twirling around the pavillion with fervor. Blue’s eyes were alight with mirth, his cheeks flushed. Keith found it impossible to avert his eyes from the sight.

Suddenly, Keith got an idea. He pulled Blue close, and asked, “You ready for a lift?”

Blue tilted his head. Keith grinned.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Keith said, more to himself than to Blue.

He placed both of his hands securely on Blue’s waist and held tight. Blue’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you, okay?”

Blue nodded.

In time with the music, Keith lifted Blue as high as he could and twirled him around. Blue was surprised at first, and then tossed his head back in silent, rapturous laughter. Keith thought he could almost hear it, like like wind whisking over the waves. When he set Blue back on the ground, they held each other just a little closer.

Lance was breathless by the time the sun started to sink in the sky. Not only had he seen more things than his head could manage to remember, but he’d learned to dance! With Keith! And the lift! It wasn’t until Lance caught sight of the setting sun, a reminder of his limited time, that he paused for long enough to catch his breath once more.

They’d returned to the strange vehicle they’d arrived in, supposedly getting ready to return to the castle. Lance didn’t want to go. Going back meant ending the day, and ending the day just meant that much less time spent with Keith. Not that he could say that. It seemed he would just have to be content with what he’d been given.

They had just started on their way when Keith said, “Do you mind if we take a little detour? There’s one last place I want to take you.”

Lance nodded, feeling dizzy from how many times he’d repeated the motion that day. Keith sighed, seeming almost relieved that Lance was willing.

“Great,” he said with a smile. “I think you’ll really like this place.”

~*~

Allura woke with a violent start in the middle of the second day. Her cheek had been pressed into the rough texture of the last tablet she’d been reading. She tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, to no avail. She had no idea when she’d fallen asleep, but she did know that the sun had already been up, so she couldn’t have been asleep for that long. Instead of retiring to her room, she picked up the tablet she’d been using as a pillow and continued reading.

“Oftentimes practitioners of alchemy saw fit to masquerade themselves as other creatures, including humans,” the tablet read. “Through the art of alchemy, as they learned it from the sea itself, alchemists were able to change their forms as it suited them. However, these forms were temporary and unstable. If they shifted their forms to mimic other creatures of the sea as they were, they would simply revert to their original form after some number of days.”

Allura pressed her lips tightly together as she continued to read, “However, should creatures of the sea choose to mimic the form of creatures of the land, such as humans, there were severe consequences. Being creatures of the sea, those who mimicked the visage of humans took on even more unstable forms, which invariably collapsed into sea foam after some number of days. For this reason, few creatures chose to appear as humans.”

Allura sighed heavily. So Lotor hadn’t been lying. She pressed on, hoping for a way to reverse this inevitable end.

“There was, for those who changed their forms, only a few known ways to lend some permanence to their borrowed forms. The first, and most desirable, was for the changed creature to give their heart to someone who belonged to those creatures the changed was imitating. Oftentimes this exchange was already done before one would change to match the other. This method tends towards the more metaphysical aspect of alchemy, and signifies the willingness of both creatures to accept the worlds of one another (in spite of the contradictory nature of the action of one changing to belong to the other’s world).”

“The second method tended towards the more scientific and physical aspect of alchemy, the part that allowed for the change in the first place. It was far less desirable than the first method, and often made the changed an outcast before they could make a place for themselves in the aimed for society. This method involved the murder of one who already belonged to the aimed for society, effectively taking their place. Specifically, it was a literal version of the first method, as the changed was required to carve out their heart and hold it with them for some number of days, or until they were assured of the permanence of their form.”

Allura set the tablet aside and put her face in her hands. The first method was the one that Lotor had told Lance, only with a more specific deadline. By the way this record put it, there was a chance that Lance had a bit more time, but to the same end should he fail to secure Keith’s heart. There was no way she could convince Lance to try the second method, no matter how desperate things became. Even if presented with a human who might deserve such an end, Lance was not a killer. Allura couldn’t and more importantly wouldn’t ask that of him.

“Allura, dear?” a voice called just as Allura was nodding off again.

She whirled around, only a little startled, but then relaxed. “Oh, mother! Uh—hello.”

Queen Melenor raised an eyebrow. “I was wondering why my only daughter didn’t come to greet me when she returned so suddenly. Now I see. She’s becoming more like her father every day.”

Allura laughed, and swam into her mother’s outstretched arms. She let herself stay there a moment, let herself feel like a child overwhelmed by the vastness of the ocean, of the entire world. The world was not so large in her mother’s arms. Much as she wanted to, Allura could not linger.

“I’m sorry, mother, I didn’t mean to neglect you, it’s just that some very important things came up and our library has the best kept records,” Allura explained.

Melenor brushed a thumb across Allura’s cheek. “I can see that. Do these records also make good pillows?”

“It’s that important mother,” Allura insisted. “But I’m afraid I’ve hit another dead end.”

Melenor hummed. “Perhaps a break is in order?”

“Much as I’d love to--”

“Wonderful! Come along, dear!” Melenor trilled, promptly dragging her daughter away.

“Mother!”

“Allura!” Melenor teased. “It’s just a small break for food. Surely you don’t intend to starve yourself?”

Allura sighed. She had in fact neglected to eat anything since she buried herself in the archives.

“I suppose some food would do me some good.”

“Good!” Melenor said with a smile. “I’m afraid your father won’t be joining us, but we should have a meal together sometime, it’s been far too long.”

“What’s father up to that you can’t drag him away?” Allura inquired, now swimming beside her mother.

Her mother’s expression fell slightly. “Negotiations with the cecaelia, I’m afraid.”

“Again?!” Allura all but shrieked. She made a quick apology for her outburst before continuing. “But we just met with them before I left. What else could they want?”

They settled in a small dining room before Melenor answered. “A great many things, I’m afraid. They’ve always been rather demanding, and what with no clear heir to the throne and an ailing emperor, several factions have approached us for assistance.”

“Whatever did happen to the heir? I could’ve sworn there was one at some point,” Allura commented.

“There was, but his father banished him, I hear,” Melenor said. “They tried to keep it hush, but with that being the only heir, it was difficult to keep it so.”

“Banished his only heir? What in the seven seas happened?” Allura asked as she began to pick at the food in front of her.

“I never heard anything but rumors, but most people agree that the emperor’s son was practicing some terrifying witchcraft,” Melenor informed her in a low voice.

Allura nearly choked on her food. “Witchcraft?!”

Melenor nodded, hardly noticing her daughter’s distress. “Indeed, though everyone knows it was more likely alchemy. Your father says that their kingdom has a history of alchemy that runs just as deep as ours, but as with us it fell into disuse. I can only imagine what sort of awful things the lad must’ve done with the art to have gotten himself banished.”

“What awful things indeed,” Allura mused to herself. She pushed herself away from the table and began to swim away with a sense of urgency.

“Allura, where are you off to now?!” Melenor demanded.

“I’m sorry, mother, I’ve just had a thought that might help me break through this dead end of mine! I promise we’ll all have a meal together soon!” Allura assured her.

Instead of returning to the library, however, Allura swam to where she knew her father was talking with the cecaelian dignitaries. She had a visit to make.

~*~

“Are you alright?” Hunk asked as he peeked out of the water below the bridge that led to the castle.

Pidge was red-faced and wheezing. “Lance—spent the entire day—running around—hardly a break—“

“How are things going between him and Keith?” Hunk pressed.

“Good,” Pidge huffed as they struggled to catch their breath. “Really good. Like, I think Keith is taking Lance somewhere romantic kind of good.”

Hunk’s eyes widened. “Where is he taking him?!”

“Probably to the lagoon. Keith likes to go there on occasion, but I don’t think he really brings people there,” Pidge explained, grinning.

“Where is it? I’ll keep an eye on them so you can take a break!”

~*~

“I like to come here a lot,” Keith explained as they exited the carriage. “It’s quiet, especially once the sun starts to go down, and then the fireflies come out and it’s beautiful. The ocean is great and all, but this is something else entirely.

Perhaps it was because Blue was mute, but Keith felt as though he could talk a lot more freely around him. At the very least, he felt like he was filling up a lot of the conversational space between them. Blue didn’t seem to mind. He watched Keith with a sort of earnestness that Keith wasn’t quite used to, but that he found he didn’t mind. Sometimes he would try to tell Keith something (usually his name), but Keith could usually only guess what he was saying about half the time. He hoped he could get better.

Keith led Blue by the hand down towards the water, where a well-kept dinghy was hidden in the reeds.

“I like to swim around here a lot too, so we could do that instead if you want,” Keith suggested. “It’s a nice enough night for it.”

Blue looked hesitant, but curious.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Keith assured him.

Blue shook his head and then gestured between himself and the water. He made a paddling motion, and then tapped a finger to his temple. He shook his head again.

“You don’t want to? No, you want to…” Keith followed along. “But you… you’re swimming—oh! You don’t know how to swim!”

Blue nodded with a grin, delighted that Keith had guessed what he’d been saying.

“That’s alright, I can teach you!” Keith said eagerly. “That is, if you want to, anyways…”

Blue nodded.

Keith stripped off his shoes and shirt, and Blue copied him with rapt attention. Blue grasped Keith’s hand tightly as they waded into lavender waters. Keith never took his eyes off of him, watching as he gasped silently at the chill of the water. Around them, crickets were already humming their nightly serenade. The wind swept through the reeds with a soft shushing sound. They were wading deeper, the water creeping up their waists, when Blue slipped and pitched forward, splashing about in alarm. Keith pulled him closer.

“Don’t worry,” Keith said quietly as he wrapped an arm around Blue’s waist. “I’ve got you.”

Blue nodded. He trusted Keith, his eyes seemed to say. Carefully, Keith brought them both out to deeper waters. Blue’s eyes widened as the water started to lap at his chin, and Keith paused.

“Can you still touch the bottom?” Keith asked. Blue nodded. “Good. I’m going to let go for a bit, just so I can show you what to do, okay?”

Blue was more hesitant at that, but nodded all the same. Keith did not go more than an arm’s reach away as he began to move his arms in slow, wide circles.

“See the way I’m moving my arms? I’m also kicking my legs just enough to keep my head above the water. This is how you tread water. It doesn’t take up much energy, but it won’t get you anywhere either. Give it a try,” Keith encouraged.

Blue began to move his arms, trying to mimic just how Keith was doing it.

“You have to kick your legs too,” Keith reminded him.

With a resolved expression, Blue hopped in the water and then dropped right under the surface. His arms flailed wildly and Keith rushed to pull him right back up. Blue sputtered and snorted and looked very confused. He clung to Keith with a silent desperation, his eyes seeming to say, “Please don’t let me go.”

“It takes a little getting used to,” Keith chuckled once he was sure Blue was okay. “Most people around here know how to swim as soon as they can walk, some even sooner. I suppose it goes with living right on the coast.”

Keith took to spinning them slowly in the water, almost like a dance. Blue did not object in the slightest. Neither of them moved to let go of the other.

“I was actually older than most when I first learned to swim,” Keith admitted. “I suppose that goes along with being a prince. Everyone wants to protect you. Shiro was really bad about that when I was little, but I eventually convinced him that it would be safer for me if I knew how to swim. So he got someone to teach me. It was actually here that I learned to swim. The water is calm, much more so than the ocean, so it’s a good place to learn.”

Blue pushed at Keith’s shoulder gently as though pushing away.

Keith raised his eyebrows. “You want to try again?”

Blue nodded.

“Alright then.”

There was no telling how much time passed as Keith and Blue splashed about in the lagoon. Keith laughed often and loudly, accompanied by Blue’s silent giggles. Blue was clumsy but eager. Once he moved his legs in such a way that Keith thought of a mermaid. When he teased as much, however, Blue only offered a tight smile in return. Keith, reminded of the petition from that very morning, wanted to ask what had Blue so bothered about it, but they were having a good time. He didn’t want to upset Blue if he didn’t have to. Besides, Keith could always ask later.

The stars above were already shining brightly by the time Blue could swim on his own, much to the delight of both of them. Keith led him through the waters of the lagoon, leading him towards a large, drooping willow that had always been Keith’s favorite place. Once or twice they heard some loud splashing that hadn’t come from either of them, that Keith brushed off as being some overzealous fish or other. By the look of it, Blue didn’t quite agree with him, but made no motion of protest.

Keith pulled aside the branches of the willow like a curtain, and was delighted to find the fireflies out in full force within. Blue, too, seemed overwhelmingly in awe of them, tapping Keith urgently on his shoulder and pointing excitedly. The water under the willow was shallow enough that Blue took to chasing after the bright bugs. He pouted when they slipped right through his fingers, and Keith couldn’t help but chuckle. With practiced poise, Keith scooped a few out of the air while Blue wasn’t looking. He called out to Blue, and when he came close enough, Keith released them, lighting up Blue’s already bright face.

Blue’s entire body shook with silent laughter. Keith smiled fondly. Then Blue went to try to catch some again. Keith was just about to show him how to do it when, just as Blue was staring with intense concentration at the bright bugs, when several of them flew straight into his cupped hands. Delighted, Blue moved over to Keith and released them just in front of him, a mimic of what Keith had done for him.

Keith laughed, the warmth in his chest a gentle contrast to the slight chill of the water. Blue was smiling, eyes shining. They were standing close now, just enough room to breathe. Keith didn’t move away. Neither did Blue.

“I wish I knew your name,” he whispered in the space between them. He laughed when Blue repeated that motion again, the one he always used to mime his name. “I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”

A harsh, whisper-like sound made Keith whip his head around. It had sounded like someone was there, but Keith couldn’t see anyone. There was no one there but him and Blue. Looks could be deceiving sometimes, however.

“Did you hear something?”

Blue shrugged. He mimed his name again.

“Okay, okay. It’s a type of weapon, right?” Blue nodded. “And it’s not a pike, or a spear, or a halberd… Probably not a staff, but then, you don’t normally jab with a staff anyways…”

Blue rolled his eyes. Keith thought he heard that whisper again, closer and more insistent. It almost sounded like someone saying--

“Lance?” Keith mumbled, eyes suspiciously roving their surroundings.

Excited splashing from Blue caught his attention again. He was nodding, pointing at Keith, and grinning widely. He mimed his name a third time.

“What? I said--oh! Lance! Your name is Lance!” Keith exclaimed.

Blue--or rather, Lance, grabbed Keith’s hand, jumping in what could only be described as sheer elation. Keith didn’t blame him. He’d probably be excited too if no one had been calling him by his name for almost two whole days.

“Lance,” Keith repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. Lance settled down, still smiling. “I don’t know how I didn’t guess that before… it suits you.”

Lance’s eyes locked with his, and Keith once more found himself entranced by how they seemed to be filled to the brim with the ocean itself. Keith had no doubt he could easily drown in them. He found he wouldn’t mind if he did. It was like a rip current pulling him out to sea. There was no swimming against it. Lance’s eyelashes fluttered, but it did little to deter Keith as the distance between them shrank. He could hear the soft rush of Lance’s breath as it went past his lips, like the rush of waves along the beach. It carried away the memory of a whisper, and let it sink to the ocean floor where all forgotten things went. Keith let his eyes close. There was no swimming against this current.

“Lance!”

Lance and Keith sprang apart from one another. Lance was frozen in place, equal parts horrified and furious. Just as quickly as the emotions came over him, however, they left, replaced by heavy dread. Hunk wouldn’t call out to him for no reason, not when Lance had been so close. Something was wrong.

Keith meanwhile was searching with his eyes and completely on guard. There would be no playing it off this time. He turned to Lance, eyes full of distrust.

“Who was—“

Before he could finish his question, Keith was dragged underneath the water with little more than a gasp. Lance plunged in after him unthinkingly. The water here was not like the water of the ocean, and so didn’t sting too much when Lance tried to open his eyes. There, just ahead, Keith was struggling against the hands of a very familiar mermaid with the tail of a shark. She had him from behind, her clawed hands clasped tightly around his throat. He kicked and thrashed wildly, but to no avail. The mermaid noticed Lance and said something, but all Lance could hear was a bubbly noise.

Lance tried to move towards them, but his human limbs were still awkward and unsure in the water. His lungs were already burning. He would have to resurface for air. But how far would this mermaid be able to get with Keith before Lance made it back down? How much longer could Keith last? Already his struggling was becoming sluggish. Lance pressed forward, his own need for air be damned. If Keith died here Lance was as good as dead anyways.

Only before he could even get close, strong arms wrapped around Lance and set to squeezing the life out of him. The pressure against his throat was enough to make him cough and sputter. Water began to flood him, betraying him where it had once been his friend. It burned like nothing Lance had ever experienced. He flailed as hard as he could, trying to get some leeway, but to no avail. Everything hurt. No matter what he did, Lance couldn’t stop the stuttering of his lungs, couldn’t stop taking in more water.

Lance locked eyes with the mermaid choking the life out of Keith, silently pleading for her to let him go, for something to make her let go, to go away and not bother them again! His thoughts were screaming as loud as his lungs, and in his fading consciousness he thought he saw the mermaid falter, thought he saw her hands loosen slightly…

And then Lance could breathe again. He didn’t know how or why, but he was coughing and retching and very much alive. Distantly he thought there’d been a golden flash before his eyes; Lance had thought he was well and truly dying. Now he wasn’t. Had Keith rescued him? Lance blinked the water out of his eyes, instinctively moving his mouth to call out. Keith was nowhere to be seen. He was still in danger.

Lance was getting ready to dive back into the water when Hunk surfaced dramatically, hauling an unconscious Keith along with him. He had a fierce air about him, one that Lance wasn’t quite sure he’d ever seen before. Hunk spotted Lance gaping.

“What are you doing?! Get out of the water!” he commanded.

Lance didn’t dare dally at that tone. He went as fast as his human body would take him. It was markedly slower than what he was used to, slower even than Hunk, who was encumbered by Keith’s weight. All the while he worried that one of the mermaids would return to finish off Keith, or himself, or perhaps Hunk for having gotten in the way. Despite his worries, they made it to shore safely, Lance taking Keith where Hunk could no longer go.

Immediately Lance pressed his ear to Keith’s chest. His heart was still beating, but his breath was coming in short, staccatoed gasps as though he were still drowning. Perhaps he was. There were bruises and scratches all along his neck, and a stark cut running down his cheek where the mermaid had evidently slipped when trying to get a hold of Keith. It was bleeding sluggishly. Lance looked to Hunk, who could offer nothing but a worried expression.

“I don’t know, bud,” Hunk said quietly.

Lance’s thoughts were racing faster than he could keep up with them. He’d started to breath as soon as he’d left the water, although he’d also had to cough up a substantial amount of water. He also hadn’t lost consciousness. Would Keith be alright if Lance let him be? Would he deteriorate? Lance checked to make sure Keith’s heart was still beating. It was. How much longer would that last?

Lance looked at Hunk again. Hunk was looking out towards the lagoon, occasionally ducking underwater to keep watch for those mermaids.

“I spotted them lurking around not too long after you guys got in the water,” Hunk explained. “I thought maybe they were just keeping an eye on you for Lotor, but then I started to wonder why he would need to do that. That’s why I was trying to get your attention.”

Lance frowned as guilt washed over him like the coming tide. It seemed Lance was as careless as usual. He looked down at Keith, who was still unconscious, still struggling to breathe properly. Perhaps it would’ve been better if he’d never become human at all, Lance considered.

“Lance, I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t your fault,” Hunk assured him.

Lance shook his head and began to move his hands, gesturing to himself, then to Hunk, and finally to Keith. It was hardly clear, and not nearly enough to express what he was trying to say. So instead, Lance turned away from Hunk and hugged himself tightly. He felt like he was drowning all over again.

“Lance,” Hunk called gently. “Lance, listen to me, this isn’t your fault. Whatever Lotor is up to is on him, not you.”

Turning back to Hunk, Lance gestured vaguely. Thankfully, Hunk seemed to understand.

“We knew from the beginning that Lotor might not be trustworthy. Maybe I don’t get why he’d want to drown you and Keith, but that just means that there’s something bigger going on that we just don’t know,” Hunk insisted.

Despite still being convinced that if he hadn’t been so reckless this would’ve never happened, Hunk’s words did spark something in Lance’s mind. It was something that Lance knew he couldn’t communicate with vague hand gestures, however, no matter how well Hunk knew him. So Lance took to drawing crudely in the sand that met the shallow water. Hunk squinted at the lines, trying to decipher their meaning.

“Okay, uhm… That’s the sun… And it’s rising… Wow, water, very specific… an arrow? Oh! You mean water in the direction the sun rises in, got it! Okay, okay, now we’ve got humans on boats, got it, and… merfolk? Wait, hold on, are they--?”

Hunk stopped short, his expression distraught.

“You’re not saying that there’s merfolk drowning humans again, are you?” Hunk asked.

Lance shook his head as he pointed to himself.

“But humans think so?”

Lance pointed at Keith and shook his head again.

“Not all humans, but some. How are they even sure it’s merfolk at all?”

Lance shrugged and then pointed out towards the lagoon.

Hunk blinked. “Lotor. What in the seven seas is he up to?”

Lance shrugged again and turned back towards Keith. Still breathing, if only just.

“Lance, I think I need to tell Allura what’s happening,” Hunk said slowly. “The last thing I want to do is leave you, but something is going on here and while I was able to take those two mermaids on my own this time, I only think that’s because they didn’t expect me to be here. They swam away as soon as they realized I was here. I don’t think we’ll be so lucky next time.”

Reluctantly, Lance nodded. As long as he and Keith remained on land, they were safe from Lotor’s reach. And he’d have Pidge, and to some extent Keith and Shiro and Adam. But what of Hunk and Allura and anyone else that got involved? Would they be safe from Lotor? Just what was Lotor trying to accomplish anyways?

As if reading Lance’s mind, Hunk said, “We’ll be fine. It’s not like Lotor is killing off merfolk, aside from you, anyways. I mean, look at what just happened! They turned tail as soon as I showed up! And you know Allura’s no pushover either.”

Lance nodded again, a little more certain this time. As if on cue, Keith began to cough violently, trying to expel all the water he’d inhaled. Hunk left with a silent nod to Lance. Keith rolled over onto his side, and Lance, not knowing what else to do, rubbed soothing circles on his back. Eventually Keith managed to take a huge gulp of air and flopped back onto his back, breathing hard.

He opened his eyes when Lance traced the edge of the cut on his cheek. Lance worried that those eyes would be full of distrust once more, as they had been when he heard Hunk call out for Lance. Keith’s eyes widened for a split second; Lance’s breath caught in his throat. Then he softened entirely, smiling as he took Lance’s hand with his.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he rasped.

Lance couldn’t take it anymore. Every nerve in his body seemed to snap with the force of his silent sobs. His breath came quickly, and just when Lance thought it couldn’t get any worse, his face suddenly felt hot and wet. He recoiled, realizing that there was something spilling out of his eyes. He pressed his hands to his eyes. Now was not the time to start leaking! He didn’t even know that this was a thing that happened to humans!

“Hey, hey,” Keith hushed, sitting up and taking Lance’s hands from him. “It’s okay, we’re okay.”

Lance shook his head, trying to tug his hands back. Things were most certainly not okay! Lotor was up to something devious and there was no telling what, humans were being drowned and they were blaming merfolk for it, Lance had managed to drag Keith into all of it, and now, on top of everything else, his face was leaking! Why had he ever thought becoming human would be a good idea?!

Keith wiped the wetness from his face, apparently not as concerned about it as Lance was.

“Hey, Lance, listen to me,” Keith said, as gentle as could be. “Everything’s going to be alright. We’re alive, we’re okay.”

Lance touched the cut on Keith’s face.

Keith shrugged, saying, “It could be worse.”

With some gentle coaxing, Keith helped Lance back into the vehicle they’d arrived in. The ride back to the castle was silent, punctuated only by Lance’s sniffles. Once in a while Keith would reach over and offer some gentle touch or other. Sometimes he would rub circles on Lance’s back, other times he would brush Lance’s hair back (although it was short enough that it was never in Lance’s face). Lance welcomed the contact, leaning into it every time.

The hour was late, and no one else was on the road. They made their return swiftly. Where before Lance had been reluctant to return to the castle, he now welcomed it. The castle meant safety. As long as they were here, they were safe. Lance glanced at the ocean just before they went inside. Was this to be part of his life as a human, should he make it past tomorrow?

Keith led Lance back to the room he’d stayed in the night before, clasping his hands tightly all the while.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he told Lance. “Change into something warm and dry.”

He turned to leave, but Lance held tight to his hand with a questioning expression.

“I have to talk to Shiro,” Keith explained.

When Lance still looked confused, Keith elaborated, “Whatever attacked us in the water wasn’t any ordinary fish. And it’s no coincidence that this happened the same day we got a petition from supposedly superstitious sailors.”

Lance’s eyes widened.

“There’s merfolk in the waters. And they’re trying to kill us.”

[sevenseasofrog]

Aye Aye Captain

Pairing- Roger Taylor x Reader/ Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary- Roger Taylor takes Halloween very seriously, you know...

Word Count- 1430

a/n- this has been a while in the making even though it’s hella short aha,, it was mainly a bit of fun but hopefully yall get something out it. take the ending as you please[ ;) ] and biggggggg love for @freedie-mercoory for giving me the inspiration for this story(if you could even call it a story ?!) anyway ,, enough of my rambling ,, enjoy !!

Halloween. One of your favourite nights ever since you were a little girl, one night a year where you could be anything you wanted to be without anyone being able to tell you otherwise. You stepped back from the large mirror in the bathroom to admire your handiwork- this year, for your 23rd Halloween, you had opted to dress as a mermaid, much to your boyfriend’s delight when he realised that this meant he could be the burly sailor he had ‘always dreamed of being’. This was a look that you were in fact particularly proud of; with your soft, iridescent makeup, a seashell bra clad with tiny rhinestones and a figure hugging skirt which splayed out at the bottom to emulate a mermaid’s tail and fins. Go big or go home, after all. This was not just a party Freddie had organised to celebrate Halloween, but also to celebrate the launch of the band’s new single ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ which was released that day after weeks of tireless work from the whole band.

“Babe! You ready yet?” you heard a chirp from down the corridor, “Yeah! Just gimmie one sec!”. Not wanting to make Roger late to his own launch party you set your beach curls with a little hairspray before heading out of the bathroom to put your shoes on. “Well, would ya just look at what the tide brought in eh?”, Roger was stood behind you with a smirk on his face, obviously a bit too happy that he had managed to conjure up that comment without help from Brian or Deacy. He was clad in a ruffled white shirt, black trousers held up with a chunky belt, a pair of black brown leather boots with an old waistcoat and a long jacket you had spent most of the week making. The look was topped of with his blonde locks cascading down from beneath a moth eaten pirate hat he had found at the market a few months earlier, insisting that it would eventually come in handy. “You don’t look so bad yourself Mr Taylor, in fact, you brush up quite nicely as a pirate”, you said, fixing the creases in his jacket as he wrapped his arms gently around you before leaning in for a kiss. “It’s Captain Rog tonight, yeah?” he had a cheeky grin smeared across his face, “Steady on ocean eyes... your good looks can only get you so far ya know!”. The pair of you shuffled down the corridor and out of the shared apartment, stepping out you felt a bitter chill run down the back of your neck as Roger flagged a vacant taxi. “Cromwell Road please mate”.

The drive was filled with a comfortable silence between You and Roger, it was relatively short journey, not too bad for a Friday night in Central London. Stepping out of the black cab the pair of you were almost instantly swamped by members of the press, thankfully, they were far more interested in Roger and what he had to say about Queen’s highly anticipated new single. Seconds felt like minutes and an eternity seemed to go by before you re-emerged from the herd of rowdy journalists and photographers. You turned the corner and had to pause for breath when you saw the extravagant display of coloured lights erupting from within the brick walls of Freddie’s enviable gated estate. A burly security guard was quick to unlatch the emerald green door when you and the ‘Captain’ approached. “Nice one, Buccaneer” Roger shouted with a grin. Although you had not yet passed through the heavy walls into Garden Lodge, the music you could hear was near deafening. “Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger Mister Taylor, you too Miss y/l/n” He spoke with a warm smile.

Entering the garden, the bass coming from the loudspeakers almost knocked you down, the vibrations heavy in your chest, “Lets go and find the crew yeah?!”. Surprised that Roger had managed to keep up his pirate act for an entire hour you took his hand, allowing him to guide you inside. You found yourself in Freddie’s lavish living room, the walls were adorned with magnificent paintings and most of the furniture was made from a luxurious red velvet or glossy mahogany. “y/n! Rog!”, you heard a familiar voice. Turning around you saw a tall slender figure with enough hair to hold the secrets of the galaxy. “Brian! So good to see you! It’s been too long mate!” You noticed he was dressed in robes of neutral tones and had a dark brown cape, along with a green lightsaber from Star Wars tucked down the side of his belt before he took you in for a hug. “Oi, Bri! You sneaky eel! You might be my best mate but hands off my girl!”. “Don’t you worry Rog, by the way, nice to see that you’ve finally dropped the act and gone back to how you spoke before you met y/n!” Brian said with a laugh, before Roger threw a playful punch towards his taller friend. “Where’s his Highness then Bri?” Roger began to interrogate, “It’s his fucking party but I’ve not heard a peep from him at all!”. “No point worrying about it love, c’mon, let’s go and get some drinks and I’m almost positive we’ll bump into him”, you spoke gently with a reassuring tone, not wanting Roger to worry about his friend’s whereabouts.

Needless to say, you were not wrong(when were you ever though?), and the pair of you caught Freddie on the way back from the bar he had set up in his kitchen for the night. “y/n! darling! you look incredible! those years of studying design really did pay off eventually!”. To be honest, although slightly intoxicated, Freddie wasn’t wrong, the time you spent studying design and fashion was not wasted, especially on nights like these. “You pulled this together for Rog too!? My God you never fail to amaze me”, “Freddie you’re too kind to me!”, he really was- as one of his best friends he was always going out of his way to spoil you rotten. “You know I’ll always be your biggest fan!”, “And I am yours! don’t ever forget that Mr Mercury!”. Following your warm interaction with the man of the hour he quickly entangled himself in a conversation with Roger, the two of them laughing as they spoke.

The more you drank, the hazier the night became, and you and Roger were clutching onto each other for balance by the early hours of the morning. Freddie send round his assistants to take polaroid’s of all the guests and giving them as favours. As the shorter man took the photo of you and Rog the flash pierced both of your eyes, leaving you slightly stunned. “Shiver me timbers that was bright” he slurred, sliding the two photos which were taken into his pocket. “We’ll check them in the morning, it’ll be a laugh yeah?”, “You know it babes”, unsure if he would be able to understand what you had just said. The pair of you flopped down onto one of the red velvet sofas in Freddie’s lounge, which was now dimly lit and the only noise was coming from the amplified record player which had been switched on earlier that hour, playing soft classical music. You looked up at the high ceilings before looking back to Roger, both of you practically staring into each other’s souls by this point. You both leaned in and you wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing your fingers to become entangled in his hair, while his calloused hands cupped your soft but flushed cheeks.

You had become so engulfed by each other that neither of you noticed Deacy well and truly passed out on one of the many sofas which filled the room. You had only spoken to him once before he slipped off again to seek out new conversation with anyone who was still sober enough to have the faintest clue what he was on about. “Woah Rog! Wait, Stop! We can’t, not now! Deacy’s still here whether we like it or not!”, You spoke with a hushed tone, noticing that you and Roger’s current makeout session was becoming more and more heated by the second. For the man of the hour however, this did not seem to be an obstacle, and he continued to wrap his arms around you, focusing on every movement. He had taken off his jacket and slung it over the side of the sofa, engulfing you once again.

“Not to worry love…

After all…

Dead men tell no tales.”

[im-fairly-whitty]

-slides a corn chip- tell me, what's your eel story?

NOW I HAVE THREE (3) CORNCHIPS.

Sorry it took so long, but here’s the long-awaited eel story I hinted at in the tags of this post.

Alrighty, so when I was twelve my family lived in New Zealand for a bit, it was amazing. I live in the desert, so going to a country where there’s lush foliage EVERYWHERE boggled my mind. I fell in love with the ocean (the Raglan and Whangamata beaches are my favorites) and their ice cream, and living out of a pull-behind camper for months on end and setting up at a new beach every other night while we roamed around the islands.

I was an animal nut as a kid, and my parents Thornberried me (that’s a verb now), taking us kids on extensive hikes and birdwatching trips, so I knew the name of everything that moved out in the bush (forest) as well as the beach and loved every minute of it. 

But let me tell you about eels. 

So New Zealand doesn’t have snakes. Like at all. Because of this most everything on the island evolved to be round and fluffy and flightless. Although feline and canine and mustelid predators have made their way to the NZ wilds, the government has never ever allowed a serpent onto their islands, they even keep snake skins from being brought in. 

This means that the New Zealand longfin eel is the closest thing to a snake that they’ve got, and these guys sure are something. They grow up in freshwater inland in streams and rivers and lakes, then when they want to get it on they swim all the way out to the ocean to get a date and have some kids.

 ^^ First date, aren’t they adorable?

But anyway, as a kid I’d see these river noodles swimming in streams, mostly at dusk, when they came out to hunt. And these guys arent itty bitty either:

^^Try this on for size. 

They can get several meters long.

They’re normally pretty harmless if you’re on land, some places you can even feed them as an attraction, but if you get in the water they can get feisty. Not only that, but they’ve got several rows of tiny teeth in their mouths that point backward, meaning that if any part of you gets in their mouth…it’s not coming back out…They’ve been known to slowly mangle livestock to death that have become trapped in river gullies, pulling them apart bit by bit.

So! What’s my story? 

This is the story of when 12 year-old Wit went eeling in the middle of the night in the middle of the bush.

I was on a girl’s camping trip, a bunch of pre-teens from my neighborhood, and our camp leader and her husband were leading the way on this adventure that was distinctly non-American:

Exhibit a: We’re busting through the middle of the bush and pitch our tents in a clearing. Mr Campleader looks to the treeline and points, saying “Eh, right over there, my dogs and me got a 300 kilo wild-boar a couple weeks back.”

B: It’s the middle of the night and we’re roused from our sleeping bags, because it’s time to go eeling, eel fishing. You see, eels only come out when it’s dark, really dark, and so we go hiking off into the forest. Single file, and being as quiet as we can because Mr. Campleader has told us that there’s more wild boar roaming this part of the woods. (Boar that btw can slice open a grown man with their razor-sharp tusks.)

C: We’re all silent as we hike through the trees, and we hop a fence or two. That’s when the headlamps all get turned off, because we’re getting close to the eels, who hate light. 

“Alright, split into pairs,” Mr. Campleader says, pulling something out of his pack. It’s cubed raw ox heart, and he starts putting pieces on fishooks tied to a length of fishing line. “I’ll take you to the sinkhole once you’ve got your line prepped.”

Oh yeah, there’s a sinkhole.

“So this sinkhole,” he says, “it drops about three meters down to the water. Don’t you go falling in or they’ll start taking bites of you, just like my bro’s cow last summer. Poor thing was in the water for days, had to shoot her when they finally found her, the state she was in. Poor thing.”

Being the chronically overeager child I am, I grab a far less excited looking partner and volunteer to go first, so Mr. Campleader helps lift me over the last livestock fence and leads the two of us by the hand in the pitch black forest. 

We’re being quiet, but as I blindly follow him through the trees I hear splashes, it’s the eels hearing us coming and diving back into the water below. 

Did I mention that eels can walk on land?

Their coming of age quest to return to the ocean will lead them to go for strolls on their tiny stiff fins across paths and pastures when necessary. Or basking on the edges of sinkholes in the middle of the night. 

Mr. Campleader, who apparently can see in the dark, sits me down in the dark. He whispers that I’m at the very edge of the sinkhole, so not to move at all, and helps me toss my baited hook down into the water below, the end of the string wound around my hand.

Oh, and my partner? He sits her down behind me, and has her wrap her arms around my waist.

This you see, is to prevent me, a twelve-year-old girl, from being forcefully yanked down into the sinkhole by the very eels I’m trying to catch.

This is also approximately the point when I begin to question the wisdom of this entire situation.

Mr. Campleader goes to get the resto f the girls seated around the sinkhole and I sit in the dark for a long time with my human anchor. I’m seriously considering where my life choices have led me at such an early age, when the line in my hand twitches. 

And then the line in my hand yanks.

Already hyped on “I might possibly die tonight” adrenaline, I jolt and frantically whisper for Mr. Campleader to come. I’m still supposed to be quiet, so I let the line yank at me as I stage whisper as loud as I can. Mr. Campleader hurries over and I start to pull on my line, but then it snaps slack. Mr. Campleader pulls up the frayed end for us to see in the light of his headlamp.

“Ah, see? You left her on the line too long, all her teeth sawed through the line.”

You know.

Like fish usually do to fishing line.

It’s fine.

My line’s rehooked and rebaited, I’m applauded for getting the first bite of the night and told to call sooner if it happens again. 

Now my anchor and I are much tenser now we know they’re down there. 

And it’s not too terribly long before my hand is pulled downwards again with a mighty jerk.

Mr. Campleader crashes over as my anchor and I whisper hysterically, the line getting heavier as we try to stand and I reel up the line hand over hand as quickly as I can. He reaches over with his huge Maori arms and grabs the line, powerfully yanking it up. 

There is an image forever branded in my memory, and it’s the circle of light from his headlamp illuminating a glistening and writhing length of slimy grey muscle hanging from my fishing line. For an awful and awe-inspiring moment my eel, twice as thick around as my own neck, hangs there, and then suddenly, it drops back down into the water with a splash. 

Mr. Campleader is devastated.

“I am so sorry!” he cries, grabbing his hair, “I lost you your eel! She must have been six feet long! I should have pulled it up faster, it got off the hook, it must have been nine feet long! I am so so sorry!”

I shakily tell him not to worry about it. 

I’m suddenly very grateful not to have six feet of angry eel on my hands in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere. 

No one else gets a bite the rest of the night and we eventually pack up and head back to camp. The next morning Mr. Campleader tells us he set an eel trap downstream yesterday in case we didn’t catch anything and he holds up the trap triumphantly to show a very much alive two-foot eel inside. 

I am the only one of the girls willing to go near it, so I fish the little guy out and hold him while the others gather around. You know how some people think snakes are slimy, but they aren’t? Well, eels are slimy, really slimy. they’re coated from tip to tail in a thick layer of mucus that clings to your skin when you handle them, and soon my hands and arms are covered in the slippery clear substance.

He was actually pretty docile and I was careful to hold him right, having had countless pets in my day. Picture were taken, the others tentatively touched it while I calmly held him, and then Mr. Campleader announces brightly that its time for our next activity. He takes the eel from me, cuts its head off with his hunting knife, and then shoos us away to wash our hands.  

We spend the afternoon decorating pillowcases while said eel bleeds out, hung from a nearby tree. 

You know, normal girls camp stuff.

Later that day as we pull back into town Mr. Campleader’s brought fish and chips for everyone, with a surprise side dish of the eel, who has been battered and deepfried. 

I’ve had eel and eel sauce since then, but friends, perhaps you will understand when I tell you that I did not eat a single bite of that particular eel that day.

[godseyegalaxy]

Candle and the Wax Flower 3

From afar the massive bodies looked just like caped sized boats. Maybe discolored in the twilight blue, but it was a risk the pirate captain was willing to take. Summer storms were common, and a capsized boat could bring in treasures, information, or occasionally, people. Icora wasn’t in the business of selling lives, but, as she learned early on, people were good for other things too. When the ship moved closer rocking steadily in the placid water, and found the sea a deep ink color, the crew were glad of the little detour.

Mermen and women lay floating, shifting along with the waves and current underneath. Icora watched as their whale-like bodies bobbed up and down. It was a tragedy, the death of such a long-lived creature, but, as the captain said, with tragedy comes trove. Just one semi-preserved body could gain a small fortune, depending on the buyer.

She ordered her crew to try and grapple one of the bodies—that’s all that they would need—and bring in onto the boat. She didn’t want to say a small one, a child, but the crew understood. They went to work immediately, setting up a pulley system and gathering nets.

Brinkley stood and watched from above, watched the waters as if he was counting all the bodies. His black features showing no emotion. Icora let her crew work and joined her first mate as he stared off into the horizon.

“They’ll sink to the bottom.” He said, slowly pulling away from his trance to look at her. His captain, worn by the sea storm wind and pelting rain, but not by age itself.      

“Hail and well met to you too.” Was all she said.

He stared at her, black eyes reflecting the gold lamp light and blinked once, twice. “I… I’m sorry, Captain, please forgive me. Its just…” His eyes glazed over again. “I have the strange feeling that something is not right.”

“There are bodies the size of ships scattered in the hundreds here, Brinkley I know something is wrong.”

“It’s… not just that.” He turned his gaze back out to the waters. The light was gone now. “The merpeople should be sinking. Bodies sink.”

Icora didn’t have the energy to ask just how well Brinkley knew that fact. She already knew that he’d swam with enough dead and debris by his side to speak the truth. But still, his discomfort was off putting. Brinkley would worry about the smallest of things, yes, but when it came to dangers, a rising storm, a pissed off business dealer, Brinkley never showed traces of secondary thoughts. What was he really thinking?

Just as she was about to reply, Denokin, a workmen and a skilled wood carver, shouted the captain’s name from below.

Both Icora and Brinkley looked down and the scrambling men and women. Half of them pulled on ropes and levers, while the other half switched from staring down into the water to readying their weapon.

“Captain Icora, there’s something thrashing in the waters coming closer to the ship!” Denokin yelled. “We think another group of merfolk.”

“Naturally.” Icora said to no one in particular, then, “Work to get the body on board, everyone!” Her voice booming in the night-nipped air. Icora grabbed Brinkley’s arm and lead him to the main deck, half readied weapons leaning against the wooden wall. With her people on one side of the deck, the other lay free for just the two of them.

“Do you want me to help pull up the body?” Brinkley’s voice was still far off, like he was still trying to solve the puzzle.

“No. I need you to tell me what you see. What you hear. Quickly.”

Icora knew what she saw; blue black waves reaching out to make what she had the unfortunate habit of calling home, dark islands appearing like tumors on the horizon, carcasses floating face down and, if she strained her eyes against the orange glow emanating behind her, she could see bursts of water exploding from the surface, meters above the highest sail.

“Screams.” Brinkley said. Then, as if hit in the chest, he woke and looked around frantically. “Screams, Icora, there are two still alive and they fight under the water, something- something to do with a gang.”

“Is it something that needs interfering?”

“I don’t know. The little one won’t survive against him. There is more than we dont understand.”

“I know.” Icora said as she shed off her heavy coat and outer accessories.

“What are you doing.” He didn’t wait to start shedding his own coat, holding onto a sleek dagger with his teeth as he did.

“If ‘He’ wins and finds out we’re taking one of his own aboard then we might be next on his kill list. I’d rather pass on that.”

Brinkley nodded and turned to watch the encroaching geyser. Like a clockwork machine, Icora issued command after command, grabbing rope and tying it securely around herself and the end of the deck. Teket and Salem joined them, fashioning Brinkley a harness like Icora’s and quickly equipped them both, captain and first mate, with more daggers.

“Icora!” Brinkley shouted, now finally seeing individual scales on the mermaid’s tail, how some of them were torn off and bloodied.

Without another word, Icora dove into the water.

-

Tio screamed in fury as another cut appeared on his face-- A high pitched scream that made the water shake in his fury. More blood seeped into the warm, blackened waters as his tail, thick and rattled with scars, pinned Cere in the rush of water.

As small as Cere was compared to the gang leader, she spit and clawed at his eyes like she was equal in size. Her hair whipped around them, blurring the lines between herself and her soon to be murderer and her screams of rage matched his in intensity. Cere wanted to bite out his throat. There was once a time where she was trained to defend herself. To fight. But with every one dead in the water, there wasn’t a point to keep appearances up.

Killed them. Killed them all. This bastard kill all her brothers and sisters and threated to lay waist to The Mother. Cere felt the brush of cold, dead flesh against her forearm and struggled to move beyond it. No one ever took them seriously, no one would ever dare hurt the mother of the deep. But these bastards.

White hot anger clouded her vision as she screamed again. She pulled her arm free from his grasp and, ignoring the pain, shot forward, clawing his eyes again.

They poisoned their bodies-- sick fucks—and cried out for war. Cere and her siblings only knew something was wrong when they died smiling, viscous and animal. They figured out soon enough, however.

And now their bodies float. Never to see the bottom of the ocean and thus, rest. Not like her siblings. Not like her.

She pushed out of his range, Tio barely missing her torn and ruined fin. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He mattered. His death mattered.

There was a moment of silence. Her long hair swirled through the water as she spun circles in the water. They looked at each other, the last of each tribe as far as Cere knew, and she the only one standing between him and The Mother.

A low growl emanated from her chest. Now was not the time to think. Another dagger found its way into her hand, one of his martyrs. She surged forward, aiming for his chest.

But just before she could, a column of loud, white bubbles appeared to their side. A flash of metal flew through the water and caught on Tio’s arm. The bubbles cleared to show two creatures, swimming with unbelievable speed towards her and Tio.

Cere’s vision flashed white as Tio’s hands raked across her face, pulling her hair down. It seemed that the dagger didn’t bother him, nor the other beings. Cere screamed again, reaching up and pulling at his own hair, pulling and pulling until chunks started to pull off his skull. She wondered briefly why he didn’t pull hers.

Maybe he was more a gentleman than her.

Cere ripped and clawed at his face, adrenaline bursting through her veins once again. She had to do it now. Kill him now. And then deal with the intruders.

Except, she didn’t have time.

A surprisingly strong arm wrapped around her torso and pulled her away from Tio. She saw through her tendrils of hair an arm pull down on rope before she was being pulled through the water again.

Pulled and pulled and pulled and-

Cere felt her whole body grow heavy the water was stripped from her side. Hot moist air hit her lungs as she automatically switched. She coughed and flailed and tried to see what had a hold on her. Tried to see period. Her hair clung to her skin making it impossible to tell what was hers and what was her captor.

She tried to scream but just coughed up more water.

-

The pulsing thing in her arms wasn’t easy to pull out of the water, much less hauling her up to the ship deck. Icora’s hands grew numb from holding onto the rope and the slippery mermaid’s body as tightly as she could, there were even a few moments where she thought she would drop the struggling mermaid back into the waters.

Icora thought that it would prefer that.  It clicked and gasped against her and only flailed more as the crew grabbed them both and pulled them over the rail. It was like an actual fish, and she some crazed buffoon without tools. The difference between the creature in her arms and a fish was the hair and the black and half broken talons that threatened to slice through her skin.

As gracefully as she could muster, Icora untangled herself from the maid’s slimy and tangled hair. A thick piece of cloth landed on the wood beside her and she picked it up to dry herself, thanking someone in some direction. Icora wasn’t one to be surprised by a great many things, but how deeply the cloth turned red shocked her. If this was the blood on her, how much was the thing…

It gasped again, blood and water oozing out of its mouth. The gathered crowd around them shifted on their feet, unsure of what to make of living, breathing creature. Then, it braced as if about to scream, but no sounds escaped. It was the mermaid’s turn to be shocked. She raked her hair out of her face and growled as the yellow light met her eyes. Her movements were clumsy, but the scowl on her face proved that she was a predator. A predator out of its habitat.

Icora couldn’t help but laugh.  

That laugh did two things, it made the crew relax, all of them breathing a collective sigh of relief as they realized their captain was in no way worried about the legendary creature before them. And, it put a target on her back, given the way the mermaids head wiped to her and black, soulless eyes close to slits. It tried to move back, but the sudden heaviness of her own body meant she could only go a few inches before giving up. Truly a fish out of water.

Icora heard a gasp as the rope behind her pulled twice. Brinkley. Still in the water?

The crew jumped into action, moving to help pull the rope with, hopefully, the first mate in tow. The mermaid hissed as unfiltered light hit her and she made to cover her face.

Icora wondered if the mermaid saw her roll her eyes and grab her coat where it lay on the deck, if she saw or sensed her coming up behind her to through the jacket over her head, shielding her from the harsh light, only because of the look of calm beauty that slackened her face as the mermaid looked up at her. She was an animal, a fierce predator. But she was still a being. Person, debatable. But a thing with feelings and needs, absolutely.  

The maid stopped making sounds of protest or anger. Or, whatever it was feeling. But after that quick moment of peace, a loud thump sounded behind them and the mermaid hissed.

Icora turned to see her first mate, breathing heavily but breathing all the same, with a mass slumped next to him; the merman.

Unlike the maid, who’s skin was silvery blue and covered in scales, slim with hair longer than Icora was tall, the male creature had thick gray skin riddled with scars, a flat head and a wide mouth with large, triangular teeth. A shark. Icora glanced back at the maid, now staring intently at the male. That little fish was fending off a shark. On the other hand, a man killed a creature double his size and then pulled them both out of the water. Icora knew she shouldn’t be impressed, but, she was.

The crew stood clear of the captain and first mate, some of them going back to their previous tasks, as Icora walked over. He didn’t even look harmed.

“Dead?” She asked, nudging the merman’s face with her boot.

“Ey, took a while to take him down though.”

“You were in his territory.”

“It didn’t give him much an advantage.”

She let out a heavy laugh, pulling Brinkley to his feet. He winced as he steadied himself, but Icora could tell it was more an act then actuality.

“That just leaves us with this one.” She nodded towards the crumbled mass of fish behind her and, was surprised to see it had moved closer to them. Perhaps its loud thrashing before was only to throw them off, or it was finally used to the different environment.

The creature pulled itself forward with her talons, hair sometimes snagging on the wood and, Icora let her. Let her crawl towards the dead merman, even moved out of the maid’s path. Even will all her knowledge of the sea, Icora knew little of the mermaids that dwelled under the surface, that is to say, barely no one knew about them. Their customs, language, even their appearance was documented poorly. So, Icora let the mermaid get closer, just incase if there was something she didn’t understand.

-

Cere watched out of the corners of her eyes, watched her captor and the other one-- the other, dirty and foul and revolting one who killed Tio and infected the air with its … miasma -- as she inched closer to the dead body. She found the killing blow, the foreign knife sticking out of his neck, and felt a tangible net of anger over her. This was her kill. This was her vengeance. And that… Thing standing above the two of them stole it from her.

Faster than they could stop her, Cere pulled out the dagger from his neck and plunged it into his eye socket. It was easier than she had expected, since there was no eye in it. Blood still pooled out though, caking her hand again with his blood. She felt the net wither away then, her anger dissipating into the wood like the blood and seawater. The Pirate’s laugh a distant, weak sound.

She looked up at them, the pirates, and thought about all the stories her people would whisper about them. How stupid but deadly and persistent they were. Their greed and how it would drive them to the ends of the earth to find the things they wanted. How mermaids were treated by them, and how it was common for mermaid to treat them.

She ran her eyes down her two captors. Wet and clothes sticking to them, watching her and speaking without regard to her very presence, the gold adorning their dark, sun damaged skin. She should kill them. Kill them all and let the ghost ship float along. Or let the Mother take care of them.

But she couldn’t- couldn’t get the Mother at least, not with the bodies, poisoned and rotted, floating out there. She needed to… she needed…

Cere heaved her chest, trying to make a noise other than clicks and growls, but only breathy moans escaped past her lips. It did the job though, capturing their attention again. They needed to watch this. To figure out what it meant if words wasn’t enough.

She carefully pulled the knife back out of Tio’s corpse and wiped it on his skin. The Thing stepped back a moment, but the one she was interested in stayed put. Cere made eye contact with the woman, grabbed a chunk of her hair and started to cut it, right by her scalp. There was a flash of surprise, but then, amazingly, recognition flashed though the woman’s face. A pit of almost regret grew from the bottom of her chest. There was something more to this pirate woman.

It took time. More time that Cere liked, but it gave her the opportunity to formulate a real plan. To think things through. All the while the Pirate never deviating from her gaze.

When she finished, she gathered her hair into one bundle and held it out towards the pirate. There was a moment of silence where she felt more than just the Things eyes on her, but she waited, her eye fixed on the other’s, the Captain.

-

Icora knew what the mermaid was asking. No, telling her what to do. To take the hair, yes, and to probably sell it for huge amounts of money or keep it as a trophy. But it was more than that. Icora hardly believed her eyes as the creature sawed off her long, inky black hair, yet here it was; the offer.

Icora knelt down and untiled the ribbon she used to tie her own hair back from her wrist and carefully, deliberately, tied the mermaid’s hair together. This close again she could see the iridescence of the mermaid’s skin, hear her heaving unused lungs, realize that black blood flowed from her scalp and not some trick of the light. Icora stepped back and waited for the mermaid to make the next move.

But instead of pushing herself back towards the railing. The mermaid held the hilt of the dagger and placed it gently, but meaningfully, on her chest.

Icora smirked. “A trade? Your hair, worth more than this entire ship, for that little dagger?” the captain spoke, knowing full well that the mermaid could not understand her, however, the creature took the tone and just thumped her chest again. Icora raised an eyebrow.

“She can keep it.” Brinkley said, with more venom than Icora had ever heard from him. Icora waited for an explanation, but none came.

The creature hit the floor to get their attention again. She then tilted her head towards the other merman’s body. The small one they’d pick out of the sea and was lying on the ground much like the shark; torn and bloodied. Instead of being pissy, the mermaid pointed out into the black sea and made a grasping motion, lifted her fist above her head, and then laid it down on the ship deck. Her eyes already gleamed with irritation, as if expecting them to not understand.

And just for kicks, Icora turned towards Brinkley. He didn’t even want to speak in the mermaid’s presence, much less try to understand its meaning, but the first mate sighed and said through his teeth.

“Collect the floating bodies. Then take them away.”

“Do you know why they’re floating? And not sinking to the sea floor?” Icora smiled and crossed her arms. There was, after all, a reason he was her first.

He didn’t answer right away, as per usual, instead her stared out into the black. Icora did too, spotting dots of bioluminescence amidst black masses.

“They poisoned their own bodies. With red algae, I think, but then, something more… I can’t tell. They wanted their corpse to sink.”

“Then there’s something down there? Something that likes to eat? Interesting.” Icora glanced down at the mermaid again, smiled, and stuck out her palm. It was a beautiful night to make a deal.

“My name is Icora. Proud Captain of this fine ship and, let’s say, an adventurer by trade. I understand your wishes, and I think I can get the results. I also believe… that we’ll be great partners if you should accept.”

Brinkley swore under his breath and turned from them. “Captain, it doesn’t even understand us. It can’t be work the safety of our crew, we know nothing about-”

“Brinkley, don’t be rude. We don’t know what we don’t know. So let’s find out.”

He wiped is face down, the late hours and no sleep finally showing on his frame. “I knew you would say that.”

Icora smiled, though she doubted he could see her in the low light. She glanced down at her own hand, a silent but persistent ask to take it and, after spitting in the first mate’s direction, the mermaid carefully laid her palm flat against hers, understanding of her own glowing in her black eyes. There was a framiliar prickling sensation, like needles poking her palm.

“It’s done then, part-“

The mermaid’s voice silenced everything, everyone, on the ship deck. Icora even felt Brinkley tense all muscles, poised to either attack or run. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her crew halted in whatever they were doing, just to hear the accent of the deep ocean.

“What did you say?” Icora hummed, her heart beating faster than she could remember. She tried to keep the excitement from her voice.

“Cere.” The mermaid’s mouth parted and closed again, still trying to use parts of her body that were never needed before. Her forehead crinkled in concentration, trying to sound out works she’d never spoken, but somehow knew to say. “Na-mes. Cere.” She indicated their still touching hands. “Paretnarus.”

Icora savored the moment, from being the first person to ever, successfully, make a pact with a mermaid right down to the slimy cool touch of her skin. She was sure she’d remember this for a long time, sure that soon enough she’d grow friendly toward the mermaid and framiliar with its touch.

“Yes. Partners.”

[leroyzboots]

Fantasy AU Chapter Seven: I Have Very Poor Taste In Friends

The light mist of morning air awoke May Walker from her sleep. As she sat up, she realized she was in her own bed for once and a stupid, dopey grin spread across her face. Anxiously rubbing the bandage over her eye, she pulled on her hoodie and gazed out the window. Her brother had already awoken and was lugging large scraps of metal across the yard, throwing them atop the other pile. May secretly admired her brothers strength, as she was never that strong, no matter what form she took. Stepping out, she strolled over to where he was working. Noticing her, Jay flashed her a warm smile, the dark circles under his eyes almost gone. But there was still a worried look in them. “Hey May, you feeling better?” He walked over to the small garden where there mother kept flowers, mostly lavender. May was uneasy and cautious, as she was allergic to lavender, but there was no need. They were all dead and blackened, wilted as though they had died from the inside out. “Mom and Dad aren’t really out of town, are they?” May knew in the way Jay’s shoulders slumped that they were gone. “They went to look for you and never came back,” Jay muttered under his breath. May felt a wave of guilt wash over her, but she shook her head. “There are others like us we need to find,” she stated decidedly. “Anyone could be this way. Skylar, the principal, that one kid with black hair and green streak.” Jay gave May an uncertian look. “You mean the one who keeps yammering about the wind?” May groaned, thinking to herself that Jay was never gonna take her seriously again. “Tell you what,” Jay said suddenly. “I’ll go to school and see what I can find, but you stay here, alright?” May nodded virgorously, her smile returning. “I’ll be back faster than I can talk.”

Jay didn’t come back the next morning. May clung to her knees, worry had seeped its way into her already, festering in the darkest parts. A loud bang sent a pang through her stomach. Carefully opening the door, she stepped outside, praying it was only Jay or Zane. A long black wing shot out at the speed of light and lifted her up by her neck. Through the blur in her eye, she could make out the face of the very boy they had discussed earlier, but different. Long black wings dripped from his back like ink, and deep green armour covered his body. “Well done, Lloyd,” a voice called that sent utter fear through May’s body. Out slunk Nya, her full siren form in all its glory. The fins jutted from her ears, her lower half turned into a blue tail that curled around her body. “If it isn’’t good old Carrots.” Nya grinnned brightly, that usual touch of insanity stronger than usual. “If it isn’t the mythic I’ve been searching for.” May struggled to breathe, but managed to squeeze out a sentence. “What’s a mythic?” Nya cackled at this. “You are my dear. Thousands of years ago, us hybrids wanted only to belong. But you didn’t want us to. You locked our powers away and left us to die and become Dark Ones.” Nya leaned in close to May’s face, a small laugh creeping its way into her voice. “But not anymore.” A large ball of white light shot past Nya, hitting Lloyd square in the chest, his wing retracting in pain. May fell to the ground hard, gasping for breath. Her attention turned to  the direction of the light, and there stood the nindroid, his frame slimming and his bird-like fairy wings unfolded gracefully. Nya drew her tail back, as though to strike, and out of sheer instinct, May thrust her hands out, a long strand of the same white light shooting from nowhere. It wrapped around the siren, and she screamed and tugged at it, burning its way into her skin. May's centaur body unfolded beneath her, and stared at her hands in shock. "May!" The thick black haired boy called to her from across the junkyard, beckoning her to run. May hesitated, but the look in Nya's eyes showed no mercy. Letting go, May ran as fast as her hooves could carry her, the loud thump of the Dark One hitting the ground fading quickly.

The girl sat huddled in the far corner of Cole's home, her knees shaking violently. The spiky haired lampad stepped cautiously into the room, the others filed in suit. "Are you alright?" Kai asked, not stepping too closley to May. "My brother is gone, and I've been running for a week now because your psycho of a sister is hunting me down." May stood on her feet, glaring the three down. "I am not ok." Cole almost snarled. "Don't come at us like that," he retorted, shoving the others out of the way. "We're doing all we can to help." May laughed out loud, hints of insanity touching her voice, as she pressed on, taking more steps with every word. "You were a great help, watching and doing nothing." May could see Kai's hands curl into fists, she was touching nerves. And she didn't care. "Where were you?" She added, snapping at the goblin. "I had to take care of my dad," he protested, but May laughed again. "Oh yes, your dad. Another asshole who did nothing." The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, as the three hybrids stood glaring each other down and Zane watched in anticipation. "At least you had a home and a family who loved you," Kai spat angrily, his temper getting the better of him. "So it's my fault now?" May shreiked indignantly, her arms flailing wildly. And Kai snapped. "Everything is your fault!" He screamed, shoving May hard. "Nya's hunting you because you pissed her off, and now we have nowhere to go she won't find us, and I can't even go home!" The girl stood silent for a while, her blood racing and her face red. "I'm beggining to think," she muttered lowly;"That I have very poor taste in friends." She shoved past them, heading for the door. "Where are you going?" "Anywhere but here."

The night grew cold fast as May tumbled through the dark alleyways. She needed to find her brother, but she had no place to start. Her knees grew weak and they buckled. She expected to hit the ground, but arms had wrapped around her. She gazed up into the face of a tan girl with grey hair and green eyes. She spoke with a British accent, and seemed very young. "Are you all right?" She asked worriedly. "What's your name?" "May," The centaur said unsteadily. The other girl smiled brightly. "My name is Angela."

Hi guys! Still kinda dead, but here's an extra long chapter for you while I come back. Btw, this is only book one, and I've planned out the rest of the story. Hope you enjoy and March of the Oni- I mEan - Merry Christmas!