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evolutionsvoid · 1 year ago

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When environments go bad, people typically think that the wildlife vanishes completely. If a pond gets polluted, or a bunch of the vegetation in a forest dies, then surely nothing is going to stick around! Indeed, it is true that upsets in ecosystems can cause numerous species to vanish from them. It is certainly a sign, and a bad one at that. Like amphibians disappearing from your local lake or marsh. When the frogs stop singing, something ain't right. However, there are also instances where new life entering the picture can be an equally bad sign. "But Chlora!" some of you may say "Isn't having new species come into an ecosystem a good thing? Isn't more life better?" To that I say: have you been reading these? Because if you are thinking that adding species to a habitat is always a plus, then I am about to launch an entire tome's worth of invasive species issues right into your face. Some creatures are simply not meant to be in places, be it lack of predators, lack of usual food source or other environmental factors. Some may be invasive, while others are simply in an area where they shouldn't be! Like, if you had a pond and suddenly saltwater fish started living in it. You would be like "hey, isn't this a fresh water body?" Well apparently not anymore! An extreme example, yes, but I am trying to convey something here. Not sure if I am doing a great job at it. Here's another example, using the star of this entry: the Doratabo!

Before we can get into it proper, we need to know what a Doratabo is. The Doratabo is a species of fish, though not exactly in the fish form you expect. They have a long body, a large head and, most noticeably, a pair of limbs. Where one would expect fins, the Doratabo has a rather simple pair of forearms. Though there are digits at the ends of these arms, don't think that this fish is scaling cliffs or picking up swords. These arms are rather thin in comparison to the rest of their body, and even their clawed fingers aren't that sharp or tough. The most these limbs do is dig through the mud or help drag themselves along the ground. This brings me to the next noticeable feature of this species, and its the fact that you often see them out of the water! While they are indeed fish, the Doratabo has a wet hide that allows it to absorb air, like an amphibian would! Even their throats have this lining that lets them swallow air and breath without using their gills! This is good for them, because it means they can spend time outside of a particular water body and not worry about suffocating. It also lets them traverse the shores or move to better pools instead of being trapped in one place! They use this air breathing so much, that they are commonly found on mudflats, river shores and places where the waters have receded. Though they don't need water to breath, they do need moisture for their skin to take in air, so they are still reliant on places that have plenty of water or dampness. Mud is their favorite, so much so that locals would say that they are born from it. Make a mud puddle on your property, and Doratabo will magically pop out of it! But more on that later!

The muddy shores and flats are where they like to hang out, and it is also where they hunt. Their big mouths are used for swallowing up insects, crabs, snails and smaller fish. They typically look for food that is struggling in the thick mud, giving them opportunity to slither towards them and gobble them up! Though they are large, there are plenty of other creatures that would happily dine on them! To avoid predation, Doratabo hide themselves in the mud, using their earthy coloration and wrinkled hide to blend in with the environment. To add to the look, they coat themselves in the wet mud. This has the double bonus of wetting their skin for breathing and building up their camouflage! Once they are covered, they look like they are one with their surroundings, vanishing into the soggy earth whenever predators come around. Even if a beast were to locate them and attack, they will find their claws and teeth slipping off the slick hide, making it difficult to grab hold of the wriggling fish! And if things get really dire, they will lash out with their clawed fingers or try to smother their attacker in the thick mud. The latter tactic has them using their bulk to knock foes over into the muck, then push them further in until they give up or suffocate.

To the people who live in the regions the Doratabo dwells, it isn't a huge threat to them. These fish prefer to be left alone and if threatened, they usually just burrow into the mud and hide, so attacks are rare. They aren't hunted that much either, because their meat is considered quite gross. Folks claim it is very muddy tasting and gritty, practically marinated in the muck they inhabit. Some people like it, but from the sounds of it it is a very acquired taste. So interactions between people and Doratabo are rather infrequent it would seem, until you hear the stories...

Despite their rather harmless nature and love for mud, it seems this fish has made it into quite a few tales. In fact, the people of the past labeled it as a spirit of vengeance. That seems a bit extreme, right? Well, here is where it gets interesting, and where my ramblings at the beginning finally make sense. The Doratabo was considered to be an entity that haunted forgotten rice fields, where vegetation had overgrown and mud had swallowed the crop. These muddy spirits would arise and torment the living with their howls and vile presence, until the owners of the land changed their ways and tended to their wasted fields. What on odd thing! Where on earth did they get that idea? Well I'll tell you!

I made mention before that Doratabo love mud and usually show up wherever it is in excess, right? Well, when rice fields get neglected and are left to the elements, the fields tend to get overgrown and muddy. Once this starts to happen, local Doratabo take notice, and they think these places would make lovely homes! So a few move in, trampling the vegetation and churning up the earth, making the field even more foul and mucky. As they do this, more Doratabo show up to take advantage of this new place, and eventually the whole field becomes a flat of mud and drowned rice plants. So if one neglects their rice fields, then these "men of mud" show up and start making it worse. This image is made possible through the large head and clawed arms of the Doratabo rising out of the mud, giving folks the impression of a humanoid clawing out of the muck. Their large colorful lump on their faces also makes people think of an eye, turning this angry spirit into an angry cyclops! But what of the howling? Well, when Doratabo gather in large numbers, things get heated during the mating season. Males will stand proud on the mud flats, with their colorful nose ornament on full display. They suck up air and then let it all out in long howl, which kind of sounds like a deep long burp. They make these noises to attract females and let other males know who is on top. If any challengers show up, it is some good old mud wrestling until one of them slinks off in defeat! While this is all about mating to them, folks mistake these calls for groans and moans of restless spirits.

While in the past, they once believed these fish to be upset spirits angered by the neglected rice fields, people now recognize them as both a simple species and an important environmental cue. When water levels change, and vegetation starts choking out a water body, the Doratabo will show up for the mud and their presence will speed up the process. The waterways will grow murky and stifled, and local vegetation will get trampled until the whole area is just a muddy field. Not the end of the world, but not good for species that used to live in these pristine waters! So now people know to keep an eye out for Doratabo moving into water bodies they aren't usually in, as it is a sign that something is wrong with the environment. So it turns out that they aren't restless spirits, but they do appear to be a modern day omen!

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

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"Doratabo"

The season calls for some spirits or yokai! Could always stand to have a couple of those! Now lets shove it into a fish!

#fish #mudskipper #doratabo #yokai #monster #creature #art #drawing

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milkteamoon · 3 years ago

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To Scale the Stars

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Fandom: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun Rating: general audience Tags: space au, introspection Relationships: Amane Yugi & Nene Yashiro It gets lonely up in space sometimes. Maybe it's being alone that's making Amane imagine a fish outside his window. Written for Ad Lunam Zine @jshkspacezine

It’s early one morning when he first sees her.

Or late one night. The clock above his bed reads 5:53 am, but time means little when you’re floating through space, stitched between the dawn and twilight, caught up in the milky expanse of the moon’s glow.

Amane knows he should be better about keeping time. He’s been meaning to since college- work on that whole “getting your life together” concept. But life skips stones at the speed of light, and suddenly he’s twenty-one, twenty-seven, thirty-two. Suddenly he’s picking through his hair to see if that one particular strand is blonde or gray, sifting through the infinite amount of work contacts in his phone just to find his brother’s number, staring out over the tiny lights of the world below wondering if anyone misses him up here. He already knows the answer to that last one- Tsukasa asks him every day when he’s coming home (and every day he tells him “soon.” And every day his twin tells him “not soon enough,” and every day the cycle repeats). And though his middle school teacher would sooner drink pen ink than admit it, Tsuchigomori is all too quick to take him up on the offer to go get a drink sometime.

But seriously, Amane needs to get better about the whole time thing. It’s really ruining his sleep schedule (one he barely had to begin with), but he can’t help that his body simply won’t adjust to zero gravity even after six months of living it.

So it’s 5:53 am when he straps on his helmet, attaches his lure, and makes his way out into the inky void of the universe. It’s a typical space walk, like he’s done a thousand times before. Check the meters, skim the paneling, adjust the satellite dish that came loose after the station drifted through a cloud of space debris.

The usual.

He knows how it goes.

He knows how quiet it is out there, lost in only the vibrations of his own breathing and the soft whir of his suit.

He knows where his head starts wandering when left to his own devices.

And it’s wandering he assumes it’s doing when he spots the tiny nebulous cloud on the horizon.

Something….moving.

Swishing.

Swimming.

At least, that’s the best way he can describe it.

It’s enough to make him rub his helmet in place of his eyes, attempting to blink away some sleep-deprived hallucination or trick of the lunar light. Trying to convince himself that it’s just his imagination. That somehow the dream he had the other night about an alien movie he’d seen with his brother had wriggled its way into reality in the most tantalizing concoction of space dust and astral debris.

The reality check fails to dissipate whatever it is, so Amane does the next most rational thing.

Winds his way back around the space station paneling. Slips his way out of the vast expanse of space and into the comfort of his quarters. Takes two aspirin – just for good measure, reminds himself to get new contacts when he returns to terra firma, and does his best to force his mind into a fitful sleep.

He doesn’t drift off until about three hours later, but when he finally does, he dreams he’s at sea.

Floating. Drifting over an infinitely vast stretch of blue. One that he can’t see the bottom of, no matter how much he squints or how hard he imagines.

Which is funny. Kind of. In the ironic non-humor sort of way that elicits more of an exhausted huff than an amused chuckle. Because Amane never really liked the ocean. And he has an inkling that the feeling’s mutual.

It’s a fish, he decides. Or at least, something akin to it. Something with fins and gills that twists its way in between the satellite paneling and the tail of Ursa Major. That inches its way closer with every passing sunset, to the point that it chips itself out of his imagination and into the corporeal world just outside his window.

Amane’s first thought is that he’s losing it.

Naturally. Sure, it’s not the first time he’s been up in space alone, but it’s certainly the longest. Shijima’s team wasn’t set to dock for another three weeks, and the little human interaction he could manage were emails to his brother and the occasional check-in from mission control.

Which was....fine, he supposed. In all honesty, Amane much preferred silence or his own choice of music to the prattle of other passengers. The lilting hum of the spaceship and the occasional beeps from the dashboard to the snores of coworkers who managed a much better sleep schedule than him.

But Amane’s not stupid. He also knows how silence gets to a person. He’s seen it many times.

But he doesn’t linger on the possibility of a dwindling psyche. He’s much too intrigued by this odd little creature that has taken up residence outside his window.

And there’s something sorta funny about the whole situation, because Amane’s never liked the ocean. Never liked the possibility of millennium-old creatures dwelling in hydrothermal vents, of things waiting to drag him down beneath the waves. Never liked the way his classmates’ stares settled into the back of his head like eyes lurking in the deep. Space isn’t like the ocean. Space is infinitely vast and infinitely empty. Space is made up of numbers and theories and rocket-fuel and rocks.

Space is dead. But he’s okay with that. Amane likes the silence. Amane likes to be alone.

Amane’s always wanted to get away.

And he’s been true to that whole “space is empty” belief until now. Sure, alien life might be statistically probable, but it was biologically impossible. Not real. A fabrication. Nothing but pipe dreams.

Amane sends a message to Tsuchigomori before he crawls into bed that night. One he doesn’t really expect a reply to, because it’s nearly 3 a.m. in Japan. That is, unless Tsuchigomori’s been up grading again. Amane knows he has a bad habit of doing so.

And it’s nearly four hours later when he rolls over to check his smartphone and finds it blinking with a response that irks him for just how typical it is of his old school teacher, blunt as ever.

Amane: do you think there’s life out there somewhere?

Tsuchigomori-sensei: sure, why not?

And that weird little creature melts into his life much in the same way of cream into coffee: sweetly, slowly, and then all at once. To the point that his days feel empty the moments it drifts out of his glass canvas of the universe outside, if days can exist in a world filled with infinite sunsets. Well, about fifteen that is. Something that started awe-inspiring, then grated into a nuisance, and finally dipped their way into becoming the best part of his waking hours.

Because every sunset the fish would resurface, and Amane took the time to sit. Watch as the sun glimmered off the switchboard at the head of the cabin and twisted its way between the creature’s translucent scales. Breathed in the much too filtered air and breathed out a stillness he hadn’t felt in years.

It never speaks — not that he thought it would — but he comes to know its language. Its erratic swishes when he comes to peek outside, its bouncing when he tends to the zinnias. Maybe in another life, it’d have been a gardener, or a mermaid, or a novelist. Maybe that’s why it slows to a halt and allows him to bask in every glinting, rainbow scale when he finds the courage to speak.

It’s not the possibility that he’s losing it that eats at him. Of course not. Amane’s always been the weird kid, the hot topic of back-of-the-classroom conversations and breakroom gossip, and he’s used to that. It’s fine. In all honesty, finding out that he’s hallucinating sea creatures would probably be the least of his worries.

But there’s that small sliver of a chance that manages to keep him up at night. That somehow he’s.....not. That maybe, just maybe, the fish really is swimming through the stars outside the space station, and that maybe, just maybe, it’s nothing more than that.

Just a fish.

Impossibly normal.

Not some eldritch monster from one of Tsukasa’s horror manga, nor some anomalous amalgamation of undiscovered extraterrestrial life. Not some figment of a loose air tank that was slowly spinning his brain to mush.

But a fish. Just a fish. One with gills and fins and eyes glazed in nictitating nothingness. Just a fish as simple as that moon rock he had as a child, or the sun being nothing more than a ball of burning gas.

Perfectly........ordinary.

And that frightens him, but he’s not sure why.

Amane presses his face to the glass one evening and finds it cold as ice. And as he does, the fish follows suit, bopping its nose into the window and wiggling its horns (fins? He’s not quite sure) in a sympathetic gesture.

And Amane whispers into the space between.

“Are you real?”

Even though it can’t hear him.

And the fish stares glassy-eyed and keeps its mouth shut.

Always does.

Always silent.

Why should he expect anything different?

It’s a Wednesday that the fish fails to show at the day’s first sunset.

Amane sits alone.

Goes about his day as one would without a fish.

Once, he thinks he catches it skirting around the edges of the paneling. Clipping the last rays of sun before dipping back into the faint luster of starlight. Swimming just as brisk as if it were navigating the inky black waves that he used to fear as a child.

And then it’s gone. Just a blip. Just his imagination.

It’s gone again on Thursday. And Friday.

Amane sits at the window. Waiting. Watching for something that might have been a fish, or might have been just his imagination.

And when the final sunset dies on the horizon, he crawls into bed. Forces himself into a fitful sleep – or at least, he tries to. Because the whirs of the station are much louder now, much heavier and dripping into the static silence like mercury. Much more rhythmic, in a sense, that it almost reminds him of ocean waves.

Crashing. Clawing.

And then still.

Amane dreams of his old middle school.

Dreams that it’s still drenched in that awful teal paint and that the old wing still sits abandoned and unrenovated.

Amane dreams of himself. That he never grew past five-foot, squished down by some old school cap he remembers wearing on orientation day of first year. Amane dreams of a weird sticker on his face, ironically scrawled with the word “seal,” that he’s certain would itch like peeling face paint if his hands were just a bit more solid and his feet could touch the ground.

Amane dreams of a girl, one with droopy eyes and messy hair. One with a voice loud as thunder with ankles to match, and one that calls him some weird nickname he can’t remember when he wakes up. She yells a lot, and he laughs, and then she follows suit. As they should. As if they always should.

Amane dreams of the moon, stretched across the sky in luminescent majesty.

That the celestial body still holds the same wonder as it did in the tiny rock he had as a child. That rabbits still dance on its surface and that an old youthful wish still crawls beneath his skin.

Amane knows that he’s not going to the moon in his dream, but that’s okay. It’s okay when that funny girl drags him along, adjusts his cap, and calls him things he might be embarrassed by as an adult. It’s okay when the umbrella kid comes to eat donuts (plain, no less!) with them, and they laugh about a joke he doesn’t quite get.

It’s okay that he’s not going to the moon.

Amane’s not going anywhere in his dream, but he’s not so lonely this time around.

And it’s okay. Somehow, it’s still okay.

It’s 5:53 am when Amane is awoken by one, two, three knocks at his window. It’s just enough to pull him from the warm haze of his mind into the chill of the cabin, just enough to do a quick sweep of the monitors and valves. And logically he knows no one should be knocking on his window some 250 miles above the earth. That realistically it’s space junk, or rogue rocks, or even more likely his imagination. But it’s still 5:53 am, and it’s much too early to go back to bed.

So Amane does the next most rational thing. Straps on his helmet. Attaches his lure. Makes his way out into the inky void of the universe glazed in the red hue of another sunset.

Just another day in the booming silence of non-gravity.

Until it isn’t.

Until he makes it to the rim of the plexiglass paneling and spots what he’s been searching for for the past 2 weeks.

Something moving.

Swishing.

Swimming.

He doesn’t even need to stretch his tether to full length, because the tiny nebulous cloud comes to meet him.

“You’re still here huh?” he asks, not expecting a response. Because the fish never speaks, never gives him more than a shake of its star-dusted tail and a blink of those black, nebulous eyes.

And maybe a week ago he’d have been saddened by this. Upset. Angered. Lonely, like the ocean itself far below his feet.

But it’s okay.

It’s okay when it doesn’t respond as he whispers about going to the moon like he did as a child. About his dream to get away from those bandages that tied him down, and the infinite space to do so. About the silence, conversation just through pixelated text, a sky that pulls his loneliness from his chest and knits it across the stars for all to see.

And he watches the sunset until it slips beyond the horizon yet again. Until his suit beeps at half oxygen, and until he realizes he’s alone once more in the rungs of the night’s shadow.

Amane then does three things.

Makes his way back inside and peels off his chilled suit. Catch the faintest of glimmers on the horizon, of starlight and scales and gills that breathe space dust, just before it slips off into the twinkle between Alcor and Mizar. Heads to his desk, opens his messages, and sends a quick note to his brother promising to be home soon. Even though it’s only 6 am there, and Tsukasa won’t – shouldn’t be awake for another three hours.

The response is almost immediate.

Not soon enough.

And Amane laughs, just a bit, into the silence of the cabin before typing his response.

You can’t wait a week?

But he already knows the answer.

And for once, it’s something the both of them can agree on.

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk #hanako kun #yugi amane #yashiro nene #round 2 of zine fics #jshk fic #milk writes

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sagasofazeria · 3 years ago

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My Attempts At Making Unique Nonhumans Part 5: Dragonborn!

This is gonna be a long one my friends, so buckle up. (This is part 5 of this series, to see the others just go through the “Nonhuman series” tag on my blog!). Also, some of these changes will kind of retroactively apply to true dragons as well b/c of how this all works.

Taglist: @talesfromaurea @hellishhin

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General:

Dragonborn!! I have changed a LOT of what goes on here. I actually changed the origin of dragonborn itself even. In my mind they’re just another in the same family as dragons, literally just humanoid dragons. The first dragonborn were much closer to their true-dragon cousins (wings and etc), but over time the dragonborn have become more and more different as evolution happens. There are some dragonborn who are more draconic than others, but those are usually small, ancient, and isolated pockets. This all also means that the lines can get blurred when it comes to dragonborn, and often with dragonborn they are either clearly similar to the common attitude of their true dragon counterpart or completely different. It depends on many factors, obviously, especially their upbringing and culture. Another thing I changed was their lifespan, because it’s such bs that the DRAGON species isn’t long lived. That’s like a whole thing with dragons, it should be reflected in dragonborn too. So, in my world, dragonborn tend to live a long time, anywhere between 250 and 600 years or so. They’re roughly on par with dwarves, if not slightly longer-lived. Another thing dragonborn have is the ability to unleash a roar that sounds like a full on dragon (like Shakari did during the battle at Dymea’s hideout). This is often used for battle cries and other similarly dramatic things. (Imagine an army of dragonborn unleashing a war cry. It’s a common tactic to instill fear in an enemy and it works pretty much every time.) Additionally, their scales, in classic dragon fashion, are like iron. Most dragonborn use their scales as natural armor because it’s easy and pretty effective. Another thing is that dragonborn have senses that rival even the elves, because that’s another iconic dragon thing that I felt that they deserve. I’ve also decided that because I personally adore tattoos, it’s very sad that dragonborn and other scaled species couldn’t have them, so I’ve invented a special “scale-paint” that allows permanent marking on dragonborn and other scaled folks. I mean, there’s always magic, of course, but scale-paint is generally easier. Last thing I added here is that very very powerful dragonborn sometimes gain the ability to shift their form, just like ancient true dragons, but it is extremely rare.

Metallic/Chromatic:

Okay, so, metallic and chromatic dragons. Honestly, in my world, the difference between the two is negligible at best. They’re just two different groups of dragons. I don’t like that one is evil and one good because that’s boring. Plus, I mean, why would a dragon, an ancient creature with vast knowledge and power, never be able to learn or change its behavior? Doesn’t make sense. Of course the distinction is even further reduced with dragonborn, to the point where gold and red are just scale colors and you can guess pretty much nothing based on that. Although, I did take away the Paralyzing breath in both the metallic true dragons and metallic dragonborn, instead just sticking to the one option. I also feel like chromatic true dragons should be able to shape-shift as well, so I did that too. Anyways, on to the colors! Gonna put it under a cut because again, this is a long one.

Red:

Red dragonborn! Most dragonborn, the closer they are to their true dragon relatives then the stronger and more numerous the traits they share with them will be. Some common things to see in reds are extra large horns, serrated claws for climbing mountains, and gray/black/brown undertones that would help blending in in the mountains. It’s also very common for their breath to smell like smoke, obviously, and for their bodies to be extremely warm. Red dragon scales are prized for giving off intense heat even years and years after death, and some red dragonborn scales have the same warmth. Red dragonborn also have the strongest scales of most dragonborn besides black, even to the point of reinforced scales in impact heavy areas (allowing for tumbles down mountains without severe harm). This helps more with true dragon hatchlings learning to fly in the mountains, but some red dragonborn inherit it as well.

Blue:

Blue dragonborn tend to vary a lot in how actually “blue” they are, seeing as how blue is quite possibly the worst color for surviving in the desert, the usual habitat of actual blue dragons, when you can’t fly (unlike true blue dragons, who it works for because they can hide in the sky). So they go from brownish muddied blue to straight up sapphire depending on how necessary camouflage was in their genetic history. Besides that, they have a few traits that, again, vary depending on how distanced they are from true dragons. Examples are scales/a horn that easily conduct electricity, a system for conserving water that runs just beneath the scales, special markings around their eyes that help them see in the sun (much like a cheetah), and a smell of ozone. Their breath/their inherent electrical charge can be used for a lot of purposes, from excavation to glass sculpture. (I like to imagine little baby blues making sandcastles and then their parents turning them to glass with their breath and saving them later.) I imagine glass art is probably common with most of the heat based dragon types, actually.

Green:

Green dragonborn, unlike most others, have to be far more careful with their breath weapon. They have venom sacs and a special organ to hold the toxin they can breathe, but it’s hard to tell the difference, especially for young greens. They’re a bit like vipers in that sense, that the babies can barely control their venom. Some common traits green dragons can have is obviously their camouflage in forested areas. Their scales often have a slight shimmering layer so that even in dappled/varied light they can remain stealthy. Green dragonborn also obviously have a super boosted immune system in order withstand poison (and not just their own). They usually are also the only dragons/dragonborn who lack horns besides occasional smaller and more antler-like ones. They also have can have a leaflike texture to their fins and frills that can help collect water (and also serve as a way to regulate a bunch of bodily functions. For example the fins would serve a similar function to sweat, among other things.), and even gills in some cases.

Black:

Black dragonborn have the strongest scales of any dragonborn besides red, as their scales are built to withstand their acidic saliva. Black dragonborn, like black dragons, are unique from other dragonborn/dragons because a lot of their bodies can be worn away or decaying before they die, because their organs just... don’t. Similarly to their saliva, their stomach acid is even more powerful. It is the most potent acid known to mortals, and black dragonborn often carry on this trait. It’s said a black dragon’s stomach acid can melt through almost anything, and because of this, acid reflux can be deadly to young dragonborn who haven't fully developed the acid-resistant coating on their throats and organs yet. Some other common traits are gills (for swampland living), and longer claws that can be used for slashing or stabbing (helps when spearing fish).

White:

White dragonborn tend to be the biggest dragonborn since they need the protection from the cold. They are still cold-blooded, like other dragonborn, but the ideal temperature is much lower for them. I also gave them horns, but not normal horns, something more akin to mammoth tusks. So white dragonborn also tend to have tusks. Additionally, white dragons have these strange quills along their spines that create a chilling sort of howl when rubbed together or a when a breeze blows through it right, and white dragonborn have these too. They’re often used by hatchlings and mothers to find each other. Another common feature is having huge and occasionally webbed feet/hands for running in snow without sinking (or swimming), like built in snowshoes. They are another type of dragonborn/dragon that also commonly has gills.

Gold:

Gold dragonborn, the shiniest of shiny. Also, funnily enough, the dragonborn with the weakest scales (which is really not very weak at all, by the way. Iron can still break on them). Of course, though, this is often used for body art. Gold dragonborn often semi-melt their scales’ outer coating with their fire, and then create all sorts embossings and patterns on themselves before it cools. Best part about this is it can be redone if they get bored (which can happen when you live 500 years). Only thing is this can further weaken the scales or cause damage if done too many times. Some other common traits are their fins, which work very similar to those of the green dragonborn.

Silver:

Silver dragonborn!! I so rarely see metallic dragonborn in my personal games, actually, but I admit silver dragons/dragonborn are my favorite. Silver dragons in my world have a triceratops-like plate/crest on their foreheads that they use to bash into one another in fights (and to break rocks), so silver dragonborn tend to have something similar on top of their heads. Another interesting part of silver dragonborn is that while they speak draconic naturally, their tongues are actually so flexible and their vocal cords so versatile that they are able to mimic most speech they hear, and learn how to pronounce almost any new languages very quickly, a benefit they gain from the habits of silver dragons to visit along mortals. They also have a much higher tolerance for thin air, and their true dragon counterparts can fly the highest into the atmosphere of any known dragon. They also have the same malleable scales as the gold dragonborn, though slightly tougher, and claws that are serrated like reds’ are.

Bronze:

So first things first, I have changed some things even with the true dragons. I have switched the habitats and breath weapons of bronze and brass dragons. Bronze dragons now live in the hills/plains and breathe fire, and Brass dragons live on the coasts and breath superheated air/steam. Besides that they are generally the same, however. Regardless, bronze dragonborn. They too have malleable scales, though they will retain their shape much better and are far stronger (as well as requiring more heat). The bronze dragonborn tend to have similar adaptations to the blue, like the eye markings. Their horns/crest are slightly different though, since they don’t need to conduct electricity. Some common features among bronze are serrated claws for rockier areas, or large feet and tail for balance on sand (which blues would likely have as well).

Brass: Brass dragons/dragonborn are a little weird but I like em. They normally breath superheated air BUT they can scoop down into water and gulp some of that and if they have excess can turn their breath weapon into steam instead through use of a special organ. Also they of course have gills and webbed claws, as well as scales that have a sort of water resistant coating that helps them glide in and out of water. They also have eye markings to help them see despite glare of sun on the water, so the brass dragonborn may inherit many of these. Brass dragonborn also have the malleable metallic scales, just less so than others because the waterproof coating makes it difficult. They also tend to have extra strong gator-like tails.

Copper:

I also changed coppers up! It felt weird to have the acid one in the desert, so I changed it up and gave the coppers lightning. Like blue dragonborn, they can have many desert adaptations alongside their conductivity in their scales, interesting thing about coppers is that they have the fins like greens, but they are used slightly differently. Mainly they’re used to feel changes in the air (when a storm is coming and etc) but they can also release heat, and can press down against their bodies to prevent damage. Coppers (and blues) are also generally good at burrowing in sand, and often you’ll see coppers leaping in and out like scaly sand dolphins.

Iron:

Ah look! It’s me, I did another thing. I may have created a whole new type of metallic dragon. Behold, the Iron Dragon. These guys live primarily underground, and are generally slightly smaller than other dragons, using their wings more like bats use theirs, flitting around cave ceilings (also they are blind and have echolocation also like bats lol). So Iron dragonborn inherit many of these, and since they live underground, often interact less with other dragonborn and surface societies, and usually retain much more of their draconic traits. Their scales are malleable as well, and possibly some of the strongest. Iron dragons/dragonborn also breathe a thick, heavy smoke, that serves both a a noxious cloud and a way to blind their enemies (since they use echolocation anyway).

Gem Dragons:

honestly? Not really sold on em yet, so there’s none in my world. Could change though, I dunno.

•

Ah this was fun. Enjoy dragonborn immensely, now they have some extra fun flavor! Yay! Feel free to leave suggestions for next week, I’m thinking probably either Kobolds or Orcs? Still not sure though.

#not story #long post #worldbuilding #wbw #(late again tho)#Nonhuman series #here be dragons #>:)#love me some dragons #how to train your dragon remains my favorite series of dragon books #possibly my favorite series of all time actually if we’re being honest #and every day i feel the urge to make a d&d setting with those kinds of dragons in it instead #maybe one day

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ink-dreams-ffxiv · 3 years ago

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Prompt 7: Speculate

“Blast! Rivvie, help me” “Yes Miss,” said the thin Duskwight girl in response as she dashed from where she was cleaning smaller fish. Rivvie was a Brume Rat who had been at the volunteer station looking for work when Sahxa had arrived at sunrise. At first she wasn’t sure if Rivvie was a boy or a girl, the man’s cable knit sweater hung down to her knees, and though she had rolled the sleeves up, they still hung down over her hands. Sahxa had taken a cook's needle and string, rolled the sleeves until the cuffs were up to the girl’s armpits, ran a quick loop of string to hold it in place, then rolled what was left up to the girl’s elbows and did the same thing. Her canvas pants at least were lined with karakul fleece, and the boots on her feet were sturdy, if new to her. Sahxa had learned she was twelve winters old, and a very quick study.

Rivvie moved towards the head of the large sleek thick scaled silver fish, “the tail Rivvie, let me worry about the head, put yer gloves on, and hold it tight, she’s still warm, so she gonna wriggle” “Yes Miss.” Sahxa grinned, waiting for Rivvie to put on the thick leather gloves and grab the tail with it’s sawtooth bone spines. “Keep it away from yer face ‘kay?” she said, to which the girl nodded, focusing on the tail. Sahxa slipped her claws under the gill plate, then slid her hingan cleave deep into the feathery red tissue. The fish thrashed weakly, “bloody damn,” hissed the Miqo’te sliding her hand deeper into the cut so she could get a good hold. “She’s heavy, ready?” Sahxa used the moment waiting for Rivvie to nod to toss her cleaver to the tray of rinse water, before lifting and sliding her other arm under the head of the fish. The pair moved together well, the wriggling fish trying harder, but it had been in the bin too long, smothered by the layers of fish on top of it. The fat belly sagged like an over inflated balloon.

“Lean on the tail fer me,” Sahxa ordered, taking up her cleaver again, and sinking it deeply into the flesh just behind the gill she still had her hand shoved into. Once she felt the blade slice through the other side, she set it back in the rinse tray and grabbed the hatchet hanging from a thong at the corner of the butcher table. Moving around, bending the head from the body, she gave solid whack to the intact spine, severing it completely. The body of the fish stopped wriggling.

“Here, remember how I told ya”

“Yes Miss,” Rivvie replied, a smile on her lips and excitement in her eyes. She took the hatchet, laid the blunt side to her hand where it still held the tail, then rolled the hatchet up onto the blade as a measure, her tongue slipped out in concentration, Sahxa could see the focus in her eyes. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK WHACK! It was a messy cut, a boning cleaver would have done a better job, but this wasn’t the time or place to be worrying about it. The girl tossed the tail into the barrel that was already mostly full of mostly fish tails and fins, grinning at Sahxa as she handed the hatchet back to her.

“Okay, go get a chafing dish, a big one lass,” Sahxa indicated the length of the fat baloonish belly. Rivvie just turned and ran along the back of the stalls to where the head off the cook staff was over seeing things. Sahxa in the meantime, pulled her cleaver from the rinse tray, and began stropping the edge on the leather at her waist. When Rivvie returned with the large ornate serving tray, looking sheepish, Sahxa realized that was what the girl thought was the most wealth she probably ever held in her hands, little did she know though.

Sahxa ran her hand along the rubbery thick skinned belly of the fish until she located the opening she was looking for, “No Rivvie, this is where ya gotta be really careful, push yer finger in here,” the girl watched, then blinked as Sahxa’s finger vanished into the belly of the fish, then she made a disgusted face. “Isn’t that where the poo comes out?”

“Not on this one Rivvie, this one is different,” Sahxa replied with a grin, not sure if a talk about the birds and bees would be considered appropriate at this time. Resting the blade where she pressed out with a claw tip, Sahxa pushed the blade along the thick rubbery flesh, lightly scoring it, but not cutting all the way through, until she passed the end of the bulge, then she drew the blade back along the same line, slicing a little deeper. “This is gonna be heavy lass,” Sahxa added as the girl moved to place the tray against the edge of the work table. “Not like the other ones we did.” Rivvie nodded, and shifted the tray until her arms were under it, holding it tightly.

Sahxa slowly moved the rectangular blade back down the line she had scored, pressing out with the finger inside the fish at the same time, the skin and flesh under split in a slow controlled manner until she was about three fourths along the length of the belly, then a grayish white bladder spilled from the cut, sliding easily into the waiting tray. Rather than stop, Sahxa kept cutting until she passed the end of the belly, where she cut deep until the blade sliced through the cut end where the head had been attached. Rivvie pulled the tray away from the edge of the work table just before the intestines and viscera spilled from the cavity. Sahxa swiped through any membrane as the girl took the tray to her work table. The offal was pushed into the trough below the edge of the work table with the rest of the guts of the fish Sahxa had cleaned for the soup kitchen. Grabbing the head, as she put her knife back in the rinse tray, she carried it to Rivvie, who was rinsing her hands off and looking at Sahxa.

“Remember what we did with the small ones?”

“Yes Miss, cover the bag,”

“Egg Sac,”

“Uh? Wha?”

“It’s an egg sac Rivvie, that’s what it is, so practice calling it that.”

“Okay Miss, I uh, cover the egg sack with salt, then rub it down until it doesn’t feel slimy anymore. Then I put the egg sack in the rinse basin.”

Sahxa grinned, maybe later, she would ask the girl if she knew her letters, she could hear the ‘K’ on the end but it was okay, the girl was learning. “Right, while it’s in the rinse basin, take the dirty salty dish and dump it in the tail’s bucket, then take it to the pot cleaner. On yer way back, ask the potwatch for another chaffing dish, but ask em to weigh it and mark the weight on the tray, okay?”

Rivvie blinked at her in confusion, “We didn’t do that with the others”.

“Nope, this is a special case, we need to know how much the pan weighs, so we can figure out how much the eggs weigh.” Thankfully, Rivvie just nodded, and went to do as she was told. Sahxa took careful looks around. Most had written her off as was usual. Especially when she took out her hingan vegetable cleaver. They figured she was some kind of hack, even more so when she dug out her hatchet. But this job was about speed, not precision. Most of the meat was either being ground up for fish balls, or boiled in the huge stewpots dotting the stalls. Nothing was being cut up to be presented at the tables of the Lords and Ladies of Ishgard. This was food meant to fill the bellies of the workers rebuilding the damage.

The lantern lights were glowing brightly. Rivvie hung close to Sahxa as they made their way through the streets of Ishgard. The girl kept blushing and trying to hide in the thrift store coat Sahxa had gotten from one of the stalls inside the Firmament. She had also gotten the girl a couple more pairs of pants, some small cloths, under shirts, and a couple more of the cable knit sweaters.

“Relax Rivvie, the guards aren’t going to bother you. They already know I am one of the foreigner’s working the restoration, they just assume you’re either my apprentice or my ward, probably think you’re from Gridania and not the Brume.”

The girl blinked at her, “Why Gr..Grey-dneeah”

“They think all Miqo’te like me come from Gridania, and a Duskwight with me probably came from Gridania as well, since there are some there.”

“Oh, but, Miss?”

“Yes Rivvie?”

“Miss Sahxa? Why are we going to the Crozier?”

“Speculating lass, you will understand when we get there.”

The shop was quaint, and it’s wares were anything but cheap. The tall sharply dressed Elezen behind the counter scowled when the pair came through the door, until Sahxa took her hat off, her sunkissed ginger hair and dark tan a very distinguished marking in Ishgard.

“Ah, M’Lady Sahxa, it is a pleasure to see you!” His joy and enthusiasm was not faked, and Sahxa was pretty sure she knew why. He took in Rivvie’s appearance next to her with a curious look. “My apprentice Rivvie, Rivvie, this is Ser Marcelle DeCroix, this is his shop.” Sahxa grinned when Rivvie did her best to curtsy without a dress, and Marcelle raised an eyebrow as well. “Ahem, yes, welcome Miss Rivvie. Now I believe you wished to discuss payment?”

“Twenty five ponze of the finest caviar harvested fresh Marcelle, I know for a fact you had it within your shop no more than one bell from when I pulled it from the belly of the still living sturgeon.”

Marcelle smiled a merchant's smile, “yes, as you can see M’Lady Sahxa, word spread fast,” he nodded to a mostly empty cart to Sahxa’s left. The sign was marked 3000gil. Rivvie gasped and gapped when she looked at the small jars. “Let’s not quibble shall we?” Marcelle began. Sahxa grinned, and took one of the jars from the cart. “Come Rivvie, it’s time you got a chance to taste your hard work.”

#FFXIV Write 2021 #Sahxa Relanah #Fishercatte #Prompt 7 Speculate

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fortune-fool02 · 4 years ago

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dio rejects humanity and becomes fish (part 2)

"How's your father doing?" Speedwagon asked, as Jonathan stepped down from the carriage as it parked in front of the Joestar mansion.

"He's doing well," Jonathan reassured, "though he'll be in the hospital for several more weeks to come. But at least he's awake, even if he isn't talking much."

"Good," sighed Speedwagon, exasperatedly. "At least he wouldn't find out obout our little...inmate for the meantime."

Jonathan shook his head. "Alright, Robert. What's the rascal up to now?"

"He kept trying to escape from the fountain, again and again. He's kind of in denial that he can no longer survive on land. He also tried to bite the postman, though thankfully he wasn't hurt. I mean the postman."

Jonathan sighed. "I'm not surprised one bit."

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

That evening, Jonathan invited Speedwagon over to a dinner over at the mansion, in thanks to all his help during such a strange and difficult time.

"For me?" Speedwagon stammered, flustered at the gesture.

"You're a good man," Jonathan replied with a smile. "I could never repay you enough."

Their friendly feast, however, was eyed by envious eyes from the darkness of outside.

In the fountain, Dio watched hatefully through the window, at Jonathan and his newfound friend enjoying a meal together. How dare that street rat sit in the cozy seat he once occupied, while he was out here, in the cold water, trapped in a fountain for heaven knows how long! He splashed his tail in frustration, growling bitterly to himself over his plight.

His glare turned to sinister glee, however, when he spied a shiny object in the dim light, just within reach on the marble floors around the fountain. It was the bucket that Jonathan used to bring him his food-- and it was now his ticket to make his escape.

Seizing the bucket in his clawed, webbed hands, he filled it with the chilly water from his fountain and dropped it to the floor with a thud. Then, with a thrust of his tail, he launched himself out onto the floor with a wet flop.

Dio grinned arrogantly to himself as he began to crawl away from the fountain, pushing the bucket along. He couldn't breathe without water, so he figured he'd just bring the water with him. They could never keep him contained, he thought. Not Jojo or some Ogre Street gangster to keep him captive like a circus animal...

He carried on crawling, toward the gate of the mansion's premises, pulling his scaly body along while pushing the bucket forwards. Every minute or so he would feel the dryness building up in his gills, and he would dunk his head into the bucket to breathe-- a ridiculous-looking act that wounded Dio's pride more than the rough gravel did to his scales.

From inside the mansion, Jonathan and Speedwagon enjoyed their dinner with pleasant conversation, helping themselves to a pot roast courtesy of Jonathan's cooking. However, as Speedwagon's eye glanced outward, he noticed a strange movement slowly but surely advancing toward the gate.

"Dear lord, Jojo! The slippery bastard's getting away!" he cried.

"Don't worry," Jonathan replied with a laugh. "I've locked all the gates and exits, he isn't getting anywhere."

And so did Dio find to his dismay, as he finally reached the front gate after much of a struggle. He pounded at the gate with his fists and his tail, but it was no use. For a moment he considered trying to get out the back exit: but it was another long arduous crawl to get there, and by now Dio was tired and exhausted, and most of the water in his bucket had spilled out.

Defeated, he had no choice but to return to the fountain before he succumbed to dehydration. He began to haul himself back to the fountain, trying to conserve the little water that remained in his bucket, until at last he reached his aquatic sanctuary-- and prison-- and clambered into it with a splash.

This wasn't what he had in mind when he first found the Coral Mask, he thought bitterly. He wanted revenge, to all those who he believed wronged him. He wanted to be something more powerful than a mere human-- not a helpless fish out of water, trapped in a bowl which he cannot escape.

And so for the rest of the night Dio lay in the fountain, staring dolefully at Speedwagon and Jonathan happily dining inside, until at long last his rage and envy gave way to genuine exhaustion and he soon fell fast asleep.

---------

"Dio, breakfast time!" Jonathan called out, as the gentle yellow light of early morning began to shine over the mansion's premises.

"My goodness!" Speedwagon exclaimed as he woke from his seat in a start. "It's morning already? Dear me, I suppose you don't mind, Jojo..."

"It's no big problem," Jonathan smiled. " I'm just on my way to bring Dio his breakfast. Thought I'd try giving him some salmon for a change," he said, gesturing at the bucket.

"Dio? Dio, breakfast time!" he called out again as he stepped outside. There was no reply.

"Jojo...you don't think he's gotten away, has he?" Speedwagon said in a worried voice as he rushed outdoors.

Jonathan too felt a hint of panic, but felt a sigh of relief when he glimpsed a golden gleam in the fountain. "It's alright, Robert! He's still here! And...still asleep, I guess."

Both of them cautiously approached the fountain where Dio lay curled up in the shallows, fast asleep. With his eyes closed and his arms folded beneath him, Jonathan couldn't help but be reminded of a slumbering lion, fierce and deadly in wakefulness, but strangely peaceful in rest.

His silent admiration was interrupted by a panicked gasp from Speedwagon. "Sweet mother of mercy!" he exclaimed. "Is...is that what I think it is?"

Jonathan turned to look as Speedwagon pointed, and his jaw dropped in amazement.

There, in the clear, running water, was a small, ovoid orb that floated in the shallow fountain. It was roughly the size of a small melon, and was a brilliant, iridescent orange-golden color-- the exact same color of Dio's scales.

Rolling up his sleeves, Jonathan gently reached into the fountain and picked up the small object. It was hard to the touch but smooth and slippery, and as he gazed at it in disbelief he thought he could see a small, curled-up shadow visible within through the transparent shell.

"It's...it's an egg," Jonathan mumbled in total bewilderment.

"Dio...laid an egg?" Speedwagon asked in a tone of horrified fascination. He gingerly pointed out at the object in Jonathan's hands. "You might...not want to touch...that thing," he said uncomfortably.

Dio soon began to stir, as the scent of the salmon in the bucket wafted up to him. But as he awoke, squinting in the brilliant light, the first thing he saw was Jonathan standing next to the fountain, clutching a small object as he stared intently at the groggy merman.

"Dio!" said Jonathan demandingly. "Did you lay this egg?!"

"Wh-what the hell?" Dio screeched in alarm, suddenly snapping wide awake. "What is that thing?"

"It's an egg," Jonathan explained. "We found it in your fountain just this morning."

"I-I can't lay an egg! I'm a man! Or...or merman! Males can't lay eggs, Jojo!" Dio cried, visibly as confused and panicking. "Someone must have put it in there while I was asleep!"

"It's the same color as your scales, Dio." Jonathan replied to him, as he handed him the salmon with one hand while clutching the egg in the other. "Fascinating...it appears the Coral Mask has altered your biology into that of a fish, since certain fish can reproduce asexually without the need of a mate," he added.

"The damn thing isn't mine!" snarled Dio, as he snatched the salmon throm the bucket and began to tearing into it with his teeth.

Before Jonathan could reply, he felt a strange motion that seemed to be coming from inside the egg. "It's moving..." he said in stupefied wonder.

And before their very eyes the egg began to crack, sharp breaks forming on its surface as it rocked and twitched in Jonathan's arms. And with one final powerful shake the hard shell broke apart, and suddenly, in Jonathan's grasp, was something he never thought he'd see.

It was a baby mermaid, quite smaller than a human baby, but with a face resembling an exact imitation of one. From the neck down, however, it was covered with golden scales, just like Dio, but flecked with pink and adorned with sunny yellow fins. And just like its parent, the infant bore bright blond hair, which, to Jonathan's amusement, bore three circular curls that stuck out prominently from the child's forehead.

At once the baby coughed and began to cry. "Quick, get me some water!" Jonathan yelled to Speedwagon, who grabbed the now-empty bucket, filled it with water from the fountain, and gently lowered the gasping, squirming baby into it to take his first breaths of water.

"Congratulations, Dio!" Jonathan exclaimed joyfully. "You're a father!"

"Or more precisely...a mother," corrected Speedwagon.

A most bizarre expression, a mix of confusion and horror crept across Dio's face. "M-mother?" he stammered...

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

***

I absolutely loved this! Thank you so much for sending me this! It's absolutely amazing!

#merman au #merman dio #mudad #submission

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peachfluffsoftstuff · 5 years ago

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Beyond The Reef [1]

Content: Soft Vore, G/T Vore, Unwilling Prey, Shark Mer Pred, Eventual Safe Vore Reveal

Word Count: 2230

Fandom: N/A; Original Content

A/N: An older piece, but I’m still fond of it!! I have a few more chapters already written, too. I promise it gets fluffier.

Aless pressed himself flat against the rockbed, listening as the reef went quiet around him at the sight of two predators passing through. Neither of them seemed to notice, probably used to the attention, and were talking in low voices that still clearly travelled to all the smaller folk in the area, him included.

He watched in half-stunned awe as the giant mers passed his hiding spot, neither noticing his tiny body camouflaged against the plant life. What a chance encounter… He was suddenly glad he had decided to venture out alone again today, watching them glide along with an unassuming steadiness to their pace.

They continued their discussion as they moved, and despite, or maybe because of the danger, Aless darted after them, eavesdropping as he swam through concealing nooks and crannies.

The one currently talking was seemingly younger, with wild dark hair flowing around a face with bright eyes. He had olive skin with dark grey scales scattered in patches around his fins. His tail was a lighter blue-gray, tipped with black, marking him as a reef shark breed of mer. Unlike stories Aless had heard, there was no constant anger in his eyes, but rather, crinkles around the corners that looked an awful lot like smile lines.

At the moment however, he wore an expression of tentative concern as he frowned at his companion.

“...I don't know Dev, doesn't it seem kind of harsh? Maybe there's some other way to find one, no need to-”

“Skim,” the other mer cut him off, and Aless wondered at that too. The older and, apparently, leader of the two had similar dark hair, though much tamer, and his tail was the deep mottled grey of a tiger shark. “I understand your concern, but this is the way it's been done for ages. There’s no need to make waves, it’ll work out alright. It always does. You’ll understand when it happens. Trust me.” He offered the smaller a slight smile.

The other mer-- Skim, allegedly-- seemed to droop slightly as he sighed, returning a weak smile and seemingly finally resigned to whatever it was they were talking about. Aless tilted his head, wondering for only a moment or two, before becoming distracted by the familiar surroundings. This… was the route to Hali Reef that the two were taking.

Aless knew because he had just come from that very direction, hoping to avoid more harassment from the other teens his age. Nevi, at least, didn't try to draw attention to him, but it could only do so much when one’s been the whole village’s scapegoat for so long.

What would two giant mers be doing in such a small mountain reef? Aless moved faster, an uneasy pit in his stomach, old folk tales suddenly springing to mind. These were still predators, after all.

Soon, they came upon the opening into the underwater village, which looked uncomfortably recently abandoned. Aless could tell they hadn’t had much time to lock down and hide, and felt a little guilty for not immediately swimming ahead to warn them.

Though, if the giant mers hadn’t come through and he’d raised a false alarm... Well, he caught enough flack from the townsfolk already without ‘attention seeker’ being added to the list.

There was a tense pause, before Dev cleared his throat pointedly, much to Skim’s dismay.

“You mean I really have to--?” Dev gave him a quelling look, and he sighed uncomfortably again but turned to the nearest patch of seagrass and reached out with one hand, slowly picking through it. Aless’s sense of horror mounted as he spotted a flash of silver amidst the waving plants. The only one in the village with those distinct glinting silver scales… was Nevi.

Skim seemed to have spotted it as well, going by the way he was indecisively hovering his hand closer. Aless watched, his whole body tense with anxiety. In an instant, he saw as Nevi’s self-restraint broke, and she darted out of the plants and away like quicksilver.

Unfortunately, Skim was even faster, slamming his hands together over her so quickly it seemed like it had been only his reflexes that caught her. He seemed to feel the same way as he looked between the prison his cupped hands had made and the other giant mer, who was looking expectantly at him.

Hesitantly, he closed his hands together and used the position as leverage to hold the girl by pinching two fingers securely around Nevi’s muscled waist. She looked small compared to him, barely the size of his hand.

“Why isn’t anyone helping her,” Aless murmured to himself, though deep down he already knew. She was the strongest and second-fastest one in the entire village. If she couldn’t get free, nobody could save her.

Not without risking life and limb, with no chance of success. Aless reached for the carved dagger tied at his hip.

Nevi was thrashing in Skim’s hold, gills and frills flaring, lashing out with enough force to break something vital in a mer her size, but only making Skim take on an expression like a kicked guppy. He started to lift her closer to his face, and a dismayed note of alarm wailed in Aless’s mind. He was moving before he could even think twice, shooting across the open water as quickly as his fins would propel him.

He used his momentum to drive his small dagger into Skim's finger, hard enough to stick. Skim yelped at the unexpected pain and pulled his injured hand back to his chest, releasing Nevi. In the same motion, like clockwork, Aless was dragged along, the drag causing him to collide with the back of the hand he’d attacked.

Before he could reorient himself, Skim’s other hand weighed down on him, leaving him sandwiched between the two, just as trapped as Nevi had been.

“Aless!”

Unable to do anything about his position, he floundered for a moment, before managing to meet Nevi’s eyes. She had twisted to look at his predicament, caught in indecision, but there were two predators there and only one’s hands were occupied with him.

“Go!” He shouted, harsh enough a command that she jerked and darted away, still stuck in the fight or flight mindset. It was a good thing he was probably about to die because otherwise she would have kicked his ass later for yelling at her like that.

He got only a moment to watch her vanish back into the reef in a flash of silver before the warm skin around him moved, one hand moving down to grasp his tail between finger and thumb. As soon as his bottom half was securely snagged, he was pulled back to look at his captor. His orientation shifted as the hold tugged him from the bottom end, leaving him hanging upside down.

Despite the instinctual panic edging his mind, he didn't try to escape, common sense dismissing it as a fruitless effort. If nobody was brave enough to try and free Nevi, everyone’s darling, from Skim’s grip, then there was no way Aless, the local bastard, would be getting any semblance of help at all. Seeing as Nevi’s considerable strength hadn’t done anything for her, he wouldn't be able to make a getaway on his own, either.

Still, he refused to cower or beg, glaring at Skim as he was dangled upside down in front of him. The mer was nursing his injured thumb, pulling the tooth dagger out of his skin with his teeth and spitting it into the open water. Aless watched somewhat mournfully as it sank down to the ocean floor below. That had taken him ages to find and fix up into a proper weapon.

“At least it’s not deep...”

Looking back up, Aless automatically flailed as he was dragged by the tail to in front of the giant’s face, and he stared at the big features, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the tip of that lightly freckled nose. It was close enough that Skim went cross eyed trying to keep looking at him, defeating the whole purpose of closer scrutiny. Aless stubbornly crossed his arms to keep from pinwheeling them, ignoring the way his fluttering gills and fins gave away his fear despite his best efforts.

He expected Skim to pull back and send a desperate look to Dev yet again, but instead his expression was strangely dazed, his glowing irises near eclipsed by expanding pupils, gaze fixed on Aless with a strange intensity that sent a chill down his spine. He absently chewed on his bottom lip with sharp-looking teeth, and then slowly lifted Aless up above his head, looking up to keep him in view.

Aless was only kept in the dark about his intentions for a second or two, before Skim made them very clear by opening his mouth, displaying rows of triangular white teeth framing a fleshy gullet.

“Ah,” Aless said, softly.

At least Nevi wasn't in his place. At least they’d all know what happened to him. At least nobody would miss him too much. His chest jolted up in hiccups as his breathing started to speed up unsteadily.

As if in spite of its inevitable end, his heartbeat was pounding a frighteningly quick tempo as he was lowered into the gaping maw, the prehensile tongue stretching out to receive him. He numbly watched as his head passed under the stacked rows of teeth, aligned neatly to tear prey apart. The rough muscle at his back was the only thing cushioning him from being skewered on the lower teeth.

Abruptly, his surroundings went dark, Skim’s lips sealed around his torso cutting out all the outside light. His hands rose to push against the hard palate above him automatically, as if he could somehow keep the mouth from closing further. He felt the pressure from the fingers holding his tail vanish, apparently satisfied with his current level of immobility. He didn't try to move, too aware of the fangs barely scraping his stomach like a threat.

The seconds stretched, and Aless was certain that any moment, the jaws would snap shut on his spine, interlocking and slicing him clean in half. The blood would be a mess. Distantly, he hoped that none of the children in the reef were watching.

His grim predictions were interrupted by a pulling sensation on his skin, and he yelped as more of him was suddenly suctioned into the dark, enclosed space. More than ever, Aless could feel the difference between the warm, cloying atmosphere in the giant mouth and the cool ocean water brushing past his tail fin, which was still peeking out between Skim’s lips, twitching weakly.

The top of his head gently bumped into something solid, and when he reached out with one hand to investigate, the smooth flesh of the throat rippled under his touch. He jerked away, seized by a primal urge to get out get out get out get out-- but at his squirming, the tongue beneath him rose up and pinned him against the ridged roof of the mouth, knocking the wind out of him.

He was stunned for a moment, splayed out with his arms flung above his head. Then, there was another pull, an uncanny tug on his whole body accompanied by a thick sound, and his arms were suddenly surrounded on all sides by the same smooth, slippery muscle. He drew in breath to yell, terrified, and with the sound of another heavy swallow, found his entire head and chest stuck in the same constricting tube. Even as he tried to wriggle free, he could feel the rough tongue on the scales of his tail, tasting him, and he shuddered, squirming as the esophagus contracted and pulled in more of him.

He only had a moment to think ‘I can't breathe’ before the final thick swallow resounded in his ears, peristalsis locking him in place and tugging him downwards. His smooth fish half went down easier, one gulp enough to tug the whole thing down, fins and all. Locked completely in the slick tube with barely enough room to twitch, Aless focused on trying to bring in oxygen from the meager water trapped with him. Everything pulsed around him, loud and overwhelming.

Just as the edges of his vision began to darken, his hands were released from the complete peristalsis, and the rest of him soon followed, sliding into a slick pouch full of warm seawater, contracting and relaxing rhythmically at his arrival. It was larger than where he’d been before, but filled quickly, his tail coiling and twisting in the meager space.

After gasping in enough air to function, Aless looked around at the pitch dark space with growing despair, and began to run his hands along the stomach walls, desperately searching for some kind of exit. He found only smooth flesh under his fingers, and a rumbling purr started up above him, making him yank his hands away angrily. That giant bastard was enjoying this.

As quickly as his temper had flared up, it died away, and he slumped against the soft folds of flesh around him. Of course Skim was enjoying this. In every way, he’d acted as the predator that shark mers were rumored to be.

Aless was nothing more than a meal now, tucked out of sight and out of mind.

#Soft Vore #Safe Vore #Mermaid Vore #Extreme Cuddling #G/T Vore #Unwilling #Mermaid #Vore Writing #Vore Story #Original Characters #Beyond The Reef #Peach Writes #OC: Skim #OC: Aless #OC: Nevi #What sharp teeth queue have!

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prettyboyporter · 4 years ago

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Missing Piece

this is both a birthday fic for and a harringrove for BLM commission for @wrecked-fuse ! Based on your stunning mer!harringrove art . I hope you enjoy! And thank you so much for your donation!!!!!

~*~ Steve reclined on the rock, leaning back to bask in the sun’s warm rays. His tail glinted blue-green in the light, scales that had landed him plenty of attention in his small community located out in the kelp. The merfolk in his area found him attractive, and in previous years, he’d taken a fair share of them to his bed.

His previous romps in the kelp were hardly on his mind in this moment, though. His thoughts focused on the bigger picture of his life over the last few years. He’d been nicknamed King Steve and had parties in his parents’ home in a highly-coveted, stylish section of a sunken voyage ship. He’d had a pretty girlfriend and lots of friends.

Steve leaned back on his elbows and slapped his fin against the water as he saw Billy swimming off in the distance. There was a flash of a seawater blond tail before Billy emerged on the surface nearby.

“Pretty boy,” he said, just like he had when he first met Steve -- it used to be a jeer, and now it was just an endearment. “What’s got your tail in a twist?”

Steve sighed and patted the rock next to him.

Billy pushed up gracefully onto the rock, biceps flexing. He was just as sexy as the day he first swam into the small Hawkins Kelp Community -- muscular, honey blond curls, piercing blue eyes, a tail that made nearly every merperson swoon, only now he donned scars all over his abdomen from a fight with a monster. The scars only added to his appeal.

“Well?” Billy asked. “Gonna spill? You only come here when you’re feeling all goddamn mopey.”

“Remember that night we had a fight at the Byers’ place?”

Billy narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “Fuck off. God you’re the worst.”

Billy rolled his eyes and brushed his tail fin against Steve’s. Steve let his fin curl briefly around Billy’s before pulling it back. “Yes. I remember.”

“I was just thinking about how far we’ve come, y’know? Like you used to be breathing down my neck at every turn -- fucking with me no matter which way I went. I went to play aquaball, there you were swimming laps around me. I went to help Dustin and the kids, there you were. I went to go to a party to try to cut loose, and there you were, up in my face. I mean, even my friends kept their distance from me after you showed up.”

Billy shrugged. “Tommy is kind of a dick, though.”

Steve thought about it. “Yeah.”

“His entire crew? Buncha douchebags.”

“Okay, yeah, I know. They wanted to use me for my place. But that’s just like an example of the kind of shift I’m talking about. You know that weird feeling you get right before a storm?”

Billy nodded.

“Kind of like that. Kind of like, you came along like a tropical storm or something, all anger and crashing waves, but when everything settled, the water was so peaceful and clear. I had a sort-of little brother in Dustin, and a friendship with Robin. The negative assholes in my life had fucked off. And here you are.”

“That’s what got you up on your Sad Times at Ridgemont High rock? Thinking about how I came along and fucked up your life?”

Steve inhaled and tried again. “You didn’t fuck up my life, Billy. I mean. You did. But in a good way. Yeah we fought, but after all of that everything felt much clearer, especially after you apologized. Like I knew who my real friends were. And I could picture how I wanted things to be.”

“And how do you want things to be, King Steve?” Billy flicked his tail against Steve’s again, and if Steve let out a little hmm at the sensation, well. He just couldn’t help those kinds of noises.

Steve huffed a laugh. “Like I don’t need to be King Steve. I don’t have to live up to my dad’s expectations. I have what I need, and I’m happy.”

The pressure of Billy’s fin grew more firm, and this time the tips of them curled around Steve’s fin. “Glad you’re happy, pretty boy.”

Steve slid his fin back and forth over Billy’s, and Billy shifted a bit on the rock, tail flexing. “Well. I’m mostly happy. This is my Sad Times rock, like you said.”

“Okay. Spill, Harrington. What’s the missing piece?”

Steve wrapped up Billy’s tail fin in his own. “You were my rival. Then you were -- well, not a friend, but not a rival, either. And shit changed over time and you did become my friend. It’s you, Billy. You’re my missing piece.”

Steve felt his heartbeat thundering against his chest, and the gills fluttered on his neck out of anticipation. He reached his hand over and touched his pinky finger to Billy’s.

Billy slid his fingers on top of Steve’s. “Bout time. Jesus christ.” He smiled and leaned over to take Steve’s lips in a kiss, his tail sliding against Steve’s.

Steve returned the kiss and slid his hand up into Billy’s hair, touching the curls there gently as his mind raced about how his parents would be pissed, how they might kick him out and --

And then Billy’s tongue slipped over the crease of Steve’s lips, and when Billy’s tongue touched Steve’s, Steve thought, fuck it.

If his parents were going to be pissed, if he was forced to leave his cushy room in the sunken ship, then fuck it. He’d find a small home along the coral with Billy. Because there was no way after he felt what it was like to kiss Billy, to have Billy’s tail pressed against his own, that he’d ever be able to go a day without it again.

That night they swam quietly into Steve’s room and Billy fell asleep with Steve spooned up behind him, Steve’s tail wrapped protectively over his own with the moonlight shimmering on the surface above them.

#harringrove #my fic #my writing #harringrove for BLM #soft times at ridgemont high #mer!harringrove #mer!billy #mer!steve #soft fic for hard times #i'm late for mermay

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quickspinner · 5 years ago

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The Sky and the Sea

So have y’all a little fantasy AU Dragon!Luka loves Mermaid!Marinette. This is absolutely not what I intended to be working on but you know, sometimes you just gotta run with the inspiration when it comes. (is it cheating to post the fic on the same day as the SSS? probably, but I finished it and I have no self-control, so here you go!)

The storm was over.

That was Luka’s first thought as he drifted towards wakefulness. He no longer felt the electric charge of lightning in the air, and when he opened his eyes, his sleeping chamber was a dim gray instead of pitch black. He listened, but heard nothing beyond the usual sea birds and average mountain winds.

Luka lifted his head and yawned, forked tongue lolling out between his razor fangs. He rolled and raised himself on all fours, gold clinking lightly as pieces stuck to his scales for a moment and then fell back to the pile. He shook himself and then stretched, adding a new set of gouges to those already scoring the floor as he flexed his talons.

He should probably eat something. Luka sat back on his haunches and pawed through the blue and black hair of his crest, then shook it out with a sigh. His home was a great mountain rising out of the sea, its volcanic heart long dormant. Isolated, but Luka preferred that, more than willing to make the flight to the mainland when he needed food or company if it meant being left alone when he wished to be. His lair was easily defended but rarely in need of it, and that was all that mattered to him.

But it did mean that if he was going to eat something other than fish today, he’d better get moving now. He strolled to the entrance of his cave and launched himself into the air. He spouted flame, just to clear his lungs, and circled his mountain home a few times to limber up before angling for the mainland.

Soaring low over the water, more out of habit than hope, he saw a flash of gold under the surface. His heartbeat quickened and a burst of flame left him. Below him the gold streak grew larger and one very familiar red-and-gold fin broke the surface before disappearing back down beyond his sight.

Before he could lament her departure, gold rushed up from the deep and this time she burst out of the water in a great leap. She rolled midair and reached one pale arm towards him in a wave, and then she was falling, out of his element and back into her own, slipping back into the sea and sinking below his view again with a flip of her shining tail.

Luka folded his wings and skimmed as low as he could, stretching one foreclaw down to run along the water. Marinette rose again to just below the surface and flipped onto her back to face him. Even through the distortion of the speeding water, he was sure he could see her smiling.

The flip slowed her and she quickly slipped behind him and out of sight. It didn’t matter. Luka banked and turned, one wingtip skimming the sea, and picked up his altitude, knowing that Marinette would already be making the same turn under the water. Dinner could wait, if Marinette had come to see him. He could hunt later.

Luka bypassed his eyrie on the cliffside and angled down towards a large flat rock that jutted out into the sea below. Though he was a creature of the air, he had been born near the ocean, and he had loved the smell of the sea and the lap of the waves even before he knew what they would bring him. He’d been sunning on this very rock the first time she had come to him, insatiably curious and too brave for her own good.

He landed easily, fanning his wings to brake before sinking slowly onto the stone. His talons clicked lightly as he paced to the edge, lifting his head on his long neck to look over the water for her. Luka was satisfied when he saw a flash of sun on red-gold scales as she made another leap out of the water—probably to look and see if he had beaten her there.

He rumbled in his chest in amusement at her competitive streak, and lay down to wait, crossing his front legs and half-rolling on his side to stretch his hind legs out behind him.

Marinette announced her arrival by backflipping and sending a tail full of seawater into his face. He snorted, shaking it off his crest and neck spines, as she disappeared beneath the waves, clearly not deigning to appear until he had taken on a form that could actually speak to her.

Luka rumbled another laugh and gathered his energies to shift. Moments later he stood and walked to the edge of the water on soft, silent human feet, and resumed his lounging pose, leaning on one elbow. In only a moment Marinette glided up through the water, catching onto the end of his rock where it dipped into the sea and pulling her torso up onto it. Her gill slits flattened into her neck, becoming almost invisible as the webs between her fingers softened and receded. Her fins folded down, the poison spines laying flat along her tail, the fins themselves draping in artful folds around her, far more elegant to his eye than any human lady’s finest gown. Her tail still swished behind her in the water; Marinette preferred not to change fully unless absolutely necessary (she claimed feet were itchy). Her dark hair pooled around her shoulders as her blue eyes lost their reflective shine, becoming more human as she gazed up with him with barely repressed excitement that made his heart beat faster.

There was no treasure in his hoard he valued more or found more beautiful than Marinette. And yet, she was the only treasure he couldn’t keep.

But this was enough, and perhaps his moments with her were all the more precious for being fleeting.

“Hi,” he smiled at her.

“I missed you!” she exclaimed. “You weren’t here last time I came.”

“You almost missed me again,” Luka said, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. “I was on my way out when I saw you.”

“Lucky timing for me then,” she giggled, catching his hand in her own. “I brought you something.”

Pure draconic greed made him shiver at the words, though he felt a little sad. He’d thought he’d made it clear they had gone far beyond such things. He butted his head against hers lightly. “You know you don’t have to bring me things,” Luka said. “I don’t need tribute from you.” He shifted and rubbed his human nose against hers gently. It was so inconvenient, being bound to these in-between forms that came naturally to neither of them. But it was the only way they could be together comfortably, so they accepted it.

Marinette pouted, but leaned her forehead into his. “It’s not tribute, it’s a gift. I like bringing you gifts.”

Luka pulled back slightly so that he could see her eyes clearly again. Marinette smiled, sweet rather than playful this time. “Yes, I know what that means,” she said softly. “And you don’t have to accept my gifts if it bothers you. But I know what I feel. I know what you are to me.”

Luka was struck speechless for a long moment. Marinette searched his face, and then reached into the pouch she wore slung around her body, bringing out a necklace made of shining sea treasures. The centerpiece was a golden doubloon, plundered from some sunken human ship no doubt. The scent of gold made his nose twitch. The rest of the chain was strung with pretty shells, bits of sea glass, flashing bits of common metal that meant little to his kind but was precious to hers.

Marinette set it on the rock and then pulled herself up further so that she could sit and face him. Luka drew himself up into a sitting position as well and pressed his face against hers, bringing up his human hands to cradle her face and hold her to him, overcome with emotion. “Will you accept my gift?” she asked him quietly, combing through his crest—hair—with her quick fingers, doing a much better job of tidying it than he had been able to manage on his own. It felt amazing.

“Yes,” he told her. “In a minute.” He released her and got to his feet, backing away to give himself room to shift.

Marinette frowned. “Where are you going?”

He smiled and answered her, just before the change took his voice. “I’ll be right back.”

When he had his wings back, he reared back and lifted up. The short flight up to his lair took only a few wingbeats. It took a little longer to navigate the tunnels to the chamber that held the treasure he sought.

Luka had spent many an idle moment daydreaming about what he would give her if he could ever bring himself to ask her to bind herself to one not of her own kind. Why he had this piece forged, knowing he would never give it to her, he couldn’t say, but there it was in the box where he had long kept it.

He would never ask that sacrifice of her, but now that she was here, proclaiming her love in both his way and her own...he could hardly refuse her. He hardly wanted to.

Luka lifted the gift carefully in his talons. A necklace braided from the fur of his crest, which wouldn’t rot away in the water, and decorated with his scales, which flashed blue in the light like the shiny bits of metal her people coveted, but wouldn’t tarnish and would never need polishing. The centerpiece was a perfect blue diamond, the prized treasure of his hoard. A gift, as his culture demanded. A sacrifice, as demanded by hers. It was almost physically painful to part with it, but that was the point. Though, he wasn’t giving it up, not truly, not if Marinette wore it and Marinette was to be his, and that made it bearable.

Luka couldn’t help himself as he neared the entrance of his cave. He planted his talons in the rock, took in as big a breath as he could hold, and loosed a roar that echoed over the water. He followed it with a gout of flame. He listened for a long moment, but no challenge answered his territorial cry, and he huffed in satisfaction before leaping into the air and gliding back down to the rock where Marinette waited for him.

He didn’t change right away, pacing instead carefully to where she waited for him and lowering his head down to hers.

Marinette giggled, not shying away from his fangs or the horns spiraling up from his head or the spines along his neck as he rumbled happily, nuzzling her, shoving her gently with his muzzle until she laughed and draped herself across him, wrapped her arms as far around his face as she could. Luka gave a wicked dragon grin, blinking his large eyes at her once before he tossed his head, sending her with a startled yelp into the air and back into the ocean. He rumbled with laughter as she emerged, playfully indignant. Luka flicked his spiked tail smugly as she swam back—on top of the water, so she didn’t have to stop scolding him. Luka shifted, a human laugh in his throat.

“That was mean,” she huffed, pulling herself back up on the rock.

“That was vengeance,” Luka chuckled. “You should know you can’t taunt a dragon without consequence, little fish.”

“Hmph,” Marinette pouted, folding her arms. Luka laughed again, coming to sit down as close to her as he could.

“Now,” Luka said, leaning in. “Now I can accept your gift, provided you will accept mine in return.”

He bent his head, and let Marinette lift the necklace over his hair and settle it on his shoulders. It was the only time he would wear it; he was already planning where he would make a place for it in his hoard. Marinette might pout, but it was his nature to hide away that which was precious to him. Surely she understood that by now.

He put his gift in her hands so she could inspect it. She squealed in delight over the glittering scales until he had to laugh at her, and then finally directed her attention to the gem at the center.

“What is it?” Marinette asked, fascinated with the way the light played along its facets.

“A rare and precious thing, forged deep inside the earth by time and nature and honed with human arts into a thing of great beauty and value.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Besides your love, it is the greatest treasure I possess,” he told her as he pulled back, his eyes going to the bright blue gem almost against his will. He blinked and forced his gaze back to her face. “Humans will kill for this, my love.”

Marinette sniffed, still examining the pretty thing. “Humans will kill for anything.”

“I am very serious, Marinette,” Luka said, curling a finger under her chin to tip her face up towards him. “You must keep it and yourself safe, or no force on this earth will be able to stop the destruction I’ll bring to the ones that hurt you.” He studied her face for a moment, and was satisfied by the solemn way she returned his gaze.

“I’m not helpless, Luka,” she reminded him, her fins flaring out slightly with her words, the sharp, poisonous barbs of her spines rustling. “I’ll keep it safe.”

“Keep yourself safe,” Luka corrected her, taking the necklace back and slipping it over her head before bumping his forehead against hers. “I would trade every treasure in my hoard for your safety in a heartbeat.”

Marinette shivered, covering his mouth. “Don’t say such things,” she whispered. “It feels like an omen. Besides you know I would never want you to do that because of me.”

“But I would,” he told her seriously, nuzzling her. “I wouldn’t be able to help it. You are mine now and anyone who takes you from me will learn the price paid by those who steal from dragons.” Luka put his arms around her and pulled her close, wishing he had wings to wrap her in, to hide her away from the world.

But he couldn’t. Every dragon knew how to care for his treasures. No matter how much he longed to hide her away, Marinette was a creature of freedom and the sea, and to take either of those from her would destroy everything precious about her.

Marinette pulled herself close, pressed their foreheads briefly together, and then tilted her face to join her mouth to his. Kissing wasn’t something that came naturally to Luka, but the merfolk kissed, and so he had let Marinette teach him, to make her happy at first, but he quickly found why they were so fond of it. There was very little softness in his life, and he would have said he had no need for it until he felt Marinette’s lips on his own. Now kissing her was as easy as breathing and as hard to go without, the press of her sinuous body against his as welcome and as necessary as the touch of the sun on his scales. He combed his fingers through her hair, and lowered his head slightly so she could do the same to him.

“Will you swim with me?” Marinette asked him.

“I’m not made for swimming,” he reminded her, chuckling, stroking the bend of her tail lightly. Her tiny scales were so different from his own armored plates, warmed from the sun and firm but pliant under his hand.

“Humans can swim,” Marinette said, poking his human chest. “So can you. You can swim even as a dragon when you must, I’ve seen you. Surely you can swim with me for a little while as a human.”

“Marinette,” Luka said gently, smoothing his hands down her arms. “Of course I will swim with you if you like, but you know it won’t be the same. It won’t be as it would with one of your own kind.”

“I don’t want my own kind,” she said, using her grip on his shoulders to haul herself up even with his face. “I want you. I want you to kiss me and hold me and swim with me. It doesn’t matter if it’s not the same. It only matters that it’s you. I know a nice place where the waters are calm and even you can swim without fear,” she told him teasingly. “There's a cave where we can both rest. Together. In whatever form we choose.” She kissed him, and then nuzzled his cheek and nipped at his neck, lightly and then harder, making him jolt and gasp and growl with approval as she ran her tongue over the bite. She’d gotten as good at learning his ways of showing affection as he had at hers.

She smiled at him knowingly, and then with a twist of her body, plunged back into the water, looking up at him expectantly.

“Can’t I follow you there?” he suggested. Her pout made her opinion of that clear and he sighed.

Luka moved to the edge of the rock and slipped over to slide into the water.

Marinette circled him, her fins brushing teasingly along his body, though she kept her poisonous spines tucked carefully away. She held out her hands to him and Luka took them. “There is one thing I must ask,” he said as she pulled him close, drawing his arms up around her neck and wrapping hers around his waist, holding him up in the water easily despite the waves.

“Which is?”

“Promise me you will remember that only one of us has gills.”

Marinette rolled her eyes at him even as her tail curled protectively around him. “That was one time, Luka!”

“Once was enough, my treasure. I would prefer not to nearly drown a second time.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Dragon,” he reminded her, kissing her cheek and nuzzling her temple. “Do I need to remind you what happened the one time I took you flying with m—“

Marinette disappeared under the water and out from beneath his arms, and, unprepared, Luka went under for a moment. Then he felt Marinette’s arm around his chest and he broke the surface with a gasp, but she was already swimming, towing him along his back, and Luka was forced to shut his mouth to keep seawater out of it. He growled, but just relaxed and let her pull him along.

He was patient. He’d get her back later.

#quickspins #across all realms #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #ml fics #dragon!luka #mermaid!marinette #mermari #fantasy au #the sky and the sea

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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago

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Homeless merman (Leyil) x reader - Part Two (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Part One of Leyil’s story was in response a prompt sent in anonymously to @cozycryptidcorner on Tumblr, and I wrote a drabble on my phone, super late at night, never expecting it to become one of my most popular stories!! And here is the much-asked-for part two!

Contents: 6200 words, a reader who can't swim getting into a bit of difficulty, and some merman smut...

I hope you enjoy it!! As ever, let me know what you think :). P.S. I love you folks

*********

Getting your new tenant from his temporary home in the town centre’s fountain to your run-down farm on the outskirts was one of the hardest things you’d ever tried to do. Luckily there was an old wheelbarrow in one of the sheds on the farm, so you heaved that up into the bed of your battered old pickup truck and drove to the marketplace to pick him up.

Unfortunately, you discovered when you got there that there was no access for vehicles during the day, so you had to park on a side street, but you’d come prepared with the wheelbarrow. How you were going to get him into it was another matter, but you’d figure that out when it came to it.

Leyil was sitting in his usual space by the statue, hauled out and drying up in the strong sun, surrounded by his few belongings and his cardboard sign which read ‘water please’ propped up nearby, looking exactly as he had the previous day when you'd first met him. His skeletally thin arms hung limply by his sides and he was slumped against the stonework, his breathing laboured, bony ribs rising and falling irregularly, and his dull, drab looking tail-fan spread over the cobbles like an abandoned sheet of newspaper. Someone trod on the tender skin of the caudal fin as they passed and he hissed weakly but otherwise didn’t react.

Anger boiled hot in your stomach at the way folks were treating him, and you hurried closer with your wheelbarrow.

“Hey,” you smiled when you approached, bearing another fresh fish for him from the stall on the other side of the market. You’d picked it up on your way over and you’d even managed to get another shiny trout for him.

When you presented it to him, kneeling down beside him, he looked slowly up at you with his enormous, inhuman eyes, and simply stared.

“Leyil?” you asked. “You remember me from yesterday?”

His breath wheezed and rattled, and he took a couple of goes at speaking before any sound came out. “You… You came back…” he finally rasped.

“Of course I did,” you said, trying to mask shock and upset behind a friendly expression. “Here,” and you offered him the fish. “You hungry?”

He nodded weakly and when you held it a little closer to him, he smiled, cracked lips stretching and his dark eyes filling with tears again.

You let him eat in peace for a while and then offered him a bottle of water, most of which, again, he poured over his gunked up gills with a rattling sigh of relief that struck you deeply. His webbed hands trembled with the effort of holding the bottle, but he didn’t seem to want to let go of it, so you simply let him keep it when he was done with it.

“Thank you,” he said again, voice quavering and dry as a handful of late autumn leaves.

“You’re more than welcome, Leyil. Listen, do you still want to come and see if the lake on my farm is any good for you?”

He swallowed thickly. “Is… Is it far?”

You shook your head and pointed east. “It’s a couple of miles out of town that way. If you don’t like it, I can always bring you back here, but I can’t imagine it’d be much better here than there…”

Leyil managed a lopsided smile and shook his head. The first traces of humour glimmered in his eyes and he agreed with you. “No,” he muttered. “Neither can I.”

You smiled in return and said, “So… I had to park in a street just off the market, but I brought a wheelbarrow with me to help get you there. Is that ok? I’m not sure how we can get you into it though…”

He wheezed a rattling laugh and said, “I could go back to the fountain…” he said, eyeing the low stonework of the fountain’s bowl and then gesturing at the little sheet of cardboard on which he was sitting.

“Ok…” you said, following his train of thought. “You get up onto the wall of the fountain and then scoot over into the wheelbarrow?”

He nodded.

The fountain wasn’t far away, and you offered to gather up his things for him, but he hissed, “Leave them. I don’t want to bring anything with me.”

“Fair enough,” you said, stepping away from the empty takeaway cup and a scrap of ragged fabric beside him. He began to slide on his backside over to the fountain, the cardboard sheet beneath him acting as protection for his delicate and fragile tail as he scooted himself on shaky arms over the rough flagstones of the market square. Panting, struggling for breath, he paused halfway, elbows quivering, muscles shaking.

“Water?” you asked and he nodded.

Unable to hold himself upright and take the bottle from you, he fell backwards onto the warm stones and winced as the sores on his back hit the floor. He finished the rest of the water and lay there a while, gathering his remaining strength.

There weren’t too many folks in the marketplace yet, but those who passed slid by the scene as if stepping round a pile of garbage, pointedly ignoring the pair of you.

A thought occurred to you and, while he recovered, you asked, “Why don’t you stay in the fountain all the time?”

He snorted and croaked, “They treat it with chemicals to stop it going green. I tried… I tried to stay in there all the time when I first… first came here, but…” his breath caught and he gave a horrible, sucking, wheezing inhale.

“Easy,” you said. “Save your breath. You can always tell me later.”

He nodded and concentrated on stilling his uneven, ragged breath.

The rest of the way to the fountain was a hard slog for him, but he made it in the end. It wasn’t far, perhaps ten paces, but he was exhausted. “Leyil, I don’t want to patronise you, but would you like me to help you up onto the wall? I could probably lift you at least that far…” Manoeuvring him into a wheelbarrow was one thing, but heaving his dead weight onto a low sill didn’t seem like it’d be too strenuous, especially given his emaciated state.

Clearly embarrassed, he nodded, and you leaned in close to him, sliding your arms under his and hoisting him up to sit on the low, stone wall. You scuffed his backside on the rough wall and he winced but said nothing, even when you apologised. He smelled truly awful, like fish left out to rot in the sun, but you figured that you wouldn’t smell too pretty if you’d had to live on the streets either.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, head hanging low as he turned his face away from you.

“It’s not your fault, Leyil,” you said again. “Take your time, then we can swing you into the wheelbarrow. I’m just so sorry it’s all so undignified…”

The merman barked a hoarse laugh and turned his intelligent, sharp eyes to your face. His silent gaze said so much, but he added, “Living on the streets and being spat on by passers by is degrading… a little indignity like this, I can deal with.”

You smiled, a warm admiration sweeping in to replace the anger that still frothed inside you at the way he’d been treated. As if sensing this, he reached a cold, clammy hand for your wrist and gripped you with unexpected strength.

“Don’t pity me. I refused to leave the lake. I should have gone…”

“Even if you refused to go, you shouldn’t have been treated like that…”

He shrugged and let go. “Most people here have never seen a merman. I think they’re afraid of us.”

“Why?”

The sharp-toothed smile you got was hardly reassuring. “Don’t you know the stories?”

You raised an eyebrow and he laughed huskily.

“We sing the landfolk to their doom and feed on them…”

“Is that true?” you asked, suddenly afraid that you’d offered him a home in your lake. You fought the urge to yank your wrist out of his cold grasp. “I thought it was just a fairytale…”

His smile remained, but the gentleness in his weedy-green eyes softened it and he let go of you. “Some of us know the songs and have the magic, but your kind is in no danger from me. I just want a place to live.”

“Well, let’s get you into the truck and into my lake then,” you said, goosebumps shivering along your skin as you tried to put your disquiet to rest.

He swung himself into the wheelbarrow with surprising grace but he gasped as his sensitive, sore skin hit the chilly metal. He laughed a moment later and tried to tuck his tail up out of the way of where your feet would be walking. He lacked the strength, however, and it flopped back down to trail in the dust like a ragged train, leaving him panting and shaking.

“I’ll be careful,” you reassured him, and he smiled, too tired for speech.

People stared openly as you wheeled him out of the marketplace, and as one particularly rude human gawped at him, he bared his teeth and hissed like a cat at them until they turned and scurried away.

“Nice,” you grinned slyly at him and he chuckled. He still looked exhausted, but behind the pallor of his sunken cheeks there was a slight colour beginning to rise.

It took a bit of jostling to get him from the wheelbarrow into the front seat of the truck, but eventually he was in, and he laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He sat there, unmoving and barely breathing, clearly exhausted, while you loaded up the barrow into the bed at the back and then returned to fasten his seatbelt. He watched you with curious eyes but offered no comment as you reached close to him again.

As the truck rumbled out of the town, he stared at the pine trees as they flashed past with a look of wonder on his gaunt face. His skin was so pale it seemed to glow, and you noticed little patches of scales on his shoulders and at his elbows, the same colour as his dirty, jade green tail.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered perhaps a mile later down the road.

You glanced over at him again and he shot you a look before returning his eyes to the countryside beyond. “I’m new to the area,” you said carefully, worrying about bringing up his old home, “Is the countryside like this around the lake where you used to live?”

He nodded wistfully. “Yes.”

“Can I ask why you didn’t leave with the others? I heard they were offered a new home…”

He lowered his head. “I should have gone with my family.”

“You spawned here though, right?”

Leyil nodded once. “Each water system has its own unique composition,” he said, staring at his webbed hands in his lap. He’d begun to slide down the seat a bit, but he made no effort to straighten again. “I… I couldn’t bear the thought of being in a different water system - it gives us our life, our nutrients; makes the fish taste the way they do and, well, it gives us our magic.”

“You’d be without your magic if you moved somewhere else?”

He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe? Or it wouldn’t behave the same.”

“Can I ask what kind of magic you have?”

He turned his enormous eyes to you again. “I’m a singer,” he said. “But I promise you, you’re in no danger from me.”

“Right,” you said weakly. Inviting an aquatic predator to your home who could lure you to your death was beginning to feel like a very bad idea.

His shoulders sagged and he swallowed thickly. “I promise you,” he hissed insistently.

“Ok.”

The rest of the ride passed in an awkward silence, and when you finally bounced to a halt at the end of your rutted driveway, he looked like he was about to hurl. Merfolk apparently didn’t travel well in vehicles.

You fetched the wheelbarrow again and when you came round to his door, his webbed hands were pressed flat against the glass of the window, and his eyes were wide with amazement as he gazed out at the lake in the distance, his queasiness apparently forgotten.

You knocked on the glass and he sat back, allowing you to undo his seatbelt again before using the door and handle to swing himself down into the wheelbarrow. A couple of his dull scales had fallen from his tail into the foot-well of the car but you ignored them and concentrated on getting him to the water.

At the shores of the still, black lake that was probably a quarter of a mile long, though nowhere near as wide, and flanked on each side by tall, dark pines and long grasses that dipped their heads towards the water as if in a reverent bow, you halted and Leyil released his white-knuckled hold on the edge of the wheelbarrow.

“Alright,” you said. “I think it’s deep enough here that I could probably just slide you into it from the bank,” you said. “It’s not very dignified, but it’ll be effective…?”

He smiled up at you and laughed excitedly, his row of razor sharp teeth glimmering in the greenish light of the lake shore air. “It smells wonderful,” he said. “Please, I can’t wait. I think I’ll probably try to leap into the water like a salmon if you don’t tip me in immediately…”

“Ready then?” you laughed and he nodded.

The splash he generated when he hit the weedy water soaked you, and he disappeared immediately below the surface with the speed of a hunting eel.

“You’re welcome…” you murmured when he showed no sign of reappearing after another few minutes. You stood there and watched for his reappearance for a good five minutes, but he never showed, so you rolled the wheelbarrow back to the tumble-down barn and decided to get to work on some jobs in the farmhouse. Plugging a leak in the roof was a priority if the weather report was to be believed.

A thunderstorm rolled in that afternoon and you spent the duration of it huddled up in your living room with a book beside the fire, hoping that he was alright.

The moment the rain stopped, perhaps a few hours later, you flung on some wellies and tramped across the sodden grass towards the lake. The shore was dotted with huge boulders here and there, and a wide, pebbled cove stretched in a half moon along the nearest shore to the house. In the wake of the rain, a gentle mist had begun to form and it drifted through the pines in thick clouds, hanging low over the surface of the water.

“Leyil?” you yelled, your voice echoing eerily back at you. A crow circled from the nearest tree top, but other than that, the scene was still.

You waded out into the clear shallows, your rubber boots allowing you to slosh around up to about a foot or so. You bent down and waggled your fingers through the chilly water a few times and called his name again. If he was at the other end of the lake, there was probably no way he could hear you.

Perhaps three or four minutes later, his head broke the surface of the water and he grinned, swimming rapidly towards you. Instinctively you took a step or two back until you were out of the water and standing on the glistening grey pebbles of the shore, still wet from the downpour.

He powered up into the shallows where you’d been standing only a moment before and then leaned on his forearms, his tail fanning out behind him in the water as he looked up at you. “It’s perfect!” he exclaimed, rolling over in the water and coming back to rest on his elbows again. “It’s even the same water as my old lake!”

“I’m glad,” you said. “Is there enough for you to eat?”

Leyil nodded vigorously. “And there’s a big old pike here too. He’s mean, but I think I’ve shown him who’s boss now.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “That’s a relief,” you said. “I wanted you to have a home where you felt safe. The storm didn’t trouble you?”

“Nope,” he smiled. He was still gaunt and emaciated, and his skin still had sores and cuts on, but a lot of the life seemed to have soaked back into him. Perhaps what he’d said about his magic being connected to the water system was true. He must have read something in your expression that you hadn’t meant to show because he tilted his head to one side, his long, lank, black hair dripping into the gently lapping water at the shore, and he murmured, “Did it trouble you?”

You managed a smile. “I’m not a big fan of thunderstorms. Especially not with a leaky house…”

“Oh,” he said, his good mood tarnishing visibly. “I… I’m sorry. I wish I could help you… could repay you for your kindness…”

“Just enjoy yourself and my lake,” you said, trying to force a smile. You really meant it, but somehow you felt as damp as the leaves around you. If you’d thought that bringing him here was going to provide you with some company, you were just beginning to realise that you and he really were totally different creatures, with totally different habits and behaviours, and you might only rarely glimpse him if he happened to surface while you were at the shore. Your life was going to be just as lonely as it had before.

But looking down at him, you knew that none of this was about you. This was about giving Leyil his dignity and pride back, and giving him a home where he could thrive.

“I will,” Leyil said, bowing his head. “And I will cherish it. Thank you.”

You shivered in the damp air and drew your coat around your collar. “I… I think I’m going to head back inside,” you said, “But I’ll see you around, ok?”

Leyil shimmied back into the deeper water and vanished with a flick of his tail.

Life settled back into its previous rhythm. You worked on the farm, trying to get it back to a state where you might be able to keep animals - just a few chickens, maybe some geese - and that took up a lot of your time.

As you shuttled between the buildings on the little tractor you’d bought, or ferried fence posts across the yard, or lugged paint cans from the barn to wherever they were needed, you always kept half an eye on the lake. Sometimes you would see Leyil breach the surface for a moment, and sometimes he would wave at you from a distance, but mostly you both kept to yourselves for the next few weeks.

One afternoon in late summer, as the temperatures soared, you made your way down to the lake and took off your heavy steel toe-capped boots and your socks and paddled out just a little way into the water. It was deliciously cool and you moaned a private, soft sigh at the beautiful sensation.

The glimmering ghost of a figure moved a few metres off shore while you still cooled your toes, and you watched as Leyil slowed and bobbed his head above the surface. His hair was pretty long now, streaming down his back, and his figure had filled out more. He was still skinny, but he no longer looked starved. “You should come in!” he laughed. “It’s hot today!”

With half an involuntary step backwards, you shook your head.

“Why not?” he asked, seeming oddly disturbed by your fear of the water.

“Can’t swim,” you said.

His eyes went wide and his mouth opened a little way. “You bought a house with a beautiful lake and you can’t swim?” he asked, astonished.

“Guess so,” you smiled.

After a pause he tucked his long hair behind his ear and said, “I could try and teach you?”

Bile rose up your throat and you felt your heartbeat triple in pace. “Um… thanks, but… I’m… I’m not sure…”

“Please?” he said, recovering from his surprise and swimming a little closer. “Please; this is something I can do for you!” he smiled, green eyes wide. “I can give you something for what you gave me!”

“Leyil, you’re a predator,” you blurted, adrenaline coursing through you at the thought of water pressing in on all sides. “I’m not getting in the water with you.”

Shock wiped his face blank of joy and he simply stared at you.

“I mean…” you said. “I didn’t mean it like that, but…”

If you’d slapped him he couldn’t have looked more surprised. Without a word, he turned and vanished beneath the surface.

“Shit,” you cursed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Leyil didn’t appear at all for a week after that, though you went down to the lake morning and night to try and apologise for your unthinking and hurtful words.

Two weeks slipped by and you didn’t see the faintest sign of him. He refused to come to the surface when you waded into the water up to your calves, and you didn’t even catch the slightest glimpse of him at a distance beneath the water.

On the hottest day of the year so far, you made a decision.

Before you lost your nerve, you stalked down to the lake again and stood there a moment, breathing deeply, pulse thrumming. Then you stripped down to your underwear and waded out into the lake. It was breathtakingly cold and as it lapped at your tummy button it made you gasp. With your arms held up out of the water, you stood there with it up to your ribs, heart hammering, breath ragged and shallow and quick.

“Leyil?” you yelled across the lake. “Leyil… I… I’d really like to apologise to you… I don’t know if you can hear me, but… well… I’m in the water…”

You ground your teeth and dunked your shoulders in with a screech as the cold water closed around you. You just about kept your head above the water, your feet staggering on the uneven bottom of the lake. You knew it was stupid to go in the water when you couldn't swim, but you couldn't think of any other way to get Leyil to notice you.

Taking a few tentative paddles, you tipped forwards and had a go at swimming.

And failed. Immediately.

The water slipped through your fingers like sand and you began to sink. Panic, blind and raw, overwhelmed you and you screamed just as your mouth went under and the water sloshed over your head.

A flash of white in the murky depths was instantly followed by an arm hooked around your waist and you found yourself powering through the water. For a horrible moment you thought you were going to be dragged down, but your head broke the surface an instant later and Leyil drove you onto the pebbles of the shore with the power of a charging orca whale, his wide eyes full of fear.

“What are you doing?” he hissed at you, his chest heaving as though he’d swum a great distance at a flat out sprint. Perhaps he had. “You can’t swim!”

“I…” you coughed, shaking violently all over. “I’m sorry…”

He stroked your face with his smooth, cool hand. “Shh,” he said. “Just breathe.”

“I hurt you,” you spluttered.

“Yes,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Not really. I’m afraid of the water, not of you… not really.”

He grinned and you glimpsed sharp teeth. “I could have had you just now if I wanted,” he said. “But I’d rather have you alive, and as my friend, than as my dinner, alright?”

“That’s… somehow not very comforting…”

Leyil laughed. “Ah, there you are; you’re back,” he said, and you realised that you could breathe more easily again.

You sat up, limbs still shaky, and looked at him.

“You scared the hell out of me…” he said. “I heard you from the other side of the lake, heard the ripples, and then I heard you trying to swim. I felt it. I felt you drowning…”

Now it was his turn to start shaking.

“I was so afraid I wouldn’t get to you in time…” he said in a tiny voice. “You saved me, and I was so afraid I wouldn’t be able to save you.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, throat hoarse and sore.

He looked at your mostly-naked body and reached his palm out to your chest, right below your collarbones. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured before withdrawing his touch and clearing his throat. “You should warm up. You’re trembling…”

“The sun’s warm,” you said. “I can just lie here for a bit.”

“You mind if I stay with you?”

You snorted a laugh. “Sure, but I’m not stupid enough to try and come in again,” you said bitterly. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Leyil’s little chattery laugh livened your spirits a little and he lay on his belly in the shallow water of the shore at right angles to you while you stretched out on the pebbles. After a while, he started to haul himself out to lie next to you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, confused. “Won’t you dry out…?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I don’t mind,” he said. “And it’s not exactly far to get back into the water,” he added, slapping his tail fin down where it still trailed in the surface of the lake and sending fine drops splattering through the air to land on your sun-warmed skin. “Do you mind?”

You shook your head.

After a while, your heartbeat returned to normal and your breathing evened out again.

You turned your head to look at him, only to find him staring at you. He was still lying on his front, with his chin propped nonchalantly in his elegant, talon-tipped hands. The webbed skin between his fingers was translucent and beautiful as alabaster, and you noticed that where his tail had been drab and dull before, it now gleamed with a myriad colours like an opal in full sunlight.

“What?” he asked softly when he noticed your eyes roaming all over him.

“You’re looking well, that’s all,” you said, heat creeping up your neck. He was exquisitely beautiful and you felt your mouth beginning to go dry.

He cocked his head to one side and smiled wryly, which only made you flush hotter.

After a while you asked, “Leyil…?”

“Mmm?” He had laid his head down drowsily on his forearm and was staring at you while you closed your eyes and let the sun warm you through.

“Would you sing for me?”

“You want me to sing for you?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes.”

“But what about that ‘predator’ comment?”

You shrugged without opening your eyes. “I do trust you really.”

He sighed and then you jumped as his hand cool touched yours. “Thank you,” he said, and when you opened your eyes you saw that his own were glistening softly. “I promise you that you’re in no danger from me.”

“I know,” you said. “I… I let my fear of the water become a fear of you, which wasn’t fair.”

He shrugged and sat up, bracing his upper bodyweight on his left arm while his tail fin still lay in the water like a leaf on a pond. “I understand.” He inhaled deeply and then asked, “What sort of song shall I sing you?”

You looked at him and said, “What do you feel like?”

“It’s funny,” he said nervously, “I haven’t felt like singing in a long time. The last time I sang, I was leaving my home behind because the water was draining and the lake was turning into a mud bath. I crawled into the city looking for help and ended up living in the fountain.”

“Leyil,” you said gently. “You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to… if it’s too painful…”

He shook his head. “No, I’m ready. It’s about time. Perhaps I’ll sing a new song about this place, and about you.”

“I’d love to hear it.”

Leyil closed his gorgeous eyes and seemed to fall into an almost meditative state for a while, but soon he began to hum.

It started soft as the breeze in the trees beside the lake, a mere whisper across the rippling water, and despite the warmth of the sun, goosebumps rose and prickled along your arms and legs at the sound of it. His rough, hoarse speaking voice turned into liquid sound, smooth and flowing as a stream over rounded river rocks, and the music he made was truly unearthly.

The melody ebbed and flowed, now soft, now strong, and soon you found tears rolling down your cheeks as he sang, almost without stopping to breathe. It had begun as a heartbreakingly sad tune, so much so that your chest physically hurt at the emotions he poured into his haunting song, but as he let it continue, his haunting voice rolling over the water and the trees with the impact of distant, rumbling thunder, it began to change. An immense joy surged through his voice and he tilted his head back, throat working, chest heaving, as he unleashed his song to the sky.

It seemed to vibrate in your ribcage and buzz in your ears as his magic filled your consciousness completely. You became aware of everything: the water lapping at the pebbles; the pine needles bristling in the dense forest behind you; the fish darting like shadows in the shallows; the weeds wafting back and forth in the softly shifting currents of the lake; the feel of the chill water on Leyil’s broad tail; the press of the stones against his scales; the incredible warmth of your hand in his…

With a gasp you let go of him, snatching your fingers back, snapping the contact, and the spell was broken.

Leyil fell silent.

He opened his eyes, breathing hard, and smiled a little at you, blinking slowly as though dazed.

“Leyil,” you breathed.

“You felt it, didn’t you?” he asked when he’d recovered his equilibrium a little. “You felt my magic… Not everyone can, you know?”

You had no response to that for a while until you whispered, “I think I felt what you were feeling as you sang…”

His smile broadened. “Then you’ll know how grateful I am to you for giving me all this,” he said, reaching for your hand again.

This time you did not recoil. You let him run his palm up your forearm towards your shoulder, tracing the contours of your body as much with his eyes as with his touch. The merman shuffled a little closer to you and you lay back again as he turned his intense, green stare along your body and at your legs stretched out on the smooth pebbles.

Looking back at your face for permission, he moved his hand to your bare stomach and then to your hips. Your breath caught as he circled his thumb at your hip bone and then moved down your thighs. He lingered there a while, exploring and enjoying the feel of your bare, warm skin against his cool hand.

His eyes shone, and under the intense scrutiny and closeness of the merman, you began to flush hotter. He tilted his head like a curious bird, never breaking eye contact with you. “What do you want?” he asked in a rasping voice, so different from his singing voice.

“You,” you murmured after a pause. “Leyil, is this… is this because of your song?”

He shook his head. “My song was about this place and about you. I could sing you a different song if you’d like, but… I want you to… I want you to be… free to choose…”

“Me too,” you said firmly.

He leaned in close and slowly pressed his lips to yours. You’d expected him to taste unpleasant, perhaps like fish, but he didn’t. He tasted of the pure, clean lake water, and his sharp teeth raked across your lips while his hands went to your shoulders to steady himself.

“I want you,” he managed to hiss a moment later, pushing himself upright. “Is that wrong?”

You shook your head. “No.”

He smiled and bit his lip. “Your body,” he said. “It’s… It’s so strange to me, and yet so beautiful…”

“So’s yours, Leyil,” you chuckled, floundering a little as you tried to sit up.

Gently, the merman rolled onto his back and let you explore him in turn.

The injuries he’d suffered while on land had faded to corded scars, as though his milk pale skin had been darned with white silk. His hips were angular and sharp, his stomach taut and lean, his arms and chest muscular but slender, and his face had become angularly beautiful instead of gaunt. But it was his tail that truly fascinated you. The shimmering colours in his scales glittered in the sun, and as you ran your fingertips lightly down his stomach and over the transition from bare skin to scales, he gasped, chin jutting upwards and spine arching off the dark grey pebbles beneath him.

“You like that?” you asked, and he nodded frantically so you did it again, eliciting the same response. “You’re sensitive, aren’t you?”

Just below where his tail began, at roughly the point where a human male would have a cock, you noticed that there was a slit in the flesh that glistened with fluid, and the more you touched him, the slicker it became. The flesh seemed to grow puffy there too, swelling as his chest began to heave and his breathing rasped in furious, desperate pants. His clawed hands scrabbled at the pebbles beneath him and he began to whine and gasp as you circled your touch closer and closer to what you knew had to be a sheath.

Running your fingertips around the edges of it, you heard him give a sharp cry of pleasure. “Shall I stop?” you teased and he whimpered desperately.

“Please! Please don’t!” he blurted, bucking weakly and writhing.

As you smiled and dipped a fingertip inside his slick, swollen sheath, he lurched, shoulders hunching inwards as he almost sat up, handsome face contorted in a grimace of exquisite pleasure, and you realised that beneath the pad of your fingertip, you had found a little rough patch at the top of his sheath. You circled it lightly, tenderly, and he cried out in a long, broken wail that made your ears ring as he flung himself back down onto the beach and arched his back into your touch again.

Slowly, his cock began to free itself from the confines of the sheath. Where his tail was an opalescent, greenish blue, the inner walls of his sheath were delicate, pale pink, and the cock that writhed out was forget-me-not blue at the base, fading to pink up the thick shaft, and the swollen, weeping, spear-shaped head was a dark, vibrant pink, flushed with pleasure. Pearly pre-come rolled down the length of his cock as you continued to trace circles on that sensitive bundle of nerves just inside his sheath, and he practically sobbed with desperation.

“Please…” he gasped, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. “It’s so good… please…”

“You want me to touch your cock too?” you asked and he nodded mutely.

You wrapped your other hand around his hard length and he yelled again, his torso contracting in spasms until you thought he might be coming. However, he continued to writhe and moan beneath your touch a little while longer before he forced his large, inhuman eyes open and rasped, “Please… let me… let me come…”

“I’m not stopping you, Leyil…” you said, gripping his hard cock even tighter.

His magic reached out for you then, that familiar feeling from earlier wrapping around your senses and he breathed frantically in rapid, shallow gasps, gills opening too in an attempt to suck in as much oxygen as possible as his pleasure reached its peak. His sheath contracted and pulsed and suddenly he came with a scream of pleasure that you felt in your chest, still connected to him by his magic. His back arched, his head flung back, chin raised, and he released over your hand and his own stomach in a series of messy, convulsing waves.

You had never been so turned on in your whole life, and as he slowly came back down and opened his eyes, he saw your arousal and smiled.

“Let me thank you properly,” he slurred softly, and this time you didn’t refuse him.

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iamvegorott · 4 years ago

Text

Salt of the Sea Ch. 5

Sudden Rush

“He pointed a knife at you!?” Chase’s back fin popped up, gills flaring.

“It’s fine.” Anti was sitting on the sand, arms crossed while Marvin was using a collection of urchin spikes to pick out the tangles in his hair.

“Is it?” Marvin asked. “You’ve been pouting since we’ve gotten up and it’s almost high-sun.”

“If he hurt you-”

“He didn’t hurt me.” Anti stopped Chase’s threat. “I just didn’t think he’d be so scared.”

“We’re Sirens, it’s not surprising that they’d be wary.” Marvin ran his hands through Anti’s hair when he was satisfied.

“I thought he was different.” Anti puffed out his cheeks.

“He must be if you’re willing to put up with him for a whole Cycle,” Marvin said, starting to use the urchin spikes on his own hair.

“He won’t last a Cycle if he threatens Anti again.” Chase swam over to Marvin and took the urchin.

“You know you can’t do that,” Marvin said, closing his eyes as Chase starting working the tangles from his hair.

“Maybe I went too far by saying he could feel my scales,” Anti said. “Maybe touching scales is something more serious for humans.”

“Humans don’t have scales to touch,” Chase said.

“Maybe they relate it to something else they do have.” Marvin kept his eyes closed as he spoke.

“They have hair on their legs, although sometimes they don’t.” Chase clicked his tongue as he thought.

“Maybe just touching legs, in general, is weird for them. They probably think out tails are like that.” Marvin suggested.

“That’s not too far off.” Anti giggled.

“I found one! I found one!” Robbie was happily squeaking with JJ and Henrik following him, a live urchin in his hands.

“Be careful with that, you’re going to poke yourself.” Chase stopped picking and Marvin made a face of disappointment.

“I got ‘em.” Anti swam over to Robbie and took the urchin. “How did it take so long to find one?” He asked as he tore the urchin in half.

“Robbie kept getting distracted by small fish,” Henrik stated. “And JJ hasn’t had his head on since we’ve met the humans.”

“Choke on a bone.” JJ blew bubbles in the water towards Henrik.

“Here, Robbie, pass these out.” Anti gave Robbie the edible insides of the urchin. Five little orange pieces. “I’ll go without today.”

“You sure?” Robbie asked.

“Yeah, not feelin’ it.” Anti shrugged and worked on breaking the urchin into smaller pieces. Robbie swam around and gave the others some of the ‘meat’, all popping it into their mouths as soon as they got it.

“Did you find a different urchin?” Henrik asked when he saw Chase and Marvin.

“We found a leftover piece from yesterday,” Chase answered, Marvin now just enjoying himself.

“My hair’s already done. I’ll take care of Robbie.” Anti gave a piece of urchin to JJ and Henrik before going back to Robbie and having him sit in front of him.

“How do humans get urchins?” Robbie asked as Anti started to work on his hair.

“Maybe they get them with those rope trap of theirs,” Anti suggested.

“Those are too big to get an urchin,” Henrik said and looked at JJ when he poked at his arm.

“Help?” JJ asked with a small smile.

“Yeah, sure.” Henrik didn’t question it and picked JJ’s hair.

“Do you think they use old ones.” Robbie scrunched up his nose.

“They’d smell a lot worse if they did.” Chase chuckled.

“They must use something, the woman, Yandere, I believe her name is, has long hair that looks cleanly picked,” Marvin said.

“She does have really pretty hair,” Chase said and leaned down to press a kiss to Marvin’s forehead. “Not as pretty as yours though.”

“Of course.” Marvin chuckled.

“Gross.” Anti and Robbie both made faces.

“Since when are you worried about your hair this much?” Henrik asked when JJ was touching every spot that had been picked.

“I think I might know why~” Anti giggled.

“Gross.” It was Henrik’s turn to make a face.

“Don’t be such a carp,” Anti said.

“I’m not being a carp, I’m being realistic,” Henrik said. “What’s to say the humans won’t try to kill us when they get the gold and again, there’s a chance there isn’t any gold, how do you think they’d react to that? Humans aren’t very understanding when it comes to their gold.”

“I still think these humans are different,” Anti said.

“All humans are the same.” Henrik scoffed, not seeing the hurt in JJ’s eyes at that comment.

“They probably think the same of Sirens,” Marvin said, getting everyone to stop and look at him. “Just saying.” Marvin shrugged and took the piece of urchin from Chase, the two switching spots.

“You’re done,” Henrik said to JJ.

“Want me to do yours?” JJ asked.

“Sure.” Henrik dropped the urchin in his hand, knowing JJ would use the one in his own.

“We’ll see what the humans are up to and then we’ll go for a full feeding,” Marvin said.

“It feels like we’re babysitting them,” Henrik said.

“We basically are. Can’t return a debt if they’re dead.” Chase said.

“Maybe I’ll use this to get a better knowledge of humans,” Henrik said. “The more we know the easier it’ll be to hunt.” Henrik saw JJ swim around him and use his hand to check his hair. “Already done?” JJ nodded in response.

“Then we’re off.” Marvin gestured with his tail and the Sirens all swam to where the ship was, popping up like they had the previous day.

“Hello?” Chase called up, waving when he saw Wilford peeking over the ledge.

“Hello down there!” Wilford called back with a laugh.

“Come up with me?” JJ asked Anti.

“I’m going to stay down here.” Anti swam over to Robbie.

“Come up with me, please,” JJ asked Henrik. “Being closer better to study.”

“I hate that you have a good point.” Henrik looked and saw the anchor to the ship was too high to easily reach. “Can we use the anchor to come up?” Henrik asked. Wilford looked away for a second before giving a thumbs up and heading to the anchor’s crank.

“Don’t take too long,” Marvin said.

“Trust me, we won’t.” Henrik climbed up the chain first with JJ right behind him.

“I didn’t think you could get more beautiful.” Wilford chuckled when JJ settled in front of him. JJ just silently giggled. “And how are you, Henrik?”

“Here to translate,” Henrik stated in a flat tone.

“He seems like the fun one,” Wilford said with a hand blocking his mouth from Henrik. JJ giggled again and nodded.

Henrik just rolled his eyes and decided to look around the ship, wanting a good basic layout of it. He stopped when he saw one of the humans, sitting with a smaller one, and was wrapping his arm with what looked like a white cloth. Henrik hadn’t bothered learning all the names like the others had and he starting to regret that choice.

“Try to keep this dry, okay?” The human said. “You don’t want to risk an infection.”

“Okay.” The smaller human nodded their head.

“Who’s he?” Henrik found himself asking.

“That’s Edward, our medic,” Wilford answered.

“Medic?” Henrik couldn’t keep his eyes off of...Edward.

“He takes care of us. If we get hurt, he makes sure we heal.” Wilford explained.

“He’s your healer,” Henrik stated. There was a weird and sudden rush of heat going to his face. Sirens didn’t have much heat to them and the fact it was all crawling to his cheeks was strange.

“I guess you could call him that.” Wilford chuckled.

Edward watched as the smaller human took off and he ended up making eye-contact with Henrik. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head and waved with his other hand. Henrik found that he waved back.

He had no idea what was happening to him and he was going to need to talk to Chase and Marvin about this later.

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

Tag List: (let me know if you want added) @takethepainawaybae @shadowkitten0321 @adverseflyer909 @constantgaycrisis @m0th-goo @rainymae523 @rukus-kiss-my-lips-platonically @robot-intestines @phonenix @vociferous-chaos @batsam19 @bapbee @walking-mess25 @voonespelle @madallice329 @grnpurplgrmln @graveyardlettuce

#danti #siren!au #Siren Tales Trilogy

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helloemptyset · 5 years ago

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description and part of story under cut

31 Day Horror House : Days 24 + 25 : a young child monster (or several) + a nanny or on-site schoolteacher

Again, starting from the lobby, you choose a destination on the map, this time a stairway. The map doesn't say if the staircase goes up or down, but you guess it doesn't matter, as long as you can figure out whether it correlates to the other scraps of map you have.

The halls seem less 'stressed' this go around, or maybe you didn't have to walk as long, since the staircase seems to have been under your nose the entire time. It went up, and as you walk up a flight, a bell rings loud enough to shake your teeth. It rings again as you reach the top, then again as you make it into the main hallway, causing you to fall to the now tiled floor.

From your vantage point of the floor, the tiles seem have a sweeter, happier feeling than the tiled hall of the first floor, the white speckled with orange and green in the same speckled shape as fish flakes. The walls have wallpaper now: What you read as the twilight zone of the oceanic zone scale, filled with fish you semi-recognize and some completely alien. Standing was proving to be difficult, the bell having knocked your sense of balance out of sorts, and you manage to drag yourself a little further across the smooth tile with your hands.

You don't make it far before you hear strange slappy sounds in front of you, but you aren't able to turn your head enough to see it. Taking a moment to stop, you pick yourself up onto your knees, quickly falling flat on your butt as you stare right ahead. Two doors, both open and streaming happy yellow light, are in the hallway in front of you, and in the very middle of the hall is a small, child-like... thing.

It looks like someone stuck a remora fish and a stingray together into something soft and baby-shaped. It wobbles on its little feet, head swaying gently on its rolled neck, and flaps its little arm-fins in the air for a moment before softly humming, the noise sounding as if pushed from its chest.

Before you can say something, it walks off into one of the open doors, and another sticks its face out of the other door. You wave, and it waves back, releasing a wet gurgle from its flat, wrinkly face.

There's something disheartening about running into children in a place like this, and as you're thinking about it, someone else much, much bigger walks into view.

"Oh, you found someone..." The voice, emerging more as a hum you think you can translate, sounds surprised in a calm, proud way, and as you look up, you see someone that seemed to just be an adult of whatever species of remora-ray-baby you've run into. Taller, wearing clothes, and with an unnerving design of a face on the underside of her... chin?

"Good afternoon, visitor. Welcome to our class." She says as she approaches, reaching out a flipper-arm to you. You grab it as gently as you can, surprised at how rough her skin feels as she pulls you up. "I see you're a little height-sick."

The two children wander around your feet as you wobble, holding onto the teacher until you feel you can stand properly. She pats your arm with her other flipper, and one of the babies slaps your leg to copy her, making the other go and slap that baby. They end up rolling on the ground, slapping at each other's bellies until the teacher walks between them.

"Now, children, back to class." She shuffles them into a classroom, and beckons you to follow. The room is bright and covered in ocean-based educational materials of all sorts, from posters to toys to little rugs showing the bottom of an ocean floor. There are only two desks, but the floor is soft and clean enough that you sit down beside the two babies.

As you look around, you notice something disturbing. While three of the walls are normal, with bright, happy posters and a large, very used whiteboard, the one at the very back of the room looked like some sort of sea creature's skin. It twitched on occassion, and you watch it squirm and move as if trapped. You couldn't be sure what sort of sea animal it belonged to, but you assumed a whale, as it took up the entire wall of the average sized classroom. It looked pocked with large markings.

"We don't have a lot here, but it is nice isn't it?" The teacher says, walking around the classroom. Her fin slides along a wall. "My school - Small as it is... It's the world to me. I just feel I can't teach much besides my knowledge of the ocean."

The babies make hissing sounds, turning in their stools to watch the teacher.

"My children are so young, so this is fine as a beginning... but they'll grow, and they'll need more to learn." She laughs sadly, something like a growl, "I just wish I had more resources."

You think for a moment, pulling out the map. The library is a little ways from there... But you show her, startled when she pulls the map out of your hands.

"Where in the world did you get this? This is amazing." She takes it to her desk, laying it flat atop her mass of stapled papers. "I've never explored in fear my children would get hurt in the wandering... But this would change everything."

You offer to copy it for her, and she shakes her head, rolling it up with the help of her desk.

"I have a copy machine! I'll give it right back. Just watch the children for me." And without letting you agree or anything, she walks off, leaving you with the babies.

They take to slapping you reassuringly like their teacher... mother? Did, though hard enough to sting. You sorta just lay there and let them, wiggling to provide a moving target.

After many slaps, they give up, laying on the ground next to you. There's something serene about the feeling of laying on the classroom ground, the heavy sound of a distant, slow heartbeat filling the air.

You don't realize you'd fallen asleep until a paper falls on your face, unable to sit up because the babies had moved to lay on your torso, splayed out and gurgling.

"Good job getting them to rest, visitor. I've copied the map for our use." She kneels, petting her children. "Thank you for widening our horizons. I don't think I could ever thank you enough for this."

The babies chirp and gurgle as she pushes them off, rolling along the soft ground, and she helps you up yet again.

She starts class up again once the children are awake enough to pay attention, and as she teaches, you smile and give her a wave as you leave. You check your map, seeing she's added where her classroom is, and make your way back to the stairs.

You feel more... you, than you have in ages.

[ image 1: two small creatures that look like vaguely humanoid mixtures of sea rays and some sort of odd sucker-fish. their faces are flat, with a bright pink color around their wrinkled 'mouths', which just look like raisined-up skin. their legs are fat and end in tiny feet, and they have a short fat tail behind them. their arms are flat and line the side of their bodies like the fins of a ray, and they have three gills on either side. the skin around their 'neck' is squished up, forming a soft roll. they're a dark grey-blue with blue polka dots on their back, and blue linings on the tips of their toes and tail. their belly is grey, the coloration stretching to circle their mouth. one stands up, fins held out, and one sits on the ground, head slightly turned to the viewer.

image 2: an adult version of the vaguely humanoid mix of sea ray and sucker-fish. her sucker-face looks straight up, no longer flat but protruding a little ways from her head. her underbelly markings have formed the vaguest of humanoid faces, two wide circles for eyes and a large, slightly upturned oval, forming something that looks at least a bit like smiling. she is wearing a collared, open tunic that is shorter in the front than the back, a seam in the front for velcroing closed. it is different shades of aqua-green, with little light brown stars on the fabric inside the border. she's also wearing a small string of pearls. her pants are deep grey, and come down at different lengths. she says, 'My school - small as it is...' in a very, very light green square speech bubble. ]

#31 day horror house #original #body horror #very long story again...#long post #trypophobia #not sure how to tag these guys

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a-collection-of-villainous-aus · 5 years ago

Text

Pirate Au pt6

Omg I’m sorry I took so long, but I added sketches at least >>

What was he supposed to say?

'Oh I've just been informed you were the pet of my ass of a brother!'

This was ridiculous, it should not be so difficult to enter his own private chambers, it was his room and yet somehow he felt he was invading Acylius's personal space!

Was Flug mad at him because he appeared or acted like his sibling, after all he knew him to not exactly be that of a decent nature...neither was he but at least he had standards.

Pacing in front of his door, looking up only to glare at crew members who dared to even look funny at him, Mew Mew Loaf still in her water bubble was gently biting the end of her tail before letting go and doing it all over again.

Thinking back to that night when Flug had been desperately pulling his mask back on, how it'd caught on one ear fin made of black spines and beautiful iridescent peacock coloured membrane.

He'd even been so fortunate as to catch a glimpse on one corner of his lips, scarred, something had been done to them, though Black Hat had at least had the sense to realize that Acylius wanted to keep his face hidden, so instead of ripping the mask off he helped him to carefully pull it back down.

That tender moment where Flug had leaned into his palm only to immediately move after catching Demencia's scent... It made sense, his merman...whom he hoped he could belong to one day...but would that happen or would he believed he was always being deceived thanks to Thaddeus's (White hat) behaviour.

Now understanding Acylius's situation he realised the full extent of why the merman recoiled from him, what reason did Flug have to believe they were different, apart from how they lived, one on the sea and one below.

Then there was the given fact, he himself was the most feared being from this universe to the next...

Acylius had learned remaining quiet and out of the way to certain beings, unless he was being pulled about and paraded like some show animal or trophy.

A small mew broke through his endless trail of thoughts, looking down at Mew Mew loaf, she stared back with big black dare he think it, adorable eyes, her gaze soon shifting to the door and then him again...oh she wanted to see her companion.

Black Hat knew he should really go in, talk to him, let Acylius know he would not let Thaddeus take him, he was safe here...but what did safe even mean to a merman like him, it would all be honeyed words to someone who had spent who knows how long with White Hat...there were only two people that creature cared for, himself and Slug.

He and Thaddeus might be brothers in species and of the Earth they crawled out from but gladly they would throw the other into a volcano if it would actually cause them to die.

"Having merman troubles?"

A crew member drunkenly forgot their place and while it had not been meant maliciously, Hat as I have mentioned will only let so very few people talk to him so informally, eye turning black and red a snarl leaving his fanged maw, making the rest of the crew back away and carry on work harder than before lest they end up carrying the same fate of the man whose blood now painted the deck.

Tongue snaking out its way out, licking his lips clean of any blood that had splashed over him, he eyed the corpse, considering if he should make a meal out of it until he was reminded that he was still holding Flug's pet...oh no...she'd seen that.

He'd probably just given Acylius more reason to...wait was she staring at the body with the same hunger, crouching down he lifted the hand and pushed it into Mew Mew loafs water bubble, rows of little sharp teeth were exposed and within moments there was no hand just a bloody stump.

Well that was unexpected and interesting.

"I presume he knows you are like this?"

Hat inquired, peering into her bubble, she swirled in her water ball again and nodded before pointing with chubby paw fin at the body and then the door, mewing enthusiastically.

Black Hat was staring, something was trying to click, match up and as she pointed to the door where Acylius was and the corpse once more he blinked, it dawned on him he'd never asked if the merman had wanted to eat and thus did not know what his favourite food was...until now.

Well that might be a way to win his affections, beloved pet in one hand, and favourite meal in the other.

While the thought of Acylius draped over him and turning him into putty certainly seemed delightful he would try to keep a clear mind, there were other things that needed to be done, to be talked about and he wanted to give proof somehow, that he saw the merman as more than just some doll to be played with.

Fingers curling around the deceased man's collar he watched his crew, door opening by itself a bloody trail followed as Black Hat easily took the body with him, top lip rippling in a growl

"This mess had better be gone before I come back out!"

With that he slammed the door, appearances where everything after all with these shallow humans, it was indeed a rare thing to find someone who had more depth than a piddling rock pool.

He laughed quietly to himself as he

heard them scrabbling to clean up the red stain, heh heh that wasn't coming out but their fear and desperate attempts to scrub it out would be fun for a while.

Looking over at the tank, his smile grew; face more fangs that flesh, oh my, so now Flug was paying him attention or more like the meal in his hand and pet in the other.

"So you are finally acknowledging my existence?"

He leered, chest puffed out and preening, if he'd been covered in feathers they'd have been fluffed up, though he was giving off an air of being smug Black Hat came to a stop as he heard Acylius giggling.

"What has you so tickled?"

His mood fell slightly and then looked to where Flug was pointing, it was at Mew Mew Loaf.

"She likes you, clearly you did something right."

The Pirate King stalled, repeating the words slowly

"Done something... right?"

Mew Mew was resting on what part of Black Hat's palm she could, purring away as her fish tail swayed in the water bubble, it was dawning on him...slowly mind you that Flug actually seemed to have relaxed a little...

He realised now just how important this moment was, if he'd come in showing any aggression to this little creature, Acylius would have thrown up a defensive wall so thick he may never have gotten through to him.

"Black Hat, you will not let any harm befall her will you?"

The demon was quiet as he turned his attention to Mew Mew Loaf who was nuzzling his palm and even gave it a small lick, she was clearly happy as you could even hear her purring through the water.

Now imagine a chibi version of Hat, the way animes do when they make a serious character look adorable.

He was staring at her...well shit and blast it all, he'd already intended no harm in the first place but now she was a tiny ball that if anything happened to her he would kill everyone in the world and then himself am I referencing that quote you're damn right I am, who said I had to be serious.

"No, though after recent revelations, I understand if you do not trust me now or if ever."

Black Hat answered softly, coming up as close to him as he could with glass parting them, levitating the bubble it then sank down into Flug's tank, watching as Mew Mew Loaf instantly swam up to Acylius and nuzzled him.

The sheer joy in her little cries had him smiling a little; honestly he'd not even been aware he was doing so until he noticed Acylius now watched him in return.

Mew Mew Loaf mrrped and went off swimming around the tank that was her new home.

Swallowing he, he found himself unable to move as the merman moved closer to the glass, to him…seeing finely scaled hands press against the surface the old Pirate King wondered what Flug was going to do, there was only the sound of water and the creaking ship as moments passed.

Hat finally breathed (despite not actually needing to) after Acylius broke the silence

“So…you know who once owned me?”

“Yes.”

Their voices were quiet and when Hat had answered he could barely keep eye contact.

How could he when he’d given Thaddeus the world under water while he ruled the land…it was his fault this being had suffered at the hands of White Hat, there was no knowing what other fate might have befallen Acylius if he had not, would he even still be alive, would they have met there were so many what ifs the demon was more lost than anything…he knew it was selfish to be glad fate brought Acylius to him and yet a sting of guilt…because it was he who’d practically put the merman in Thaddeus’s hands.

Clearing his throat he then stripped the body of clothing with is powers as well as making sure it was stripped of filth or whatnot he was not about to feed the creature a dirty meal before also placing the body in the water.

Black Hat could sense the merman’s want to reach out to him, but he did not feel deserving of Acylius’s touch let alone attention, it took an iron will to move away and sit at his desk, despite it being pristine he kept adjusting objects on it, still avoiding eye contact, he knew it was shame he was feeling and he hated it, he’d never felt shame…he’d witnessed it and knew now why people looked like that when they experienced this emotion.

Mew Mew Loaf watched them both for a few moments before going to nibble on the other hand; she loved fingers, good for scratching, good for nibbling.

Acylius let out a soft whine; it was pained as he curled in on himself and sank to the bottom of the tank…so now that the Pirate King knew he was the spoils of Thaddeus…he didn’t want him?

Heart aching and colours growing dull as if someone had drained his scales of life, gills flaring with each breath, a small mew was heard as his little pet came and nuzzled at him and another Mew, this one louder than the last making Amadeus (Black Hat) look up eye wide as he found Flugs tank was now was black, the water was darker than night itself, pieces of skeleton started pelting out, ricocheting around the room, embedding into the wood and one piece even hit the demon square between the eyes as the water bubbled and started spilling over the sides.

As soon as he made a move towards the tank something started rising up, the form was so large in height it had to bend over and all he could do was look up in awe as he realised it was Acylius towering over him a hand on the glass edge as his other wrapped around his currently in comparison tooth pick of a body.

A thick inky substance streaked the merman’s face, falling in thick strings, ear fins flaring as his eyes were such a pale blue they were near white, making his pupils appear no more than pin pricks, rows and rows of needle teeth exposed as Flugs scream was anything far from what Earthly beast could make, it was raging and full of pain.

Amadeus was not frightened of course, but there are many reasons to be scared…fear of never being forgiven, now that was something that frightened him, even if he felt it was undeserved.

Acylius’s grip was far from gentle, but it barely registered as pain, as he spoke though the Captain made sure not to turn away from him this time and listened as smoke left the merman’s maw

“So now that I am no more than waste to you, you who have pined and whined over me, who continued to show signs of envy when I showed my affections for Demencia now reject me…are you so out of touch with reality to recall merfolk customs or have you only ever cared for what you want!”

Hat wanted to face palm into a black hole….of course their kind was commonly known to be in trios, Acylius hadn’t been favouring her over him, he was learning about them both, now though after this if Flug still liked him that would be one hell of a miracle and he dare not ask at this moment, looking down as glass cracked he saw as the front of the tank collapsed, water flooding the room, something that was easily fixable but that mattered little to Amadeus at this moment.

Heart racing and twisting inside he realised his mistake, by not allowing Flug to reach out after he himself had been clearly wanting to all this time…rejecting the contact after finding out his history…had made the merman feel like he was disgusting, spoiled by Thaddeus…this wasn’t just anger it was masking the despair, the pain in him.

Freeing a hand with ease he reached out into the heart of the ink and muck and placed it on him, showing with this simple action he was not repelled by him, looking up at those white eyes the blue deepened, their colour never seemed to settle on one hue, always swaying in tone like the Ocean, water and glass drawing back to their place

“It is not because of something you have done Acylius…I turned from you because it is I who allowed Thaddeus to rule the waters simply because I did not want to, while I consider myself deserving of most things, I see now I am not deserving of you.”

Demencia was standing at the door, it was of course closed behind her cause she wasn’t about to let any prying eyes see this and if anyone had tried to look she’d have stabbed them out, the water had been up her shins and now as she watched it drawing back to where it came from, found everything to be dry as if it had never been.

Wow Black Hat never apologised for anything like…ever.

She stayed quiet as Acylius’s form shrank, melting away and letting go of Black Hat who landed on his ass on his desk just narrowly missing sharp pointed object on its surface, even he noticed everything was dry and back in order.

“This is clearly not my magic…what are you?”

Waters clearing and mask no longer in place, glaring at him with arms folded.

Black Hat was momentarily speechless...he’d perhaps expected a pretty face under that mask but this was breath taking, short ebony hair just long enough to sway in the water, face of white when caught in sunlight shimmered, lips scarred …no doubt the work of his brother and the way he was looking at him…any other circumstance and he’d be like take me I’m yours…well he was going to have to hold up his end of the bet later and confess he’d forgotten to feed him because he was too busy trying to impress him.

“What am I, I think the question you should be asking is who was I? I was next in line to be king, once deep sea merfolk were not despised, we as a race worked in unity, there was peace until Thaddeus , through years of manipulation whittled down the numbers of my kind to the hundreds…we are not even that anymore…”

Mew Mew loaf could hear the cracking in her friends voice and softly mewed coming up to him and nuzzling against him, he cuddled her kissing her tiny forehead gently as he sat on the tanks bottom once more, continuing

“Now that we are rare, we are considered prizes and things to be used as status symbols, some are now stuck in their racial beliefs and some would seek to claim us for gain.”

Black Hat wanted to curl in on himself and never look at him again, usually he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have cared…he never thought something he’d done would ever come back to bite him and so deeply

“I have never cared for the consequences for my actions…because they usually would not be any but-“

“Do not pretend to care now then, your false apologies would only insult me further, did you think just because I have dealt with your brother I would snivel before you?”

Oh god…even as he was tearing him down to the bone with words he found himself loving him all the more, he deserved this and knew it but to see him so forthright unafraid to tell him , call him out on his bullshit…he would bow to no one in his life but this king before him.

Mew Mew Loaf was loafing on Flugs ‘lap’ as best she could you know considering Flug didn’t exactly have a lap and she had a fish tail herself and rested listening to them quietly.

“No, I did not think you would snivel before me…you are far too stubborn for that…but you are afraid.”

It really was all coming together now, the more this went on, noticing how Acylius flinched, the slight recoiling at first before posturing, afraid yes, cowardly no, Black Hat realised Acylius had done the only thing he could have done and before Black Hat could say it, Demencia spoke up as she gently asked him

“Acylius, how long have you been running?”

End of pt six

#pirate au #paperhat #it'll get there I promise #now I can work on blind au #everyone will be out of character forever! XD #Demencia #black hat #Acylius flug #pirate hat #merflug #my art

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fictional-semantics · 5 years ago

Text

For the Lost: “Rivrin’s Transformation”

View Part 1 here

FLLLOOOOMMMM

I hit the water with a loud splash, sinking beneath the waves as if I was transparent. Pressure squeezed my insides, reminding me of the damage I had taken from the fall.

Praying with all my might that this would work, I exhaled through my nose, concentrating on the threads I used as a medium. I gave them an experimental tug, focusing on drawing in a small space.

I inhaled clean air, smiling to myself in relief. My spell had worked. A good thing, too, because if it hadn’t I probably wouldn’t last down here.

This deep in the sea, even through my second skin, I could feel the temperature of the water drop. It wasn’t like a winter chill, bringing a shiver to the skin, but more like the welcome coolness of an autumn breeze.

I turned my head to see how Rivrin and the others had fared from the fall. From what I could see, they all looked fine, but Elias looked extremely unhappy. Rivrin also looked a bit anxious. It wasn’t hard to understand why.

Down here, his senses were a bit disabled. Everything was distorted, even from me, a person who could see perfectly fine. I knew that he would never admit it out loud, though. He despised being weak or a burden.

“Rhea,” I signed. “Call the Sirens.”

She looked extremely concerned at that request. “Are you sure?” She replied. “If something goes wrong—“

“Please just trust me,” I begged her. She gave me an apprehensive look before she nodded.

“Give me a minute.” She signaled before she swam away, going in the direction of one of the underwater caves, determination crossing her face.

“What are you guys saying?” Rivrin asked, sounding frustrated.

“We’re calling the Sirens,” Elias supplied, not looking happy about it. “Not sure why you’d want to, mind. The Sirens around here are extremely temperamental.”

Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. “Oh, that’s a great idea,” Coro said sarcastically. “It’s not like they’ll try to eat us or anything.”

“That’s actually a stereotype,” Rivrin replied. “The Sirens in the Mediterranean are peaceful and vegetarian.”

“Well, we’re not in the Mediterranean,” Coro said. “So, it looks like they’ll eat us.”

“Alexos,” Shynah said warningly. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but—“

Rhea then swam back into view frantically. “I managed to find one, and she’s coming!” She signaled quickly. I mentally braced myself as a golden figure appeared in the water, heading straight at us with an aggressive speed.

From a distance what had appeared to be a mane of golden hair was actually shimmering golden scales from an inch above her golf ball sized beady fish eyes, up over her head and down past her shoulders.

Her skin was shiny like the scales and had a glowing look about them. Her nose was small and flattened with small nostrils. Her hands were webbed and instead of legs she had a powerful tail covered in glistening scales of silver, electric blue and brilliant yellow.

Upon seeing me, she snarled, “You! We told you to stay away, land brat.”

“Yeah, I remember,” I replied, trying to stay calm. Sirens attack when they sense fear, I reminded myself. I watched her without turning my head, my heart was hammering but I had to keep my gait casual with no hint of hesitation.

“Why show your face now? Do you have a death wish?” She asked me, tightening her grip on her spear.

“No, we just need to speak with the chief.” I said calmly. Coro tightened her grip on my shoulder as the Siren hissed in response.

“Land brats are not fit to be in the presence of the chief,” the Siren sneered, pointing her spear at us. “Not with the assassination attempt five moons ago.”

“That was the Superiors, not us!” Elias tried to protest.

“Silence!” She yelled at him, her rage becoming more monstrous. He did as he was told.

“Listen, Salty,” Coro stepped, or swam forward. “Can I call you Salty?”

“No!”

“There’s a potential Slaughter!” Shynah argued, shoving Coro aside before she could insult her any further. “Every species will suffer, not just you! We want to help!”

“You land brats are all the same! You think that you can walk all over us, and not face any consequences! We told your friend,” she gestured to me. “That we would kill him if we saw him again, and we are people of our word!”

Lightning quick, she lunged at me, teeth bared, ready to sink into my neck. There was no way I could move in time.

“NO!”

Before I can comprehend what had happened, Rivrin had thrown himself in front of me, and the Siren’s teeth sunk into his neck.

His scream tore through me like a great shard of glass. I felt my eyes widen and pulse quicken, my heart thudding like a rock rattling in box.

“Rivrin!” I heard Shynah yell. I was frozen in place, unable to utter a sound.

“I’m... okay...” he managed to groan out.

Blood trickled from his neck into the water. Rivrin, with a grunt of effort, he grabbed the Siren’s head and pushed magic into his palms.

With a screech, the Siren was propelled away from him. Clutching his neck, Rivrin grimaced painfully and groaned. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

And before my eyes, he began to transform. Green-blue scales began to stretch along his arms, leaving bloody trails in their wake. His skin bubbled with magic as webbing stretched between his fingers. Gills scored themselves along his throat. His eyes glowed a poisonous green.

Down his hips his scales began, small blue and green iridescent plates that reflected the simmering light of the lake. His legs were merged into one single body at his thighs, and continued well beyond where his feet should have been. At the tapered end, two fins flared out, horizontal like a dolphin. He was a freaking merman. I couldn't believe it.

“Not a merman,” Rivrin corrected me, holding a hand to the wound in his neck. “A Siren.”

“Pesky bender,” the Siren that tried to bite me snarled. “How dare you take our sacred—“

Rivrin flung his arms out, pushed magic into his hands, and she was sent flying back again, this time straight into a rock, where she crashed violently. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said nonchalantly. “I’ve heard it all before.”

“Rivrin...” I murmured, and he turned towards me.

“That was your plan, right? Have me transform into a Siren to get us to the chief?” He said with a playful smile.

I really shouldn’t be surprised that he had figured it out, but he still managed to stun me. His smile slipped a bit at my lack of response.

“Yeah, it’s... um, a bit weird, transforming,” he said. “I’m sorry if I—“

“No...” I cut him off, my voice coming out a bit breathless. “It’s fine.”

I let my gaze wander down his torso and I burrowed my fingers in the sand of the ocean floor to stop myself from reaching out to touch him. To see what it was like. My heart thudded in my chest.

He winked at me playfully before swimming over to the unconscious Siren. Regret flickered across his face as he reached for the chains she had wrapped around her waist. “Usually I would show more respect,” he said. “But that was just rude.”

“She did try to eat us,” Elias reminded him. “I think you can let it slide.”

“These are chains, right?” He looked towards us for confirmation.

“Yeah,” Coro replied, blowing bubbles out around her as she spoke from her air bubble. Rivrin nodded in thought before he beckoned us.

“Alexos, come here,” he ordered.

I saw what he was thinking. “You’re going to chain us up?” I guessed. ““And escort us as prisoners?”

“Classic Tactics,” Elias recalled with an approving nod. “Clever thinking!”

“Normally, I’d be all for the compliments, but we don’t have much time before Salty here wakes up,” Rivrin gestured towards the Siren. He had a point.

“What about the bite in your neck?” Coro asked in concern.

“Minor setback,” Rivrin shrugged dismissively.

“Right,” I held out my wrists. “Chain me up.”

Rivrin grinned, but said nothing. It was time to see if we were truly capable of what no one had dared do before.

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Let me know if you would like to be added or removed.

#wip: for the lost #excerpts of stories #wip excerpt #shapeshifter #fantasy #sirens #fun stuff!#yay #mermaids #sort of #hints of romance??#hehehe

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imagineteamfreewill · 6 years ago

Text

Witches & Water

Title: Witches & Water

Pairing: Reader x Dean

Word Count: 5,738

Warnings: Witches, curses, almost asphyxiation, the ocean, and boats

Summary: The reader is cursed to become a mermaid while on a hunt with Team Free Will. She stays with Dean while Sam and Cas look for a solution, but the prospects look bleak.

A/N: This is a commission! Please leave feedback, and enjoy! Details about commissioning a story of your own can be found by following the link at the bottom of this fic.

Your name: submit What is this?

_______________

When the witch threw you against the paneled bathroom wall, you didn’t expect to be immediately plunged into a bathtub of freezing cold water. It was a shock to your system, and when Cas finally reached in with one hand and pulled you out a second later, you were already shivering violently.

“Jesus, Cas, she’s freezing!” Dean said, already wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you stepped out of the tub. You leaned into his warmth, ignoring the way your heart did a little pitter-patter when he pulled you a little more into his side.

Cas reached forward and pressed two fingers to your forehead. Your clothes were dry in an instant and the shivering stopped a moment later as your body adjusted to its sudden warmth. Even the cut you’d gotten from hitting your arm on the sharper edge of the rectangular faucet was gone. Dean let go of you when he noticed you were dry, and it took everything you had not to let your disappointment show.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

Before you could answer, Sam spoke up from behind you. “Hey guys? Take a look at this water. I don’t think that what Y/N fell into was a regular bath…”

You turned, anxiety tying your stomach into knots as you laid eyes on the shimmering, purple water that filled the tub. Dean met your eyes and you swallowed thickly, looking back at the bathtub once more. The water shimmered and swirled, clearly laced with the witch’s powerful magic.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Cas asked. You shrugged helplessly, standing still as he placed his fingers on your forehead once more. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he finally stepped back and looked at the boys. “I don’t sense anything unusual. She seems perfectly normal.”

Sam glanced over at his brother. “What now?”

Dean shook his head, at a loss. “I guess we wait. As far as we know, the spell could’ve died with the witch. Maybe nothing bad happened.”

“That’s a pipedream and you know it,” you scoffed. Sam and Dean turned to look at you and you offered them a weak smile. “I’m fine for now, at least. I just want to take a shower. I mean, I look like someone rolled me in glitter glue.” You held up an arm for them to see, and, much to your relief, Dean let out a tiny laugh when he noticed the thin coating of glitter covering your jacket sleeve and the exposed skin of your wrist.

“As long as nothing happens on your drive to the motel, I don’t see any harm in a shower,” Cas added, and both boys nodded in agreement.

As you walked with Sam and Dean to the car, leaving Cas to clean up the witch’s remains and the tub of magical water, you let yourself be relieved that you weren’t cursed, at least for the time being. The last time you’d been under a spell, you’d spent a whole afternoon relaying every waking thought aloud to Sam. He hadn’t been too pleased to hear you rant about the owls perched outside the abandoned house you were squatting in, and you smiled a little at the memory as you slid into the backseat of the Impala.

The drive to the motel was filled with talk of possible curses and both boys shooting concerned glances at you from the front of the car. Finally, Dean parked outside the room and you climbed out, stretching your arms above your head and ignoring the boys’ stares.

“Either of you need to use the bathroom before I go shower? No? Great.” You didn’t wait for either of them to respond before making your way into the room, tossing your room key and jacket onto the tiny table as you passed by. After grabbing your bag of toiletries and some clean clothes, you closed the bathroom door behind you. You heard Sam and Dean come into the room as you turned on the water, and you could vaguely hear them discussing the hunt and your potential curse as you stripped off your glitter-covered clothes.

Stepping into the shower, you closed your eyes and let the water run over your face and down your body. A tingling sensation in your legs made you look down, and you let out a cry when you realized that your feet and legs were beginning to meld together. It looked like something out of a horror movie and all you could do was watch in absolute panic. A tail had formed from the limbs before you even understood what was happening. Shiny scales appeared where your skin had been and a long, flowy fin replaced your feet.

You cried out for the boys, your voice a whole octave higher as you struggled to keep your balance. The tail wasn’t near as sturdy as your legs, however, and you slipped, falling to the floor of the grimy bathtub as they burst in through the door with their guns at the ready. You screamed when you fell, pulling the mildew-covered shower curtain down with you in a last-ditch effort to stay upright.

“What the hell?” Dean asked, but you were too focused on your new tail to look up at him. The scales were the same shade of purple as the water you’d fallen into when the witch had attacked you and tears filled your eyes when you realized what had happened.

“Oh my God,” you choked out. “She turned me into a mermaid!”

The shower curtain was more than disgusting, but it was covering your naked upper half and you were grateful for it when you realized that both boys were staring at you with wide eyes. When they didn’t look away from the tail as you began to cry, you slapped your heavy fin against the side of the dirty bathtub in frustration. Water was still pouring down from the showerhead, rolling off the shower curtain and pooling on the floor at their feet.

“Stop staring and help me!”

That snapped them out of it. Both Sam and Dean averted their eyes, fumbling for words as they looked at anything but you and your tail. Dean quickly reached out and turned off the water, avoiding touching you all the while.

“I’ll call Cas,” Sam finally stammered out. He made a quick exit and you watched him go, pulling your arms out from under the shower curtain to wipe at your eyes.

“Can you get me a shirt? And a towel?” you asked Dean. “Please?”

He nodded and followed his brother out the door, returning a minute later with his pajama shirt. “I brought an extra and you normally don’t,” he explained when you stared at him in confusion.

Nodding, you took the shirt, then accepted the thin towel he held out for you a moment later. After clumsily drying yourself off, you pulled the worn t-shirt over your head. Dean had turned away from you to politely stare at the wall, and you took a second to appreciate the fact that he was still a gentleman, even in the strangest of circumstances.

At least my hopeless crush is on someone who’s a great guy when it really matters.

After you were appropriately clothed, you wrinkled your nose in disgust and tried to push the shower curtain off of you. It was too big for you to push it off over the entirety of your new tail, which didn’t even fit in the tub. The bottom third of the limb draped over the side and the right side of your fin was brushing against the outside of the toilet bowl, which made you shudder.

Don’t think about the germs, you told yourself. Focus on getting the shower curtain off and then breaking the spell.

“Here, let me help,” Dean said, suddenly reaching out to gather up the shower curtain and pull it off you. He shoved it in the space on the floor underneath the counter and you gave him a grateful smile when he turned back to face you.

“Thanks.” He nodded silently in response, his eyes flicking down to your tail once more before quickly looking away. “It’s okay,” you sighed after a second. “You can look. I’m still getting used to the sight of it, too.”

Dean reluctantly looked back at your tail, then closed the toilet lid and sat down. “How do you feel?”

You thought for a moment, then replied, “Okay, I guess. I mean, it doesn’t feel… bad. The air in here’s a little dry, though.”

“It’s pretty humid in here, Y/N,” Dean answered. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern as you took another deep breath, not believing him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I think…”

Dean nodded again and you sat in silence, hesitantly running your fingers over the scales on your tail. They were smooth, but not slimy, like you’d originally expected. You could hear Sam talking on the phone with Cas in the other room, but your brain was starting to feel fuzzy.

“Do you think—” You stopped, trying to catch your breath. The air was dryer and thinner than it had been a minute ago and it was like your lungs couldn’t quite get all the oxygen they needed. Dean was watching you with obvious concern as you took another deep breath, your lungs stuttering in your chest.

“Dean?” you wheezed, reaching out a hand for him when you realized that it was becoming increasingly hard to breathe with every passing second. “Dean, I can’t breathe. I can’t— Something’s wrong!”

He was on his feet in an instant. “Sam! Sam, she can’t breathe!”

Sam ran into the room, his phone in his hand as he looked you over. You were still gasping for breath and you looked over at him, desperately reaching for one of them.

“I can’t breathe— Sam, I can’t— Cas—”

His mouth gaping open, Sam frantically looked you over before his eyes finally landed on your neck. “Dean, she’s got gills. She can’t breathe air, she needs to be underwater!”

“Well she can’t fit in the bathtub, Sam, so unless you can convince the motel owner to buy a pool for us, we’re out of options!

“Please—” you gasped. “Ocean!”

The brothers looked at each other for a split-second before Dean sprung into action. Throwing a towel over your tail, he gathered you up in his arms and picked you up, carrying you through the motel room and out to the Impala. You coughed and gasped for air all the while, your vision tinged with black as Sam slid into the front seat and started the car. The car turned out of the motel parking lot and you passed out, Dean’s worried face floating in your mind as you slipped into unconsciousness.

_______________

High-pitched clicks made you open your eyes, and you squinted at the brightness that greeted you. Someone was poking you in the side and you whined, swatting at them.

“Dean, leave me alone!”

The clicks came again, but this time you heard a not-Dean-someone say, “Ouch!” when you reached out with an arm and swatted them again.

Confused, you rolled over and blinked in confusion, scrambling up into a sitting position when you realized that you were staring at a dolphin. Panic filled you as you looked around, your eyes finally landing on your tail.

“Oh my God,” you murmured, slowly taking in your surroundings. “I’m…”

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes flicked back to the dolphin. “Did you… talk?”

If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought that the dolphin looked annoyed with you. “Of course I talked. How else am I supposed to communicate?”

“Oh God,” you whispered. You ran your hand through your hairs, wincing when they caught against a tangle. “Oh my God.”

“You keep saying that,” the dolphin said, sounding exasperated. “Are you sure you’re okay? I have things to do.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!” you finally cried. “I’m human. I’m not supposed to be a mermaid! I shouldn’t be able to breathe underwater!”

The dolphin let out a startled squeal as you pushed upwards, launching yourself off the sandy ocean floor and towards the surface. A boat was floating above you and you slowed as you neared it. You had much more control over the tail than you could’ve ever imagined, and as you neared the boat you realized that if you were seen, your situation could get even worse than they already were. Not only would the curse never be lifted, but you could be stuck living as an experiment for the rest of your life.

Luckily, a familiar face appeared in front of you as you were debating whether or not to surface. Dean, in all his glory, had jumped into the water and sent a flurry of bubbles floating upwards as he submerged himself, still fully clothed.

“Dean!” you cried, swimming over to him. The shirt he’d given you floated around you and you quickly pulled it down with one hand, using the other to grab onto his flannel and help pull him up to the edge of the white yacht.

Dean eagerly grabbed onto the ladder and climbed up to the deck, breathing heavily. You watched from the water, holding back a laugh when he grumbled upon realizing that all of his clothes were soaked, not just the outer layer.

“Where are we?” you asked after Sam had gotten him settled.

The yacht rocked as Sam leaned slightly over the side to look down at you. “Somewhere off the coast of Santa Cruz,” he answered. “A whale-watching boat went past a few minutes ago—you’re lucky you didn’t decide to come up then. How long have you been awake?”

“Only a few minutes. A dolphin woke me up…”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “A dolphin?”

You nodded. “How long have we been out here?”

The boat rocked again as Dean moved, and a moment later, his head popped over the side as well. “An hour or two. We didn’t think you’d make it,” he reluctantly told you. “You passed out before we were even nearing the docks. The motel was pretty far away from the beach.”

Smiling slightly, you remembered how he’d complained that the three of you wouldn’t be able to walk to the beach after the case was over. He’d never been a fan of taking the Impala into sandy beach parking lots, which meant that walking was the only option when it came to vacations.

“Well… I’m here, and I’m alive. Have we found out anything about the curse? And how did you get this yacht?” you asked, looking down the boat’s length. It was a nice boat. No doubt they’d had to pull some strings to get it.

Dean grinned at you. “Agent Plant’s got some pull in Santa Cruz.” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the mischievous glint in his eyes, but Sam only scoffed at his brother’s excitement.

His expression turned more serious as he looked back at you. “It turns out the curse has a timer on it. Cas found the spell in a book that the witch had left lying open, and if we don’t lift it by sunrise…” Sam trailed off and you nodded slightly, knowing the words he’d left unsaid.

Sunrise, you thought, looking towards the horizon. The sun was already starting to get lower in the sky and it had already been a little past one when the three of you had first arrived back at the motel. That meant that you had less than twenty-four hours to lift the curse, and you weren’t going to be much help if you were confined the ocean.

Not that the ocean’s much of a confinement, you reminded yourself.

“Cas and I are gonna do some more research back at the motel,” Sam said, pulling your attention away from the sky. “Dean can stay here with you and make sure that nothing happens. Somehow he’s got service out here, so we can call if we find anything.”

Nodding, you pulled yourself closer to the boat, your tail bumping against the curved bottom. “Please hurry.”

“We will, Y/N. I promise.”

You and Dean remained silent as Sam called Cas, who appeared only moments later and gave you a reassuring smile before disappearing once more, this time with Sam in tow. The waves lapped at the side of the boat and you looked down at your tail, wondering if it would really be so bad to be stuck as a mermaid forever.

Yes, you decided after a minute. It would.

“You seem pretty calm,” Dean finally said, and you looked back up at him, shrugging slightly.

“We’ve been through worse. I mean, I don’t think I know what I’d do if I end up getting stuck like this, but for right now… I’ve still got some hope to hold onto.”

Dean nodded in agreement, his face pensive. “Listen, Y/N—”

You held up a hand, shifting your grip on the ladder and wrapping one arm around the side rail so your hands were free to move as you said, “If you’re gonna give me some kind of last words or something, I don’t want to hear them. It’s just gonna make me sad.”

Though he still looked like he wanted to say something, Dean nodded again and looked back at the man captaining the boat. He was standing stock-still inside the cabin and you wondered if he’d been paid off or if the boys had scared him into not leaving his position. Your attention was torn away from him by Dean moving away from you, shrugging off his wet flannel.

“You’re not leaving me, are you?” you asked, unable to keep your voice from rising in pitch as fear crept in.

Shaking his head, Dean pulled his undershirt over his head and threw it down onto the deck with a wet plop, then began to unbuckle his belt.

“Dean, what are you doing? Put your clothes back on!”

“Relax, Y/N. I’m just gonna get in the water but I don’t want all my clothes to get wet again,” Dean answered. He glanced down at you before turning away again to take off his boots, socks, and then strip off his wet jeans. Once he was undressed except his boxers, he began climbing down the ladder. You pushed away from the bottom of the ladder and averted your eyes as he climbed down, feeling your cheeks flush at the sight of him, despite the fact that you’d seen him dressed in only his underwear multiple times before. You’d lived out of motel rooms with the boys for a year or two before they’d found the bunker, and that hadn’t allowed for much privacy.

“You really use that thing well,” Dean said when he reached the bottom, interrupting your thoughts.

“Excuse me?” you asked as you turned to look at him.

He gave you a cheeky grin. “I meant that you’re swimming with the mermaid tail like you’ve been doing it for years. It looks natural.”

You blushed slightly and looked down at your tail through the water. “Right, yeah.”

“What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing! I just didn’t hear you.”

“Uhuh,” Dean teased.

Lifting your head again, you squinted at him, trying to ignore the way his smile made your insides flip-flop. “Knock it off, you idiot.” You shoved your tail forward, making an underwater current and pushing it towards him.

“Hey!” he protested, using his hand to push a small wave at you. It splashed you in the face and you sputtered in indignation, pushing your own at him. Soon, you and Dean were splashing each other back and forth with hands, arms, legs, and tail. It was a full-fledged splashing match, and you didn’t even realize how much fun you’d been having till he lifted his hands in surrender, begging for a truce.

Dean, his hair now soaking wet and sticking flat against his forehead, was grinning from ear to ear as he paddled back to the side of the boat and grabbed onto the ladder once more. He was breathing heavily when you ducked underwater, breathing in deeply to gather as much oxygen from the water as you could. You felt like a million bucks almost immediately, and you carefully filed that fact away. If you were doomed to spend the rest of your life as a mermaid, it was worth noting that you could go above the surface of the water, but eventually you’d have to come back down in order to breathe.

The Little Mermaid never mentioned the gills, you thought as you watched Dean’s legs lazily kick back and forth. Below you, you could see the dolphin from before watching you. A few more had joined it and you waved slightly. They quickly swam away and you couldn’t help but chuckle. They were a lot like cats—playful, but wary of things they didn’t know or understand. Though, in all fairness, you’d be just as wary if an unconscious person suddenly showed up in your house and claimed that they weren’t actually supposed to be a human being.

After a few moments, you swam up to the top once more. Dean’s eyes were on you as soon as you breached the surface.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess. It’s easier to breathe underwater than it is to breathe up here on the surface, but it doesn’t seem to be as bad as it was back at the motel. Maybe it’s because the rest of me is totally submerged?”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. Before he could ask anything else, the sound of his phone ringing up on the deck of the yacht made you both look up. He climbed up the ladder without missing a beat, drying one hand on the slightly damp towel he’d been using before answering the call.

“Whatcha got for me, Sam?”

You strained to listen in as Dean started pacing towards the center of the deck, leaving you floating alone. The waves lapped at the side of the yacht, breaking the silence, and somewhere in the distance a gull cried, which meant that you weren’t as far from shore as you’d thought.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Dean came back and started climbing down the ladder again. He didn’t say a word until he was back in the water with you, and even then you didn’t hear what he said the first time he spoke.

“What did you say? Dean, what did Sam say?”

“They can’t find anything, Y/N. They’re still looking, but as of right now… It’s not looking too good. I’m sorry, kid. We’re trying our hardest.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding as tears burned in your eyes. Without a word, you dove back under the water and swam underneath the boat, staying beneath the waves as you tried to process what Dean had said.

This is my life now, you thought as you looked around. The ocean they’d put you in was practically barren and you could feel the sting of the tears in your eyes despite the fact that you were underwater. I’m stuck down here forever, and they’ll abandon me as soon as they realize I’m useless to them. I’ll never see Dean again after this.

The feeling of a hand clasping around your wrist and pulling your upwards surprised you, and you quickly yanked it from their grasp, twisting and shifting your body weight so your tail hit them as hard with as much force as possible. You heard a muffled yelp, and by the time you turned around, Dean was already swimming towards the surface. Guilt formed like a rock sinking to the bottom of your stomach as you followed him.

“What the hell?” he coughed, trying to grab onto the smooth side of the boat as he forced the water out of his windpipe.

Silently, you swam over and pulled him into your arms, giving him something to hold onto as he recovered. Once he’d stopped coughing, you carefully swam with him to the other side of the boat, returning him to his spot at the ladder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even think that it’d be you who grabbed me.”

“It’s fine,” Dean said as he shifted his grip on the slippery metal rungs. “I didn’t think you’d react like that.”

You nodded slightly, not meeting his eyes. Instead, you looked back at the horizon, now painted in shades of rose and gold as the sun began to set.

“Y/N, look at me,” Dean urged, and you silently turned so you were facing him again. You could feel the sadness on your face and the familiar feeling of tears threatening to form greeted you at the sight of his own sad expression.

“This doesn’t mean that your life is over. We’re gonna find something,” Dean promised.

You gave him a weak, miserable smile. “You don’t have to try and make me feel better by making promises you can’t keep,” you answered, ignoring the way your voice wobbled. “This is gonna be my life from now on, so I might as well enjoy my time with you while it lasts.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Dean. Don’t act like you’re gonna come all the way out here to hang out with me after the curse becomes permanent. I’m not stupid.”

“Hang on a second,” Dean replied, his eyebrows furrowing as he let go of the ladder, swimming over to where you were bobbing up and down in the water. “Is that what you really think? You think I’m just gonna abandon you because you turned into a mermaid? Y/N, you’re my best friend and I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. I’m not gonna just… leave. I’d rather die.”

Surprised, you stared at him before ducking under the waves again, giving yourself a moment to process what he’d said. Before you could even think it through once, however, Dean was grabbing your arms and pulling you back up to the water’s surface.

“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. That was a lot to put on you all at once,” he apologized, and you shook your head in response, still at a loss for words.

“No, it’s… It’s fine, Dean. I just… Did you mean it?”

“That I love you?” You nodded in response and Dean nodded back at you, licking his lips before saying, “Yeah, I did.”

He started to ramble about pretending he’d never said it, but you quickly tuned out his words and swam closer to him, pressing your palms flat against his chest.

“Dean,” you chuckled, and he stopped talking, meeting your eyes. “I love you too. I just never said anything because I figured you could never love me as more than a sister or a friend.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t have the kinds of dreams about my friends and family that I have about you.”

You grimaced, trying to hide the laugh that threatened to escape. “Didn’t need to know that.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean gave you a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I just… don’t know what to say. I never thought I’d hear you say that about me. I’ve had this conversation a million times, but your response wasn’t anything like what I could’ve made up in my head.”

“You’re one of the greatest guys I know,” you said with a smile as you slid your hands up his chest and around the back of his neck. “How could I not reply like this? I’d be crazy not to love you, Dean Winchester.”

His grin was more delighted than anything now, and you couldn’t help but notice the pink flush of Dean’s cheeks as he asked, “Does that mean I can kiss you now without it being creepy?”

You laughed and let yourself sink lower in the water for a moment so that your gills could get you the oxygen you needed from the saltwater around you. “Yes, Dean,” you chuckled. “It does.”

Dean’s smile remained as you lifted yourself closer to him once more, pressing your chest against his and letting your noses bump together before your lips touched. His legs bumped against your tail and you shivered, the feeling unlike anything before. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hands moved to your waist, pulling you even closer as his lips tucked against yours. You could taste the saltwater on his lips and, when added to the feeling of him kissing you, it was like being in heaven.

When he finally pulled away, Dean looked as dazed as you felt. You chuckled and moved one hand to rest on his cheek, using your thumb to swipe away a water droplet rolling over his freckled skin. Before you could say anything, however, a tugging sensation made you lurch away from him.

“Y/N?” he asked, his smile gone and replaced with a confused, concerned frown.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as the tugging sensation came again and you let out a frightened whimper. “Dean, something’s wrong. Something’s not right.”

Dean searched your face before looking down at your tail, his eyes growing wide. Confused, you followed his gaze. Your tail—your legs—were shrouded in golden light, shimmering beneath the water’s dark surface. The sun was fully set and the light was bright enough that you had to squint in order to look at it. It finally faded away and you immediately began to sink, the sudden feeling of your bare legs beneath you jarring after swimming with the mermaid tail for so long.

“Whoa, hey!” Dean reached out and grabbed your arm, keeping you from getting a mouthful of water.

You gasped and nodded at him thankfully, trying to get your bearings about you. “It’s gone!” you finally cried, swallowing thickly as you tried to keep your head above water. “I have legs again!”

He grinned and nodded as you began to smile. “Guess all you needed was true love’s kiss, huh?” Dean joked.

Rolling your eyes, you felt your cheeks grow warm as you let Dean guide you to the boat’s ladder. You were just about to climb up when you realized that you weren’t wearing anything beside the shirt, and you quickly backed away from Dean, keeping one hand on the side of the yacht as you treaded water a few feet away from him.

“Y/N?”

“I’m not wearing pants, Dean,” you told him, and his eyes quickly flicked down to look before returning to your face. “Don’t look!” You smacked the water, splashing him a little.

“It’s pitch black out here, Y/N! I didn’t see anything. Besides, it’s not like you’re not wearing underwear.” When you didn’t reply, Dean hesitated and then asked, “You are wearing underwear... right?”

You didn’t answer and Dean mumbled a curse under his breath, climbing up the ladder and into the boat.

“Where are you going?” you called up after him. “Dean!”

“I saw a dresser earlier when I was looking around this thing! I’m gonna see if there’s clothes in there,” he answered after you called his name for a second time.

“Okay, well, hurry up! It’s getting cold now and I don’t really like being down here by myself…”

He didn’t reply and you waited in silence, listening hard for any noise of his return. Finally, you heard him ask,

“You alright down there?”

“Define alright,” you answered. “Did you find me clothes?”

“Yep. Climb on up and I’ll give you a towel to wrap around yourself before you go get dressed. I put the clothes in the little bathroom for you.”

Relieved, you started the ascent up the ladder, your legs shaky beneath you as you tried to keep your balance on the slippery rungs, all while the boat swayed and rocked on the waves. You were a mess by the time you reached the top, and you quickly wrapped the towel around yourself, shivering in the night air.

“Thanks,” you chattered.

Dean was silhouetted by a light in the boat’s cabin, but you saw him nod regardless of the darkness around you. “Go get dressed, kid. I’m gonna call Sam and then we can head home so you can get a good night’s rest.”

You nodded and started to walk in the direction of the cabin, then paused and looked back at him. “Dean?” He hummed softly and lifted his head from where he was bent over picking up his clothes. “Are you gonna tell Sam about us kissing?”

“Do you not want me to?”

“No, I just… I don’t know. It’d be nice to have it be just us for a while before anyone else gets involved. That is, I mean, if you want to date me or something,” you quickly added. “If this was just a one-time thing—”

He cut you off before you could get any further on that thought. “It wasn’t. At least, it’s not if you don’t want it to be.”

“I don’t.”

“Me neither.” Dean paused and you fiddled with the top edge of the towel, pulling it tighter around yourself. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you out to dinner before we head back to the bunker.”

You smiled to yourself, ducking your head despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. “I’d like that a lot,” you replied.

If you’d been able to see through the darkness, you would’ve seen that Dean was smiling, too. The boat was silent for a moment before Dean cleared his throat again. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna call Sam now. Maybe I can convince him to go see a movie at that old theater he wouldn’t stop talking about on our way into town.”

You chuckled at that, remembering the way Sam hadn’t been able to shut up the whole way through the city. “Okay,” you began as you started to turn back towards the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a bit, and then maybe later tonight I’ll take you up on that dinner.”

“Maybe afterwards we can kiss again?” Dean asked in reply, his voice hopeful.

You grinned wider and began walked back to the bathroom, calling over your shoulder, “We’ll see, cowboy, we’ll see.”

_______________

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