#and yeah maybe mers have a general thing about not eating other mers

[emry-stars-art]

Okay listen. When I decided to give squid Jean (squean) bite marks/scars last year I was just making it make sense that he lived with a pod of orcas who thought it was super fun to scare him and threaten him, I didn’t know tsc would come out and make that detail somehow 100x worse

Someone get this kid to Whalemack and Abby stat :( thank you Renee

Find the mer aus masterpost here

[morgana-ren]

Come Down to the Black Sea III

Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent.

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: Siren!Shigaraki, graphic depictions of violence, heavy sexual innuendo, implied noncon, foul language, sexual tension you can cut with a knife, and just general sexual grossness. Joking daddy kink also, if you count that. 

PART I, PART II

Here you go! The third installment. Your seafaring friend finds your hot button and decides to plant some lovely ideas in your brain. Listening to them probably is not the smartest idea in regards to keeping your heart beating, but it certainly gets your thighs clenching. 

Taglist: @lemonzoey​, @babayaga67​

You know, it's really rough to explain to your superiors at work why you're so distracted when it happens to be because a mythical being is giving you the cold shoulder. 

You’re not entirely certain why it bothers you so much that your last encounter with him ended rather sour. He had made it perfectly plain from the get-go that his intent with you was far from pure. Murderous, in fact. He had almost drowned you on your first meeting and insulted you incessantly during your second. Not exactly a friendly track record. 

Regardless, he’s made a permanent home crawling beneath your human skin, like some itch you can’t scratch away. You can try to justify it however you’d like, but you can’t ignore the truth. In a word full of mundane existence, you’ve found an oddity and as much as you’d like to pretend you aren’t, you’re drawn to it. It’s part of why you returned to the beach despite the clear and present danger. You’d found a living, breathing mermaid. Even more impressive, you’d managed to piss him off.

Mermaid? Is that accurate? He’s so sensitive to being classified wrongly, but still never told you what he was. Considering the circumstances, maybe you should be a little bit more concerned about other things rather than offending him, but it still bothers you. 

Your ignorance isn’t due to lack of trying. You’ve done extensive research in the spare moments you have during the day, but nothing quite matches his description no matter how deeply you delve into the weirder parts of the internet, even going so far as to browse around on conspiracy sites on the darknet. Mermaid? Merman? Siren? Fish-guy? Some distantly related offspring to that Ripley’s Believe it or Not monkey fish? Relentless searching proved fruitless. Plenty of old sun-crazed fishermen claim to have seen merfolk in the waters or sirens on the rocks, but more often than not, it was a walrus or stage 4 sea madness. No one had a legitimate account of meeting with a real, intelligent creature of the deep. Nothing that came remotely close to him, anyway.

Despite being unable to focus at your job, getting home only doubles the anxiety. Restlessly sitting and twitching on the sofa, repeatedly trying and failing to read or watch some vapid TV show. You’re unable to keep your mind from returning to the ocean, to him no matter how hard you try. 

Over the course of time, you become acutely aware that staying home clearly isn't an option, but you're not really sure what to say to him if you see him again. Why do you even care? Aren't you supposed to be ignoring him? You can excuse your obsessive thoughts about him since most people would have the same reaction to seeing something supernatural not once, but twice in front of their very eyes, but a lot of people wouldn’t continuously return to see it especially if it was malevolent. 

You love that preemptively planning what to say to a sentient supernatural sea dweller is a part of your day. That's awesome. Can't look that one up on google. 

You’ll compromise with your compulsiveness instead. Go a little early and watch the sun set down over the horizon instead of watching the moon rise. Most parents won't allow their children near your rock because it’s slippery and dangerous, and frankly, you don't think he'll show up when others can see him. He’s deadly, but a mob of terrified parents and curious beach goers has few rivals. 

Maybe you can get your fill before he appears. It's better to keep away from him anyway. He wants you dead. 

He wants you dead, you remind yourself.

And so you do. Tread the sandy trail down to your favorite little hideyhole and plop down on the hard surface. You kick your feet absentmindedly on the rock beneath you, watching the small particles of sand splay and regather with every motion of your foot. The crash of the waves, still tumultuous and ornery, slap the side of your makeshift perch and splash you with speckles of water every few moments. You don't mind. You needed to shower anyway.

You can't help but feel a bit more lonely than normal, even surrounded by so many more people than you usually are. Flustered moms urge their children in from the shore to wipe them down with towels and flighty young twentysomethings hoot and holler, laughing loudly as they pile into their cars to find their next big spot for the night. The moon rises and the beach empties, leaving you alone again. The ocean settles, and even though it feels better, you feel alone.

You close your eyes, resting your head sideways on your knees with your arms buckled around your legs. You're close to the edge, precariously so. You just want to be close to the water. You should move back.

In. out. in. out. in. out. in. out.

The waves seem to move in line with the beating of your own heart, a tranquil feeling that dulls your restless thoughts and engulfs you in quiet solace. The hum of the ocean resonating deep within you with each breath you take of the briny air.

You're aware enough to recognize that the sound of the sea is luring you into a false sense of comfort. The darkness seeping over the horizon doesn't make it easier, and soon your slowly wandering mind is on the brink of unconsciousness. You're dangerously close to falling asleep, and given the circumstances, that probably isn't the best idea, especially since you're precariously close to the water. 

You can't help it, it's been one hell of a week. You haven’t slept. Haven’t relaxed. Haven’t felt at home in so long...

Listen, there's no guide online to look at that can help you through what to do when a malevolent fish-man hybrid has decided he wants to drown you. You can imagine it would say something along the lines of 'Stop going near the water then, dumbass' but that's like asking a religious person to stay away from church. It's the one place where you feel any semblance of peace, and you'll be damned if you're going to let the moonlight water marauder take that from you. 

Still, it makes things in your life exponentially more difficult when you can't explain to anyone what's on your mind. 

'Yeah, I met a mer...thing, and he's decided that he hates me and he wants to drown me, and that makes me sad. The one supernatural creature I get to meet and he doesn't like me. Bummer.'

They'd probably have you committed. That’s a bit much even for your eccentric proclivities. 

Your body occasionally jerks you awake, probably its way of saying 'You cannot sleep when there are enemies nearby', but it feels like it's been weeks since you've had a decent night's sleep. The endless procession of days marked by existential crisis with the tacked on bonus of being aware of the existence of a nefarious fairy tale creature makes everything feel awfully surreal. It feels as if you've been running on pure adrenaline and are about to crash. Hard.

If you were smart, you'd go home and try to bank on the feeling of sleepiness currently plaguing you, but you just can't bring yourself to move. Even barring the flaxen haired fish dude just chomping at the bit to drag you under, napping this close to the sea is a bad idea in general. Tides change rapidly and all it would take is a few minutes of you being unaware for the waves to snag you and haul you off to a watery grave. They'd probably never find you, just like the others who disappear here at night. 

But that's probably his doing, isn't it?

What does he do with the bodies exactly?

You really wish he wasn't trying to kill you, cause you have an endless list of questions you'd like to ask. What does he eat? Where does he live? Does he sleep at all?

Musing on all the things you'd like to know about him and his life leads you into fantasizing about being a talk show host interviewing him, and one thing leads to another and before you know it, you're conked out cold. You've managed to find an extremely awkward position to slump into, but even the horrid crick in your neck isn't enough to shake you from the dreamless slumber. Your body doesn't even have the energy needed to produce a dream, so instead, you just float through an endless void.

It could have been minutes, or even hours, really. You're not sure. The only thing strong enough to jar you awake is a sudden and intense feeling of dread that blooms in your stomach and gives you a form and sentience again. Your eyes snap open instinctively, and you're greeted with a pair of spiteful red eyes far too close to you for comfort.

"Jumping jesus-!" 

Surprised is a nice word for what you feel, an ugly screech emanating from your throat as you kick out your feet, knocking yourself over and almost falling in the water in the process. You hit your head nice and hard on a particularly jagged portion of the rocks, and by the time your vision undoubles, the danger is just barely settling in. 

Except danger is too busy cackling to be a threat.

You try to grapple with the panic in your chest and get a grasp on reality again after your literal rude awakening, but it's a bit rough when the sadistic jackass who perpetuated it in the first place won't stop laughing. Apparently he's too amused to take the opportunity to seize you, so you take the moment to scoot much further back and out of his reach, resisting the urge to plant your foot right on his stupid face.

Eventually he quiets down, but the grin never leaves his face. Much like everything about him, it's hostile somehow, mocking and disingenuous. 

"Humans really are so stupid."

"Joke is on you, tunabreath. You wasted the perfect opportunity to actually grab me." 

He shakes his head, tutting you. "I couldn’t resist. We like to play with our food too, sometimes. Scared ones taste better."

Is he implying he eats people? Okay, you know what? You don't wanna know. You doubt he'd be honest about it anyway, and would probably say whatever unnerves you the most. He seems a prick like that.

"I thought the entire point was to drown me and get it over with. You’re borderline obsessed with it."

He scoffs, little head fins twitching as he waves you off. "If I’m going to waste my time, don't make it so easy. It's less fun."

Okay cool, this is all a game to him; your life is a game to him. Nice. Fun. Great. 

Something on your face must have given away your ire, because he simpers at you and another raspy laugh bubbles in his chest. 

"It's not my fault you're stupid. You're the idiot sleeping next to the ocean when you know what's waiting for you when you get too close. It’s like you want me to devour you." 

"I thought after your little tantrum last night, you were gone for good. You really can throw a fantastic hissy fit."

That wipes the smile from his face.

“Little brat.” He taps a claw on the rock, narrowing his eyes at you. “Tough talk from someone afraid of getting a little wet.” He drags out the final word with a mocking tone, clicking his tongue against his fangs with the final syllable.

“For the last time, I’m not afraid of getting wet-” It takes it a second to sink in but wow this all sounds so wrong. Your face darkens and a familiar tingle worms itself in your gut. Are you really that lonely? “And don’t say it like that!”

His brows furrow and he studies you with a slightly quizzical expression. “Like what?” 

How do you explain to a dude who presumably has no cock and no human sexual experience about the sexual insinuations of human expressions? Wow. This is not a talk you thought you’d be having. The entire situation is weird, but this really sets the bar. 

“I know you’re probably not familiar with it, but that sounds... weird. It just sounds weird, okay?” 

“I don’t understand.” His lips curl downward in annoyance, arching a pale brow in your direction. 

“Look, when a human and another human... do stuff, things happen to their bodies and-“ a twisted sense of shame curdles your stomach and you go to scratch the back of your head, avoiding his eyes. Your words trail off somewhere mid sentence. If you were looking, you could practically see the gears turning in his head, but a few seconds later, his face pops in realization. 

“I’m fully aware of your human mating habits.”

“Don’t say it like that either! Jesus, you’re so awkward.”

A slow smile spreads over his face and he leans closer to you, tail swishing in a steady rhythm beneath the water. “Why? You’re over the ‘age of consent’, as it’s put, right? A sexually mature human female? Does it make you uncomfortable when I say things like that? Or does it make you something else?” 

He trails his claws in a walking motion towards your out of reach leg, and embarrassment isn’t a strong enough word for the emotion that colors your face as you recoil from his wandering fingers. “Knock it off!”

“Has it been a while since someone touched you, little human?”

“None of your business! You’re such a creep! And what do you know about it anyway? Don’t you fuckin’ lay eggs or something?”

He ignores your pointed jab, licking at his chapped lips as he runs his piercing eyes over you a bit too invasively for your liking. “You wanna know, huh? I can show you.” He reaches towards you again and you wiggle back a few more inches, caught between his words and the friction igniting feelings you’re desperately trying to ignore between your thighs.

“I’m getting mixed signals here. Are you trying to drown me or fuck me?” 

“Who says I can’t do both?” He tilts his head, gaze lingering on your lips before drifting down to your chest without shame. His attention still feels utterly predatory, but for a different form of predator entirely. “Your death doesn’t have to be entirely painful, you know.” 

“S-stop it.” 

He’s giving you whiplash with his intense mood swings, but you can’t deny the less than appropriate places his words drag your mind to. Heat ignites inside you, warmth spreading through your navel as your cheeks burn deeper than they did before. You will it away, trying to shake loose the thoughts from your mind. No fucking way are you even considering this.

“Look, even if our bodies were compatible, which they aren’t, it’s not like you wanting to kill me is a turn on.” 

He gives you another lilting grin, flicking his tongue and hissing in a foreign laugh. “Are you sure? I know that some of your kind are into that sort of thing. Hard. Rough. Dangerous. And judging by your face-“ 

Another bout of blood colors your cheeks so intensely that you can literally feel it. Oh God, make it stop. 

“-You might be.” 

“Shut it, shark bait!” 

“And who’s to say we’re not compatible? I know plenty. Something about the beach is an aphrodisiac to you humans. Not to mention~” Another grin, but this one gives off the undeniable air of ‘I know something you don’t know.’ “You have no idea what I can do.”

You can’t help but look back at him as he says it and you can tell he means every word. The unnatural scarlet glow of his eyes seems far too welcoming, calling to you like some sort of beacon in the darkness. The soft gleam of his silvery hair in the moonlight far too inviting. You want to touch it, wonder what it would feel like entwined between your fingers, what it smells like and how those claws would feel like scratching against the sensitive skin of your ass as he holds you steady against his hips.

You bet those fangs aren’t just for show, and judging by his attitude, he’s probably not afraid to use them. You bet they’d feel all sorts of nice scraping and digging into your flesh, biting you and licking that thick tongue up and over your neck, maybe even a bit lower if you asked him nicely. He’s so lithe, so strong, he’d have no problem fucking you against the rock even with the water resistance. His slick skin rubbing against yours, webbed hands squeezing your waist, kneading your tits, pressing the rounds of your neck until you gave yourself over to him completely and the taste of him is the last thing you ever knew.

Okay, you admit it. You are really curious to see just what it is he can do. You’d probably be the first human in history to find out, the first girl to be fucked to literal death by a siren. Would it really be such a terrible way to die? Being dragged under metaphorically and physically and spending your last moments in pleasure wholly unknown to the moral realm?

He smiles softly, watching you toss it around in your mind as he cradles his head in his palm. He’s beautiful, and you loathe it. You hate that you’re even considering this, even toying with the thought as if it’s really an option. What the hell are you doing? This is complete madness!

“You aren’t serious, are you?” 

He gestures you forward seductively, nibbling gently on his scarred bottom lip, keeping your eyes squarely trained on his mouth. “Come a little closer and find out. I promise I bite. Extra hard if you beg.”

Another clench between your legs. Shake it loose, shake it loose! “Look, even if I believed for a split second you wanted to seduce me, you really think I’m going to literally die for the chance?”

“What else are you going to die for?” 

Oddly deep. Not a thought you wanted to ponder right now. Expertly deflect it with sarcasm and ignore the fact that he has a very good point.

“Of old age, in my bed, surrounded by loved ones and piles of money I didn’t get the chance to spend yet.” 

He scoffs, blowing air through his nose. “Sure.”

“Just what is that supposed to mean?” 

He shrugs, shucking aside your irritation. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” 

“Prick.” 

He giggles, finding your crass human mouth oddly endearing. “Well, the offer stands. I told you I’m not going anywhere until you're under the water with me.” He pauses, considering you for a moment before grinning darkly. “I might just do it anyway, but it’s better if you’re willing. Not that I’ve ever been averse to a little struggle.”

“What?”

“It’s hard to say no when you can’t speak. I could easily bypass this little game of playing hard to get, but I want to see you squirm.” He eyes between your legs and you pray to the Gods that he thinks the dampness residing there is because of the watery environment. “I want to see you beg before the light goes out in those pretty eyes.”

“You’re a fucking perv!”

“I told you I’m going to watch you drown, you really put it past me to not take other forms of satisfaction from you while I’m at it?”

He presents a good point. You resent the fact that you don’t entirely feel repulsed by the thought. You should. You should be mortified and terrified and other words that end in ‘fied’. You should run and never come back. You know you should. 

You lean forward. 

“I’d like to see you try, fish boy.” 

A strangely genuine smile spreads across his lips and his face seems to light up at your words. It's still menacing, but oddly cute; like a child getting ready and excited to play their favorite game. 

"You really think you can win this, huh?" He muses, looking up at you through those pale lashes. "You sure are something, little girl." 

"What do I have to lose? If you win, you kill me, and whatever else, but I won't care, because I'll be dead. If I win, I get to see that arrogant smarminess wiped off your face when you don't get what you want. You'll have wasted all this time for nothing, and I guess that's a small consolation prize alongside my life."

“Time means nothing to me, but if it makes you feel better about the situation.”

From the way he says it, you don't deny it. It dawns on you that you really know nothing about his people. Do they age like you? Do they age at all? 

“How old are you?” 

"Older than you by far, I promise. What a rude question. How old are you?" 

“Old enough. But that doesn’t answer my question. Don’t deflect.”

"No manners, you humans." He ponders it for a minute. "You count the passing of time in revolutions around the sun, right? I'd bet I had been an adult for a very long time while you were still learning to walk on wobbly little legs." 

It's your turn to laugh now, and he doesn't seem amused. "You're an old man! Ew! You're an interspecies cradle robber!"

"I'm not old! We live exponentially longer than you! I'll still be in my prime when you're an elder!" His pallid face is dusted slightly red in frustration, and it's almost funnier than his reaction. 

"Whatever you say, grandpa! Do you have an undersea walker? Drink sea prune juice? Is that why your hair is silver? Cause you're old?"

Self consciously, he strokes the front of his long bangs between his fingers. "No! You're an immature little brat!" 

"Back in my day~" You barely dodge a swipe from one of his claws as he jumps as far forward as he can and swings at you. "Careful gramps, you don't wanna hurt yourself. You’ll break a hip or whatever it is you have."

He sneers at you and you bask in the minor victory.

You sit in silence; him with a scowl tightly pulled across his thin lips, and you with a smug little grin. So it’s not impossible to get under his scales. 

He’s a world class pouter, you’ll give him that. He doesn’t strike you as vain, but this is probably uncharted territory for him; actually talking to a human and subsequently being made fun of for his age. He’s probably not used to being mocked in any sense of the word, seeing as he’s a ‘non existent’ mythical creature. Maybe his kind are prideful, if a little childish. He claims to have existed for ages, but he still has the mannerisms you’d attribute to a male around your age. Maybe a tad immature and explosive himself. You guess some things don’t change with the species. Aggression, domination, and sex. And murder, in his case. 

Some things are universal, it seems. 

He’s making a show of ignoring you now, clicking his claws together in a subconscious attempt to threaten you. They are awfully sharp. You swear looking at them makes the gashes on your arm start to ache all over again. Occasionally the fins on the side of his head twitch in an almost catlike manner, turning toward whatever source of sound can be heard. It’s so strange to you, you can’t help but stare. He looks ethereal, even as impudent as he’s acting. With the backdrop of the ocean and the moon behind him, he looks like a painting that belongs in a gallery. You can’t stop yourself from leering at him.

You’re trying to ignore the fact that he definitely takes notice. 

He's angry at you, displeasure still slightly evident in his face, but a small smile crooks his lips. You've clearly offended him but your leering goes a little way towards soothing the hairs you've rubbed the wrong way. For whatever reason, knowing you find him attractive puffs his feathers- er, scales- with pride. Body language relaxes between the two of you and a few minutes of quiet follows. 

Yet, it's difficult to keep a pleasant silence when the company you keep is far from familiar. This isn't two friends relaxing on a beach; at least unless most friends are malevolent ocean dwelling creatures with an end goal of filling the other's lung with sea water. 

The lack of noise makes you antsy, almost like you're anticipating something but you're unsure of what. It feels false somehow, like you're trying to turn this isn't something it isn't; comfortable. No matter how his casual demeanor tries to lull you into a false sense of security, you have to remain vigilant. One little slip and he'll drag you into a watery grave- among other things if he was serious. 

“So… What do you eat?”

He slow blinks at you a few times before grinning, light glinting off his all-too-sharp fangs. “You mean besides you?”

There’s multiple implications to that, neither one of which you want to ponder for various reasons. Your panties are already uncomfortably damp.

“Yes. Besides us.”

Shrugging, he flicks at a small pebble on the rocks edge and plunks it into the water. "Same thing you would if you were one of us. There's plenty of fish down here, only difference is I can eat them raw." 

Your nose crumples and you stick your tongue out slightly, imagining him taking a bite out of a still-twitching fish. "Ew."

He rolls his eyes, brushing your obvious disgust aside. "If I recall, don't you humans have multiple dishes you eat raw?"

"Well, I mean, yeah, but it's different. We actually prepare it."

"Sounds like a whole lot of fuss over nothing. Your weak stomach just can't handle it and mine can, and you seem to find that to be some sort of bragging point. Also, don't you humans have a tendency to put things in your mouth that don't belong there?" 

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up about that?” 

"I don't know, I'd say the occasional raw fish is a lot less dirty than a human male c-"

“Oh my god! I am so sorry I fucking asked!”

He cackles loudly and you realize that he's officially found your hot button. Even worse is he knows it. "I mean that's not to say we don't have our own filthy habits, but you guys are inspiring-"

"Dude! Make like a tunafish and can it! I don't want to hear any of this!"

"Oh? Is that so? Because around 10 minutes ago, you were half ready to rip your clothes off and jump in here and let me try you even if it meant your death."

"Momentary lapse in judgement. Don't get too excited, grandpa." 

He frowns again but seems less offended now that the initial moment had passed. "If you insist upon calling me a nickname pertaining to my age, I'd prefer daddy."

All humor drops from your face. How the fuck does he even know about that? 

As if he can read your mind, he responds. "A lot of you humans like to reproduce here. I've seen quite a bit and heard even more. Like I said, you’re absolutely filthy creatures.” 

“Ah. Yeah. That makes sense.”

“My offer stands. Come a little closer and I’ll show you just what I learned.”

“Creep.”

“That makes two of us, now doesn’t it?”

"I'm not the one bringing up sex every 3 seconds."

Hey, do you know how awkward it is to be having this conversation? With him? Right now? Do you know how utterly surreal this is?

“No, but you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks burn and you know it doesn't matter what you say. Your face is a dead giveaway. He knows it too, crossing his arm and arching a cocky brow at you. 

“And I’m the pervert, huh?”

You wrap your arms around your legs again in a subconscious show of defense. "Yes, you are. This is a natural response to embarrassing topics. Topics you keep coming back to." 

He shrugs again, his head fins twitching a few times. "I don't deny my nature. If I feel lustful, I act on it. Another reason you humans are inferior. You deny what comes naturally in the name of some form of... shame, is it? I have no bonds holding me back, while yours are pointless and dictated by some invisible and shallow form of ‘morality’ and ‘purity." 

He’s… technically right. Still.

"You realize you're saying this to the person you're trying to kill, right?" 

"I'm aware. Consider it a parting gift. You can feel what it's like to be untethered before I end you."

You roll your eyes so deeply that you’re almost certain you’ve detached the retina. “Oh, how very kind of you. So thoughtful.” 

"It’s not entirely altruistic, but it's better than I was originally planning. I was just going to rip you apart the second I pulled you in. Of course, that was before I got a good look at you. It'd be a shame to waste such a pretty thing without getting a taste first.”

It's a twisted compliment, but you appreciate it, at least as much as the circumstances allow. 

“Thanks…  I think?” 

"It's a good thing, I promise. I won't just touch anyone, you know. Most of your kind repulses me. I'm not an easy please." 

"Oh." Another awkward silence. "What makes me so special, anyways?"

His face blanks over, eyes hardening and mouth pursing in a tight line. He opens his lips a few times to speak, but seemingly stops himself. His expression flashes confusion, then rage, then apathy in quick succession. "I don't know. It won't matter for long anyways, soon you'll be dead and I can move on." 

“Not if I win.”

"You won't. I don't lose. Besides, I've already almost gotten you twice. It's only a matter of time before you slip up again, and I'll be there to catch you when you do."

"Put it like that and it almost sounds sweet." A smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. 

His face flushes and he looks away from you, expression contorting. “It’s not. Don’t twist my words.” 

“Spoilsport. Go eat a mackerel or something. You’re not yourself when you’re hungry. Or maybe you are. Either way, you’re cranky.”

"It's hard not to be cranky when there's a meal right in front of me and I can't indulge."

"Quit threatening to eat me. I get the point, it's just weird.”

His thick tongue flicks out and runs across those glimmering teeth and he just smiles. "Who said anything about eating?" 

“Give it a rest.”

He swipes a small amount of water at you with his thumb and forefinger. "Deny it all you'd like, you enjoy the attention." 

"Definitely. I love being the first human to be hit on by the world's first mermaid fuckboy."

A hybrid mix of a groan and a growl rumbles from his chest. "I'm not a fucking mermaid!" 

"Oh, sorry!" The sarcasm is palpable, and he scowls at you again. You love the fact he doesn't deny the secondary insult. "I meant merman." 

"Don't insult me. As if your petty, unimaginative fairytales could even come close." 

"You have a tail, you live underwater, and you're half human. Sounds pretty damn close to me." 

The look on his face is as if you just forced him to swallow something extraordinarily disgusting. "You have no idea what I'm capable of. And I'm not half human. You're half us."

Now that takes you off guard. 

“What did you say? What do you mean?”

"It doesn't matter." He pushes himself away from the rocks, his tail slightly flapping above the surface. "Besides, you were right. I am hungry. I should probably find something to eat for tonight, unless you’ve changed your mind." He doesn’t bother waiting for you to retort before skillfully diving down back beneath the waves.

You want to stop him, but he’s gone before you can think of a creative way to say ‘hell no’. The slight dash of silver hair makes out towards the horizon and before long, he's gone. As always, he leaves you feeling more frustrated than anything. 

You want to stay, to enjoy the ocean like you used to before he barged his way into your life, but it all just feels too strange now. He won't return tonight, you know that much. 

Heaving yourself off your asleep butt, you begin your bowlegged walk back to civilization, left with nothing but the ache of a cramp in your hips and a strangely heavy feeling in your gut.

[landtoseasshifter]

I used to be in a mermaid pod right? Yeah well the problem with most pods is that everyone wants to make one but don't realize how hard it is to maintain. That and the fact that commited Mermaid shifters are rare nowadays, and when they're were more they were misinformed. From personal experience, the pods that have been started and the ones I've been in were made by kids who just realized they wanted to be a mer because they watched h20. Well anyway since the past pods I've been in didn't appreciate me or my info (not including the alliance @midnightflamealliance I'm currently in, I've been there a few days but they really make me feel welcome! Love them to death) I'm just gonna share some info I have gathered about Mers.

Open Ocean mermaids are built for travel and long distance swimming. They live all over, because they can live in almost any moderate temperature. Their tails are usually some shade of blue, to blend in with the water around them.

Appearance:

     An Open Ocean mermaid's appearance depends on their surroundings, just like any animal. This specific mermaid type dwells in, as the name suggests, the open ocean. This means they wont be around one specific area, which is why the best tail for them are shades of blue, purple, or a sea green, and countershading to help keep it more camouflaged while swimming.

This type of mermaid can stay both near the surface and farther below, so the tone of their skin varies depending on how much sun their skin is exposed to.

     Since they are open ocean mermaids, they will need wide flukes for power. Although they do not usually travel out of their region, they do travel in it, which is why they need a tail that allows them for travel.Because they swim in both shallow and deeper water, they can have gills or lungs. With lungs, you can spend 5-15 minutes at a time underwater, and with gills you dont have to come up for air.

     Webbed hands are very important for open ocean mermaids. They help propel them foward and can even help with camouflage.Nails are also very important! A lot of open ocean mermaids hunt fish or other aquatic animals, and their long nails help them capture and even (maybe) cut open their prey. Imagine a mermaid's nails like a wolve's claws: An important part for survival, providing both protection and a hunting tool.

Overall their appearance would include:

Larger fluke

- Blue, green, or purple tail

-Counterdshading

-webbes hands

-long nails

- gills or lungs

-varying skin tones

Habitat:

     An Open Ocean's Habitat is stated in their title, the open ocean. Since they have such a general habitat, they tend to stay in moderate temperature water. This can range anywhere from 80F to 60F, but even some tropical waters can drop down in the low 40's (F). This means they have to migrate to different areas in their region to stay alive.

Some places they can live are:

- Atlantic Ocean (40 F- 86 F, 5C-30C)

-Pacific Ocean ( 68 F, 20C)

- Caribbean (37 F- 80 F, 2.7C-26C)

- Indian Ocean ( 70 F, 21C)

This is pretty general and non-specific. but I can be more specific on places they tend to avoid. Open ocean mermaids tend to stay away from cold areas, and while they try to stay away from hot climates, it is easier to survive there.

Open ocean mermaids stay in the Epipelagic zone and Mesopelagic zone ( 0m-3,300m), almost never traveling deeper.

Food/Diet

     Open Ocean mermaids have a wide variety of food choices. They tend to be omnivores, because they live basically everywhere, and have access to multiple food sources. They might tend to eat:

Shrimp:

     Shrimp is one of the most common foods for mermaids, found in almost any ocean.

Sea plants;

   Every mermaid has a different taste, so every open ocean mermaid would eat a different variety of plants, but sea plants are everywhere in the ocean and a key part of their diet

Cod:

     Cod is commonly found in the Atlantic ocean, in the deeper areas where the water is cooler. Cod provides protein and phosphorus, which is necessary for all mermaids.

Tuna:

     Tuna fish are found all over and are very common. They have high amounts of potassium and protein, which is great for strength.

Fruit:

     A mermaid probably eats most fruits unless allergic to something, and is found in any store on land.

Squid:

     Squid is found In the north of the oceans (North Atlantic, North Pacific) and the Sea of Japan. They contain high amount of protein, which is needed for mermaids

Crab:

     Crab also contains a good protein amount, and lives in all of the world's oceans, and sometimes in freshwater.

Lobster:

     Lobster is rich in copper and vitamin B12. They live in all oceans, but are found most in rocky or muddy areas.

Behavior/Audience:

     Open ocean mermaids can be with or without a pod, but are usually found with one because many shifters choose open ocean as their mermaid type.

A pod will usually range from 5-50, rarely going above or below. The minimum number for a pod is two as any mermaid type.

     Open ocean mermaids are known to be very determined and loyal. They tend to have dolphin personality traits as well as whale traits. This depends on the individual, some are known to be more predatory and territoral.

Predators:

-Great white shark

-Orca

-Tiger Shark

Two things. One, Even though this wiki has valuable information, you should always do your own research outside of it.

[thiswasinevitableid]

17 chosen and 20 lunar for Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go!

Lieutenants Log, stardate 10015, Joseph Stern recording

We’ve finally arrived at an agreement with the Aquariads, the species who control this moon. They will allow our research team unfettered access to the planet, but at an odd price. They requested one of our crew agree to be married off to a high ranking member of their governing council. 

I suspect, but cannot prove, that this is not a desirable being to be married to. He’s a revered seer, and yet they’re willing to couple him to a human and not one of their own? Suspicious.

Myself and the other single members of the crew were all given extensive questionnaires on everything from our sexual preferences to our daily habits. It took me a good hour and a half to finish it. 

After a full earth day of waiting, we received word that chief astrobotanist Duck Newton was the chosen human. I have no idea how this happened, as Duck has little tolerance for what he views as “woo-woo” things like precognition. But he was chosen all the same. 

Because this is Duck, he grumbled a bit, but cheered up when he learned he would only be required to stay with his new husband for three weeks before joining us on our field word, and that we can send him specimens for identification and research. If we decide Aquaria is the planet we’ve been looking for and establish more permanent research stations here, Duck will be expected to spend at least a few days a month with the seer. Mama made it clear that if the idea was truly not something he could agree to, she would call the deal off and we could try another approach. Duck said that wouldn’t be necessary, and that he could think of far worse things they could have asked of us. 

We deposit him at the seers home tomorrow. After that, we begin our exploration of Aquaria, fourth moon of the plant Oceana and (hopefully) the home of the antidote we’ve been searching for. 

Joseph Stern, Lieutenant on the spaceship Amnesty, signing off.

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

Duck waves to the skiff as it pulls away, his planetside bag slung over his shoulder. There’s only one way to go; down the single stone levee, decorated with beautiful tiles, to the massive mansion at the end. 

It reminds him of the photos of Venice he’s seen in old National Geographics, beautiful buildings floating atop a planet of water. He knows Aquaria has islands, but the majority of it’s cities are on or near the water because most of its residents live beneath the waves. They remind Duck of mermaids, with scaled tails and fins giving way to humanoid upper bodies and faces. As far as creatures to get politically married off to, he could be staring down worse. 

There’s still the problem of not knowing why this mer is off by himself and without a partner. Or, as becomes obvious once Duck is inside, any company at all. The other high-ranking aquariads they’ve met come with miles of attendants; here there’s only the high, curved ceilings and rippling water. Maybe the guy is shy? Or maybe he’s a dick? Or just real fucking scary to look at?

As he walks further into the house, he notices the tiled walls are covered in striking murals that, when coupled with the odd half-light allowed in by the green glass windows, makes him feel as though he’s wandering through a dream. The pools and canals criss-cross the floor, and really the ground is more water than concrete, the fact he’s able to walk at all is a concession to the fact some aquariads evolved to be land dwelling. 

A splash makes him turn, and in the pool to his right a black fin cuts the water. He steels himself to not insult the alien he’s now legally attached to. The figure rises from the water, setting his arms on the edge of the stony floor and Duck steps back as a wide, toothy smile appears in an angular face. 

“Hello, Duck Newton.” His tail is the same black as his fin, and his silver hair is tucked behind ears of the same color, which Duck has learned can fan out as a way of communicating. 

“Uh, hi. You must be-”

“Indrid Cold, yes. Apologies, a peril of my profession is that I will always be a little bit ahead.”

“Right. So, uh, guess we’re gonna be seein a lot of each other the next couple of weeks.” He aims for a joking, nonchalant tone. 

“Yes, as we’re married.” He cocks his head, confused, then grins brighter, “Oh, oh I see, you are attempting levity because this is all very awkward. I, ah, I appreciate that. Here, let me show you where you’ll be staying” Indrid pushes off the wall, swimming gracefully on his back as Duck follows him down the hall. The center of the house has more skylights, allowing him to see that his host’s fins aren’t pure black; small silver and white dots are scattered across it. He wonders if he could find constellations in them.

“Here we are.” Indrid gestures to a room, one where the only water is in the form of two deep blue half-circles on the left and right walls. The center of the room is a large bed, linens gleaming whites and pale greens, and the skylight nestles against a chandelier of finely detailed rosey glass. 

“Holy shit.” Duck sets his bag down on a trunk near the door.

“Do you like it?” A flash of yellow up Indrid’s fin, echoed in the dots on his tail.

“I mean, anythin looks ritzy after months on a spaceship but” he turns, smiles, “yeah, I do. Thanks for giving me such nice digs.”

“You are most welcome. Now, this room is designed to give guests privacy. See that red panel on the wall? If you press it, it opens the pool on that side up to the rest of the house, allowing myself or servants to come in and help you.”

“So you do have staff.”

“They’re, ah, more like errand folk. None live here.” Indrid clears his throat, “I can show you the rest of the house, although if you need to sleep I can let you be. I am, ah, not entirely clear on where your internal clock sits now.”

“Aquaria’s days are about four days longer than earth’s, so I ain’t too thrown off. Happy to see more of the place.”

Indrid nods, and Duck follows him out of the bedroom. Most of the other rooms they pass are sparse squares of walkways and still water, under which lies the parts of the house Indrid uses. When they reach Indrid’s quarters, he spots what looks to be an artists’ studio under the clear blue water. 

“You paint?” He kneels and peers down for a better look, Indrid bobbing nearby. 

“Indeed. Art helps me make sense of my visions, and I enjoy it besides. In fact, all the murals you see in this house are my doing. There are even more under water.”

“Damn, that’s fuckin incredible. If I get my SCUBA gear rigged up, maybe I can get a tour?”

“Scu--oh, yes, an underwater breathing apparatus. We have a much smaller device that can help you breathe and sea down here” he dips his head at the pool, “unfortunately, the one I commissioned for you will not arrive until close to the end of your stay. They, ah, did not give me much time to prepare. Hence the lack of many comforts I might otherwise give, as well as places for you to and I to talk, eat or do, ah, other activities together.” The yellow intermittently flashing up his fin gives way to a burst of pink. 

Oh, right. Duck pulls up his infopad (given a generous waterproofing treatment prior to his leaving Amnesty) and opens the contract he signed. 

“Yeah. About that. Says here they expect us to, uh, ‘consummate’ the marriage.”

“I’m aware” Indrid’s voice creeps up.

“Do you...wanna do that now?” He spins a finger in the water.

“I, ah, I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, seems like we could just get it outta the way, rather than have the fact we gotta fuck someone we didn’t pick hangin over our heads?” 

“This...this is not at all how I wanted this to go.” 

Duck looks up and immediately wishes he could reverse time; Indrid looks genuinely hurt, ears flicked back like a scolded dog. 

“Duck I, ah, well, you did not choose me, that is true. But I chose you.”

“Well, fuck.” He sits down with a heavy sigh, “figured some big wigs used those surveys to pick me out. Guess what they say about assumin things is true.”

“.....”

“It makes an ass outta you and me?”

Indrid blinks, then snickers, “Your humor is part of why I chose you. It is very bad, but also extremely good.”

“Glad you think so. Pretty sure Mama was ready to blow me out the airlock for some of the ones I made on the way here.” He knows he’s dodging the conversation they should be having, but how the fuck is he supposed to respond when an alien mermaid tells him he picked him to be his husband?

Indrid swims over so he can rest his arms and chin on the stone, glancing shyly up at Duck as he says, “I suppose I also made an ass of myself, as you would say, by assuming you would not see this as an obligation.”

“I mean, even if you chose me, don’t this feel like an obligation to you?”

“No. For me, it is a reminder that most of my kind are too afraid of me to even give me a chance to court them. And that the council thinks I will get into too much trouble without someone to distract me now and then, and decides the company I am worthy of is an alien explorer with no interest in me.”

“I mean, the only reason we agreed to this is because there might be a plant on Aquaria that can treat the illness runnin rampant back home. So at least it’s for a good cause?”

Indrid flicks his ears, red running up his fin, “What you are doing is noble. What I am doing is being used as a way to keep your exploration team in line.”

Duck winces, “Fuck, I’m, uh, I’m just gonna stop talkin now.”

For an agonizing five minutes they sit there in silence, contemplating their situation and stealing glances at each other. Duck always tried to do the right thing, tried to live an honest life and treat the people in it with respect. He’s been kind and polite to beings up and down the galaxy. He can extend some of that to his own husband, can’t he?

“Indrid?”

The alien raises his head.

“Can we start over?”

“Yes. But I do not see how-”

Duck holds out his hand, “Name’s Duck. Thanks for invitin me in and lookin after me the few weeks.”

Indrid’s smile widens as he understands the game, and he takes the human’s hand, “A pleasure to meet you. I am Indrid, seer to the court of Aquaria, and your anxious husband in spite of the now-changing, much more pleasant futures.”

They finish their tour, the humid air less stifling in the wake of their confessions. Indrid shows him the kitchen, the sitting room, and the gardens which, to Duck’s delight, are as much above the water as below. 

After that, Indrid excuses himself to attend to seer duties and Duck goes back to his room to unpack. As he’s putting away his toothbrush and razor near a large, elaborate tub carved from golden stone, one of Indrid’s admissions from earlier floats through his mind, bobbing there like a buoy until he gets a chance to ask it.

When they’re in the gardens, Duck taking notes as Indrid dives and surfaces with new things to show him, the human slips his feet into the water and says, “Indrid? You said my offerin to fuck you wasn’t what you wanted. What, uh, what did you want?” 

The alien blinks, slowly, pink and teal flashing in his tail, “It is a bit silly in retrospect, but since I knew we would not have time for a proper human marriage courtship, I thought I could mimic the process leading to a one night stand; that way you would be romanced in a manner that made you both comfortable with me and the concept of sex with a relative stranger.” 

Duck chuckles, “Always wild to find out how human stuff gets interpreted by the rest of the galaxy. How’d you even come up with what you were gonna do?”

Indrid crosses his arms, mock affronted, “I will have you know I have seen a great deal of human media, courtesy of our minister of defense.”

“Oh yeah?” Duck shifts onto his stomach, sends a small splash Indrid’s way, “what was this night gonna involve, then?”

“Food, dim and therefore, apparently, romantic lighting, dancing to sensual music, and then hopefully some kissing.” The pink in his tail intensifies, “and then working out exactly how to have sex human.”

The mixture of enthusiasm and being utterly out of his element charms Duck to no end; not to mention it’s the most thought someone’s put into a hook-up with him in the last three years. 

“Seems to me you got the gist of it. Though I really wanna know what you picked out for ‘sensual music.’”

A playful glint enters Indrid’s glowing eyes, “I will show you, but we must go through the whole evening, otherwise it will seem like a disjointed choice. With, ah, with the understanding that you are not obligated to kiss me at the end.

“You got a deal.”

“Wonderful” Indrid claps his hands together, “wait right here.”

Indrid disappears in a whoosh of black and silver. When he returns, he hoists six opaque domes onto the floor in front of Duck, “I initially planned to eat in the sitting room, but you like this room much better, so we can have dinner here.” With that, he double-taps the top of each dome, revealing a confusing buffet. 

“Uh, are those french fries?”

“Yes. You are from the United States of America, and so I chose foods that would make you feel at home.” Indrid points to each plate in turn, “french fries, steak, a turkey with cranberries, lobster, macaroni with cheese, and an apple pie.”

The pie is covered with an odd, yellow meringue, the turkey is the size of a quail, and the black shell suggests this is not a kind of lobster he’s eaten before, but Duck can’t stop smiling.

“Also I took care to be sure none of the necessary substitutions were poisonous to you.”

“Thanks, Indrid.” He means it; in their travels they’ve learned it’s not only humans who think everyone lives and eats exactly the way they do.

Everything except the french fries tastes strange but he finds the meal, like it’s orchestrator, intriguing in it’s oddity. Indrid brings two cool, white bottles from below, offers Duck tastes of each. One is like the celery soda he drank on a dare, the other like root beer if it wasn’t gross. He keeps the second one next to him as the meal progresses, Indrid asking him all kinds of questions about botany and himself. When dinner is over, Indrid guides him two rooms over, grinning excitedly. 

“I will start the music; one moment.” 

A few seconds after he dives, a chrome cylinder descends from the ceiling and music fills the air.

Ninety-nine red balloons

Floating in the summer sky

Panic bells, it's red alert!

There's something here from somewhere else!

He giggles, sits down so it’s easier to call, “Indrid? Not sure you got the right song bud.”

A silver-haired head pops up, “Not romantic?”

“Nope.”

“Hmmmm” He lifts a small, white rectangle and the song changes. 

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

He's in the army now, a blowin' reveille

He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B

“N-not quite” The laugh is stronger now.

“Drat. How about….”

I threw a wish in the well, don't ask me, I'll never tell

I looked to you as it fell and now you're in my way 

Indrid looks hopefully at him.

“Ain’t what I’d call sensual, but you’d hear it at the kind of place you’d pick up a date.”

The alien beams, starts shifting back and forth to the beat, “shall we dance?”

Duck blushes, pretends he doesn’t know why, “Uh, probably should have said this earlier, but I ain’t much of a dancer.”

Indrid swims to him, stopping close enough that Duck can see the lines on his face that reveal they’re close in age, “That’s alright. Sometimes conversing while having a drink is acceptable behavior, correct?”

“Yeah.” Duck doesn’t bother to hide how intently he’s watching as Indrid dives, his form elegant and ethereal beneath the water. 

They sit sipping a hard cider that tastes of papaya and flowers instead of apples until the three other moons glow bright in the skylight. Duck yawns, and excuses himself for the night. 

“Thanks for a great evenin, Indrid.”

“You are most welcome. A pity I could not make the music work.”

He’s here for another three weeks at least. And Indrid is floating through the darkening water like a dream he’s tempted to chase.

“Guess you’ll just have to try again.” Duck winks. 

Indrid’s ears frill slightly and he flashes bright purple, “Yes, my dear husband, I suppose I will.” 

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

Duck’s routine is not the one he usually has while docked on a planet. Every day for the last week, he wakes up, joins Indrid for a leisurely swim, works on his research, and then spends his evening with a weirdly cute alien trying to accurately recreate the earth dating experience for him. 

The second night, he asked if Indrid would bring him some of his favorites for their next meal. The steamed coconut crab was a hit. The mantis-squid served still swimming, less so. From then on, when Indrid put in his food orders to the cooks at the main court, it was for a mixture of earth and Aquariad dishes, each one leading him or Indrid to share an anecdote from their time on their home planet. 

For the last two nights, he’s lifted the partitions on the pools in his room so Indrid can talk with him until neither of them can keep their eyes open. He wonders if it would be rude to ask him to stay, to sleep in such a small space just so he could be the first thing Duck sees when he wakes up.

There must be floating beds he could put in Indrid’s room, or maybe a hammock he could hang in the garden. 

Duck now understands that Indrid’s powers make him politically valuable, but also mean his fellow residents of the lunar city see him as dangerous, as knowing things they’d rather keep secret. Duck understands, especially if their only time encountering the seer is when he glides his formidable, dark body from the depths of his inner sanctum. But all he can see is his Indrid, awkward and well-meaning, whose fear of Duck disliking him has given way to genuine affection. His Indrid, who now pulls himself up onto the stones so they can sit shoulder to shoulder after breakfast or before dinner, whose tail Duck’s fingers beg to caress. 

His Indrid who is, at this moment, continuing his losing battle with earth music. 

“How about this?”

Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen

Thank you for all the joy and pain

“Oh fuck no” Duck guffaws, “anything but him, ‘Drid, he’s a boner killer if there ever was one.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad,  but I will be speaking to Vincent about his human music suggestions.”

“For the love of god, turn it off.” Duck flails for the remote.

Indrid sticks out his tongue, “Very well, but I am this close to pulling you down here and seeing if you can do any better.”

“You wouldn’t dare” Duck is still laughing, eyes closing as he does, which means he gets only a splash of warning before he’s yanked into the pool. He comes up giggling and spluttering, “now, is that any way to treat your husband?”

Indrid’s laugh is a siren song, “No, I suppose not.” The music clicks off as Indrid steadies him by curving his tail behind his legs, “how should I treat you instead?”

Duck drapes his arms over Indrid’s shoulders, “You been treatin me pretty damn well, dunkin me aside.”

A flicker of pink and yellow as Indrid rubs their cheeks together, “And if I wanted to be even better?”

“I, uh, I mean if you wanted to we could tryYYYYohfuck” he hunches forward as Indrid’s tail drags across his dick. The clothing on Aquaria is thin, so he can feel the cool scales tease his skin. 

“Oh, oh dear, apologies, I was only trying to embrace you further, I forgot yours do not stay concealed until they’re needed.”

“You, you keep doin that and it’s gonna be needed real quick.”

“Oh?” red eyes narrow wickedly, “does my sweet husband need attending to?” Another drag of his tail, much more deliberate, and Duck grinds his hips in reply. 

“Only if you want to.”

“I do, so very badly.” Indrid nuzzles his nose, “may I take a little while to acquaint myself with your wonderful body?”

“Uh huh.” Duck tugs his shirt off, throwing it onto the land and then giving his shorts the same treatment. 

“Ohhhhhhyes.” Indrid purrs, fins and tails shimmering purple and gold. Then he sinks down, swimming in a slow, tight circle around the human. Pleased chirps and trills bubble up to Duck’s ears. Cool fingers play along his legs and belly, eventually finding his dick and offering an experimental stroke.

“Fuck” he groans, and Indrid does it again, kissing his navel as both hands rub and tease his dick and folds. Indrid is clearly experimenting, maybe even using his visions to guide him, and Duck eagerness to get off succumbs to just how fucking hot it is to have a partner this enrapt by his body, to have them explore it like some awe-inspiring landscape. 

He spreads his hands out and runs them along Indrid’s torso and tail; the scales are just as wonderful under his fingers as he hoped, and he can feel Indrid sigh happily as he pets him. 

Then lips close around his dick and he makes a series of undignified noises, digging one hand into Indrid’s hair to encourage him. 

“Ohmyfuckinchrist, Indrid, yes, fuck please keep suckin like that.”

Indrid wiggles his whole body in response, happy trill underscored by a firmer suck. Duck can’t get enough of his body beneath his hands, of his mouth on Duck’s skin, and he wonders if someone can black out from how good a blowjob feels. 

Indrid’s fin breaks the water and Duck runs an appreciative thumb along the top. Funny, there’s a little depression between it and the membrane of the fin. Curious, he drags his pinky along it. 

The alien bursts upwards with a loud chirp of joy, “Ohgoodness, yes, oh that feels nice please do it again.”

“Yeah? My cute, needy husband need me to play with his fins to get off.”

“Not, not technically by my gods does he want you to.”

“Don’t worry darlin, I will--uh, ‘Drid? Is, is that your dick?”

Indrid follows his gaze to the thick, bumpy shaft emerging from his tail, it’s tip crowned with short, searching tendrils.

“Yes. Also an ovipositor, hence those lumps.”

“Holyfuck. Uh, I, I ain’t sure I’m ready for that yet.” 

“That’s perfectly alright. Though it does mean my cock is not going into you tonight; I’m not sure I can control my bodily responses enough to avoid ovipositing accidentally.”

“Lots of others things we can do.” Duck bites the tip of one ear, making the other flare out.

“Indeed. I say we start with this.” Indrid’s tail encircles his waist just as Indrid shoves his cock between his thighs.

“Like, like the way you think sugar. Fuuuck, fuck that’s good.” The bumps from the eggs have just the right amount of give as he humps them, Indrid matching his tempo with his thrusts. He keeps his arms around his husbands neck, kissing him furiously. Indrid kisses back with a chirp, gold flashing in his scales, and Duck knows he won’t want to kiss anyone else for a long, long time. 

The tip of Indrid’s cock bumps his ass and he groans at what that suggests about it’s size. 

“I’m, I’m takin this fuckin perfect thing all the way before I go.” He bucks his hips harder to make his point, “gonna let you fuck me open on it, fill me up, wanna know what it’s like to cum with you inside me.”

“Oh gods” Indrid whimpers, hiding his face in Ducks neck as he squeezes his thighs together. 

“And, and you’re gonna be a dutiful fuckin husband and fill me however I say, ain’t you?”

“Yes, yesofcourse, goodness Duck I, I’m-”

“Heh, you like that, mr high and mighty seer likes bein bossed around. Well, lucky you, because now that I know just how fuckin good you are at fuckin me, gonna have you doin it ever, fuckin, day.” He jerks his hips hard, three times, and Indric cums with a cry, cock pulsing as he sinks his teeth into Ducks shoulder. Duck doesn’t let up, chases his orgasm over the bumps and ridges until he nearly whites out with pleasure, clinging to Indrid tighter as his body gives up on supporting him. 

After his cock retracts Indrid, still holding Duck up with ease, swims to the button that orders a cleaning cycle on the pool and deposits the human back on the stone. 

“I dearly hope your team finds what you need on this planet so that I may see you beyond these few weeks.”

“Sex was that good?” Duck teases, petting Indrid’s hair as he lays his head in his lap.

“No. Or, well, yes, but more than that you are so, so very wonderful. I wish to get to know you more, to show you even more of my world and my skill in bed.”

Duck kisses the top of his head, “I hope so too.”

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

Communication log between leader of Amnesty Mission at Astrobotanist Duck Newton. 

Mama: Got some promising leads. Will be back to pick you up in three days. 

Duck: Glad to hear it. But take your time, no need to rush only my account. 

[ramblinganthropologist]

MER Week Day 4: Mass Effect + Mass Effect Andromeda

Summary: 2179. What should have been a normal shore leave on the Citadel leaves Alistair and Bo Peep Shepard in a place they’ve never been before: teachers. What can these battle hardened biotics teach young Kitty and Dick... and why do they look so damn familiar?

---

“Well… we’re here. What do you want to do?”

“How about anything other than getting shot at?”

Now that was something Alistair could agree on as he stretched out as far as he could. His body was still sore from the last mission, the lack of sleep, and the ride to the Citadel. Honestly, he was amazed his bones weren’t cracking to bits as he walked along, taking in the artificial sunshine of the space station. Given what he had just been through, it was a true surprise he was still one piece.

Well, maybe that was to be expecting. After all, he and Bo were N7. They were supposed to be tough.

“Could always head to the Tea Cozy, unless you wanted to save that until tomorrow.” He threaded his arms behind his head as he walked, definitely not the picture of a military officer by any means. “Or we could check out the hamsters at Citadel Critters.”

Above his head, Bo rolled her eyes. “Last time I was there, you forgot I existed when you got too deep into discussions on how fucked up the breeding lines at the gift shop are.”

“Well, they are. I don’t know what they think they’re trying to pull…” His voice trailed off. Bo was giving him that look. “Right… specialist knowledge, general application. I’ll stop now.”

She gave him a nod. “That a boy. Honestly, I could go for chicken nuggets that come from a fryer instead of a microwave. It’s been too long since we’ve had real food.”

Real food sounded great right then, especially if it involved a milkshake. Just thinking about them made Alistair’s stomach growl. Judging from the noises coming from his sister, he wasn’t alone in the assessment. Easy enough – lunch it was. Lucky for them, they weren’t too far from one of their other favorite spots.

A few moments later, and the pair were seated by one of the many fountains that dotted the Citadel, their food spread out in front of them. For most people, it would have been a lot. For them, not so much. When it came down to it, they both just needed to eat way more food to keep their biotic systems operating at peak capacity. There was a term for it, and Alistair knew it, but he wasn’t thinking like a medic then. Instead, he was cradling a large paper cup happily, the sleeves of his jacket insulating his hands as he poked in the straw into the bright green concoction.

Nothing like Citadel Burger’s Shamrock Shake. Was he being a bad Irishman that he loved them? Probably, but it wasn’t like he was born in Ireland – that was his parent’s problem, and they were dead, so they really didn’t have anything to say on the matter. Until they managed it, he was content to put a hurting on the milkshake as he started to nibble on the straw.

“You’re supposed to use that to drink, you know.” Bo snickered as she started on her first order of nuggets. The first dip of the day was barbeque sauce, or at least it smelled that way. “You look like Fluffytail like that.”

He would’ve stuck out his tongue, but that would’ve been messy. Instead, he just kept drinking his milkshake and swinging his foot that didn’t quite touch the ground. What could he say, the benches were designed for aliens, and he wasn’t exactly designed for playing basketball. It was something he had… mostly… come to accept.

Mostly.

“I won’t bite through this one.” He leaned back to watch the crowd in front of them. Then downside of Alliance life was being absolutely surrounded by humans. Even back on Mindoir, there had been aliens around, even if they had been far less numerous than the space station. It was why he liked coming to the Citadel – it helped remind him they were part of a community. Of course, that community wasn’t all that fond of humans yet, but they were getting there.

Speaking of community… off the distance, Alistair watched a C-SEC agent picked up the pace. He looked rather upset about something, but it wasn’t clear what. Or, rather, it wasn’t until the blast of light knocked them into a bush.

“What the fuck.” Bo shot him a glance as she got up, bringing her nuggets with her. “Was that?”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence – Alistair had felt it too. It was the telltale tingle of human powered biotics, as if their amps were ringing out in response to the activity. More than that, it was uncontrolled as hell. That left only a few options – someone who was clearly about to melt down, or they were a kid who had no idea what they were doing. Neither were circumstances he trusted a C-SEC agent to handle, and from the looks of things he wasn’t alone. So, he picked up his milkshake and followed behind his sister as they headed over.

The officer, a young turian with blue face paint, was groaning in the bush. His armor was a bit scuffed, but he hadn’t sustained any permanent damage. He wasn’t alone either – in front of the bush, a teenager was laying spread eagle, dazed and confused.

“Human cannonball’s a classic… so who launched them?” Alistair glanced from human to turian. Neither looked badly hurt, but they probably had some scrapes that medigel could fix. “Bo, want to go?”

But she was already gone before he could finish the statement, heading off in the direction of a nearby park. That left him alone, shaking his head as he activated his medigel dispenser. Lucky for him, he had just refilled it before getting off the ship.

Medigel – never leave home without it.

“Alright, so who wants medigel?” He glanced towards the turian, who was already starting to come to. “How about you, Officer- “

The turian stood up, wincing a little. “Vakarian. I’m fine, just a little rattled. Some human kids…”

His voice trailed off. One of the human kids was still groaning at his feet, clearly the loser in the fight between the species. Honestly, they were kind of pathetic, laying there in a lump, half hidden by an oversized sweatshirt that was clearly a few sizes too large.

Boy, was that a reminder of his teenage years…

“I think they need this more than you.” Alistair knelt down to assess the patient. “Hey, are you able to focus?”

Green eyes slowly focused on him – good, no concussion. While he was shit at gauging ages, they couldn’t have been older than 17. More than that, the metal jutting out of the back of their neck was new. Most kids that weren’t him got that at puberty and spent time after that practicing so they didn’t blow shit up. Clearly, someone was still in the blowing shit up phase.

So… he’d put them 16 at best.

“Y-yeah…” they groaned, holding their head. “Where…”

Officer Vakarian filled that in for him. “In the Presidium. You know you’re not supposed to use biotics here, Dick.”

He looked around, towards where Bo had run off. “Did Kitty cause it this time?”

Dick and Kitty… well, Alistair was in no position to judge anyone’s names Still, at least the officer knew his would-be patient. That would make getting them back on their feet easier, especially if he had access to their emergency contacts.

He wasn’t really used to using those while people were still alive… so this was going to be a new one for him.

Dick shook his head, and then instantly seemed to regret it as he started to groan. “Maybe? It’s kind of a blur, Officer Vakarian…”

He looked up at Alistair, frowning. “Was it that bad you brought the EMTs in?”

Alistair chuckled as he waved his hand. “Don’t worry, I’m just a passerby. I can fix up your scrapes, though. It doesn’t look like you’ve got a concussion. Still getting used to your biotics, I see.”

He offered his hand, and the boy took it. Much to his quiet relief, Dick was still shorter than him. It was a little petty, but the marine took his small victories when he got them. Besides, the boy would outgrow him in a year or so. They always did.

Maybe he had been kidding about being mostly ok with his height… he was only human.

“Yeah… I got my amp six months ago.” Dick touched the back of his neck, frowning. “How’d you know?”

Before Alistair could answer, his attention was drawn by a flash of pink. Bo had returned, and at her side was another teenager. This one shared Dick’s face and green eyes, but the hair was blue and there was a bandage over their nose. At least they didn’t seem too put off by his sister, though the sight of Officer Vakarian caused them to blanche.

Ah. He knew an instigator when he saw one. Somebody was busted.

“We were totally not in the common area, Officer Vakarian, I swear.” Who he assumed was Kitty held up her scraped hands – yep, those were going to need medigel. “Dick and I were just…”

The turian shook his head. “Just using your biotics outside of a registered practice zone. That’s the third time this week. I left you off the last time, but now I’m going to have to call your parents on this one.”

The two teenagers winced at the thought, and Alistair felt a pang of sympathy. While he hadn’t been as young as them when he’d first gotten his amp, he remembered the early jitters of new biotics and the need to get them working. Of course, he had never launched a C-SEC agent into a bush, but… well, hormones and biotics were tricky.

“What if my sister and I talked to them about it?”

All eyes were suddenly on him – the hopeful gaze of the two would-be criminals, the mildly confused glance of the turian agent, and his sister, looking amused by this. Talk about a tough room to work. At least sweat didn’t bead on his forehead. Maybe he was getting used to public speaking.

And maybe the hanar would get into rodeo. No way he was ever talking in front of people…

“And… what would that do?” Officer Vakarian cocked his head to the side. Most people would take that as instigating, but there wasn’t the tone to his voice. Instead, he sounded curious. Maybe he wanted to see how this would play out.

Smart man – maybe he’d be the lucky one to make it to retirement.

Bo was the one who answered for him. She motioned to her neck, allowing the metal to catch the light. Unlike the two teenagers’, her amp had seen some action. It was scuffed and starting to look a little dull. His probably wasn’t much better, but it wasn’t like he could see it. After all, it was on the back of his fucking head.

“We’re biotics who got past the unintentional blow shit up phase.”

Emphasis in her case on unintentional.

Alistair nodded though, keeping his eye on the turian all the while. “Plus, I think two N7 level marines could give these two a worthy lecture. No need to get their parents in on this, Officer. You’ve probably got a hundred more important things to do, right?”

Nothing like giving someone an out and reminding them of the work piling up to get them off your case. He could practically see the gears churning underneath the face plates and face paint. Just a few more seconds of contemplation…

Officer Vakarian sighed and shook his head. “Try to keep an eye on your sister, Dick. I’ll let you both off with a warning this time since these two are going to vouch for you.”

The twins visibly relaxed at this. Not long after, the turian departed – probably to go write a parking ticket or mess up someone else’s day. This left Alistair and Bo in a weird quasi state of loco parentis that definitely made him sweat a little as he eyed the two teenagers in front of him.

Maybe he should’ve thought this one out better.

“Well, I’m getting back to our food before the Keepers clean it up.” Bo glanced over her shoulders at their new friends. “Follow me if you don’t want to get arrested, squirts.”

Back to the food it was then. Much to Alistair’s relief, the Keepers had left it alone. Of course, that didn’t matter much – there were mild injuries to be treated. More importantly, he realized he was getting a rather dirty look from Kitty as she glanced over at him.

Was it something he said?

At least Dick didn’t seem to mind as he settled into the bench. “Thanks for saving us… I don’t think you said your name.”

“Alistair, and that’s my sister Bo.” She nodded her head at his introduction. “Not a problem. Who wants the medigel first?”

Kitty shot him another dirty look as she tugged at her brother’s sleeve. “Thanks for the save, but not int- “

Contact with her scraped palms was enough to make her hiss. Alistair shook his head as he motioned for her to come over. She fought it briefly, but soon she was seated across from him, holding out her hands as he applied the medigel. Maybe in a few years she would be a proper badass like Bo, but she still had a ways to go. Still, not bad for a 16-year-old, especially one so new to biotics. There was hope for her yet.

“Best to clean these up before they get infected. Biotics mess with heal rates and germs can get trapped underneath the skin.” He motioned to Bo. “Ask her if you don’t believe me.”

Next to him, his sister bristled. “That was ONE time…”

And once was enough for him.

“Yeah, whatever, thanks.” Kitty pulled her healed hands away, almost as if she was burned. “Can we go now? I get enough N7 bullshit at home, I don’t need it from two randos on shore leave.”

She sent him a withering glance. “Especially not from the boy scout over here.”

Well, wasn’t someone a fucking delight…

“Kitty, they’re just being nice…” Dick frowned as he turned towards the pair. “Sorry… we uh… don’t really get along with our dad. He’s N7 too.”

Huh. Now that Alistair was getting a good look at them, something did strike him as vaguely familiar. It wasn’t exact, but he’d sworn he’d seen those eyes somewhere before, it just was hard to put his finger on it. Maybe it had been someone he had been in training with? It was going to drive him nuts… damn name was on the tip of his tongue.

“Most of them are bastards except for me and the boy scout.” Bo, always the fountain of truth. “What’s his name? Maybe we kicked his ass for you once or twice during training.”

At the mention of her father’s ass being kicked, Kitty brightened. “God, I hope so. He’s such an ass… but his name’s Alec Ryder.”

…

Oh, fuck.

Alistair felt his eye twitch as he looked from one teen to the next. He could see it now, in the defiant set of Kitty’s jaw and the pointed accuracy of Dick’s gaze. Normally, he saw those features combined and set into the face of an old man he wanted to blast into a fucking wall. Maybe the outright lack of assholeism was enough to make him temporarily forget the face of the man he hated more than anyone else.

Who the hell had taste bad enough to marry Alec Ryder, and where could he send his condolences?

“That asshole is your dad?” Bo snorted. “Al, I think you just found someone to beat you in the shittiest father competition.”

Oh, how he wanted to agree… but was it wrong to badmouth a father in front of his children like this?

Dick must’ve been a mind reader, because he smiled awkwardly. “It’s ok if you don’t like him, we think he’s an asshole too.”

“Oh, thank God…” Alistair sighed in relief. “I didn’t want to talk badly about him in front of you if you liked him.”

So sue him, he didn’t exactly put much stock in father-child relationships. After all, his fucking sucked. Judging from the looks on the twins’ faces, they knew exactly how he felt. And how could they not – they had Alec fucking Ryder for a father. The man was a blowhard douchebag on a good day; Alistair didn’t even want to think of what he might be like at home. His poor wife…

Nah, he was definitely divorced. No way anyone stayed married to that man for long.

“Well, at least we know other Alliance people hate him. Guess that means we’re not crazy.” Kitty seemed visibly cheered by this as she grabbed for one of Alistair’s fries – he let her; she was a growing biotic. “So, what about that little lecture you were planning? Can we skip it if we promise never to do it again and don’t cross our fingers this time?”

At that, Alistair shook his head. “No, we do need to talk about that. You got lucky this time because your strike was off. Full force could’ve really hurt Officer Vakarian or your brother.”

Dick’s head picked up very slightly at that – and as the pieces fell into place, his heart went out to him. Kitty on the other hand just looked mildly annoyed at the assessment of her aim as she stole some more fries. Lucky for him, he’d gotten extra.

“I didn’t even dent his armor…”

Bo snorted. “Not with a strike that weak. If you really want to put some force into it, you need to generate a little spin before you strike. It makes it hit harder.”

“It does?”

Oh, no. He could see where this one was going… best to nip it in the bud before Officer Vakarian got launched out the airlock with their next practice attempt.

“You need better control before you attempt something like that.” He sipped absent-mindedly at his milkshake. “And better separation of your attack styles. That felt like a half warp, half singularity to me. I would focus on getting each move down first.”

It was an argument that often fell on deaf ears, especially if they belonged to teenagers. He could just tell from the look on Kitty’s face that the kind of practice he was suggesting would bore her to tears. On the bright side, at least her brother looked interested. Dick actually had his omni-tool out and was honest-to-God taking notes.

Kid like that was an ego boost and a half… talk about having a favorite.

“That works fine for defense, but if you’re interested in front line assault, you need power. Sometimes it come down to who can hit harder.” Bo cracked her knuckles for emphasis. “I’d start lifting weights honestly.”

He shot her a look over his milkshake. “You’re going to turn them into berserkers, Bo.”

“What, it’s a valid strategy. You teach yours your way, I’ll handle mine.” Bo motioned for Kitty to get closer. “Now… the key to a good smack…”

Alistair was left groaning as he gave up – he knew a lost cause when he saw one. At least there would always be a future for them in destruction. On the bright side, he still had an attentive pupil, eager for more information. He could work with that.

“Well, since they’ve decided to go blunt force, we could discuss defensive maneuvers…”

“Sure, sounds good!”

Music to his ears… now, where to start?

---

“Thanks, Bo! I’ll let you know how the weightlifting goes!”

Kitty’s voice carried over the Presidium as she and her brother waved goodbye. Apparently, it was time for them to go home for dinner. This left their two impromptu instructors standing by the fountain, watching them go.

They were good kids, if a little green.

“Kid’s going to be killer when she gets older.” Bo chuckled, clearly pleased. “How about yours? We got another brick wall in the making?”

Alistair nodded as he worked to clean up their trash. “Dick has promise if he works on controlling his barriers. The new amps are great for fine motor skills. I can’t wait to see what they come up with as their hormone levels even out.”

With any luck, he wouldn’t see either of them in the Alliance anytime soon. As much as he appreciated them helping to keep his brain for overheating, the last thing he wanted was for a young biotic to think their only option was the military. Things were getting better now, or at least better than they had been when he was their age. Maybe with luck, they’d avoid it altogether.

That was at least his hope for them.

“Kitty said she’s going to send me some vids when she makes progress. She’ll probably slide the string bean in there too.” The sight of the clock in the nearby square caused Bo to wince. “Shit, it’s really that late? We were talking to those kids for two hours…”

No wonder his throat hurt so much…

“Guess we just got excited.” The pair started walking back to where they were staying, plans still on their mind for tomorrow. “Though, hard to believe they’re Alec Ryder’s kids.”

Bo snorted at that. “Yeah, they’re actually hu- “

She stopped, and then started to snicker. “Damn… can’t believe I didn’t pick that up until now.”

Alistair cocked his eyebrow as he watched his sister chuckle. If there was a joke, he wasn’t getting it. Of course, maybe he was just tired from the explanations. Either way, it be nice if she let him in sometime.

“What?”

“Their names are Dick and Kitty Ryder.” Another snicker. “Dick Ryder, come on…”

…

“Come on, Al, you know you’d have gone there too if you were in his shoes. Don’t hate cause the kid picked a better name than you did.”

He wasn’t hating… he was appreciating the balls it took to run with the joke all the way to legal documents. There was a difference.

“I would’ve gone with Knight or Ghost personally, but we all know my opinions on riding dick.” It was a miracle he kept a straight face at that.

“He had to, you already got Kitty Ryder. Gotta complete the set after all.”

Bo was grinning like the cat that ate the canary, and honestly, he wasn’t doing much better if the shake of his shoulders was anything to go by. At least he managed to keep walking, though a thousand jokes were still bubbling up with every step he took. He pushed them down – didn’t want to overdo it after all.

“Come on, let’s get back before we find some more biotic children to mentor. I want to watch Forensic Files VI tonight.”

“Ugh, you always want to watch Forensic Files…”

What, it was like the only thing available in like every system. So sue him.

Still, Alistair got a good feeling about the future as he walked with Bo by his side. If the new generation of biotics were like the pair in the park, maybe things would turn out better. Hell, maybe one day he’d hear about the Ryder twins making their own history.

Of course, that was for another day.  At the moment, he had more pressing matters in mind – like beating Bo back so he could wrestle away control of the remote for a few hours. That was a fight he was willing to go to the death on.

Ah, nothing like shore leave. Why wasn’t it always this enlightening?

[icicleteeth]

So I wrote a tiny ESO AU with @your-holy-mountain​ ‘s Finn and my dunmer Servyn for the laffs and because I got emotional about Finn being a good friend because Tii is a good friend of mine enjoy the trash under the cut...

(Disclaimer though, this isn’t going to be super well written at all, as it’s just an off the cuff little ficlet alsjfdj)

The early morning rabble of Mournhold’s central trading plaza sings with the hustling and bustling of a city which never sleeps nor rests--men, mer, beast, automata, and sometimes tamed daedra fill the streets in a near shoulder to shoulder crowd, all of which with important work for important people to attend to, though none of which called themselves nor anyone else by their real names, as such work wasn’t so important as to interrupt the annual weekly celebration of the Jester’s Festival--an honored holiday amongst all of Tamriel where Khajiiti named Kitty Kitty Bang Bang and Bosmer named Big Meat Indulgence address eachother as such unabashedly, as if it were completely normal and expected to do so.

Servyn wished he could join in on such festivities. He quite hated his name and would usually revel in any excuse to change it (even if temporarily)...but there wasn’t much use in changing one’s name when said one is a street Dunmer. He never had any reason to give anyone his real name, let alone a silly made up one. Most just called him Beggar. He supposed “Beggar” was a better name than “Servyn”, but it would feel odd to share the same name as every other beggar in Mournhold (of which there were many). 

He lies curled up on the ground against the blacksmith’s plaza. Many filter in and out without noticing him much, though this particular spot gave a perfect view of the city’s wayshrine, where those coming in from all over Tamriel will inevitably see him, as the blacksmith’s is right across from the shrine’s entryway. Servyn looks to his tattered cap a few feet away, and makes a heartless effort to reach for it without having to get up (this being for a lack of motivation, he tells himself. Not because he doesn’t trust his legs to give out the moment he tries to use them). He’s able to brush the tip of it, but gives up trying to check it. Probably no coins in there anyway. At least watching the large guild stores haggle with passing knights and mages and trading goods he could never hope to behold in his life brought him some amusement. The aforementioned humorous names exchanged while doing so helped a bit, too.

Something was sniffing--a breathy heavy sniffing--at him. Servyn had managed to shift between laying on his side facing the streets to instead face the wall some time ago, which he’d done so when watching a trader present a whole roasted bantam guar became too much to handle. This seemed like a good idea at the time, though it meant he couldn’t see what was currently invading his personal space; not that this was too unusual. Street animals were just as numerous as street mer, and even they weren’t desperate enough to gobble up filthy urchins with hardly any meat on their bones. Just let it happen and it’ll go away. 

“What’s that you found, Dandelion?”

At the sound of a man’s voice close behind him, Servyn twitches and sweats. Okay, so it isn’t a nix hound. That’s fine. Right? He’ll take one look at me, reel back in repulsion for a few seconds, and let me go--

Before he’s able to finish that thought, he’s suddenly off the ground, for whatever was sniffing at him decided to pick him up and carry him by his shirt. The first thing he sees is the large bear paws--bear paws!--shuffling below him on the ground. The second thing he sees is an even larger Breton man in a black tunic and huge muscles adorned with intricate tattoos standing before him.

This is it, then! This is where I die, right here and right now! Be it by the hands of a strongman or in the belly of a bear...or both! All he could muster is quick desperate breathing, for it was useless to cry for a guard. They wouldn’t care to see a beggar go, anyway.

As expected, the Breton reels back with a look of surprise--though this surprise doesn’t seem like one of disgust.

“Wow! You found a baby grampa, Dandie! Amazing!”

Grampa? He was hardly past his early twenties! Not that he was offended by the mixup--his hair is naturally white, and the unkempt nature of his facial hair could certainly fool anyone into thinking he was an old man. The uncontrollable shaking in fear surely ought to tell the man he was far from a grizzled elder. Now you’re just giving him more reason to see you as easy prey!

“Oh, but will you please let him go, Dandie? Most people don’t like being held by a bear’s maw--I know, I don’t get it either. But it is what it is!”

Just as commanded, the bear releases Servyn, who falls to the ground like dead weight. Were it not for his still raspy and frantic breathing, one could easily assume he were already dead.

“Sorry about that, little elf! Dandie likes magical things, because she’s magical too! But that means you’re magical, right?” 

Not really. He may know a good deal more magic than the average street rat, but it was only simple magic he picked up from beginner’s spell books in the public library. He likely paled in comparison to the city’s many wizards and Telvanni mages. Surely this adventurous looking man has seen a good number of better mages to gawk at.

“Finnegan Stormborne, at your service!” he bows, and squeaks “and Dandelion, at yours as well!” in his best (and frankly impressive) falsetto. The bear still seemed uncomfortably interested in Servyn, but he was powerless to run away. He didn’t want to talk to the stranger, but decided maybe if he engaged in small talk with the man, then he may be generous enough to not let his bear tear him to shreds.

“Is...that your Jester’s name, sera?”

The Breton blinks, though is silent for only a moment before bursting into hearty laughter.

“Ha! I could never be a real jester, no. They’re funny on purpose, you see.”

“I...do?” The intentions of the Breton named Finnegan were lost on him. It didn’t seem like information--which was good, because Servyn wasn’t like the other beggars in that way. It didn’t seem like he simply wanted an easy target to bully, as he hasn’t done so--yet. It couldn’t be money, because surely the last place you’d look for extra gold is--

“Say, you dropped your hat!” 

Oh. Maybe it is money after all. Servyn doubted anything was in it anyway, but on the off chance there was...well. He supposed it wasn’t the first time he’d resigned himself to another night of sleeping hungry, though he didn’t have much time to lament about this, as he feels something placed on his head, and a handful of coins presented to him.

“These were inside it, too. Best hide ‘em, you never know when the gold-eating rats decide to come out...”

The what?

With great effort, Servyn sits up to better address Finnegan (though slightly wilting at the man’s towering height).

“There are no gold-eating rats here, sera. Or anywhere...at least, I don’t think so...” He cuts his own sentence off quickly, fearing the man would snap at him for talking back.

“Oh! That’s just what I call tax collectors. But eh, what does sera mean, by the by? Do you mean to say “serenade”? Cus I’m always in the mood for a song, and I don’t do so well, being tempted with a good time!”

Now it’s Servyn’s turn to blink. Finn, on other hand, seems jovial as a drunken Nord.

“Yeah, you know what? What do you say to a night in, Dandelion? I’ll get you a good roast, sing some songs...hey! Why don’t you join us, Dunmer? Dandie seems to really like you!”

Now the Breton must really be out of his mind. Him? In a tavern? With other people, who will probably sneer at the presence of a vagrant in their establishment? Alongside a stranger, no less!? The worst part was said stranger seemed genuine in his offer--but it didn’t matter. He shouldn’t go. He can’t go.

“Erm! I’d be happy to join you, Sir Finnegan, but my legs aren’t very strong, and I don’t think I will be able to stand...nor do I think tavern patrons would stand me, if you understand what I’m saying. You’d best be off on your own, the local tavern is that way--”

In an instant, Servyn, for the second time, is lifted off the ground; this time in the rock-hard muscular arms of Finnegan (a feat not difficult for him at all, as Servyn’s meager height of under five feet tall and malnourished frame required no more effort to lift than a sack of potatoes). This time he does yelp, though it comes out more akin to a frightened squeak.

“If that’s all that’s stopping you, then I can help with that! By the way, you can call me Finn. Now, where’d you say the nearest tavern was? That way? Come on, Dandelion!”

Servyn wasn’t sure which was worse: watching Finn dance the Lava Foot Shuffle directly on the Flaming Nix Inn’s hot coal stove, or watching Dandelion gnaw at roasted salmon. Neither one helped calm the frantic anxiety for his new friend‘s wellbeing...or the ravenous appetite of his long-unfed stomach. Finn notices this, and hops off the coals for a moment.

“Hey, are you alright? If you tell me your name, I can sing a song about you!”

In truth, Servyn wasn’t really paying attention to Finn. In an attempt to look somewhere else, his eyes ended up settling on the large cauldron of duck soup cooking behind the innkeeper’s counter. He didn’t notice the bit of drool escaping his mouth, but Finn does, with a sad “Oh.”

Before Servyn knew it, a bowl is presented to him, with Finn kneeling down a bit to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, friend. I should’ve known you must be famished, being on the streets and all. Do you like this stuff?”

Were Servyn in a different position, he’d beat himself up for such rudeness, as he didn’t wait to ask before taking the bowl from Finn’s hands without a single word and wolfing the soup down in a hunched up ball on the bench. Finn, however, is more than happy to let his friend be, and return to his dancing, only turning around to say: “I paid the chef for as many bowls as you want, so don’t be shy if you want more!”

Three bowls and an unceremonious belch later, Servyn lies sleepily against Dandelion, who situated herself behind the mer and quite enjoys acting as a large fluffy pillow while she dozes a bit herself. Finn, in his never-ending zeal, still happily dances amongst the coals whilst singing a new song about a Nordic king in a far-off kingdom. However, once noticing his ursine companion give a big toothy yawn, he stops singing.

“Ah, suppose you’re right, Dandie. It’s getting late. Hey innkeep! I’ll have two rooms for the night, put it on my tab, will you?” He makes to leap gracefully off the coals, but trips on a particularly odd-shaped stone and falls with a thud and a nonchalant “Ow.” Servyn perks up, immediately worried for Finn, and is not calmed down despite the Breton getting up easily and without distress.

“The second room I bought is for you, Dunmer. You don’t have to take it, but I thought it’d be better than going back to the streets. It’s no big expense on me, either way.”

There wasn’t time to worry about that right now. Struggling to get up, Servyn manages to stand, though with wobbly legs and a belly that felt much heavier than he was used to.

“Sir Finn, your arm..!” He points to a raw patch of skin which endured direct contact with the coals, and is now a large splotch of pink. Finn shrugs.

“Oh, don’t worry about that! I’ll take care of it later. But you look exhausted, friend. I can carry you to your room, if you’d like. Or the streets, I guess...if that’s what you want...”

Without thinking, Servyn trudges over to Finn, half of his energy focused on not collapsing, and the other half dedicated to channeling a healing spell. He all but collapses into Finn’s arms, but is able to cast the spell on the burned skin, and watches with relief as it mends right before his eyes--and Finn’s who stares in awe.

“Say, I knew you were magical! My arm feels good as new!” He hugs Servyn a bit tighter than he’d like, but thankfully the man has enough foresight to not put his usual effort into the embrace. He now cradles his friend, who looks to the floor sheepishly.

“It was just a simple spell, and was the least I could do, given the kindness you’ve shown me...” 

“Simple? I’d say that’s a real talent you have there! Have you tried joining the local Mages Guild? I bet they’d love to have you!”

Of course not. Someplace as prestigious as a guild would turn him away the moment they saw him, with his dirty untamed hair and filthy ragged tunic and patchwork pants. Finn was the weird one for not doing the same. Why didn’t he do the same?

Knowing he expects and answer, Servyn simply shakes his head. Finn makes his way up the stairs, still with the mer in tow, who doesn’t object or ask to be taken back to the streets.

“You should! I work for them sometimes. Sort of. I find these weird books all over the place that they’re interested in, but lots of mages are real stuck up. They complain and say things like “Finnegan, why is it covered in swamp stains?” Maybe because I found it in a swamp! You wouldn’t care if I gave you a book I found in a swamp, right?”

Servyn once again shakes his head, and mutters “a book is a book, sera. It’s not your fault it happened to end up in a swamp.”

“Right!? See, you understand, and I bet you would call me Finn instead of Finnegan. Mages do that to sound regal, but it’s too formal for me! Wish I had a friend in the guild who wasn’t so stuck up...like you!”

They reach a door. Finn pushes it open with his shoulders, and lays Servyn on the single bed. He blushes a bit--at the softness of the mattress and blankets so foreign and long forgotten after years of sleeping rough, and at the seemingly never-ending kindness of the Breton man.

“I’ve got to tuck Dandelion in now, but I’m in the room just across from yours. You can knock if you need me.”

Finn turns around, but before he’s able to leave the room, a soft voice interrupts him.

“S-Servyn! My name is Servyn. So you know who to...um, send the bill to. I don’t know when I can pay it back but--”

“Servyn, eh? I like it! Now I know exactly how to introduce you to the Magister! This is fantastic! Thanks for telling me, Servyn. But I’ll let you sleep now, okay? We’ll need all our strength for tomorrow, after all!”

The door clicks shut before Servyn is able to retort back. He isn’t sure whether he’s decided to give up on understanding Finn or understanding why he let the Breton sweep him up into a tavern room to begin with--all he knew was he was tired, much so that he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He could hear the man from the hallway baby-talking (presumedly to his bear) but didn’t feel at all annoyed by this break in silence. Finn’s voice truly exude a warmth so rarely heard, even from the kindest Temple priests. Servyn couldn’t bring himself to complain, and felt odly...okay with him knowing his true name, and he knowing Finn’s, and this sickeningly sweet okay-ness that he never thought he’d ever feel again lulls him into a gentle sleep. 

But if anyone else asks, my name is Captain Sujamma Guzzler.

[broken-clover]

AU-gust Day 8- Superpowers/Superheroes

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

So apparently when I say ‘these are very long, maybe I should make them less long next time’ it apparently means ‘WRITE NEARLY 5000 WORDS AND SUFFER’ I’m having. A day. Not a bad one just. A Day. This more or less feels like a pilot episode for something honestly.

Please do not ask why I keep writing Sin because there is no answer.

Ky had left him in charge of the scanner. Again.

And Sin knew why he had done it, why he always left him sitting in the high-backed chair perched in front of an array of high-tech computers while he and his friends leapt into action. It wasn’t because Sin was any kind of tech genius. It was because it was the best way of keeping him out of the way.

They didn’t even pretend like it was a real task in need of doing. Sol had already rigged the scanner so that it would send notifications to the entire team as soon as it picked up anything suitably peculiar. Ky’s excuse was that they needed him to watch it and make sure the scanner didn’t malfunction, but it never did. It was just a good way to keep him from running around while Ky couldn’t keep an eye on him.

Well, he could have brought him along, but whenever he suggested, Ky just had to get all uppity about it, and say in so many words that he didn’t want his precious baby boy going on dangerous missions, except he’d say it in a way that made him sound completely reasonable and rational, even though he was a teenager now and he was tired of spending time in front of the monitors and doing nothing but sitting on his ass like a useless idiot.

He shifted to prop his chin up on his other arm. The scanner did another rotation around Illyria, but no notification popped up, just like the last thousand or so times. Ugh, he’d been here for hours, when were they going to come back? The distress call had come from the complete opposite side of town, but considering that half of them could fly, and Ky himself could turn into a goddamn lightning bolt, they were awfully slow. So much for ‘just a quick mission’ like he had promised.

Groaning, Sin abandoned the chair and left it to spin behind him. He left the completely empty computer room to head into the equally-empty kitchen, hoping to find something to munch on. In between Sol’s beer bottles, Testament’s vegan snacks and Chipp’s leftover Japanese takeout, there was a plastic-domed pastry box. His excited smile melted off as soon as he pulled it out and peered inside.

“Thank you for keeping our city safe!” Said the fancy frosting letters. Yeah, he knew where it was from. The local orphanage had sent it after Ky and his friends had stopped Judgement from blowing up half the city last week. Because they were a bunch of good-samaritan do-gooders so compassionate and helpful that they got fucking cake from orphans.

He still cut a big piece from it before shoving the thing back into the fridge. Hey, cake was cake. Plus, he could get a kick out of ruining the letters and part of the bright yellow smiley-face under it.

At least being stuck at the base meant nobody raised a stink over him sitting on the meeting table. Sin was careful not to leave any shoe tracks on it, though, after Ky had chewed him out for it the last time. Personally, he thought having a white table was stupid in the first place, but that was the design Ky liked. It was the same reason they had the big sweeping ceilings, elaborate carvings along the walls, and a special designated chair for each of their official members, individualized by their names and insignias (Because his dad really was that fucking cliche)

In between bites of cake, he toed at the fancy lightning bolt carved into Ky’s chair, with ’Thunderseal’ written out above it. Sin remembered when he used to chase his father around the house, pretending to be him with a construction-paper mask and towel cape. He had utterly idolized Thunderseal, and dreamed that someday he would be able to take up the mantle when he became a real hero. It wasn’t a dream he clung onto anymore. Just the shadow of being his son was big enough.

Sin tried to take his mind off things by pulling out his phone. Maybe May would be up for a chat.

‘Anything going on w/ u?’

May always had her phone on her, so it didn’t take long before his pinged with a message. ’Just finished a job! Hbu?’

‘Send pics?’ Just his luck he got her while she was out working. At least maybe he could get a few cool pictures out of it.

Just like last time, it barely took a minute before she responded back with a pile of photos. All of them had May smiling with her teammates in uniform, along with a very irritated-looking (and very wet) tied-up criminal. He’d hoped that the pictures would have cheered him up, but all it did was annoy him further. She was younger and smaller than him by a lot, but she was allowed to go out on dangerous jobs.

Mer-May, the absolute darling of the Jellyfish team of superheroes. Even though they weren’t from Illyria, he still saw stories and photos about them in the paper. They looked like a real team. They probably took all their team members out on missions, and when they didn’t, he bet they had a much better reason than needing someone to watch the scanners.

’Great job! :D’ he messaged back with stiff, trembling fingers, before an errant current made his screen crackle and explode in a burnt cloud.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Why did that always happen when he got frustrated, this was his twelfth phone in the last year! Like he needed one more thing to be annoyed about.

Sin was sick and tired of being inside. He abandoned his half-eaten cake at the table and headed for the entrance, swiping his jacket and a spare mask on the way out.

++++++

Nobody gave him much of a second look as he slid along the wires twenty feet off the ground. Anybody who even noticed the crackle of electricity in the first place regarded him with complete nonchalance. Superpowered individuals had become a lot more commonplace, especially with the formation of publicly-known groups like the Jellyfish and the Guardians of Illyria. It was practically a celebrity subculture. Just a fixture of daily life. People with powers no longer had much of a reason to hide anymore.

In his absentmindedness, he nearly fell off-balance and slipped from the wire he was on. He wondered if Ky ever did that on the job. He might’ve been the team’s shiny poster-boy, but he wasn’t as perfect as everyone always acted like he was. It didn’t stop the newspapers and nighttime TV reports from painting him as some flawless guardian angel. Even when he was little, they were always talking about Ky.’s exploits, how he made Illyria a safe place. For the longest time, all that praise had convinced him his father could do no wrong.

Sin remembered the times when he would hold his father’s hand as they skated across the powerlines, helping him keep his balance. Sin always kept his eyes peeled for trouble, and whenever they spotted a kitten stuck in a tree or someone struggling with groceries, Ky would let him take charge to ‘save’ the civilian in need. He used to love the slightly-exaggerated smiles from grateful people and congratulatory pats on the head from his father, but it all felt so infuriatingly patronizing now. He didn’t want to be stuck helping old ladies cross the street while his father and his friends fought the real villains and saved the day. It never felt like he was helping anyone in the long run, he was just doing errands for people and nothing more than that.

He skidded to a stop on an electronic billboard, slid down the maintenance ladder, and found a place to sit. From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a tiny battered book and pen.

‘Sin the Superhero!’ was scrawled across the front in faded, childlike handwriting. He skipped past the scribbled-over and torn pages in the front half, all practically carbon-copies of Ky, until he reached the more complicated doodles and neater handwriting.

‘Hero Name Ideas.’ The list had gotten longer recently, but still none of them seemed to fit him right. He scratched off a couple of older ideas and jot down ‘Livewire’ and ‘Sparx’ at the bottom. Mmm, no, when he wrote them down on paper, that didn’t seem right, either.

“Ughh, why is this so hard!?” Sin groaned to himself, closing the book and smacking himself in the face with it. He wasn’t going to be Thunderseal. No matter what, he was not going to be Thunderseal.

He’d thought of skipping town and joining the Jellyfish, but May’s manager Johnny said that they only accepted female members. There were a few others scattered across the country, like the ones down in Kagutsuchi, Remnant, and Inaba, but they seemed so different from what he was used to, Sin wasn’t sure he’d fit in even if they let him join.

He spotted a convenience store half a block down. Maybe he just needed a snack to help him think. He hadn’t gotten to finish his cake, after all.

Sin slid back up onto the powerline and followed the sidewalk until he found a wall generator to jump into near ground-level. The light burst that followed him when he landed startled an older woman as she headed back to her car, but otherwise nobody paid attention.

The convenience store was awfully quiet for the afternoon, but all it meant was that he could scour the aisles for something to eat. They didn’t have anything meaty, so he settled for red licorice. It almost looked like meat.

“Would you like a bag?” The cashier asked, with the usual feigned-cheer that minimum wage barely afforded.

“Nah, I’m just gonna eat it now.” He replied, digging for a few spare bills in his back pocket.

When he found the money and went to turn back around, he spotted an ominous smear of crimson in his peripheral vision. Out through the front windows, a peculiar-looking girl was stumbling across the parking lot barefoot, stained in what appeared to be blood.

“The hell…?” Sin murmured. He realized he still had money in his hand. “Oh. Shit, uh, keep the change!” All but throwing the money at the poor woman, he grabbed his licorice and bolted out the door, taking a moment to swing his head around to find that girl again before running after her. “Hey! Hold on a second!”

Maybe he was too loud, because she immediately flinched and threw up her arms to cover her head. “I-I’m sorry!”

“You’re...what?” He skidded to a stop right in front of her. Yeah, that was definitely blood. The girl didn’t seem to be in a good condition, if the stumbling hadn’t already given it away. All the bloodstains appeared to be coming from the numerous wounds on her body, mixed together with a handful of ugly violet bruises. “Man, you look in bad shape. Did you get attacked?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” With her arms still covering her, she crouched down and began trembling.

Sin’s features softened. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He crouched down next to her, trying his best to sound harmless. “Okay? Not gonna hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Y-you aren’t?” A single diamond-blue eye peeked between trembling fingers.

“No, I’m not. Are you in danger? Do you need someone to keep you safe?”

She gave him a slow, jerky nod. “Ok! I can do that. My house is really safe, my dad’s a superhero so you don't have to worry about people getting in unless you want them to! Why don’t we go there, and then I can get you some bandaids?”

Another little nod. “Sounds like a plan, then!” He took her hand, helped her back up, and turned in the direction of where he’d come from. “It’s over this way, so we can-”

“No!! No, no, we can’t!” She suddenly shrieked, trying to pull herself from his grip.

“Woah, woah!” Sin let her go in his shock. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t go! I can’t go!” She cried, tugging at her pale pink hair with both hands. “I can’t leave without my sister!”

“Your sister? Where is she?”

Her expression grew haunted. “Oh...oh no...I left her behind...I promised we wouldn’t be separated…”

Sin tried to quell the growing feeling of excitement unfurling in him. Yes, this girl was clearly in need of help. He was finally doing his first real job as a hero, without Ky getting in the way! And he’d found it all by himself! But he needed to keep serious.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get your sister.” He gave the girl a confident grin. “Can you show me where she is?”

Another nod. “Uh-huh. I can show you.”

“Think you can show me from the rooftops? It’ll be faster that way.” She didn’t pull away again when he started leading her towards the generator he had jumped out of.

“Huh? There’s no ladder, how would you- aaaah!”

Sin scooped her up before taking off up the wires to the roof. “I’m a hero, too! I can follow electric currents! So if you can point me in the direction of- oh.”

The sudden movement had apparently freaked her out, and both of her trembling arms were tightly wrapped around him for stability.

“Oops. Um, sorry about that. I forget the vertigo is really bad the first few times.” He tried giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “But I promise I won’t drop you, okay? I just need you to show me what direction you came from.”

It took her a moment to unbury herself from her place in his jacket, but she reached out to point towards the heart of Illyria. “That way. It's by the big building with a cow on the roof.”

His grin came back as Sin felt the sparks fly off his feet. “Say no more!”

++++++

Sin had never been to this part of town before, on the ground or otherwise. It seemed like a perfectly nice neighborhood, but for some reason, there was just something that felt...off.

He tried not to worry about it. “Hey, so you didn’t tell me your name. I’m Sin! What should I call you?”

The girl in his arms seemed to have finally gotten used to the harsh movements, only wincing when the harsh wind blew the hair in her eyes. “E-Elphelt.” She said. “My name is Elphelt.”

Weird name, but he didn’t say anything. Even if he wanted to, he was interrupted by her pointing him left. “R-right there! The big white building!”

“This one?” He asked, sliding up onto the roof of what he could only guess was a large warehouse. A few trucks were parked out in front, but he didn’t see any people, nor were any lights on inside. “Are you sure this is it?”

“Mmhm!” She nodded vigorously, though the fear had come back into her eyes. “Please! I can’t leave her behind!”

We’re gonna save your sister, don’t worry.” Sin put her down on the roof next to him, and began searching for some kind of way in. “How did you get out?”

She walked towards one of the building’s edges and peered down. “Stairs! There’s emergency stairs by the windows!”

“Stairs?” He headed off after her. Sure enough, a set of metal stairs snaked down the building’s side. “We can get in through one of those windows!”

The two of them ran down a few flights, only stopping when Elphelt pointed one out. “This one! I think it’s this one!”

“This one?” Sin repeated back. He crouched down to get a good look at it. “I don’t think it’s latched; it should probably just slide open from the bottom.”

“Okay, then let’s-”

“Wait-” He grabbed her hand a half-second before she could slide the window open. “There’s an alarm. It’ll trigger if you pull it open.”

Elphelt recoiled immediately. “How can you tell?”

“I told you I can ride currents, right? I can sense them, too.” He put a hand on the wall next to the window. “Feels like there’s a whole security system set up and wired to the same main hub.” Elphelt was tearing up again in the corner of his eye, and he raised his free hand to assure her. “Don’t worry. Each window has its own sensor alarm. If I can just overload it…”

Sin pressed his eyes shut and willed a bolt of electricity into existence. He slid it between his hands a few times before feeding it into the sensor. After a moment, he felt the current split off between the window and the rest of the system as the wires melted and the plastic exploded.

“Okay, just hold your breath…” He put his hands on the sill. In one motion, he jerked it open and...no alarm.

“Phew…” Elphelt shook her head in momentary relief, before tensing up again. “We have to hurry! We have to hurry!”

She squeezed herself inside before he could even think of doing it himself. Once she had gotten inside, he wormed in after her. “Yeah, of course. But why do we have to hurry? I don’t think anyone’s here.”

The building was as dark inside as it had looked outside. The room they had been dumped into had a high ceiling and a concrete floor, but was nearly empty aside from some storage crates. At least, they looked like storage crates, he couldn’t really tell. From another pocket, he pulled out a rechargeable flashlight, funneled a bit of electricity into it, and switched it on. A narrow slice of light cut through the empty room.

It fell on Elphelt’s horrified face. “El? What’s wrong?”

“We have to hurry.” She spoke in a trembling whisper. “We have to hurry before mother comes home.”

He wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but it seemed important to her. “Okay. We’ll go quickly. What room is your sister in? Can you show me?”

The hallway was slightly lighter, but no less empty. Had everyone gone home already? Then again, he had no idea what this building was for in the first place, maybe there never were people at all. He couldn’t see any security cameras on the ceilings, but even if they were there, he doubted they would be able to see much.

He followed Elphelt down a couple sets of stairs. They both kept their backs pressed to the wall, their footsteps light, and their guard up. Sin glanced over his shoulder every few seconds to be absolutely sure they weren’t being followed.

At one point, Elphelt stopped and held a hand out to him. “I think this is it.”

Compared to the rest of the building, he could sense a veritable feast of electricity coursing back and forth beyond the door they were staring at. It seemed logical that if she was anywhere, it would be in there.

The new room was a stark difference in just how blindingly white it was. Sin had to blink and cover his eyes for a minute while he convinced himself that he was not actually going blind. Elphelt seemed unconcerned with the sudden change, and walked deeper in without him.

“Elphelt! Wait!” He hissed, blinking to clear his vision. The blurry edges eventually smoothed out and sharpened. “Woah…”

Just from a wild guess, it had to be some kind of laboratory. All the glass, fancy equipment, and desks looked like something from the sci-fi shows Sol liked to watch. What kind of science exactly, he had no idea. But it didn’t matter. He had to help Elphelt. Where had she gone to?

“El?” He called out, still trying to keep himself from being too loud. It was a bright white room and she had bright pink hair, how could he not find her in two seconds?

Sin felt his stomach growl as he began to search. Absentmindedly, he pulled out his abandoned licorice and peeled a strand off to eat it. “El?”

He thought he had spotted a flash of pink, but when he approached it, he found a strange pile of pink mush in a large clear dish. He didn’t have the slightest idea of what it was, but it unnerved him. Sin put down his licorice on the tabletop and reached for a glass rod that had been left near it.

What did he think would happen if he prodded it? That was another question he couldn’t answer. It made an odd, gooey noise as the tip sank into its surface. It had looked solid, but the more he pushed into it, the more the glass vanished, even when he thought it would have gone all the way through and come out the other end.

“Sin!”

“Elphelt?” He looked up from his impromptu experiment. Why had he let himself get distracted? Sin pulled the stick back out and set it on the table, and reached for his-

“Where’d I put my licorice…?”

“Sin! Please!”

“Coming, El!” That was more important. He ran off towards her voice. The tables gave way to what he could only describe as giant stove burners built into the ground. “Where are you?”

“Over here!” He saw a hand in the air and headed towards it. It was actually Elphelt that time, instead of some weird arm-monster, thankfully.

“There you are. Jeez, you’re fast-” His eyes went wide.

There was...a girl, suspended in some sort of glassy prison. It hovered over one of the weird floor-burner things, spinning around and around as the room’s lights glinted off it. The girl inside didn’t seem especially bothered by the spinning, or the fact that the ball was barely big enough for her to fit inside. If he didn’t know any better, she looked completely unconscious.

“What the hell?” He looked at his companion. “El, is this her? Is this your sister?”

“Ram…” She said, more to the other girl than to him. Her eyes had gone wet with tears again.

There was an electrical current running under the burner. Without thinking, Sin shoved his hand into it and discharged a bolt of electricity.

He was pretty sure he felt the fluid splattering on his face before he even heard the glass break. The overload of energy had not only shut off whatever the burner was doing, but forced the ball to shatter. He heard Elphelt dive to the ground behind him. Any of the glass that exploded onto him was melted by the heat of his lightning. The smell of ozone and the backlash from overusing his powers was making him dizzy, but Sin tried to focus on what was around him.

Once the chaos had died down, Elphelt crawled back out from the table she’d hidden behind. “Sin?”

“El.” He sent her a dopey, tired smile. “I got it.”

“Ram!!” The girl hurried back over to kneel down by the unconscious body. A few glass shards had nicked their skin, but there was nothing especially worrying. Elphelt seemed to be far more concerned with Ram than she was about her own injuries, anyway. She scooped up the other girl and held her close, placing a hand on her chest as she began murmuring something incomprehensible. Sin watched a faint pink glow envelop her hand and flow into the other’s body.

“Elphelt?” He asked in quiet awe. “You have powers?”

Whatever she was trying to do, it seemed to have worked. As soon as the glow faded, Ram began to rouse.

“Mhh...Elphelt?”

“Ram!” El hugged her sister tightly as her shoulder began trembling. “Oh, you’re awake, you’re awake. I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Elphelt…” She put a hand on her sister’s back and smiled gently. “I’m okay.”

“Th-this is Sin!” When she regained some of her composure, Elphelt pointed at him. “He helped me save you!”

“Yeah. But El, you said we had to hurry, right? We should leave.”

“Oh! We need to leave fast, you’re right.” Elphelt stood back up, but she appeared remarkably calm. In fact, she was smiling. “But we can go even faster with Ram!”

The girl nodded in silent agreement. She looped a hand around her sister’s waist, before beckoning Sin over.

“Faster?” He was confused, but he complied, stepping closer so Ram could grab him by the middle. “I’m not sure what you me-EEEEEAN- !”

The question was answered for him very quickly. His feet were off the ground before he could blink. Ram was shooting off towards the nearest wall, and he had absolutely no way of stopping her.

“Are you insane?!” They were going to fly headfirst into a metal wall! Sin absolutely couldn’t handle hitting something that solid that fast, but he didn’t have any electricity left to try and shock her into dropping him. All he could do was watch.

There was a horrific crunch, and everything went black.

And then blue, as they passed through to the other side without a scratch.

Sin hadn’t realized he was screaming in terror until he stopped. He saw a massive gaping hole in the metal when he turned to look back, but he couldn’t see a single scratch on him, or his questionably-deranged pilot.

“It’s okay, Sin!” Elphelt called. “Ram’s really strong!”

‘Strong’ didn’t seem like a very good explanation on how they hadn’t just smashed their collective heads open, but really, after everything he had been through, it seemed stupid to ask questions.

++++++

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU RAN OFF??”

Sin winced, pulling the receiver away from his ear. “I know, I know, dad, I messed up-”

“MESSED UP??” Ky’s voice shouted back. “You ran off without telling anyone! I thought you had been kidnapped!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” He said. “But I promise I can explain everything. I need a ride back, do you think you can come pick me up over by Bishop Bakery? The place over at the corner of Hansen and 15th?”

“All the way out there?! Sin, what are you doing in the north district in the first place?”

“Uh, that’s a bit of a long story…” He turned to look at his two new companions. Elphelt kicked her bare feet under the bench as she watched the cars go by, and Ramlethal was sitting cross-legged and bobbing her head back and forth to a song coming out of a nearby radio. “A really long story. Why don’t I tell you all about it over leftover cake?”

++++++

A dark shadow slid along sterile white walls, pacing back and forth and back. Immaculately manicured nails drummed against a pale sleeve, the only giveaway against a perfect porcelain mask of calmness.

“So they both ran away…” A melodic voice echoed off the high walls. “I never would have expected such ingenuity from her.”

The room went quiet for a moment. “Still, nothing I can’t handle. A few steps to shuffle around, but in the end, those girls saved me quite a lot of effort. Brought back to the Guardians on a silver platter! What a stroke of luck.”

She paused. “Oh? The boy? Just another pawn, easy enough to handle. His powers are little more than parlor tricks. I’ll have no trouble disposing of him as soon as he becomes a nuisance."

Another pause. Slowly, the porcelain mask began to crack. “Is that so?

In the blink of an eye, she lashed out to grab one of the trailing tubes. It was squeezed in a white-knuckled grip until the flow was dammed. “Now, you aren’t getting all high and mighty on me, are you?” She asked in a sickly-sweet voice, putting the smiling mask back on. “Don’t forget who gave you all of your shiny new toys. If it weren’t for me, you would still be rotting away in that hospital bed, where nobody could hear you.”

She took a moment longer to grab onto the clear plastic, then let it go. “I’m glad you’ve decided to cooperate. I helped you for a reason, you know. I saw the potential you had...Ah, I ramble so much.” She shook her head. “I’ll leave you to your work. And don’t forget to get plenty of rest. We have so much work to do, and so little time…”

The shadow moved away, melting into all the others with the sound of clicking heels. Once it was far, far away, the faint hum of magic sounded. From another pool of darkness, a half-eaten package of red licorice floated into the faint light. A single braid was pulled out of it, and invisible fingers peeled a stand off to carry it into an awaiting mouth. Artificial strawberry, what a peculiar flavor.

“So…” A silent voice echoed in the darkness. “...Sin?”

[junglejelly]

Prompt fill - Xichen Week Day 7(+11): Himbo/Seachen

(On AO3)

One day.

Jiang Cheng just wanted one day of peace and quiet, away from home, away from his responsibilities, away from his idiot brother and his nutcases of a mother and father. Just a few hours alone — him and a boat and nothing else.

Clearly, that was too much to ask for.

His solitary little fishing expedition had lasted exactly two hours, and then everything went to shit. This day off must have been more sorely needed than he thought, because he had fallen asleep right there in his little boat, in the middle of the river, fishing rod hanging out the side and face baking in the morning sun.

As a man who grew up his whole life on a lakeshore, he should have known better — and he did, he did, goddammit, it wasn’t his fault that his stupid body betrayed him and abandoned him to drift on the currents like an absolute amateur, dead to the world, until his boat literally crashed into a clump of rocks.

That was half an hour ago. And now…

Jiang Cheng stomped angrily through the underbrush, slapping away any branches that dared cross his path. The fact that the ground was made up of dead leaves and soft moss only served to make him angrier, as they cushioned his steps so as to render them almost silent and thus robbed him of his god-given right to express his rage via the soles of his boots. Which, incidentally, were damp and squishing with every step. As was the rest of him. Because, as if getting stranded in the middle of a forest tributary wasn’t embarrassing enough, he obviously also had to be pitched overboard at the impact, lose his oars, and get his boat hopelessly stuck on the rocks.

So there he was, half an hour later, trawling the woods in search of a branch thick and sturdy enough to act as a lever and hope it would be sufficient to lift the (thankfully undamaged) boat out of its rocky trap.

He was having no luck so far, though. No likely candidates were presenting themselves on the ground, and any branches he had tried to pry loose from a living tree had resisted his attempts.

His stomach growled.

Well, great. It must be nearing midday. Good thing he’d thought to set up his net before leaving the scene of the disaster. Maybe, he if was lucky, some fish would —

Just then, a twig slapped him in the face, making him yelp and jump back in surprise.

That’s it, he thought vengefully, spitting out a mouthful of leaves, his pulse rocketing up in indescribable fury. Fuck this. FUCK it. I am DONE.

“Fine. FINE! Keep your shitty branches!” he shrilled into the forest.

The forest did not answer.

He whirled around and stomped (soundlessly, goddammit) back the way he came.

As he neared the bank again, a splashing sound  made him quicken his footsteps. Finally, some good fortune! Judging from the noise, he definitely wasn’t going to go hungry in the next few hours.

Actually, it was a bit strange that he could hear it so clearly from all the way over here. Just how big was this fish, exactly?!

He stepped out of the underbrush.

… And stared. That’s it, he thought. I’ve finally lost it. Finally gone off the deep end. It had to happen eventually, right?

In front of him, the mermaid kept struggling.

After a few moments, when Jiang Cheng was sure this hallucination wasn’t going to suddenly disappear, he stepped forward and called out.

“Hey. You there. You, uh… you need a hand?”

The mermaid immediately flailed upright (well… the parts of it that weren’t a giant fish tail, holy fucking shit, anyway) and its eyes snapped to Jiang Cheng’s.

It looked… male? Probably? Hard to tell, with all that hair sticking everywhere and all those… well. Fins. And scales. (Scales! What the fuck!)

Jiang Cheng was spared from his imminent meltdown when the mermaid’s eyes creased in a smile and he (it? did mermaids even have genders?) exhaled in relief. “Oh, would you? I seem to have gotten myself in quite the predicament…”

Yep, definitely male, going by that voice. Jiang Cheng stared some more. Well, if this guy was going to act so chill, who was he to do otherwise?

“Right. Sure. Let me just… Hang on.”

Feeling like he was having an out-of-body experience, Jiang Cheng unsheathed his knife from his belt and approached, before a thought struck him and he stopped abruptly.

“Wait.” The mermaid looked at him questioningly. “Is this a trap? Are you gonna eat me?”

The creature tilted his head. “...Eat you?”

“Or drown me, or abduct me, or whatever,” Jiang Cheng amended hurriedly. Okay, that was dumb, nobody had ever heard of a mermaid eating its victims, but give him a break, he was under a lot of pressure here. He just said the first thing that popped into his mind!

Either way, the mermaid seemed offended. “Drown you? I would never!” He splashed his tail agitatedly. “We’re not savages, you know!”

“Well, forgive me for assuming,” Jiang Cheng muttered. “Never met a fucking mermaid before.”

“Mer, actually,” the mermaid — mer — corrected, politely but firmly. “Merman, if you must.”

“...Right,” Jiang Cheng managed, before he stepped closer (close enough to touch, and to see that tail right there in front of this face, what was his life) and attacked the thick netting with his knife.

It was, sadly, unsalvageable. Jiang Cheng didn’t even want to know how the… merman… had managed to get himself that badly tangled up into it, though it did use to be a good, strong fishing net, wide enough to get a generous catch in one go, if luck was in your favor. As it was, though, it was about to be turned into a pile of frayed rope bits. He could kiss his much-anticipated lunch goodbye, Jiang Cheng thought morosely.

“I was just trying to free the fish inside,” the merman said then, apparently feeling the need to explain himself and unknowingly adding insult to injury. “The poor things had gotten themselves trapped, I just couldn’t leave them that way.”

“Yeah, no, obviously,” Jiang Cheng forced out. “Wouldn’t want them to remain trapped in a fishing net, in case any old fisherman happening nearby could just lift them out and eat them for lunch, huh? No way, that’d be ridiculous,” he added, perhaps a little more hysterically than necessary.

“...”

Jiang Cheng didn’t look up, forcefully focusing on his task, but he could still feel the moment when the penny dropped and the merman gasped in realization.

“Oh! Oh no! Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t — I really… I simply thought —”

Obviously distressed, the merman continued to babble and wring his hands for a while while Jiang Cheng worked on the last few threads digging into his tail.

“Oh, how awful of me! How thoughtless! Of course it was your net, I didn’t realize…” He trailed off for a moment, then seemed to reach a conclusion. “I must make amends,” he declared. “I shall catch you some fish. Bigger fish. Better fish,” he added, nodding to himself.

Jiang Cheng snorted. “Isn’t that, like, fratricide for you?”

The merman looked miffed, but, considering the circumstances, he must have felt like he owed it to Jiang Cheng to tone down the disapproval. “Of course not. We do eat fish, you know.”

“You do? Huh. Well, either way, don’t bother. I don’t think I could even stomach it, at this point,” he replied dejectedly. “I just wanna go home. And then maybe sleep for the next three weeks and hope that’s enough to forget this horrible, horrible day.”

This appeared to distress the merman. “Truly? Then you must allow me to repay you in another way. Anything you wish, that I am able to offer you. Name it, and it is yours.”

Jiang Cheng laughed ruefully. “Can you magically lift my boat from those rocks?”

He couldn’t. There was no way. That boat was well and truly wedged in there, stuck in between jagged boulders and buried in a tangle of driftwood.

“Oh! Of course! I didn’t see it there,” the merman replied happily.

...What? Jiang Cheng checked again, to see if the boat had moved from its previous immovable position.

Nope. Still there.

“Listen,” he started doubtfully, “thanks for offering, but I don’t think anyone can move that thing. I’ll probably have to come back with a few people,” he sighed.

“Nonsense,” the merman smiled. “Just get me out of here, and we’ll have it down in a flash.”

Jiang Cheng still doubted that, but whatever. No skin off his back if the merman tried and failed to rescue his stupid boat from the stupid rocks.

“You’re pretty trusting for a mermaid — sorry, merman — aren’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Our peoples have coexisted peacefully for a very long time, you know. Just because meetings between us are rare, does not mean I should feel threatened by your presence.” With a wide grin, he continued, “Quite the opposite, in fact — I am delighted to have made your acquaintance! Circumstances notwithstanding, of course.”

Jiang Cheng considered that. “You know, I thought Wei Wuxian was shitting me all this time, but…” He observed the merman critically. The pretty face, the silky hair held back by a glistening white ribbon… “Are you… are you that Lan Zhan guy, by any chance?”

The merman perked up. “Wangji? You know my brother?”

“He’s your brother?” Well then. Small world, huh. “I don’t know him, but my brother won’t shut up about him.”

“Really?” The merman clearly found this piece of information fascinating. “Where do they know each other from? Do you know?”

“Sorry, no clue. Honestly, I thought your brother didn’t even exist until a second ago. All I know is that my idiot of a brother claimed to have met a mermaid a few years ago and hasn’t shut up about him since.”

“Merman,” the other corrected again, absently. He seemed to be absorbed by the revelation.

“So?”

The merman snapped to attention again. “Hm?”

“Your name,” Jiang Chengs reminded him pointedly.

“Oh!” He drew himself straighter at that, a sunny smile settling on his features. “My name, yes. My name is Lan Xichen. A pleasure to meet you.” He dipped his head.

Lan Xichen. How… mundane. Boring, even. It was almost offensive, that such an exotic creature could have such an utterly normal name.

The creature in question kept beaming, completely unaware of Jiang Cheng’s uncharitable inner monologue.

Jiang Cheng blinked, slightly perturbed by the (frankly alarming) degree of cheeriness being displayed by the man — Lan Xichen, he reminded himself — while he was still restrained and a total stranger was brandishing a knife near his delicate fish parts.

Whatever. This guy probably wouldn’t live past thirty, with survival instincts like those, but that wasn’t his problem.

“Right. Well, I’m Jiang Cheng.”

At that point, Jiang Cheng’s intense sawing efforts finally paid off, and the last knot fell loose. He carefully picked at the threads digging into the fragile-looking membrane until every last scrap of rope fell away. He had half a second to survey his work — some areas looked a bit bruised, but at least no blood had been drawn — before Lan Xichen retracted his tail out of reach and under the surface. Jiang Cheng thought he could see him swish his tail a few times, cautiously testing it against the current, checking it for injuries. The river water was clean and crystalline there, and the sun danced off the merman’s light, silvery blue scales in undulating patterns.

When Lan Xichen refocused on Jiang Cheng, his smile was blinding. “Thank you! You have my gratitude, and that of the Lan clan.”

“...Yeah,” Jiang Cheng managed, dazed by the combination of glittering scales and beaming smile.

“Well! Let’s get to it, then,” the merman said cheerfully, already swimming away. Jiang Cheng stared.

Now that the urgency was gone, he was struck all over again by how utterly bonkers the whole encounter was. Would people back home even believe him, if he told them about this? Well, Wei Wuxian would, at least, he thought manically, gawking at the delicate fins rippling all along the merman’s tail as he swam away.

Wait. Away? Was he leaving already?

He ripped himself out of his trance just as the merman broke the surface again, long hair plastered to his neck and shoulders, and hoisted himself up on a boulder near the stranded boat.

He hummed thoughtfully, prodding at the thing and testing his grip.

“Wait,” Jiang Cheng started, “be careful, don’t —”

Too late. Lan Xichen gave a mighty heave, and with a grunt, the boat slid free of the rocks.

“— ...hurt yourself,” Jiang Cheng finished lamely, once again reduced to staring idiotically as his boat rocked slightly from the momentum, scraped but unharmed.

Somewhere on his periphery, Lan Xichen laughed brightly. “See? I told you it wouldn’t be an issue.”

“You sure did,” Jiang Cheng replied automatically, still not sure if he should believe his eyes. What, did merpeople have super-strength, or something? Or was he just that dumb, and the damn thing was never actually stuck in the first place?

Oblivious to his distress, the merman slipped back into the water soundlessly and took it upon himself to steer the boat toward the shore where Jiang Cheng was still kneeling like a useless moron.

When it bumped against the grassy bank, Jiang Cheng unfolded himself enough to find the anchor and tie it to a nearby sapling — not exactly secure, but good enough for the few minutes it would take for him to depart. Probably. Hopefully.

“Thanks,” he threw at Lan Xichen. The words felt inadequate, but he wasn’t sure what else he could say.

The merman watched as Jiang Cheng bent to retrieve the sad remains of the fishing net. It was completely ruined, but hey, he wasn’t about to leave it here and litter the woods like a barbarian. He threw the tangled mess into the boat, where it flopped with a pathetic, wet thunk.

A low whine drew his gaze toward Lan Xichen. “I’m sorry,” the merman said in a tortured voice, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy — and wasn’t that a feat, Jiang Cheng thought, considering he was a fucking fish. “I’m so sorry.”

“Are you seriously apologizing to me right now? For a stupid fishing net?” He demanded. “You could have stayed stuck and literally died.”

The merman pouted. “Still.”

“I give up,” Jiang Cheng signed, stepping into the boat to investigate the damage.

No holes, no water accumulated at the bottom, not even any scratches bigger than a hand-span. A miracle, really. Or rather, just compensation for all the rotten luck, Jiang Cheng thought grumpily. As if to prove him right, he also remembered — the oars. Those were still gone. Ugh. Seriously, fuck his life.

As he walked around, he caught the merman tracking his lower body with interest. His legs, he supposed — must look pretty weird to him, really. “So, have you ever actually met another human before?”

“Not up close, no,” Lan Xichen hummed.

“And yet you let me approach you without a single misgiving.”

“Well… yes?”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help it — he dropped his face into his hands. “Oh my god,” he muttered. “You actually have zero sense of self-preservation.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, you weirdo!  Seriously, what the fuck! How are you still alive? How old are you, even?”

“Twenty-nine,” the merman grumbled, sinking lower into the water until his nose barely peeked out over the surface, but otherwise taking the chastisement without protest. Something told Jiang Cheng that this must not be his first time being admonished for this particular reason.

“Twenty-nine! That’s older than I am!” (Barely by two or three years, but Lan Xichen didn’t need to know that…) “Even I know better than to be so trusting, and I’m not the one from a rare species and with a tail so gorgeous people would probably kill to get their hands on it!”

Lan Xichen popped back up. “You think my tail is gorgeous?”

“...!” Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he was about to burst a blood vessel somewhere in his brain. “That is so not the point! Are you kidding me right now? That’s your takeaway from everything I just said?!”

“You think my tail is gorgeous,” Lan Xichen repeated, his lips stretching into a grin so wide Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have hesitated to call it shit-eating on any other face. Not this one, though. It was much too pretty and delicate. “You like my tail,” he said again, looking much too pleased with himself, and then — “Thank you. I like your legs, too. They’re quite nice.”

Jiang Cheng spluttered. “You —!”

The merman laughed, a tinkling, delighted sound, before diving underneath the surface and into a series of gleeful rolls and spins and splashes.

Okay, Jiang Cheng thought resignedly, that’s fucking adorable.

He braced himself for Lan Xichen coming back up, but despite that, he was still slightly stunned by the sheer brilliance of the merman’s smile when he reemerged.

“I like you,” the merman said without preamble, effectively shocking Jiang Cheng into a stupefied stillness and thoroughly frying his brain, all in one fell swoop. “Can we meet again?”

“I — I, I, uh...” Jiang Cheng stuttered.

Lan Xichen just hooked his fingers over the lip of the boat and let himself float there, smiling patiently, his eyes shining with a gentle mirth. Golden, Jiang Cheng thought distractedly. They’re golden. Huh. He hadn’t even noticed that. How did he miss that? And since when was gold even a real eye color that actually existed?

“Jiang Cheng?” the merman prompted gently.

“What?” Jiang Cheng startled. “Yes? I mean… What?”

“Can I see you again?” he asked once more, hopefully.

“...”

Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he was dreaming, at this point — but in that case, he figured, might as well go all the way, huh? What could it hurt? Nothing, that’s what.

“...Sure. Yes. We can… do that. If you want.”

Lan Xichen’s soft smile grew into a full-blown grin again, his eyes almost disappearing into happy creases.

“But,” Jiang Cheng continued, trying to distract himself from the sight, “for that to happen, I’m going to need to go home first. Which is not looking likely right now,” he finished ruefully.

The merman tilted his head. “Why is that? Is there something wrong with your boat?” He drew himself from the edge and gave the boat an appraising look — not that he was likely to know anything about them, Jiang Cheng surmised. Silly fish.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he sighed, “except that it doesn’t have any oars. They got lost when I hit the rocks earlier. Probably floating somewhere far away downstream.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well…” Lan Xichen hedged.

Jiang Cheng met his gaze. “What? You got another miracle up your sleeve?”

“Not a miracle, but…” Lan Xichen diverted his glance sideways, towards a fallen tree resting on the bank. Its long-dead branches hung halfway into the water, gnarled and sturdy against the current. “Would one of these do?”

“Already tried those,” Jiang Cheng replied. “Don’t waste your time. They’re way, way too thick, no one could possibly —”

— aaand there he went again. Oh well, Jiang Cheng decided, settling in for the show. Maybe at least this way he could get revenge for earlier. He would sit there and point and laugh at Lan Xichen’s attempts, because there was no way in hell —

CRAAAAACK!

Jiang Cheng knew his eyes were bugging out of his head, okay, he knew, but listen. Listen. This time, he was positive he couldn’t have made a mistake, like he might have with the boat. This time, the branches were obviously enormous and obviously very, very securely attached to their trunk. He had checked. He had gone and touched those branches with his own two hands, and he knew —

Lan Xichen came back then, and lifted the thing out of the water to present it for his appraisal. A huge fucking tree limb, the straightest and smoothest he could probably find on that dead tree, which he had just snapped clean off with his bare fucking hands. And was now bringing to Jiang Cheng, like a proud puppy with a ridiculously oversized stick. Seriously. Seriously.

Jiang Cheng wanted to scream.

Instead, he very carefully grabbed the branch to deposit it inside the boat. Damn, but that thing was huge.

“So, is this one enough, or do you need anoth—”

“Shut up.”

Lan Xichen’s mouth snapped shut.

Jiang Cheng held out his hand imperiously. “Give me your arm.”

The merman raised wide eyes toward Jiang Cheng, a confused little frown pulling at his lips. “What —”

“I said,” Jiang Cheng growled, “give. Me. Your. Arm.” When the merman just kept staring at him uncertainly, he burst out, “Oh my god, you ridiculous dolphin, just come here already!”

Apparently deciding to trust Jiang Cheng despite his obvious bout of temporary insanity, Lan Xichen slowly approached and extended one of his arms towards him. With a wary look, he mumbled, “Dolphins aren’t even —”

“Shut up! I know they’re not,” Jiang Cheng snapped. With a tug, Lan Xichen’s arm was promptly brought over the edge of the boat for closer inspection, forcing the merman to grab the rim with his other hand for balance. He took the rough treatment without complaint, looking perplexed.

Jianf Cheng started with his hand, working his way up to the shoulder progressively. He carefully examined the webbed fingers (hadn’t noticed that, either), then poked and prodded at the wrist (all normal, same rotation as a human’s), the forearm (pale and muscular), the elbow (yup, just a regular elbow), the upper arm… Hm. Well, outside of it being pretty thickly toned, he couldn’t find anything. Why couldn’t he find anything? There was clearly something funky going on with this man’s arms, because no one, human or merman, should be able to win a contest with a boulder or rip an entire trunk off of a —

The merman cleared his throat.

It was then that Jiang Cheng realized with horror that he’d been… he’d been groping the poor man for several minutes, holding him in place and squeezing his biceps and just generally pawing at him like —

He dropped the limb immediately, feeling his face heat up with a vengeance and trying to hide it behind a scowl. “What?” he barked. “Don’t look at me like that! You’re the one who’s freaky!”

Unruffled, Lan Xichen offered, “Perhaps if you told me what you were looking for…?”

Jiang Cheng gaped. “Well, your —!” He paused, then flailed in the general direction of the fallen tree. “That thing you did! Twice! With the tree, and the… the rocks!”

“Ah,” the merman nodded in dawning comprehension. “Yes. It has been said that we of the Lan family have been blessed with unusual arm strength.”

“Excuse me, ‘unusual’? More like fucking monstrous, let’s be honest here — but I, uh, mean that in the best way, of course,” he amended hurriedly when Lan Xichen sent him a stricken look.

The merman lowered his gaze, lips wobbling.

Ah, shit. Goddammit, Jiang Cheng had really stepped in it this time. Calling a merman a monster, not even two seconds after molesting him, and after he’d been so disgustingly nice to him, too? Pathetic. Disgraceful. Despicable.

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry,” he tried.

A tiny sniff, barely audible behind the curtain of hair that fell before the merman’s bowed face.

Oh, no. “Lan Xichen, please,” Jiang Cheng coaxed, quickly getting desperate. “I’m sorry, I promise that’s not… It’s not what I…” He scrubbed his hands over his face “Ugh! I don’t know what to say,” he lamented.

Lan Xichen peeked at him shyly from behind his sleek tresses. “Maybe if you gave me another compliment…?”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth, the words already halfway out, before he snapped it shut and squinted suspiciously at the merman.

He braced his hands on the edge of the boat and leaned even closer.

There! That glimmer in his eye, that was —!

“Lan Xichen! Are you screwing with me right now?!”

But the merman was incapable of answering, already howling with laughter, his façade collapsing in less than an instant. Jiang Cheng stared. Lan Xichen’s laugh was loud and uncontrolled, little snorts slipping out now and then, though he tried to hide them behind his slightly webbed hands — all for naught, as the crinkle in his eyes betrayed his glee with no hope of concealment.

Jiang Cheng was mesmerized. As Lan Xichen’s laughter settled into quieter giggles, he felt something take flight in his heart, or in his gut, or maybe in some other, equally ridiculous internal organ with asinine romantic connotations.

Whatever.

He felt like he should be mad — the little shit had emotionally manipulated him just now, and so skillfully too! He’d bought into his charade hook, line and sinker (ha!) — but no. He felt… proud, maybe? Fond, definitely. And awed, maybe, by this creature, by this meeting, by the improbable set or circumstances that had led to it.

He shook his head, his lips tugging up in a helpless smile, never taking his eyes off the merman now clinging to his boat once more.

“Lan Xichen,” he breathed, almost reverently, “you are something else.”

When the merman reached for his hand, he didn’t offer any resistance (turnabout was fair play, after all). Lan Xichen laced their fingers together over the edge of the boat, right in the middle, like a symbol. “But you mean that in the best way, of course,” he stated solemnly, his voice wobbling with yet more laughter.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that escaped him then, or the grin that settled over his face. He took a moment to marvel at that, and squeezed the hand clutching his. “Of course. The very best.”

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: Sea shells and all the things he left behind

Summary: Dick Grayson didn’t go to the beach. He didn’t watch any ocean documentaries, he didn’t talk about his childhood and he most certainly did not work with the mers at Blüdhaven’s Ocean Life Rehabilitation center. And then they brought in a kid clinging to an injured mer and Dick was 9 years old again and drowning.

AN: @thursday-batfam-prompts Prompt 7: Mermaid/Siren. Inspired by Gifts From the Sea.” Please go read that story!!

Dick already knew it was going to be a bad day when he got up. His back hurt and his throat itched and he had the taste of seawater on his tongue, though maybe that was just residue from his tears. Dick couldn’t recall what he had dreamed, but when he closed his eyes, orange flashed in front of his vision.

It was better if he didn’t remember.

Dick contemplated staying home sick, playing catch up with another happy kids’ show he had missed out on when he noticed his phone vibrating. It was nothing new for Dick to wake up to a hundred messages or more - the benefits of being friends with a lot of people who kept odd hours.

To his surprise though, it wasn’t the Titanic Idiots group chat blowing up his phone, just Wally. He was getting a new message every second - either Wally was taking his break way too early or they had an emergency at work.

Dick’s shift didn’t even start until twelve and it was what - nine in the morning?

Instead of bothering with reading through all of the messages, he just called Wally. The phone rang only once and his friend already answered.

“Dick! Holy fuck, you need to get your ass here like immediately we’re way too understaffed and nobody knows what we’re supposed to be doing Roy already called up OLRC main office this is why you don’t let a bunch of volunteers and marine life bachelors work on their own without any superior supervision of you know the people who have actually been trained to deal with-”

“Wally. Breathe. Calm down. What’s going on?”

Dick could hear Wally take a few deep breaths before he continued speaking, only a bit slower than before. At least Dick could make out where a sentence started and where it ended.

“We’ve got an emergency. A kid showed up with an unidentified and severely injured mer today. We think it’s a mermaid, but it doesn’t have a tag from what we can tell, and it’s super hostile, well as hostile as mermaids get given they’re the shiest mers, so we can’t get near it. The kid won’t speak either and separating the two already probably broke Donna’s arm. We need some more manpower here.”

Dick couldn’t wait to eat breakfast. Nutella, marmalade, honey - whatever would get rid off the salty taste on his tongue.

“Wally, I don’t work with the mers, you know that.”

“Yes, Dick, and I’m sorry, but you’re the only guy we’ve got.”

Somehow Wally managed to ooze his frustration and worry over the phone. “Please, Dick. You can look after the kid in the meanwhile and I can help check on the mer, but we need someone here.”

Dick’s premonition proved to be true. He should have just stayed in bed. He marched into the direction of his wardrobe, checking if he still had any clean clothes left.

“Give me thirty minutes to get dressed and grab breakfast and I’ll be there.”

“Thank you so, so much. I owe you.”

Wally’s evident relief made Dick smile. The redhead was Dick’s oldest friend. He had helped Dick find his place in a world he hardly understood, willingly shared a dorm with the resident weird kid and had managed to get Dick this summer job in-between college classes, if anything, Dick owed him.

“No prob, Wally,” Dick replied and ended the call.

He quickly grabbed an old pair of jeans and a shirt he was pretty sure was one of Roy’s hand-me-downs. Their small kitchen was always stuffed full due to Wally’s metabolic disorder, so it didn’t take much time to find something sugary and eatable that would still fill him up and prepare him for the stress that was to come.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing in front of Blüdhaven’s Ocean Life Rehabilitation Center. Dick didn’t even study marine biology. He was taking theatre classes, set on his goal to be as far away from the ocean as he could possibly be.

Yeah, that had turned out exactly like planned.

Not trusting himself to not stall any longer, Dick stepped into the strangely deserted building and headed straight to the part where they kept the mers. Before he could even reach the actual aquarium though, Wally already caught him.

His friend looked way too tired for someone who started his shift two hours ago. He stood right next to a couple boxes, his right hand holding an energy drink while his left was occupied with a donut.

“Dick!” Wally exclaimed and quickly swallowed the food in his mouth. “You’re here!”

Dick just rolled his eyes and focused on everything but his stomachs doing flips. “You did ask me to come. So where’s the kid?”

“In the office right here,” Wally said and pointed at the closed door behind him. “The kid’s not speaking at all. We’ve tried every language we’ve got between all of us, even some clumsy ASL, but the kid won’t react. Wouldn’t even look us in the eyes. And since he still has a knife, we don’t want to surprise him. CPS has already been notified, but they’re overrun as always and won’t come until the afternoon, but maybe you can get him to talk? You’re great with kids.”

That was an exaggeration. Dick was good with kids because he could keep them entertained and tell them the stories that captivated them. Generally speaking, that included kids up to age twelve. Everyone above that? Nope, not Dick’s age group.

Dick sighed. “I mean, I can try. Just don’t expect much, alright?”

Wally smiled, exhausted, but as bright as always. “I’m not expecting a miracle, Boy Wonder. Let me just finish and I’ll introduce you. If he doesn’t start screaming on sight seeing the terrible bags under your eyes-”

“And whose fault are they?”

“- then I’ll leave you two and look after the mer.”

Wally inhaled the remains of his snack and wiped his mouth clean on his jacket. Then he slowly opened the door.

The office had been pretty much emptied. Dick recalled that this was Dinah’s office/private break room, but she was on vacation until the end of the month. All of her belongings must be in the boxes.

When Dick and Wally entered the room and the kid looked up, measuring him. The boy had dark hair and his skin was quite pale by comparison. His blue eyes were sharp, evaluating. He definitely wasn’t keeping silent because of shock then.

The boy was dressed almost normally, aside from the old blood sticking to his hoodie. He wore jeans that had obviously been wet in the past hours. No wonder if he had shown up with a mer - Dick should have asked Wally how that had gone down.

“Hey, kiddo,” Wally said. “This is my friend Dick. He’ll stay here with you now if that’s alright?”

The kid didn’t react. He kept staring at Dick and playing around with his knife and the cord of his necklace. Dick studied it and almost took a step back when he realized what he was looking at.

Shark teeth, dark black scales, corals, fish bones, and two shells.

The necklace was identical to the one Dick had stuffed in the darkest corner of his dresser, except Dick’s had seven shells more, one for each year he had survived. Dick had almost thrown it out in anger multiple times, but in the end, he’d always kept it and felt guilty for even thinking of destroying it.

Suddenly, the puzzle pieces slotted together smoothly.

Dick had grown up multilingual until his parents had died. And then, after, he’d spoken only some English. His primary language had been his adopted father’s language made up of clicks and snarls.

“Who are you?” Dick asked, his throat almost hurting from the sounds, and finally, the boy paid attention.

His expression was a stunned one, like Dick’s question had torn down a wall so high you couldn’t even imagine anything lingering behind it.

While Wally looked at Dick like he was crazy, the kid already had tears forming in his eyes.

“You speak!” The kid still had a strong English accent, he couldn’t have been learning to speak for long.

“I was taught, like you,” Dick replied. “What are you doing here.”

“You speak,” the kid only repeated, hope almost choking him. “You’re human and you speak! You’re eldest-who-can-fly-on-land.”

Now it was Dick’s turn to be stunned while the kid started crying for real.

“You’ve got to help us. He’d got hurt badly after missed-love-bright-as-the-sun died and then venom-in-his-blood came and he said not to come but I didn’t know who else to turn to-”

“He-” Dick’s eyes went wide and he jumped up. “Come with me, now.”

“Dick, what the hell is going on?” Wally shouted as Dick turned into the other direction and leaped into a sprint.

He and the kid quickly followed him, but all Dick could think of that they were going to be too late, that he wasn’t going to make it-

“Dick, what are you doing!?”

“Siren!” Dick shouted back. “The mer is a siren, not a mermaid!”

Behind him, Dick could hear Wally starting to curse. None of the people on shift were actually experienced in handling anything above a selkie. And if the kid was as close to Bruce at the necklace suggested, then he wouldn’t just stop at a broken arm, no matter how injured he was.

Dick pretty much kicked the door to the aquarium open, and not a minute too late. Roy had just fallen into the water and a massive dark body was pulling at his clothes while the others desperately tried to reach for him.

Why had nobody broken the cabinet with the tranquilizers?

Dick didn’t hesitate, he didn’t even bother to kick off his shoes or get rid off his jacket, he just jumped right into the water, followed by the hysteric sounds of his friends.

“Where is my son!?”

The water engulfed him and Dick is seventeen and leaving the next, fifteen and on the surface for the first time in years, thirteen and complaining he’s slower than Kori and Babs, eleven and falling asleep on scales, nine years old and drowning alongside his parents, except he got saved by-

“Bruce!”

The siren suddenly let go of Roy, who struggled to get back to the surface and just stared at Dick like he couldn’t quite believe he was there.

“Dick,” Bruce said. “My eldest-who-can-fly.”

The name Bruce had given him when he’d taken Dick into his family had changed. Somehow that was still what caught him off-guard the most.

Dick had left screaming, spitting poison, but he was the-eldest now, not the-reject-who-left though that opened a whole other can of worms.

Bruce looked less like the predator he had just moments before. His eyes were still dark and cat-like, and his massive black tail with razor-sharp fins lingered in the deep of the pool. He had more scars than years ago, never mind the many festering lacerations they needed to take care off as soon as possible.

But Bruce’s expression was made up of terrified hopefulness. Dick was glad he didn’t have a mirror. He didn’t want to know what face he was making, but going by the sound of roaring waves in his ears, he was close to heartbreak as well.

“Hi, Dad.”

The words were much too weak for what he wanted to say but-

They’d have to be enough for now. 

[tss-ragnarok-au]

Chapter 1

Warnings: Blood, takes place just after a traumatic event, a few death mentions and jokes about dying, swearing

Word Count: 1,532 (I’m trying to keep the chapters relatively short so I can get them out on a regular basis)

Author’s Note: This has been a long time in the works. I’m kind of emotional sharing it, but don’t mind me. Welcome, and enjoy!

Generally, when your best friend shows up at your door, you don’t want them to be covered in blood. With this in mind, you can imagine that Logan was not entirely pleased when his best (and only) friend appeared exactly as such.

Up until that point, it had been your average apocalyptic Tuesday. Logan had been following his to-do list, which was most likely the only thing keeping him sane on his own. His family had decided to follow the theory most widespread on the internet and split up. If there weren’t so many humans in one place, maybe all the monsters wouldn’t notice them. This theory wasn’t scientifically proven, but then again, neither were any of the others. Scientists didn’t exactly have the… resources required to perform such experiments, and, because all of the mail had been shut down, they couldn’t keep accurate records of who lived, who died, or how. But with the internet mostly still up and running the Ateneos had scraped up the data from the most reliable resources they could find and run with it. Literally. 

Logan’s father took his little sister Mercedes about a few thousand miles Northwest, his mother had taken Logan’s abuelo South, and last he’d heard they were still moving until they found someplace safe to settle for a while. Logan had been left to look after their little house. His family had figured they were going to give him a little more independence when he turned seventeen anyways. Odd how such things tend to work out. The airlines shut down the day after his birthday, so his family had stayed until the last moment they could, which ended up being around 10:47 a.m. and left him there. Alone. But it was okay, because Logan had his log and his to-do list.

Tuesday, July 2nd: To Do

Wake up (approximately 6 am)

Eat breakfast (1 slice of toast, 1 egg)

Read (at least 2 chapters, no more than 4 chapters)

Call Mami (remember to ask about her whereabouts, location apps still down)

Eat lunch (one serving, no matter what)

Paint (use moderation)

Send Mercedes a picture (yourself and/or the painting) and make sure her mental state isn’t suffering too much

Update Log

Check in with Patton (via text, see if he can come over tomorrow)

Practice Archery (set the net up first so you don’t lose arrows, be alert and aware of your surroundings)

Eat dinner (again, one serving exactly)

Research/practice knife techniques

Go to bed (approximately 10 pm, no bluelight after 9:30)

This had been going perfectly right up until it hadn’t. He’d gotten out the bread and peanut butter and had the raspberry jelly in his hand when a quick, loud knocking interrupted his lunch preparations. He held the jelly jar at an angle from which it could be easily used as a weapon and warily unlocked and opened the door. 

That is when Logan Ateneo found what appeared to be his best friend splattered with something red that was most certainly not his beloved Crofters. 

“Patton?” he asked warily. His friend’s eyes and smile were just a bit too wide and his skin was a bit too pale.

“Uhh..Last summer we rode the ferris wheel, I asked you what a cephalopod was and you told me all about them. When we were at the top you almost dropped your phone showing me a video of a mimic octopus.”  

Logan didn’t have the best memory and Patton was speaking irregularly fast, but the absolute terror of his precious cell phone dancing nearly out of his grasp over a 213 foot drop, as well as the opportunity to talk about his beloved cephalopods had burned the incident into his mind. He stepped aside and let Patton in. One day Logan was sure he was going to wholeheartedly believe his friend was a shapeshifter or the other way around because his memory was such absolute garbage. That was how he would die. He opened his mouth to ask about… well, about a lot of things, but Pat spoke before he got the chance.

“I’m really out of it, and I can’t tell if I’m about to cry or puke but oh lord, one or the other is coming so I’m gonna try to get this all out before it happens. Okay? Okay. So I think maybe zombies or like, beta mer-zombies just attacked my house, I have no freaking clue where most of my family is, I’m like 90% positive they’re coming this way next, uhh I’m pretty sure you can drive and I can’t, and we gotta get out of here.” 

Logan took a moment to mentally unpack all of that. 

“Wait, the zombie creatures are coming now? As in at this exact moment?”

“Pretty sure”

“Then could you please explain why we’re still standing here?” Before waiting for an answer, Logan grabbed his dopey friend by the arm, making a mental note to figure out why he was acting this way later, and pulled him along as they ran to the car. 

He couldn’t see anything as he rushed past, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He shoved Patton haphazardly into the passenger’s side before nearly breaking his own leg slamming the door as he slid into the driver’s seat. He reached over and buckled Patton’s seatbelt after his own as his friend stayed frozen in place. A distant growl made the hair on the back of Logan’s neck stand up. He hit the gas and everything from there was more or less a blur. 

***

It wasn’t until they were on the highway that Logan calmed down a little and Patton brought up an excellent question.

“Hey Lo… Where are we going?” 

Logan hadn’t thought that far ahead. He didn’t dare pull over but he let himself drop his laser focus for a moment to think about the answer. He was silent for a while. Then, a very… interesting idea came to mind.

“My uncle’s cabin in the woods.”

“That sounds like we’re gonna die.”

“Odds are, we’re going to die anyways. I am entirely serious. It’s out in the middle of nowhere, fairly distant, there are plenty of resources in a pinch, my uncle left a long time ago, and the last person there was his ex, who dropped off the map a few months ago.”

“You do realize how ominous that is, right?”

“Do you keep in touch with your relatives’ ex-boyfriends?”

“Eh….” It was clear Patton had drifted off again. Logan switched lanes to head towards the cabin, but his mind was working much faster, trying to figure out if Patton had some kind of rune cast on him, or if he’d perhaps suffered head trauma, or-

“Oh. I see.” Logan realized. He waited a moment for a response. His friend continued to stare out the car window, his fingers twitching in half-minded fidgets. “Pat?”

“What?”

“You’re in shock.”

“Huh. Wait-I thought…” The gears started turning in his head, “I thought you got that from wearing socks on the carpet…”

Patton then proceeded to burst into tears.

With the reading Logan had done on psychological shock, that was to be expected, as all of Patton’s emotions that he’d disconnected from had come flooding back with the realization. This information did not, however, give Logan an adequate way to deal with the situation. 

He settled for awkwardly patting his friend’s hand and respectfully looking away. 

***

Patton’s crying slowed to a sniffle just as Logan pulled the car from the paved road to a bumpy dirt path.  They sat in silence for a while, bouncing over the rocks. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t lie to me.” 

“Shit happened, I don’t think I can process it right now.”

This caused Logan more concern than the crying. Patton only swore when he really didn’t feel good.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Patton didn’t respond.

“Is,” Logan became quieter as he began to realize the severity of what had happened at Patton’s house, “Is everyone okay?”

Patton bit his lip and slowly shook his head. He hesitantly held out his hand, and Logan laced his fingers through Pat’s. 

Squeeze.

They stayed like that until the gravel driveway crunched under their wheels. It led to what appeared to be a very nice cabin that had been left to suffer by Nature’s hand. Ivy covered one wall entirely, and had begun creeping across the front and back of the house. Moss crawled over the roof. Logan could spot at least three bird’s nests in various nooks and crannies. And that was just the outside. 

Patton stared at it for a moment. Just as Logan thought he was about to remark something about the beauty of nature reclaiming and building upon what humanity had made of it he said,

“How fricking rich was your uncle? This thing is huge.”

Logan had just opened his mouth to respond when a howl swept through the trees, sending a shiver through his entire body.

“Perhaps, discussing things inside would be better?”

“I always have wanted to die in a cabin in the woods!”

.

Asks are now open for Logan and Patton!

[nodesiretogrowup]

alrighty, play-by-play recap time!

“A shining civilization, until it fell...INTO THE SEA.” Something about that line/delivery makes me laugh

Kind of wish we had seen them solve to clues to Mervana

Why was this Huey’s quest? He doesn’t end up doing much. Did he chose this adventure?

“I like them.” “We know, Webby.”

Scrooge and Huey nerding out together is ADORABLE

Louie is already done

“Cool, now there’s two people who want to put us in constant danger.” Donald understands your pain. We need an episode focusing on Louie and Donald

I NEED to know why Della hates fish 

Why is Della piloting the sub if she hates the ocean? I feel like Donald would be more qualified

“HEY, KNOCK IT OFF!” That was SUCH a sibling moment

LP isn’t here because he needed a break after last week’s episode OR something went down when he was with Oceanika and he can’t be in the ocean for some reason

Louie knows how this shit goes down

So according to Louie’s chart; Huey has been sacrificed the less with 10, then Webby with 15, Louie at 23, and Dewey at 63 

“DEWEY’S ON TOP!” Sweetie, that’s not a good thing. How many of those times do you think LP saved him?

I bet Donald had/has a tally sheet too

Webby is PRECIOUS

“Life’s not some fairytale filled with happy endings and...” “MERMAIDS!” Webby is SUCH A MOOD this episode 

It’s so cute how in AWE all of them are...

Except for Della

One more Della moment in the theme

Poor Donald

Those things in Aletheia’s headband look like eyes and I can’t unsee it. Also, STARFIRE THE MERMAID!

BEAST BOY THE MERMAN! He pretty much looks like a duck/mermaid version of Greg. It’s great

“So, speaking as a mermaid, WHAT’S IT LIKE TO ACHIEVE MY DREAM?!” WEBBY IS ME

I know the “suffering builds character” line is a joke, but it rubs me the wrong way

How is Scrooge’s hat not floating away?

Della’s reaction to saying fish is how I feel about eating fish

“Look at this stuff, isn’t neat!” THAT’S MY GIRL! I bet The Little Mermaid is Webby’s favorite Disney movie

This was much less dangerous than the last time Webby played hacky sack

Scrooge 100% DONE when they say that he’ll have to give up his worldly possessions

 THERE’S THAT ONE MERMAID THAT LOOKS LIKE GOSALYN! I’m gonna pretend they are distantly related

Why is Honestus’ statue so BEEFY?

 Louie is ALREADY calling bullshit

NO ONE MAY TOUCH THE DONALD

“Wow, a laid-back society where everything is free. Sounds PERFECT for you!” “It’s too perfect.” I love when Louie and Webby are paired off. They have pretty much opposite views of the world

“IT’S. A. TRAP! And take it down a notch, Beakley!” “Sorry, I was trying to drown out your nonsense.” You’re harshing her vibes, bro

 “These hippies are harmless!”

Donald playing drums is adorable

“Operation Flower Power was...groovy.” FIRST THAT SUMMER IN PARAGUAY, NOW THIS! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS! Beakley probably has fucked as many people as Launchpad, possibly more

The face Louie makes after Beakley leaves is great. He knows Beakley fucks and does NOT want to think about that

I want to know all the warnings on the cave. My favorite of the ones I could see was NAAAAAHHHHHHH!

“Those MER-MURDERERS” Alliteration is fun, kids!

Digging the more proactive Louie, even if it is just to keep himself from dying

Donald is digging the vibe and Dewey is SO FOCUSED on playing the drums

FUCK YEAH, ARTS AND CRAFTS! Dewey was like “MY TIME HAS COME!” And Donald seemed pretty happy about arts and crafts too

Donald was TOTALLY checking out his own ass

Dewey is SO FOCUSED. Arts and crafts are SERIOUS BUSINESS

He looks SO PISSED when Scrooge takes the tail

Why do they have toxic markers? Hell, where did they even GET those markers?

“They’re ALL our markers” That face she makes is great

Dude, the harp fucking DRAGGED Honestus! We stan!

“It’s a beautiful castle made of coral and shells...” Webby, those are ruins

I knew that fish monster was Honestus. He had a crown and everything. Also they call him a sea serpent but nothing about him is serpent-like 

“This is a chase” Is that really any better than a trap?

BEAKLEY TO THE RESCUE

“I’ve never been happier to see an adult!”

“Same thing we are-snoopin”

Webby ended up being spot on that the Mervanans had no idea what was really going on

“Something is going on here.” And Louie raises his arms in victory

I want more Beakley and Louie episodes. They are both cynical but deal with it in different ways, especially when it comes to Webby. Plus Louie has a unique position when he’s been the one that had secrets kept from him

“Her optimism is her strength!” “You can’t hide the truth from her forever!” “I kept her in a mansion for a decade, that worked out pretty well.” I don’t know why but this reminds me of how the Crystal Gems and Greg dealt with Steven

I love that Huey’s tail has the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook logo on it

Me and my sister agreed that Donald’s tail looks like an Easter egg

DONALD IS OUR LORD AND SAVIOR! NAMASTE, MY FRIEND

Dewey has flames on his tail because of course he does

“Man, these are hard to get around in. And off I go.” He just accepts that he’s falling

I’m with Louie, FUCK STAIRS

Della has that dumbass energy. We stan. Also, she and LP need to hang out. I feel like they’d somehow both lose in a game of Go Fish. Stupid, beautiful pilots :’)

“MOM LOOK AT MY SUPER COOL FINS!” “*gags* I have no family.”

CAPITALISTS DO NOT GET TO KNOW TRUE PEACE

Donald and Huey nodding after Aletheia calls Scrooge a judgemental boomer, beautiful

“I don’t want inner-truth, I want outer harp!” That’s a good line

“Scrooge, back to the arts and crafts section!” And then his face! Golden!

Louie clinging to Beakley’s arm is so cute

I LOVE YOU, HARP LADY!

“But I only tell the truth, a thing the merpeople used to value.” I feel like that could apply to other (current) situations

Whenever Honestus speaks during the song I lol

Also, what hard work was going on above the sea? Was there like a war or something? I need more!

I think the Harp and Honestus were a thing at one point

If the merpeople become more monstrous the longer they stay in the water, why are the ones who have lived their ENTIRE LIVES in the ocean still humanoid? How long was he gone? How many generations have come and gone? Why didn’t he age? I NEED MORE INFORMATION

Poor Webby. The person she trusted the most has been lying to her for who knows how long! I think we know what Webby’s arc for the season will involve

Louie does NOT want to be in the middle of this

MER-MURDER-MAIDS!

I want to PERSONALLY THANK the GENIUS that had David Tennant use hippie slang. You did the lord’s work

The face Scrooge makes when he thinks that they are gonna take his money is PRICELESS

I feel bad for the Mervanans. They were left to fend for themselves. They did pretty good for themselves all things considered but still

Della taking baby steps only to be pushed right back into her comfort zone, I felt that

She’s just like, nope

“Gotta get harp down. Gotta save family. Maybe sell the harp later.” The kid has his priorities straight

The way the Harp acts when Beakley picks her up is a mood and I ship it

“Is that what I sound like? Oh, boy.” I love the way Bobby says “oh, boy”

“We would never!” “Yeah, we’re vegan.” At least these merpeople actually flat out say they don’t eat fish, unlike other merpeople who act all high and mighty even though they probably eat fish too

I love the one dude who just kinda flaps out of the water

“I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS.” “CORRECT!”

DUDE, DON’T INSULT THE MAN’S COOKING SKILLS! IT’S YZMA, KRONK, AND THE SPINACH PUFFS ALL OVER AGAIN!

I think Donald is just always angry ala Bruce Banner

Donald is me when someone says the wrong thing to me on an already shitty day

He just slings Dewey over his shoulder and drags Huey. I feel like a family meeting about chili is in their future. Though the Harp didn’t say whether or not Dewey was lying so...

“Our king returned and tried to eat us.” In the words of Zuko; that’s rough, buddy

“We’re all monsters on the inside.” “WE ARE?! GET IT OUT OF ME!” Vero is having a very bad day

“Mervana isn’t a place. It’s, oh boy, it’s in your heart!”

Louie and Webby make each other better and that’s what’s great about their team ups

“We need your inner-truths to move from your hearts to YOUR FISTS!” WEBBY WILL FUCK YOU UP

“WELCOME TO MERVANA” BITCH!

Poor Harp. It’s not her fault that she only has one setting

I WANNA RIDE A MERMAID! No, not that way! ok maybe that way too

Webby’s eyes sparkle when the merpeople get to land

DROP ON THE DECK AND FLOP LIKE A FISH

“TIME TO SEND THIS FISH BACK TO SCHOOL!” Della knows how to one-liner

Her Naruto run is great. I bet she’s been watching it with the kids

Della is gonna wash her leg SO HARD after that

I don’t think Honestus should have gotten off so easy. The dude’s a dick who only cares about himself. I know that wouldn’t mesh with the moral of the episode, but I still hate him

Della looks so fucking confused, like LP usually does. THEY ARE MEANT TO BE BESTIES

Dewey kept his tail. So cute!

“She’s kinda harshin’ my vibe.” I know, my dude, I know

“And it’s finally where it belongs.” “Telling shiftless hippies to get a job!” Scrooge is harshin’ my vibe. Stupid capitalist

The head kiss Beakley gives Webby GIVES ME LIFE! SO PURE

Well of course she’s fibbing! Beakley is/was a SPY! Her job was secret keeping!

I really enjoyed this episode. I, like Webby, ADORE mermaids so I wasn’t gonna complain there. I liked that the merpeople weren’t actually evil because that would have been predictable af. It really ties in with the legacy theme of this season. Just because the people who came before you were jerks doesn’t mean you have to be. I think I enjoyed the other episodes a bit more but that’s probably because they were a bit more focused on a single character and only introduced a few new characters. I give it an 8/10, not enough Launchpad and not NEARLY ENOUGH fish puns

[bing-fucker]

Chase brings his kids fishing bc that's a Dad Thing to do and imagine his surprise when he accidentally reels in a whole ass merman with a bright green tail and hair. Didn't know they lived in lakes, but this one sure does. (His ex-wife thinks the kids are just making up a story when she goes to pick them up and meets Chase's new boyfriend with bright green hair)

I've never had a dad so I honestly assumed dads taking their kids fishing was just a thing in TV shows, but I'm gonna trust you on this, kitten-

Grayson is the canon name of his younger son, while Trey is said (by the wiki) to maybe be the name of Chase's older son. Trey is eight, Grayson is five. Also I adore that Chase canonically calls his kids "sweetie" and so now he has a million and one sweet nicknames for his kids and you all can suffer-

Warnings: Fishing accidents, mentions of blood, light monster fucking, merman anatomy that I made up on the fly. As always, ask me to add any necessary warnings!

Chase was always grateful to get to spend time with his kids. Being away from them was one of the hardest things Chase had ever had to deal with. But luckily, it was summer break and Stacy was feeling generous. Chase had a whole two weeks with the kids before he had to give them back, and they were just as excited as Chase was. So Chase did exactly what he'd always wanted to do with his own dad- he rented a cabin out in the countryside by a lake, and he brought the kids.

They'd been there for three days and, for being raised by their spoil-prone mother (it was adorable, really. Stacy loved spoiling the boys in the best ways), Grayson and Trey were beyond overjoyed about the cabin. The presence of wifi probably helped that, but Chase liked to think that it was because they took after him and his wilderness exploring ways.

Breakfast went (mostly) beautifully, even though it was about two hours earlier than the boys were used to getting up. But Chase was determined. If they wanted to get good enough fish to be able to have them for dinner, they needed to start early! So Chase and the boys were up, dressed, lunches packed, and in the boat by six AM. Grayson was more sleepy than Trey was, but that was understandable since he was only five. Chase smiled softly as Grayson leaned sleepily against him. Grayson had been too sleepy to eat, so Chase had packed an egg sandwich for the little boy for when he got hungry soon.

"Daddy!" Trey exclaimed, looking over his shoulder at Chase. "Daddy, daddy, something's pulling!" Chase smiled and set his fishing pole to the side, carefully shifting Grayson to make the little one sit up properly.

"Okay, little bear," Chase said, crouching behind Trey and guiding his hands on the reel. "Remember, you have to reel for a bit, then give it some slack. Can you do that?"

"I got it, daddy!" Trey declared proudly, dancing in place as he reeled in a surprisingly big trout. "Whoa! Daddy look!"

"Whoa!" Chase gasped, looking at the fish and pulling Trey into a hug. "That's incredible, bud!" Trey giggled and snuggled into Chase's chest, giggling more as Grayson sleepily tried to join the hug.

"Daddy, how do we get the fishy off the hook?" Grayson asked sleepily.

"Well," Chase said, setting the boys to the side and carefully gripping the rod between his knees. "Trey has done really good in that the fishy has the hook in his lip, see?"

"How is that good, daddy?" Grayson asked, more alert now as he watched Chase's hands.

"Well, the fishy isn't that hurt yet," Chase explained, carefully removing the hook and setting the fish into the cooler he brought. "See, that way he stays alive until we need him!"

"Can we let him go, daddy?" Trey asked, looking at the trout. "I think he's cute. I don't wanna eat him!"

"I don't wanna eat him either!" Grayson protested, looking at Chase with the biggest puppy dog eyes alongside his brother. It really was incredible how the boys managed to look so much like their mother with dark skin and curly hair and big, bright blue eyes.

"You two, I swear," Chase laughed, shaking his head fondly. "Okay, my sweetie-pies. We can let him go." Chase kissed both of their foreheads before carefully lifting the fish out of the cooler and threw it back into the water.

And that was that for the next six hours. Chase and the boys didn't catch another thing, and Chase had pretty much given up. The boys were currently playing in the water with all fishing hooks safely in the boat so they didn't risk getting hurt. They were having fun, luckily, and didn't seem to mind that Chase had dragged them out early for seemingly nothing.

"Daddy!" Trey called, swimming back to the boat slow enough that he didn't lose Grayson. Chase grinned and lifted both boys into the boat once they were close enough, wrapping their towels around them.

"Daddy, we're hungry," Grayson declared, sitting next to Trey.

"Really? You are?" Chase replied, pulling out the lunches he packed for the boys. "Then it is a very good thing I packed these, hm?"

"I want peanut butter and jelly!" Trey said, bouncing in his seat. "With potato crisps in it!"

"Well, you can certainly put your crisps in it," Chase said, handing Trey his back. "I didn't want them to get soggy!" It wasn't true peanut butter. Since Stacy found Grayson's allergy a few years back, all tree nut products had been eliminated from both Brody households with a vengeance. Instead, it was sunflower seed butter. But Trey liked to call it peanut butter anyway.

"Roast beast!" Grayson cheered, reaching for his back.

"Roast beef," Chase corrected patiently. Chase was pretty sure Grayson picked up calling it roast beast from The Grinch. He didn't mind it, but Stacy said the other moms at Grayson's school could be vicious, so correcting him it was.

"Roast beef," Grayson repeated, joining his brother in slowly and neatly arranging his lunch on his lap. Chase shook his head fondly, watching his boys for a minute before grabbing his fishing pole and preparing it quickly before casting.

"Daddy, we saw something in the water," Trey said, trading one of his potato crisps for one of Grayson's barbecue ones.

"Did you?" Chase asked, looking back at the boys as he waited for something catch.

"Mhm!" Trey hummed. "It was pretty and shiny!"

"Yeah? What color was it?" Chase asked, grunting softly as something pulled on his pole strong.

"Green!" Trey replied. "It was bright green and blue and super shiny! Was it a fishy?"

"Well, it might've been," Chase grunted, pulling on the pole strongly. "But most fish around these parts aren't very brightly colored."

"It was a mermaid!" Grayson declared.

"No way! Mermaids live in the ocean!" Trey replied.

"Nuh-uh! They just live underwater! They can live in lakes!"

"No they can't!"

"It was a mermaid!"

"It wasn't!"

"It was a mermaid!"

Chase yelped as he suddenly pulled out something large and glittering bright green and blue. Chase yelped again when he fell back against the boat as it landed on his chest, looking down at him. It was... a man. With bright green hair and bright blue eyes and pale, powder blue skin as he looked down at Chase. Large gills slit his sides and his skin faded into glittering blue and green scales at his waist.

"Actually, boys," Chase said, laughing weakly. "I think it's a merman."

"Whoa!" Trey and Grayson exclaimed in unison.

"You hooked me!" The merman exclaimed, lifting his tail and showing off a large tear in his fin, dark red with blood.

"Oh, shi- shoot!" Chase replied squirming a bit to get out from under the merman. "Uh. I-I have a first aid kit with sewing stuff at the house, is it- can I- is it okay to take you there?"

"I suppose," the merman replied, glaring at Chase skeptically. Chase nodded and carefully helped the merman shift so he was fully in the boat.

"Uh. I-it's kinda lucky that the hook went full-way through, so we don't have to pull it out," Chase said awkwardly, taking the hook off the line and putting it in his tackle box before starting the boat up again and turning it towards the cabin.

The boat ride was surprisingly pleasant, given that the merman was probably still mad at Chase. Trey and Grayson were ecstatically curious, and the merman answered all their questions patiently. Chase gratefully docked the boat and tied it off.

"Boys, run ahead and fill the big bathtub in the master bathroom with water," he said. Trey and Grayson nodded and took off running for the nearby cabin. Chase carefully put one foot in the boat and kept the other on the dock, carefully lifting the merman up bridal style.

"Thank you," The merman said, looping his arms around Chase's shoulders and blushing faintly. Chase blushed as well, getting out of the boat and holding the merman close.

"I-I'm really sorry I hooked you," Chase said quietly.

"It's okay," the merman said. "I know it was an accident. I'm Jack."

"Nice to meet you, Jack, I'm Chase," Chase said, carrying the merman up to the cabin. "My boys are Trey and Grayson. Trey is the older one, he's eight. Grayson is younger at five."

"They're beautiful," Jack replied, smiling softly. "You and your wife must be very proud."

"Ex-wife," Chase corrected. "But we are very proud, yeah. They're brilliant boys." Chase carefully carried Jack through the cabin and up to the bathtub in the master bedroom.

"Here we go," Chase said, carefully setting Jack in the tub. "I'll be right back." He left to the kitchen to get the first aid kit.

"Daddy, he's pretty," Grayson said when he saw Chase. The boys were both on the floor, trying to clean up the water and blood Jack had dripped.

"He's very pretty, yes," Chase agreed absentmindedly.

"Are you gonna marry him now?" Trey asked.

Chase looked up so quickly he hit his head on the door of the cabinet. "What!?"

"In the fairytales, the fisherman always marries the mermaid! Or the prince does! And you're a king, so you have to!"

"Wha- I am not a king," Chase said for lack of a better reply.

"But mommy says we're her little princes, so that means you're a king!"

"But he's a merman, not a mermaid! So he can't marry daddy!" Grayson replied.

"Yes, he can, stupid!"

"Trey, don't call your brother stupid!"

"But you said that the mermaid has to marry the fisherman and prince!"

"But two boys can get married, so a merman can still marry the fisherman and prince!"

"Boys, stop! I'm not gonna marry Jack!" Chase exclaimed, face burning as he stomped back to the bathroom. Trey and Grayson both shrugged and turned back to their task.

"So. Marriage?" Jack asked, quirking an eyebrow at Chase when he entered the bathroom. Chase blushed more and sat down next to Jack's tail, carefully getting to work sewing it up.

"They read a lot of fairytales," Chase said sheepishly.

"It's adorable," Jack said, laughing and fluttering his eyelashes at Chase.

Chase blushed and looked back at Jack's tail. The rest of the time was silent and Chase practically ran from the room when he was finished.

For the next three days, Chase and the boys fell into a sort of routine with Jack. They brought him three meals a day, occasionally sat and talked with him, and otherwise went about their adventures by the lake.

After the boys were asleep, Chase carefully knocked before entering the bathroom on the night of the third day Jack had been with them. Jack had explained his tail needed a few more weeks to heal before he thought he could safely go back into the lake, so Chase had rented out the cabin for a while longer to stay with him. Of course, the boys would still need to go back to Stacy at the end of the week, but that didn't stop them from enjoying spending time with Jack.

"Hey," Chase said, smiling at Jack as he entered. "I was gonna shower, is that okay?"

"Yeah, go ahead," Jack replied, resting his head on the lip of the bathtub. The bathroom was huge- the whole cabin was huge, really. But the bathtub was right across from the separate shower. Chase had been using the downstairs bathroom for the past couple of days, but he really needed to shower now.

Chase grinned awkwardly and turned his back to Jack as he stripped and started the shower, barely waiting for the water to warm up before he climbed in and closed the glass door, internally cursing that the glass wasn't even warped or frosted to hide his body. Chase was by no means insecure about his body. He was muscular and he knew it- he took great pains to be that way, in fact. But there was a difference between showing his chest off at the gym and to friends, and in having a merman you've known for three days see your entire body as you wash. Chase could definitely feel Jack's eyes on him. He didn't even have to glance over at Jack to know that the merman was blatantly watching him wash himself. But Chase made the decision to ignore the feeling Jack's eyes on him- and the way his cock was quickly hardening at said feeling.

Chase was almost grateful when he climbed out of the shower, except that he'd forgotten a towel and now he didn't even have the illusion of the shower door to pretend Jack wasn't looking at him. Chase cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away from Jack's blatant staring at his cock.

"Are you large for a human?" Jack asked.

Chase squeaked, blushing brightly. "Jack! Jaysus! You don't just ask a dude that!"

"I'm curious," Jack said, frowning curiously. "Please tell me?"

"I-" Chase blushed and ran a hand through his hair anxiously, walking closer to Jack. "I'm a bit above average, yeah, but not by much."

"Can I touch it?" Jack asked, leaning closer.

"Can yo- What!?" Chase exclaumed, blushing somehow brighter and staring down at Jack in shock.

"Please?" Jack asked, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

"Jack, you know what that means, right?"

"Well, duh," Jack replied, rolling his eyes. "It's like sex or foreplay. Please?"

"I-I guess," Chase consented, carefully climbing into the tub with Jack once the merman made room.

Jack quickly shifted around to be next to Chase, resting his head on the human's shoulder. Chase's breath hitched as Jack wrapped a webbed hand around his cock, slowly stroking him. Chase moaned softly, gripping the edge of the bathtub tightly.

"Fuck, Jack," Chase moaned, licking his lips and looking at the merman. Jack bit his lip and slowly guided one of Chase's hands to a slit in the scales. Chase leaned down and kissed Jack passionately, gently rubbing Jack's slit. Jack moaned into the kiss, pulling away and panting.

"Chase," he whined, arching his back. Chase carefully slipped his fingers into the slit, moaning as Jack's hand tightened around his cock in shock. Jack pressed his forehead against Chase's, moaning and rocking into his fingers.

"There's something hard in there," Chase said softly, thrusting into Jack's hand.

"Th-that's my cock," Jack explained, kissing Chase deeply. Chase moaned into the kiss and pulled his fingers out as Jack's cock slowly emerged, the merman rutting against Chase's thigh weakly.

"Chase," Jack breathed, pulling away from the kiss. "I want you to fuck me~"

"Yes," Chase moaned eagerly, rolling over on top of Jack. Jack pulled his hand away from Chase's cock, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

"D-do I put it in-?"

"Yes," Jack replied, whimpering desperately as Chase slowly pushed his cock into his slit.

"Oh, fuck," Chase moaned, gripping Jack's hips tightly and straddling his tail for stability as he slowly started rolling his hips.

"Hah~ Chase~" Jack moaned, thrusting his cock up against Chase's stomach weakly.

"Relax, baby," Chase breathed, thrusting in and out of Jack quickly. "Fuck, you feel so good, baby. So perfect~"

"Harder, Chase~" Jack moaned, gripping Chase's hair tightly and pulling him down. Chase leaned down willingly, moaning as Jack kissed down his throat. Chase groaned and sped up his thrusts wincing briefly as Jack dug claws into his shoulders.

"God, Jack, I'm not gonna last much longer," Chase moaned, pressing his forehead against Jack's shoulder.

"Do it," Jack moaned, draging his claws down Chase's back. "Fill me, Chase, let me feel you, please~"

"Oh, fuck," Chase moaned loudly as he thrust deep inside of Jack and came. Jack gasped, biting deep enough into Chase's neck to draw blood as he came at the same time.

Chase pulled put of Jack, flopping to the side when the merman released him. He lifted a hand to his neck, wincing slightly at the pain.

"Fuck, dude," Chase laughed breathily, wincing at the press of the tub against his back. "You did a number on me, huh?"

"Sorry," Jack apologized, resting his head on Chase's chest. "It's something merrow do." He carefully touched Chase's neck. "It's a claim mark. My way of saying you're mine."

"Oh." Chase laughed weakly. "Should I give you one, too?"

"If you'd like," Jack replied. Chase hummed and leaned down, latching onto Jack's throat and sucking a dark mark into it.

"Yeah, that'll work," Jack breathed, his still exposed cock jumping at the sensation.

"Yeah?" Chase laughed. "That feel good?"

"I think you should do it again, just to make sure." Neither of them got much sleep that night.

At the end of the week, Chase had managed to find a wheelchair and carefully covered Jack's tail, settling the merman on the front porch so he could say goodbye to the boys properly. He was wearing one of Chase's shirts to hide his gills.

"Hey, Stacy," Chase greeted when Stacy got out of the car. Chase blinked slightly. He thought Stacy hated box braids because of how long they took, but there she was.

"Hey, Chase," she replied, smiling softly. "You look a bit beat up."

"Yeah, took a few tumbles playing ball with the boys," Chase laughed, glad that Stacy couldn't see the rest of the marks Jack had left. It was unsurprisingly easy to get bruised on a bathtub. "You look beautiful. Should I be giving a guy the talk about not hurting you?"

"Ha, no," Stacy replied. "New job, I wanted to look my best."

"Oh! Congrats, that's awesome," Chase replied, nodding. "The boys will be down in a minute, Grayson is still packing."

"That's okay, I'm good to stay for a bit," Stacy replied, smiling faintly. "And who's your friend?"

"Oh!" Chase grinned. "Jack, this is Stacy, the boys' mom. Stacy, this is my boyfriend, Jack."

"It's nice to meet you, Jack," Stacy said, grinning and shaking Jack's hand.

"Mommy!" Trey and Grayson yelled, running down the stairs with their backpacks.

"Mommy, mommy, daddy took us fishing!" Trey exclaimed. "And I got a big fish! But we let it go!"

"Really?" Stacy gasped. "That's amazing, little bear! Does that mean I can send you out to find dinner now?"

"Mhm!" Trey hummed cheerfully. "I'll be a man, like daddy! But better, because daddy sucks at fishing."

"That I do," Chase agreed, sharing a look with Jack.

"Mommy, mommy, guess what!" Grayson sound, bouncing until Stacy picked him up.

"What, cutiepie?"

"Jack is a merman!!" Grayson declared.

"Really? Is he?" Stacy replied, humoring the little boy. Grayson nodded and Stacy laughed, setting him down. "Okay, baby. Say goodbye to your daddy, grandma's waiting for us for dinner."

Both boys quickly said goodbye to Chase and Jack before following their mom to the car. Stacy waved goodbye cheerfully and Chase returned it before turning to Jack.

"So. What should we do now?" he asked.

Jack looked at Chase with a smirk. "Oh, I have a few ideas~"

[thiswasinevitableid]

3. Sweets for OT4 because Barclay making sweet things for his polycule is the soft that I need! Sfw, with mer Duck and Joseph?

Here it is! Joseph’s design is based on a Spotted Drum, Duck’s on a Mahi-Mahi.

Most days, Barclay’s house resembles a cookbook library. Today, it looks like a cookbook library that got hit by a catastrophic earthquake.

His goal is to find three perfect recipes to bring to the beach with him tonight, but he keeps changing his mind; whenever he settles on a menu, he turns the page or turns around and finds another contender staring at him from its glossy photo.

Indrid is the simplest; he likes sweet food in all his forms, though he’ll make concessions to the rest of the tastes from time to time. It was one such concession (to sour) that first introduced them. Indrid was shooting a fashion spread in town and came into Amnesty Lodge, where Barclay was working the counter at their little coffee bar. 

“I suppose I should get a slice of the key lime pie, since we’re in the keys.”

Barclay cut him a generous slice because he liked the curve of his smile. Indrid sat at the counter, took a bite, took a second bite, and then ate so fast his fork was a silver blur. He licked his plate clean when he thought Barclay wasn’t looking. There was a dot of whipped cream on his nose that Barclay almost offered to kiss off. But he exercised restraint and gave him a napkin instead.

Indrid came back the next day, and the next, and the day after that too. When Barclay asked how long the shoot was, Indrid admitted it was done three days ago.

“I, ah, I’ve been coming down from the city just for your food.”

“That’s the best compliment anyone’s ever given me.” Barclay leans across the counter, smiling when he spots Indrid’s eyes giving him a once over from behind his red-lensed glasses.

“May I have the chance to pay you some more? Perhaps tonight if you’re free? 

He was, and Indrid complimented him before, after, and during the night they spent together. Barclay would have been fine with a one-night stand, let the memory of Indrid’s tan, angular body under his hands carry him for the next few months. But the photographer came back at least three times a week and took Barclay out as much as possible. He learned Indrid was a big enough deal that he could pick and choose assignments and that he traveled often, but the longer they were together, the more he talked about moving his headquarters to Kepler.

Two years later, his office and studio are ten minutes from the apartment he and Barclay share. When he’s in town, he’s glued to Barclays side.When he travels, Barclay gets postcards signed with hearts or filled with sketches of what Indrid’s seen (and he always comes home laden with local delicacies for Barclay to try).

Wait, what were those hard candies he brought back and then ate all of? Yeah, that will work. Barclay checks to be sure he has heavy cream and makes a note to get pineapple from the grocery store. He’d hoped to avoid a trip out, but Indrid is worth it. Indrid is one of the best things to ever happen to him. 

He’s also the reason Barclay has to find three recipes and not just one.

A year ago Indrid was location scouting for a dramatic oceanside shoot. On a remote outcropping, waves splashing around him, a man popped up from the water to ask what the hell he was doing so far out and didn’t he know the tide overtook this rock real quick?

Indrid, a little strange himself, recovered quickly from being scolded  by a merman. And promptly asked if merman would like to pose for a portrait. If not, would he be able to show Indrid some good locations for photographing rays?

Duck, green-finned and strong, became Indrid’s guide to the reef. It didn’t take long before Barclay noticed Indrid getting dreamy-eyed when he recounted their adventures. Maybe he should have been jealous, but he was just happy his boyfriend found a hunky merman to show him the wonders of the sea.

These days, he considers Duck one of his best friends, a friend who also happens to make Indrid’s face light up like the Vegas strip whenever he smiles at him. 

Duck’s palate tends towards the savory side, and on days when he needs a pick-me-up Barclay will bring him a travel bowl of french onion soup and a hard seltzer, the two of them sitting on the sand and comparing notes on troublesome customers (or, in Duck’s case, park guests in the aquatic campground on the far edge of the reef. 

Actually, that gives Barclay an idea. He grabs the flour from the cupboard, sets it next to the jar of yeast and a bottle of wheat beer. They may be metamours and not partners but, as Barclay often jokes, he owes Duck big time. 

See, shortly after meeting Duck, Indrid guided Barclay down to a hidden patch of beach. 

“I want Duck to meet you, dearest. He also has someone he wishes to introduce to us.”

Duck barely had time to emerge before another merman pulled himself onto the beach and began asking questions. 

“See, this is why I asked him to come. Joe’s fascinated by the human world. Even swam under a glass bottom boat tryin to get a look at some tourists. Which was real dangerous.”

“You didn’t seem to mind  disciplining me for it” Joseph shoots a smile at the other mer, then continues his examination of Indrid’s camera.

With black hair, blue eyes, and a stunning white and black tail, Joseph is the most handsome man Barclay’d ever seen. Later, when he had to explain the fact he was attracted to both him and Indrid, he’d say that the difference in his boyfriends was like the difference between being fed by a classically trained French chef and Spanish chef pushing the boundaries of molecular gastronomy; radically different, but equally amazing.

Joseph, inquisitive and clever, began asking to see them whenever he could. Barclay started bringing food down for Joseph to try, played him movies on his phone, and fell harder for him whenever he laughed or smiled or made a bad pun. 

Some nights Duck, Indrid, or both joined them. Other nights it was just the two of them and water, Joseph lazily waving his tail back and forth as they talked. One evening, he dragged it across Barclay’s legs by accident and the human wasn’t quick enough in hiding his reaction.

“Should I do that again?”

“S-sure.” 

“Can I kiss you at the same time?”

“Yes! No, fuck, wait we, we need to talk to Indrid and Duck about this.”

“I suspect they won’t mind, but you’re right. We’ll take a rain check, big guy. And please pass me that cake.”

In addition to his other good qualities, Joseph has the most sophisticated palates of anyone, mer or human, Barclay knows. As in he can taste the notes of blackberry or chocolate that a wine label insists are there but Barclay can only sort of get a hint of. Barclay once bought him a sampler box of expensive wines, cooked oysters over a driftwood fire, and hand fed both to Joseph as he moaned and wiggled with delight, outlining in no uncertain terms what he’d do for Barclay as a thank you.

(He still can’t look at a bottle of white wine without blushing)

That means Barclay has to make something that's as sweet and sophisticated as the mer himself. Ripe peaches tickle his nose. He grabs his copy of Dessert for All Seasons, flipping to summer with a smile. 

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

“Okay, so” Barclay sets the bags down on the picnic blanket, “I, uh, I decided making one sweet thing wasn’t enough. I know that’s kinda silly but you three are so fucking important to me I wanted to do this right.”

“Doubt you’ll get any complaints from mr. sweet tooth.” Duck smirks. Indrid, lounging in linen shorts a moth patterned Hawaiin shirt, sticks his tongue out. The mer just blows him a kiss in response. 

“And there’s no need to apologize for being thoughtful.” Joseph drapes his tail over Ducks, “it’s one of your best traits.”

“Thanks, babe. Uh, so, Indrid, this is for you.” He lifts the pie plate from the ice chest, “it’s pineapple cream with vanilla whipped cream on top.”

“I love you.” Indrid takes the dish with wide-eyed appreciation. 

“Duck, these are for you.”

“Oh hell yeah, pretzels. Wait, is this-”

“French onion soup dip? Yep.”

“I’m gonna eat the hell outta this.”

“And, uh” he slides the cake carrier towards Joseph, “I found a recipe for a peaches and cream Prosecco cake. Hope you like it.” 

Joseph lifts the lid, licks his lips, then pushes the carrier into the center of blanket so he can roll and put his head in Barclay’s lap.

“You’re the best.”

“Indeed. Which is why we have something for you as well.” Indrid stands, stepping over Duck and then eeping when the mer gently whacks his ass with his tail. When he returns (stopping to bend down a pinch the sensitive upper back of said tail), it’s with the cake carrier Barclay looked everywhere for earlier today.

Beneath the pink plastic lid is a cake coated in milk chocolate frosting.

“‘Drid said this was the one you made yourself for your birthday.” 

“Oh fuck, the chocolate malt one?”

“The very same. We had to get a bit creative cooking it; Joseph suggested making the layers  in cast iron over a fire, which worked well. After all, we didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

The frosting message of “happy one year anniversary” gets a little blurry, and he wipes his eyes, “this is so fucking sweet, you guys.”

“You deserve it.” Joseph kisses his hand as Indrid rests his head on his shoulder, Duck scooching over to lay across Indrid’s lap. 

Barclay smiles, “We all do.”

[ramblinganthropologist]

MER Week Day 2 - Long time no see

Summary: It’s been a while since Alistair Shepard and Garrus Vakarian have seen each other. They’ve been busy on their separate planets, helping in whatever ways they can to get things back to as normal as they’re going to get. However, with some free time, they’re finally getting to meet back up. Problem is... somebody forgot to mention the testosterone. Whoops. Well, at least Shepard’s got a free offer of carapace ripping from his sister if things go south.

(Set after ME3, enjoy your t4t shakarian lol)

---

Babe: See you at 3 then.

The message still glowed on his screen, burned into his retinas from the night before. It was the last message in a long conversation that had lasted well into hours he should have been sleeping, but it had been worth it. After all, it was important to hash out details when your fiancé was coming to visit.

It was even more important to do so in his circumstances.

“Fuck…”

The words leaked out from between Alistair’s teeth as he glanced around – the time said it was sometime after 2:40. Like always, campus was busy, full of his fellow students going from one class to another. Most of them look tired – and he understood that fully. Between med school and fighting the reapers… some days it could be a toss-up, depending on what he was doing.

Most days, med school won. Maybe that was a good thing? Or maybe he was just a sadist.

Regardless, campus was busy. It was easy to blend into the crowd like this as he sought a seat on a bench under a tree. All he could do was look at the screen of his omni-tool, frowning as he read through the messages.

He shouldn’t have been nervous… but he was.

Maybe that was why he clicked onto a new message window, just as busy as the one with the one he had been glancing at. Even better, the other person was online. Something like hope sprung into his chest as he started typing, fingers flying with the speed of an ex-Alliance officer.

Some things were fading with time – this probably never would.

Al: Where are my anxiety meds when I need them?

Bo: Relax, he’s going to love it. And if he doesn’t, there won’t be anything left to bury afterwards.

Bo: Or whatever turians do when they die.

“Nothing like threatening my fiancé to get me to calm down.” He chuckled despite himself, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. However, a beeping drew his attention. Bo was attempting to video call him, which he was more than happy to accept.

Rannoch was as busy as ever on the other side of the line. He could see quarians and geth in the background, going about their business as his adopted sister focused her camera. Even after tweaking it, she was still a little skewed and not completely in the frame. However, she was allowed to be – her analogue sense of direction had saved his ass. She could be as out of focus as she wanted.

“I mean it, Al.”

He chuckled again. “I know, Bo. I guess I’m just nervous. I mean… we haven’t seen each other before…”

With his free hand, he gestured towards his body. Some days, especially in the early morning when he was half asleep, he was still unable to believe what was actually happened. It seemed more like a dream… at least until his voice cracked. It was doing that far less as his range settled, but still. At his age, it was kind of embarrassing.

Oh well, puberty was rough, especially when it was triggered for a second time in his 30’s.

“Told you that you should’ve sent him more dick pics.” Bo’s tone was flat as a pancake as she adjusted her camera – still out of focus. Now he was getting a view of Rannoch’s currently cloudless sky. Last time he had seen it, it had been full of Reapers. Honestly, he preferred it without them. Much friendlier. “Just relax. You know he thinks you’re hot as hell. All you have to do is use your commander Shepard voice and he’ll be eating out of your hand.”

Alistair felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m not going to use that in public…”

“You know what I mean. An Adam’s apple isn’t going to turn him off, so no sense worrying about it.” She paused, and he swore her eyes glowed. Maybe that was the camera angle? “And if it does…”

He could already see the threat – beating him with his own carapace was one of her favorites. He had never actually seen someone do it, but it was a classic at that point.

“Yeah, I know - death and calamity upon his head like you’ve only reigned down on the last guy who tried to take your crown.”

“He’s still recovering.” There was pride in her voice at that, and she should have it. After all, it wasn’t every day a human went undefeated in Omega’s underground Krogan wrestling tournaments. Surviving the reapers only brought better challengers, and it seemed to keep her well supplied with cannon fodder. “But anyway, just go for it.”

There was a pause, and her camera focused momentarily. “Also, since when did you start growing a beard?”

Oh, hail the mighty power of testosterone…

“Like two months ago, shaving sucks.” A beeping drew his attention – his heart raced at the sight of a new message. “Gotta go… I think that’s him.”

“Remember, just call me if you need his carapace ripped off.”

After the offer of violent assault, the call disconnected and left Alistair alone with his thoughts as he switched back over to his messages. Just like he thought, the message was from a certain someone he was waiting for. His heart jumped into his throat as he glanced around – nope, not there yet.

Babe: Almost there, got a little lost. I’ll never understand human city planning.

He always said that. Still, it made the ex-marine chuckle as he stood, waiting. Soon enough, they would be together again. It had been far too long, and the distance achingly wide. But now that the relays were working again, it was possible.

Note to self: maybe don’t take out the relays next time he saved the universe. It made travel a nightmare to say the least.

At least it wasn’t a long wait. Out of the corner of his eye, Alistair spotted movement that didn’t quite track for tired med student. It was too focused for that, and the pace was all wrong anyway. Plus, the whole carapace and being like seven feet tall thing helped, but it didn’t sound nearly as cool as the former.

“Alright, just… relax. Like Bo said…”

Of course, that didn’t help the butterflies in his stomach as he stood, adjusting his shirt. All the logic in the world couldn’t have saved him then as he watched the turian approach, clearly scanning the crowd for familiar markers. His heart stopped when their eyes met in the crowd, blue into blue.

Garrus was looking good for someone who had nearly died killing Reapers.

“Al?”

There was no mistaking the surprise in the turian’s voice as he made his way over to the tree. When he finally got there, his mandibles flapped like flags in the wind. The gears were turning in his brain, no doubt running countless calibrations. In a weird way, it was kind of cute.

At the same time, it was fucking nerve wracking. Talk about a conflict of interest.

Still, it was Garrus, and he was finally there. That was enough to put a smile on Alistair’s face as he reached out to take the turian’s taloned hand. It was just as rough and warm as he remembered, and his fingers still stretched as they laced together. It might have been a little sore, but muscle memory wasn’t letting him down.

“Hey, babe. Good to see you got here in one piece.”

Thank the universe his voice didn’t crack with that one. Maybe this was the thanks he got for saving it.

At least Garrus had the good grace to not look as though his jaws had stopped working. Alistair did get to watch his eyes travel downward in the classic once-over, though. All the while, his stomach bubbled. It felt as though a heavy weight was poised to drop on his head, and all he could do was stand there and wait.

Eventually, the turian squeezed back carefully, the blunt side of his talons sliding down his fingers. “So, I guess this is why you’ve been so shy about video calling me lately?”

“My voice was cracking really badly up until about a month ago, you were saved a lot of translator feedback.” He smiled, sheepish. “But… yeah. I didn’t really know how things were going to turn out and…”

His voice trailed off as he felt heat leak into his cheeks. “Here’s hoping you still think I’m hot?”

Yep, his voice definitely cracked at the end there. Maybe the universe had it in for him after all. At least Garrus didn’t wince too hard at the sudden shift – good old turian military training there. Still, he hadn’t said anything yet. That… wasn’t promising.

Maybe he should have sent those dick pics?

“You… what’s that called again?” Garrus cocked his head to the side in a gesture that always made him look cute and kind of bird-like. “On your face. Joker was always talking about his.”

Right, turian…

“Beard. And mine’s not quite as good as his yet I’m afraid but give me a few months and I’ll see what I can do.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, fingers ghosting over his amp. It hadn’t seen action in almost a year now, and it was still odd to feel it cool to the touch.

Much to his relief, Garrus nodded. “It looks good now. I mean, you look good in general and all… I thought turian reactions to hormones were impressive, but humans are something else.”

“Gotta love those secondary sexual characteristics, babe.” Relief flooded through Alistair’s system as he sighed in relief. “And I think you just saved yourself getting your carapace ripped off by my sister.”

Hooray – that would have been a nightmare to fix.

Now it was the turian chuckling as he reached down to press his faceplates to his forehead in an alien version of a kiss. It was a gesture that always got his heart racing, even if it was just a quick peck. He had missed that in their time apart – texting just couldn’t beat actual contact.

“That’s probably for the best. I’ve not had a lot of practice lately, might be getting a little rusty.”

Alistair chuckled as they started to walk through the crowd. “You, rusty? I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, no, it’s true. Barely had any time to run calibrations even, I’m starting to worry I’ll forget.”

That time, they shared a laugh between them. Maybe this was what Alistair had missed the most in the time spent on different planets – there was just something about the interplay between human and turian laughter that made his insides feel warm. Or maybe that was just his reaction to Garrus in general. Right then, anything was possible.

Still, he felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m sorry I didn’t send any in-progress shots. Bo could confirm any embarrassing details if you asked her.”

“Trust me, I get it. Remind me when we get back to your place to tell you about how I didn’t tell my sister I was going on hormones until after she came back from basic.” Another squeeze. “Of course, if you wanted to test that new vocal range out in some more strenuous conditions first…”

Oh, there was nothing friendly about that gaze. And it was something Alistair could appreciate as he squeezed back. Home was well prepped for what they both had in mind – they just had to get there first. Lucky for him, he lived within walking distance of campus.

The chuckle that escaped his lips was definitely not of the innocent afternoon type as he leaned in so only the turian could hear him. “I think that can be arranged, Vakarian. Better pick up the pace, though.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

With that, it was off they went at a faster rate, not quite a run but definitely quick. With the sun shining and thoughts about what was waiting for him when he got home, Alistair was once again glad the whole universe saving thing had worked out for the better.

Now… what exactly was he going to do with the turian when he got home? The options were endless…

[eldritchsurveys]

663.

The Collector : What is in your Nine Inch Nails collection? What are you favourite items to own? >> I don’t have an NIN collection. I just took this survey because it seemed to have okay questions when I skimmed it. (Only these first four are questions about the band, lol.)

Deep : Favourite Nine Inch Nails Music Video? >> Closer, I guess. It’s the only one I remember aside from Only, which wasn’t all that interesting (song’s catchy, though).

The Frail : Favourite Nine Inch Nails Album? >> The Downward Spiral, I suppose. Never really thought about it. Year Zero was good too.

All The Love In The World : Favourite Nine Inch Nails Song? >> I don’t have one. There are a fair few that I like, of course, but I’ve never looked at one and thought “this one is my absolute favourite of all the NIN songs I know”.

Happiness In Slavery : Do you enjoy your job or school life? >> I don’t have either of those and I’m quite content that way.

Burning Bright (Field on Fire) - Do You Feel That During The Years As You Have Grown Up, You Feel Reborn? >> Death and rebirth is kind of just a theme with me, in general.

The Fragile : Do You Think You Can Fix A Broken  Person? >> I think a person that feels broken can eventually come to feel less so. I don’t think that it’s anyone else’s responsibility to guide them there. I do think that other people can be a vital source of support and encouragement during that process, if they choose to be.

Ringfinger - What Are Your Feelings On Marriage/Relationships? >> I think marriage and romantic relationships are, you know, great. I don’t necessarily want to partake in romance, myself, but I see their value for others. (And, obviously, I see the legal/social value for marriage, seeing as that’s mostly why I agreed to it in the first place.)

Terrible Lie - What Is The Biggest Lie You Were Ever Told? >> I have no idea. One time my father didn’t tell me our puppy had run away or gotten loose or whatever until I kept asking where he was. I thought that was dumb.

Help Me I Am In Hell - What Is Your Worst Nightmare? >> I have no idea.

Gave Up - What Is Your Go-To Thing To Calm You Down When You Are Pissed Off? >> Venting to Can Calah. It’s about the safest thing I can do, because I tend to behave irrationally and potentially make things worse when I’m upset.

A Warm Place - Your Favourite Place To Be? >> In my bed, tbh.

While I’m Still Here - How Would You Like To Be Remembered? >> I’ve never given it much thought. I figure it’s beyond my control anyway.

Copy of A - Do You Believe We Are In A Simulation? >> No, but I’m always willing to entertain the idea for thought experiments.

The Becoming - Can You Open Up To Other People Easily? >> Not. At. All.

Underneath It All - Are You Over Your Worst Experience? >> Of course not. Repetitive trauma has left indelible marks on my body and mind. The more I try to pretend otherwise, the worse things get, so I might as well acknowledge it.

Love Is Not Enough - Do You Believe In “Second Chances”? >> Sure. They just don’t have to come from me.

Sunspots - Are You Afraid of Growing Older? >> Nah. I am afraid of becoming infirm, or losing senses, that sort of thing. But not just of growing older in general.

Sin - What Is Your Ultimate Pleasure? >> I have no idea.

Something I Can Never Have - If You Could Say Anything To The One Who Got Away, What Would It Be? >> I don’t have anyone like that.

Dear World, : How Do You Sleep? >> Fitfully, a lot of the time. I was sleeping consistently well for a while but in the last few months it’s been a roller coaster.

I’m Looking Forward To Joining You, Finally : Have you ever lost someone who meant everything to you? >> Sure. Eventually, I figured out that no one can actually mean everything to me, and cut that maudlin shit out.

La Mer : Do you love the ocean or do you have a fear of it? >> I love it and I fear it.

March of the Pigs : Do you eat meat? >> Yeah.

Closer : Do you choose to follow a religion? >> I’m considering it, but it’s a constant source of debate in my head right now. Mostly because I have this idea of religion as a restrictive thing, something that would take away from my personal sense of freedom rather than complementing my search for meaning or whatever. It’s something I feel like I need to discuss with someone other than, you know, my own self, to get some perspective aside from my own, but I have no idea with whom.

Starfuckers Inc. - Celebrities You Think Are Attractive? >> Meh.

Shit Mirror - Are you afraid of where the world is currently heading? >> No. I understand why people are, of course. I just... personally can’t afford to expend any energy on fearing for the future. I have enough on my plate with the present.

I’m Afraid of Americans - Do you follow politics or do you choose to stay out of that stuff? >> I choose to keep my political consumption to a minimum. For one, it legitimately doesn’t interest me most of the time. But also, like... it’s all a shitshow. I don’t think my life is enriched by knowing every little thing going on in Washington, or obsessively watching Democratic debates to figure out who is “best”. I don’t fucking know. I can’t be bothered. I’m legitimately just going to vote for whoever ends up on the blue side of the ballot in November, and hope for the best.

In This Twilight - If the end was nigh, how would you choose to go out? >> I mean, I doubt I’d be able to choose.

Year Zero : Do you have plans for the apocalypse? >> No. I don’t believe in the apocalypse and I tend not to plan for things I don’t actually expect to happen.

The Downward Spiral : Do You Feel Like You Have you reached your lowest point and have you recovered since? >> I don’t know if I’ve reached my lowest point. I’ve reached very, very low points. I think that’s enough. I’d rather not try to see if I can get lower.

Hurt : If you could, would you re-start your life again? >> Please, god, no.

The Wretched : What Do You Hate In Life? >> I hate the lasting effect of trauma.

The Lovers : Do You Have Any Vices? >> Sure. Drinking, mostly.

Maybe Just Once : Do You Feel Like a Lucky Person When It Comes to Love? >> I don’t really know what that means. I’d dare say that I’m pretty unlucky in love in general, because I... have not ever had much of it.

Gunshots by Computer : What Are Your Thoughts On Modern Technology? >> I mean, I love it? It has its downsides like anything else, but I love it all the same.

That’s What I Get : Did You Ever Have an Emo Phase? >> Nah. I pretty much stuck with goth through everything.

Not So Pretty Now: Who Is Your Most Disliked “Celebrity”? >> ---

Every Day Is Exactly The Same : Do You Feel Like You Are Stuck In The Same Routine In Life? >> Well, right now, I kind of do keep to the same routine all the time. I don’t think that I’m necessarily stuck, I just... live like this. It’s fine, for the most part. I’ve had a lot of excitement in the past, it’s not necessarily how I want to live my life all the time.

Get Down, Make Love : Do You Have a Cover Song That Tops The Original? >> Yeah, there are quite a few covers that I prefer to the original. Dream Theater’s cover of Rainbow’s Stargazer is an example.

Screaming Slave : Do You Prefer Heavier Music or Softer Music? >> I like both.

Ahead of Ourselves : Do You Think Toxic People Can Change? >> I think anyone can change. Whether they will or not is the question, not whether they can.

Leaving Hope : Is There A Song That You Listen To That Just Emotionally Destroys You? >> Sure, I guess.

Somewhat Damaged : Have you ever been in a full on physical fight? >> Yeah.

Piggy : Have you ever been betrayed in some way by a person you cared about? >> Eh, maybe. That’s not really the verb I’d use, though.

Lights In The Sky : Thoughts On The Possiblity of an Afterlife? >> The possibility is always interesting to consider.

Big Man With A Gun - Are You For Capital Punishment? >> I really have no opinion.

Eraser : What Would Your Ideal Final Words Be? >> ---

Ghosts I-IV : Do You Have Any Supernatural Beliefs? >> Some would say. Those aren’t the words I would use, though.

You Know What You Are? - Thoughts On Fake People? >> I don’t know any fake people.

Home : Where On Earth Right Now Would You Like To Be? >> I’m fine right here. We just washed bed linens and it’s always nice to burrow into a clean bed.

I’m Not From This World : What song just gives you the creeps? >> I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way about a song.

And The Sky Began To Scream : Thoughts on How To Destroy Angels? >> I like a couple of songs. I haven’t really heard anything aside from that one EP, because I kind of keep forgetting to check out their other works.

Tapeworm : Do you have an embarassing illness/accident story you are willing to share? >> I don’t have any stories like that.

Fist fuck : Do you have any kinks/turn ons/turn offs? >> Yes.

Everything : Do you feel free? >> I guess. I never really thought about it, but generally, yes, I am free.

The New Flesh : Favourite horror film? >> I don’t know. I am very fond of the Hellraiser franchise in general, but not necessarily because of the quality of the films, if that makes sense... Oh, there’s also Event Horizon, that’s a horror movie and an overall favourite of mine.

[psychicscavenger]

Sea Witch (Shance MerMay 2019)

another drabble for my series Making Waves and Turning Tides. Series was inspired by @justshance‘s Mermay prompts for 2019, written for @shancemermay and fellow shance and mermaid fans in general.

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, some plot, conspiracy, pining, fairy tale elements, little mermaid elements, AU

After having to watch that disgusting display of emotions, Lotor sank into the depths of the abyss, welcoming the feeling of darkness as well as the increasing pressure allowing his gills to breathe in and out gently. The wonderful air flowing through and cleaning out the salty air from above surface left him feeling more relaxed but he was still on edge hoping his plan would work.

Lotor continued to swim down, the light from the surface fading away until he was swallowed up by the void, circling around him with only his senses to guide him past other mers who lingered around the abyss, usually nowhere to go with other unsavory creatures who liked to lurk in the deep. Lotor located his cave quickly, quietly slipping into the vast cavern, easily avoiding the fluttering cuttlefish his mother liked to experiment on. He cool called out a greeting towards the witch, sliding against a rock and parking himself there, unfurling his tentacles to stretch as the witch, his mother Honerva, approached.

"Lotor have you spoken with the fish noble's son?" A raspy voice called from behind the seaweed curtain. Lotor hummed, meticulously cleaning a tentacle sucker, making sure no remnants of fish scales were stuck underneath before casually replying, "Yes I have. The silly little brat took the deal and he's now off frolicking on the dry lands with the king. We'll be ruling this pathetic ocean soon Mother. That damned Queen Allura was a fool to reject me as a potential mate and to cast you from her palace with your talents! A true disgrace for a monarch in my opinion." Lotor huffed as his mother oozed from the shadows, pulling back the weeds to expose her curling tentacles floating around her as she glided over to her son.

"Just remember the plan. Once that noble gets a taste of what he wants, you'll draw him back and make him hold up his part of the deal. We need that trident if we want to take over the ocean." She spoke, every word punctuated harshly through the murky water Lotor would twitch every time she spoke.

"And what happens if he refuses or doesn't get a hold of it? Lance is divine looks wise but he's not all that brilliant upstairs." Lotor mocked snickering at the image of the mer earlier, acting all flustered and squeamish when the two humans approached him.

"That I'll leave to you dear son. Consider it a gift for helping me this far. It's taken years to find the right someone to help take down the queen but now I have high hopes that we'll be taking over not one but two kingdoms if all goes well." Honerva spoke heading over to a cavern rock that held some valuable objects to her. It was piled with bones, some mers, some regular fish. She even had a collection of shark teeth in a jar as well las several jars of glowing substances, Lotor would rather not ask what those were about.

Honerva pulled out a dusty broken mirror, so old it was rotted in the handle area, bits of algae and mold growing on the reflective portion which Honerva wiped away, repeating a few mumbled phrases unintelligible until the mirror glowed and soon Lotor was watching Lance in the mirror.

"This way we'll keep an eye on the boy, measure his progress with the humans." Honerva stated watching as Lance was currently having a battle with a few humans over the proper way to wear what the humans called pants. Lotor furrowed his brows watching the spectacle as he leaned back, crossing his arms with impatience.

"How long will this take do you think?" He asked getting annoyed upon seeing the human king enter the room and calmly remediating the situation, hands lingering upon Lance's waist with Lance flushing immediately.

"Not long, humans are easily predictable and are often like the very fish they hunt and eat. Place something shiny and new in front of them, and they'll snatch up the bait pretty easily." Honerva explained smirking upon seeing the matching blushing expressions between Lance and the human king.

"Sometimes too easily." She grinned.

                                                         ****

Lance wasn't normally materialistic, sure he was a mermaid, he hoarded a fair bit of treasure that many humans have dropped into the ocean, and he liked to keep his scales cleaner and shinier than his family or friends in the shoal, but compared to having a big, fluffy cushion all to himself, not having to share with his sisters, brothers, niece and nephew, he knew he could never go back to his old life.

"It's so big and bouncy! Beds are so cool!" He moaned, spreading his arms and legs over and over on the vast space, the long sleep shirt he was given rising up just a tad bit, exposing more and more of his upper thighs that had Shiro coughing and glancing away out of respect for his guest, and to keep himself in check.

"Yeah they are..also I just want you to know that you are welcome to stay here as long as you like even if you're finished recovering, I'm afraid to admit, but living on the far coast we don't see too many visitors." Shiro explained a small smile appearing on his face as Lance sat up tilting his head just so in that adorable curious way he's done all day.

"Do I get to use the bed still?" Lance asked which had Shiro chuckling. "Yes, you can use the bed as long as you want." Lance sighed happily flopping back over much to Shiro's amusement as Lance flipped over and snuggled into the sheets.

"Thank Goddess, I never want to leave ever again. You are my treasure now." Lance reached up patting a pillow as Shiro held back a giggle about to head out into the hall.

"If you need anything, I'm sure any of the kind people working here can attend to your needs, I'll be up as well as I'm not much of a sleeper, my rooms not too far down the hall. If you can't find someone, just come find me." Shiro stated turning to head out when Lance shot up, shouting "Wait!"

Shiro froze, unsure what was wrong until he suddenly found a sturdy presence pressing into his front side, arms wrapped around his middle and nearly hanging off of him(Lance still hadn't been able to get his legs to work properly like the humans, Shiro was currently in the process of finding the man a wheelchair to use in the meantime), his face pressed into Shiro's shirt, inhaling deeply as he spoke.

"Goodnight Shiro. I'm glad I met you, you were definetly worth it." Lance sighed happily unaware of the blushing flustered mess Shiro had become.

At first he wasn't sure what to say to something like that. It was definetly a little odd for a goodnight even if the man was very obviously appreciative of Shiro's hospitality, although it was expressed in such a strange way it had Shiro wanting to seek out answers to this puzzle.

But first, bed time.

Eventually, Shiro hugged him back, a little less tighter than Lance's but happy to return the affection in some way, whispering goodnight to Lance before gently coaxing him back to bed, maybe spending a bit too much time tucking him in but he reminded himself, or rather, tried to convince, that he was simply being extra cautious since the man was injured. They still haven't been able to get any solid information such as who he was or where he came from, but he was ultimately deemed not a threat and welcomed by the castle staff and guards alike.

All except for Keith that is.

Keith was friendly, in his own strange way. He obviously cared for others who mattered to him and Shiro's second-in-command for a reason.

His people skills..need work on the other hand.

Since Lance has been invited to the castle, Shiro had found the two bickering several times and Lance had only been there for four hours. Keith didn't trust strangers so easily and was incredibly suspicious of Lance, Shiro didn't really blame him either because Lance did some..very weird things. Like tonight's dinner fiasco.

As Shiro slipped away from Lance's bedroom, trying to get Lance's soft sleepy smile out of his head, he almost groaned at the memory of Lance's first dinner experience in the castle and how..not great it turned out. Apparently salad was too confusing of a dish to explain to Lance so he didn't eat it. The main course, some kind of lobster bisque, had insulted Lance, and in the end the only thing he liked was bread that he referred to as a beige sea sponge. Then Keith got involved...

"Shiro I need to talk to you." Shiro flinched, finding himself suddenly face to face with the very angry person he was thinking off.

"Good because I think we need to sign you up for more etiquette lessons." Shiro teased amused as Keith's face bloomed in embarrassment before he turned away huffing, with Shiro following.

"Lance started it, he was acting so weird! All I simply said was, the fork isn't to comb your hair and he yelled at me! He got mad because I wouldn't let him comb his hair with a fork Shiro, a fork, thats weird." Shiro sighed in response, understanding somewhat.

"Keith what you said was and I quote; 'Hey idiot, that's not how a fork works,' and glared at him until he stopped. I don't blame him for getting upset to be honest." Shiro shrugged it off, turning away towards his room when Keith jumped in front of him again.

"Still, how does someone his age not know how to use a fork? He looked like he had never seen one before Shiro! He's been looking at everything like that He got excited sitting in a chair Shiro. A chair. Don't you think that's a little suspicious at all? What if he's planning something?" Keith asked urgently to which Shiro sighed, aware that Keith tended to think towards the negative and conspiratorial side of things.

"Well, it's strange but I'm actually starting to guess the poor guy hit his head so hard he may have amnesia. It explain's why he can't remember how to use the most basic of human tasks. That or something really bad happened to him, we'll just have to find out and by doing that, he'll have to stay here, got it?" Shiro asked gently to which Keith nodded, obviously disgruntled with the idea.

"Fine but I don't like this." He griped trodding behind Shiro heading off towards his own room as Shiro just about closed his door, a few guards posted outside in case of any emergency.

"Okay MOM. Goodnight." Shiro held back a giggle when Keith made a face, waving him off as his version of 'goodnight' before Shiro shut his door getting ready for bed and a small part of him excited and intrigued to get to know his blue eyed guest.