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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 2 years ago

Note

Yaaay prompt game

How about image 1 nmbr 39 and image 4 nmbr 36

Members minho and jisung, although i dont care of its them as pairing or a member/y/n pair .... i just want both of them involved lol love your work

Byeeee

SKZ prompt game

Prompts: "We need to talk about what happened last night."

"Could he make you feel as good as I do?"

Members: Lee Minho, Han Jisung

Relationship: Pirate Captain!Minho x Merman!Jisung

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of slavery kind of? They're gonna sell Jisung but they don't actually because Minho's a secret softie.

Minho didn't believe in Fate.

He'd seen enough thoroughly prepared ships crushed against rocks by unexpected storms and enough reliable old maps lead to the middle of fuck knows where to believe in that shit.

He did, however, believe in using the stars as a guide, in his grandfather's heirloom compass which had yet to lead him wrong, and in the value of a good brewed beer after a particularly rough day at sea.

No, Minho did not believe in Fate.

But, as it turns out, he did believe in Merfolk.

And sometimes, Fate comes disguised as a particularly pretty Merman with large dark eyes and a propensity for bad luck and a heart as bottomless as the depths he came from.

And Minho-nonbeliever that he is-might have to reconsider that he'll need more than the stars and his trusty compass on his side to get him out of this mess.

********************************************************************************

"Down here, Cap'n."

Minho ducks his head beneath a low lying beam as he follows his first mate into the bowls of the ship, already cursing himself for wasting time over this.

When the crew had come to him and told him they'd caught a Merman in their nets that morning, he'd been uninterested, waving them off and telling them to throw the thing back.

But then they had convinced him to keep the pathetic thing-on his ship no less-and see what coin they could glean from selling him off to the highest bidder at the next port.

And now Minho is well and truly fucked.

The first mate comes to a stop outside of one of the cabin doors, and Minho takes in a deep breath, pinching his nose as he feels the beginnings of a headache coming on.

They should be well and truly underway to their next destination by now.

Instead, they have yet to push off from their anchoring spot because of this little 'find.'

Minho is not happy.

His first mate must sense that, because he offers some mumbled excuse and flees the scene, leaving Minho standing outside of the locked door, warily considering whether he actually wants to see what's on the other side or not.

He really should just let his men do what they wish here-it doesn't affect him either way-but he is the captain, and he can't have underhanded dealings happening without his sanctioning.

Thus, the door before him.

With another deep, disgruntled sigh, Minho unlocks the padlock and steps inside the small bunk room, shutting the door firmly behind him, before he takes in the cramped quarters.

There's the two narrow bunks shoved up against the far wall, the latrine bucket in the corner, and a rickety chair in the opposite corner, jammed against the wall for stability.

In said chair sits a man-dark complexioned, wavy, long black hair-large, doe eyes study Minho with the same wary consideration he's now staring back with.

Minho notes that the man has very two human legs beneath the overly large tunic he wears.

"Are you going to say anything? Or are you just going to stand there?" The mystery man asks with slight annoyance, arching a brow at Minho, crossing one slender leg over the other.

Minho's eyes catch on the delicate chain he wears around his ankle, the shells tinkling lightly against each other as he moves.

Minho returns the man's stare and asks steadily, "Do you always take on human form when on land, sea dweller?"

The man snorts, rolling his eyes heavenward, as if Minho is stupid.

When he glances back to him, there's a slight curve of a smirk on his plump lips, and Minho's gaze drifts unwittingly to his mouth.

"A tail would be quite inconvenient on land, would it not?" The man queries with slight amusement.

He kicks a long leg toward Minho, the smooth skin slightly shiny in the lantern light, as if his scales shimmer just out of sight beneath.

"24 hours. That's how long it lasts."

Minho's gaze catches the merman's once more, and he finds curiosity raising its head unbidden at his words.

"How long it lasts?" He repeats carefully, suddenly wary again, as if the man sitting before him is hiding some sort of secret skill or weapon from his knowledge that he should know about.

The man snorts again. "My legs." He reiterates, slower this time, as if Minho isn't understanding something.

It makes his skin prickle with annoyance, but he holds his place solidly against the door.

"I'll need water again after the time period is up." The man continues, stretching his legs out in front of him, staring at them as if he's really seeing them for the first time. "That's how it works. 24 hours on land, and then back to the sea."

Minho fights the urge to ask him anything else, and instead, holds his face expressionless as the merman once again looks him up and down, openly studying him.

"Well." Minho clears his throat and pushes off the door, reaching for the handle.

He's seen quite enough.

"Luckily for you, we should reach our next port well within the time period. You'll be sold off and no longer my problem by the time you need to return to the sea. Your new owner can then decide whether to give you what you need or let you suffer."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa."

Minho hears the chair screech, and the man clamber to his feet, slight panic in his tone.

He doesn't turn around, his hand still on the door knob.

"You can't-" The man falters, as if deciding how to win Minho over. His voice is smaller when he speaks again, trembling with something akin to anger. "You can't do that."

"Why?" Minho asks blankly without looking. His fingers clench tighter around the knob. "Why can't I?" He turns to look at the man now, standing beside the thrown chair, hands in fists at his side. "You stumbled into my nets cast by my crew, you're on my ship-you're my property now, sea dweller, and I can do with you what I see fit."

The merman's whole body trembles, and Minho doesn't know if it's from rage or fear.

"You can't." He repeats, softer this time. "Do you know what they'll do to me?"

Minho arches a brow. "I don't, but I find I don't care."

And with that, he turns and leaves the room, locking the door behind him and making his way back toward deck.

God, he really hates the underbelly of the ship.

********************************************************************************

When they reach the next port, Minho gets bad news.

Bad fucking news indeed.

"No." He slams his knife down into the wood of his desk, making his first mate flinch across the room. His eyes flash and he can feel the anger-hot and heavy-start to wash over him. "We're not keeping that thing aboard."

"But cap'n-" The mate tries again, holding out his hands and inching forward, as if that will soothe Minho's ire.

It doesn't.

"We've heard from some reputable sources that we'll catch a mighty fine price fer the merman if we wait and sell him in one of the bigger ports where there are more bidders."

Minho can see the greed sparkling in his first mate's dark eyes, and he curses himself for not seeing this was coming.

They're pirates.

Of bloody course they want to get the biggest haul imaginable.

It's what they do. What they all do.

"If we keep that thing on here for more than 24 hours, we're gonna have more fucking problems than a few lost coins." Minho growls, digging the sharp point of his knife deeper into the wood.

The first mate nods, his cap still held respectfully in front of him. "We understand, and we've accounted fer everything, Cap'n."

Minho blows out a harsh breath, staring past the other man, out to the dark rolling waves of the sea beyond the bow.

Finally, he wrenches his knife from the wood and throws it down wearily.

"Fine. But I don't want to hear a word about it. And if that thing gets out of control, it's on your head."

He motions with a jerk of his head toward the door.

"Now get the fuck out of my quarters."

********************************************************************************

They're two days into their journey when Minho breaks his word.

The door to his private quarters opens and the first mate shoves the merman inside, looking more than a little worse for wear since the last time Minho saw him.

"Leave us." He commands, and his man leaves without a word, shutting the door behind him.

Minho stands from behind the table, walking slowly toward the man, hands behind his back, looking him slowly up and down, as if he's eying an animal on sale at an auction.

The merman holds his ground, staring Minho down, but the circles under his eyes are darker than Minho remembers, the sway of his feet on the deck a little more pronounced.

Minho comes to a stop in front of him, and cocks his head.

"I hear you've been refusing the food my men give you."

A slight sneer flashes across the merman's lips, and Minho catches sight of a flash of sharp, pointed teeth. "If slop is considered food, then yes."

Minho doesn't waver. "I'm providing for you out of the grace of hospitality you know. I could just let you starve."

The man lifts his chin and continues to stare Minho down. "Why do you care?"

Minho pulls his knife from his breast pocket, and ticks the sharp point lightly beneath the other man's chin, forcing him to hold his gaze as he arches his brow pointedly.

"You are my product, sea dweller. If I don't present you in the best possible condition, what will my buyers think?"

The merman's lips twist into a slight growl, and Minho smirks, turning away.

He crosses back to sit down behind the table-laden with his five course supper-and flips his knife end over end mindlessly, playing with it between his fingers before he glances back up to the other man, watching him warily.

"Come." He motions to the chair across from him with the knife. "Sit."

The man doesn't move, and Minho sighs.

"That wasn't an invitation. You can sit of your own free will, or I can simply call back in my first mate to force your hand. Your choice."

After a brief second of hesitation, the man crosses the room and stiffly settles into the chair across from Minho.

"Good." Minho nudges a platter heaped high with broiled, crispy fish toward him. "Now eat."

The merman hesitates briefly, eying the food, as if Minho is going to poison him, and with another long sigh, he leans forward, grabbing one of the fish and ripping it to shreds between his teeth as the merman watches.

He makes a show of chewing and swallowing, staring pointedly at the other man the whole time.

Only once he has swallowed the bite of fish and washed it down with some red wine, does the man across from him make a move toward the offered food.

Minho watches him tear apart a fish hungrily with his abnormally sharp teeth, followed closely by a second, and a third, and only when he stops to take a long gulp of wine does Minho allow himself to speak.

"The darkness of the underbelly does nothing for your complexion. We cannot arrive in port with you looking peaky. You shall be allowed above deck, staring tomorrow, with my supervision of course."

The man glances up at him, surprise and suspicion written clearly in his dark eyes, and Minho holds his gaze, leaning forward to rest on his elbows as he studies him.

"One slip of your siren song though, and I shall chain you to the bulwark in the dungeon until we arrive."

The merman snorts, and reaches for another fish, eyeing Minho with open judgement.

"Siren songs are a myth. Merfolk can't compel anyone. We're made out to be big scary creatures of legend with razor sharp teeth who lure unwitting sailors to their doom and feast on their flesh, but all of those stories were made up by humans who were too scared to face the truth for what it actually was."

"Which is?" Minho can't help himself from asking, and the man pauses, staring at him.

He gives a little shrug. "That we're just like you, if you can look past the scales and the giant tail."

Minho sits back, watching him steadily as he rips into the fish, and something inside of him knows the merman is telling him the truth.

But why?

And why does he suddenly find that he cares?

*******************************************************************************

Minho watches the merman watch the sea and he realizes something.

They both love it.

They're alike in that regard.

They both can't get enough of the unpredictable waves, the dark, mysterious depths, the roiling violence that belies the calm that lies just underneath.

Minho has always loved the sea, and he's never quite met anyone who loves it just as much as he does.

That is, until he met him.

Minho watches for another moment-the way his face lights up as he glances past the long dark strands of his hair to watch the seabirds circle, the way his fingers tap along the railing, as if he itches to run them through the cold, turquoise water below.

He watches, and then he steps up silently beside the man and asks without preamble, "Do you have a name, sea dweller?"

The man glances at him sidelong, face suspicious and suddenly shuttered, and Minho finds himself missing the open softness he had sported moments ago while regarding the sea.

Something inside him wants this strange man to look at him the same way.

Finally, he says, "Jisung."

Minho wants to repeat the name, try it out on his tongue, see how it feels to roll around in his mouth, but instead, he hums in acknowledgement beneath his breath, and glances back out to the safety of the waves.

The sea is familiar.

This merman-Jisung-is not.

There is a beat of silence, and then Jisung says with slight irritation, "Well? Are you going to return the favor? Or shall I just call you 'captain' the rest of my time here?"

Minho glances to him, and can't help the smirk that crosses his lips at his words.

"I wouldn't be opposed."

And then, Jisung does something Minho never thought he'd see.

He blushes.

He looks away and clears his throat, his gaze once again fixed on the waves cutting sharp around the ship's bow.

Minho feels something inside him soften, and he says, softer this time, for only Jisung to hear-"Minho. My name is Minho."

Jisung glances to him in surprise, full lips slightly parted, and then shuts his mouth once more, letting his gaze follow Minho's down to the familiarity of the sea.

He gives a nod, and whether it's accidental or not, his finger brushes Minho's for the briefest moment on the railing.

Below them, the sea laughs.

********************************************************************************

It's been four days since they left the last port, and Jisung has eaten with Minho in his private cabin every night.

As Minho watches the merman dig into another plate of fish, something inside of him nags, sour and unsettled.

Only two more days until they reach their home port, and then what?

Minho knows. He's known from the beginning.

His crew will look to him to auction off Jisung to the highest bidder and that's that.

He's known that was the plan all along, so why, now, suddenly, does it put a hollow pit in his stomach?

Minho comes back to himself to find Jisung watching him curiously, the half eaten fish held lax in his hands.

"What?" He asks, a little more sharply than intended, but Jisung just smiles and goes back to eating.

"Nothing."

Minho shoves his food around his plate a few times, but doesn't take anymore bites.

He finds he's suddenly not hungry.

His gaze is once again pulled unwittingly back to the man across from him, and this time, when his eyes meet Jisung's shockingly dark orbs, he doesn't say anything.

Instead, the merman huffs a little laugh and shakes his head. "You do that a lot, you know."

"Do what?" Minho asks, butterflies suddenly swarming in his stomach.

He flips his knife around in his fingers, just to ground himself.

"Stare at me." Jisung announces, cocking his head, as if he's studying Minho right back.

Minho gives a little half shrug and directs his gaze back to his plate. "Just thinking of all the money I'm going to get from your pretty ass."

The sound of a chair scooting back, and then suddenly, Jisung is in front of him, leaning back against the table, crowded between his legs.

Minho feels like he can't breathe.

A smirk crosses Jisung's lips as he stares down at Minho.

"You think I'm pretty?"

Minho feels panic start to creep across his skin.

His fingers tighten on the arms of his chair in an effort to control himself, to not reach out and touch the man standing directly in front of him.

Between his legs.

"Relatively, for a sea dweller." Minho says gruffly, trying to play this whole thing off, because the longer Jisung is in his space, smelling like surf and salt and looking that good, the harder it is to keep his hands to himself.

Jisung continues to stare at him, and Minho feels a muscle tick in his jaw.

"I'm curious about you, captain." Jisung admits, reaching up to run the tip of his finger down Minho's cheekbone, and Minho practically growls at the physical contact.

Jisung had told him that siren songs were a myth, but then what the hell was happening to him right now?

His body was on fire. He'd never felt anything like this.

"What about me?" Minho manages to grate out through clenched teeth, suddenly wondering how Jisung's long dark hair would feel between his fingers.

Probably fucking amazing.

Jisung tips his head, his lips curving upward. "Do you have a lover? Perhaps, lovers?"

Minho doesn't miss the sharpness to Jisung's questions, but he can't quite put his finger on what emotion flickers across his dark eyes before it's gone.

"Life on the sea is lonely. That's just how it is." Minho remarks quietly, seriously. "I don't usually take it upon myself to get to know people long enough that I grow attached."

"Ah." Jisung hums like he understandings, flashing those sharp teeth at Minho as he smiles. "I see. A lone wolf type then."

"More like a jaded, cynical sea captain who doesn't stay in one port for more than a few days." Minho retorts back, his own lips starting to curl into the hint of a sardonic, humorless smile.

Jisung leans closer, and Minho catches the smell of driftwood and seaweed, before he's placing his palms against the planes of Minho's chest to steady himself.

His skin is warm, and Minho is sure the other man can feel his heart pick up pace beneath his touch.

"Interesting." Jisung muses softly, eyes never leaving Minho's. "What about someone in the crew? Your cook? She seems to like you." His lips hint at a smirk. "For whatever odd reason."

Minho scoffs beneath his breath, staring into the dark depths of Jisung's eyes, so much like the turbulent waves of the sea at night. "She's very sweet, but she's not my type."

"What is your type?" Jisung pushes, and Minho watches the way his plump pink lips form his words, hears the sultry lull of his voice, and fuck, if he isn't in trouble.

Fuck it. He's going to do it.

His hands find the curve of Jisung's tiny waist, and something inside of him settles into place.

"Sea dwellers who have a penchant for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, usually." Minho replies back in little more than a murmur, a smile tilting his lips as he stares at Jisung.

Jisung grins, all heart shaped and razor toothed.

"I've been waiting to hear you say that ever since I came aboard, captain."

Minho arches a brow. "I'm sure you had more pressing issues on your mind when we first met. Like how to escape my ship and crew."

Jisung shakes his head with a little, soft laugh that has Minho feeling warm all over.

"No way. I caught one glimpse of you, and you're all I've thought about ever since."

He's practically sitting in his lap now, arms around Minho's neck, and it takes next to nothing for him to lean forward and connect their mouths with a hunger that catches Minho off guard.

But Jisung's lips are soft and satiny, and he tastes like salt and sun, and soon, Minho finds himself slipping his tongue inside the other man's mouth, abandoning all previous hesitations.

Jisung groans into the kiss, and Minho tightens his grip on his waist, tugging him to him, running his hands up and down his body.

He swipes his tongue along the inside of Jisung's teeth, and a sharp painful sting has him pulling back abruptly, tasting a sudden salty, copper flow of blood in his mouth.

Jisung stares at him for a brief moment in horror, his eyes flicking to his lips, and Minho grins, bloody teeth and all.

"Seems like the stories were right about the razor sharp teeth."

"I'm sorry-" Jisung starts to squeak out, but Minho silences him with another kiss.

"Shut up-" He whispers, palming Jisung's face and tugging him down to him once more with a smirk. "-and let's get to the bottom of all the other myths."

********************************************************************************

"We need to talk about what happened last night."

Minho doesn't look at Jisung, staring through the spyglass at the approaching port, and consequently, the looming, bustling city behind it.

"Do we?" He queries back, his attention still on the direction of the hull, the speed of the wind, the slap of the waves.

"Yes." Jisung argues, standing in front of Minho with his hands on his hips, blocking his view with a scowl.

He drops his voice as Minho lets the spyglass drop with a sigh.

"We can't just-" He blushes, shrugging slightly, and Minho leans against the ship's wheel now, smirking with amusement. "-you know, and then not talk about it."

"Why?" Minho asks, enjoying watching Jisung squirm now, pinning him beneath his pointed gaze. "I do it all the time."

Jisung stomps his foot. He actually stomps his foot.

Minho resists the urge to laugh.

"Well I don't." Jisung pushes back, and Minho wants to pinch his cute red cheeks between his fingers.

He glances past Jisung as a flash of movement catches his eye, and sees his first mate standing down on the deck, staring up at them.

When he notices Minho looking at him, he leers, motioning to Jisung with a tip of his head, before he mimes rubbing gold coins between his fingers.

Minho has known the plan all along. He has.

But now that he can see the port, barely half a day's journey out, something sick and heavy settles into every bone in his body.

Suddenly, he knows, with an absolute certainty, that they can never talk about last night.

He brings his gaze back to the still pouting Jisung and steels his expression into something stern, something hard, something frozen.

When he speaks, his words are cold and firm, unyielding, unfeeling. "We will not be talking about last night, because that would blur the lines between us, giving you the false idea that you're anything more to me than incredibly lucrative cargo."

Jisung's face falls, and Minho feels something inside of him die.

"Minho-" Jisung whispers, reaching out a hand for him, and Minho jerks away, turning back to the ship's wheel and the deserted spy glass.

"You'll be confined to your quarters until we reach the port. My first mate will bring you ashore when we arrive. Until then, do not forget your place aboard my ship, sea dweller. You are still a captive here. Now, leave."

Minho doesn't let himself watch as Jisung walks away.

********************************************************************************

Minho eats alone that night.

And the next day, they reach the port.

He steps foot on shore as his crew begins to unload their cargo, and oversees the carting of dozens of boxes holding priceless, stolen artifacts to the warehouse before he allows himself to retire to the small residence he keeps here.

He doesn't see Jisung.

Maybe that's for the best. Not until the auction later tonight.

Minho spends all day trying to force his thoughts anywhere other than the upcoming bidding.

When the sun dips below the horizon, washing the sea in pink, Minho straightens his waistcoat and opens the door to reveal his first mate ready and waiting.

He arches a brow. "Well?"

The man grins, and steps aside, revealing Jisung's huddled frame hidden behind his large hulking one, clad in a pair of trousers and a loose linen shirt far too big for him.

Immediately, something inside Minho tolls a warning.

The man pushes Jisung toward Minho, and Jisung stumbles, pitching forward.

Minho catches him easily, holding him up, and the merman's skin burns against his own.

"What the fuck did you do?" Minho growls at his man, still keeping Jisung from hitting the ground, as the merman stares up at him with bleary, unfocused eyes.

His skin has been sapped of all color, and he's trembling so violently that Minho can feel the vibrations work their way through his own body.

The first mate shrugs.

"We just thought we shouldn't give 'im access to the water before the auction, cap'n, makes 'em too strong and his new keeper will want 'im sweet and docile, don't ya think?"

He has the audacity to grin and wink at Minho-wink-and Minho sees red.

He's trembling now too-trembling with fury, with rage-as he stares down at the beautiful merman in his arms, weak and helpless.

"Get out." Minho whispers, voice strangled, and the big man stares at him in confusion.

"Cap'n-"

"Get. Out." Minho roars, and the man scurries back down the path with his tail between his legs.

Minho doesn't waste time watching him go.

He carries Jisung bridal style into the house, already calling for one of the waiting men he employs on his small staff.

The man appears instantly, and if he's surprised to see his master carrying a limp man in his arms, he doesn't show it.

"Yes sir?"

Minho is already going up the stairs as he barks over his shoulder, "Get me my tub, bring it to my private quarters, and fill it to the brim. Now!"

The man rushes off to do his bidding.

Minho kicks in the door to his room, leaving dirty boot marks on the fine wood, and stands there for a moment, Jisung still in his arms.

He's not really sure what to do now.

Minho feels a brush of a finger on his cheek, and he glances down as Jisung's limp hand makes contact with his face in a little brush of acknowledgement.

Minho feels the panic well up again as he sees just how pale Jisung really is.

Where is that damn footman?

"I'm sorry-" Jisung whispers out, voice barely above a breath, but Minho shakes his head, cutting him off.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." And he means it. "I was a complete asshole, and you deserve so much better."

Jisung's lips part, as if he wants to say something, but all that comes out is a soft little puff of breath.

The footman appears, carrying Minho's large ornate copper tub, and as he settles it in front of the fire place, the maids follow, carrying large steaming buckets full to the brim with water.

They make quick work of filling the tub, and Minho dismisses them with a wave of his hand.

The footman shuts the door quietly on his way out.

Suddenly, Minho's unsure once again.

"Any water will do?" He asks Jisung, more than a little uncertain as he stares at the tub.

Maybe he needs to take him to the actual sea and dunk him beneath the waves-

Jisung is nodding weakly. "Yeah. Any water." He gives a hoarse little laugh. "Beggars can't be choosers."

Minho would laugh at the poorly timed joke if he weren't currently so worried he could scream.

He moves to place Jisung in the filled tub and pauses, glancing down at his clothes. "Do you want-?"

Jisung shakes his head in response. "It's fine. I can take them off when I get in."

Minho gives a curt nod, because the thought of undressing Jisung with the way his hands are currently trembling is probably not the best idea, and leans over the lip of the tub.

"Ready?" He asks softly, staring into Jisung large, dark eyes, and the merman nods.

Without another word, Minho carefully lowers the man's body into the water.

The effect is immediate.

Jisung's dull eyes regain their sparkle, his skin flushes with healthy copper again, the shuddering of his body stops completely, and before Minho can even think to react, he's laughing.

"Holy fuck. I really thought I wasn't going to make it that time." Jisung admits breathlessly, playing with the ripples of the water as he grins.

It's weird, but the water almost seems to want to move toward Jisung, encircling his body and lapping at his skin like it's greeting an old friend.

But the thing that really draws Minho's attention is the large, webbed tail hanging over the lip of the tub and dripping on the floor where Jisung's legs used to be, covered in shining, iridescent scarlet scales, that almost hurt Minho's eyes to look at directly.

Jisung must notice his gaze, because he flips his fins a little for Minho's perusal, his smile dropping just a little.

"Oh, right. You haven't seen this before."

The air is suddenly warm with something unsaid, as Minho takes a step closer to the tub, eyes still locked on the merman's large, muscular tail.

Jisung clears his throat and when he speaks, his words are laced with nervous energy.

"It's weird, I know, and people don't usually know how to react-"

"It's beautiful." Minho breathes, and Jisung immediately shuts up, jaw dropping, his large dark eyes watching as Minho takes another step, and then another.

"Really?" The other man asks quietly, his voice shaking slightly.

Minho nods, studying the sweeping pattern of the scales, the perfectly angled fins made for cutting through the water.

His hand itches to reach out, to touch-

He glances to Jisung for confirmation as his hand wavers just short of the tub, just short of the merman's magnificent scales.

"May I?" He asks, and Jisung gives a short nod.

Minho lets his hand rest on the curve of Jisung's tail, just below the fins, and the scales are rough beneath his palms, but almost slick at the same time, like the salt of the ocean coats them even when he's on land.

He feels the thousands of muscles move individually beneath his touch as Jisung moves his fins just a little, and Minho suddenly can't breathe.

This is amazing.

And weirdly intimate.

But surprisingly, Minho feels calmer than he's ever felt in his entire life.

Something inside of him settles into place, just like the night he kissed Jisung.

He glances up to see the merman watching him, and Minho holds his gaze, his hand still resting on his scales.

"How long do you stay like this?"

Jisung gives a little half shrug. "It's my natural form, so, forever, if I want? But it's kinda hard to get around on land with a tail."

He lifts his fins for good measure with a roguish grin that isn't good for Minho's heart.

"My legs will reappear when I leave the water if that's what I need at the time."

Minho nods thoughtfully, and then Jisung asks quietly, "Though, you might get a higher price if you let the bidders see my true nature."

Minho jerks his head up, everything coming to a crashing halt.

He removes his hand from Jisung as if he's been burned.

The red is back, creeping along the edges of his vision.

"I'm not going to let anyone else fucking touch you." He swears vehemently, and Jisung's eyes go wide.

His mouth forms a little 'o.'

"When did you-"

"The first night you ate dinner with me." Minho admits, his tone lowering, his expression gentling. "I knew you were no longer something I could ignore."

Jisung's lips curve up into the hint of a smile. "Not just cargo then?"

Minho winces slightly at his former, hurtful words and shakes his head. "It's been a long time since I thought of you that way."

Jisung cocks his head, studying him silently, and then he pushes himself up with his arms out of the water, and Minho watches in amazement as his tail swiftly splits and forms back into two very human, very naked, legs as he leaves the tub.

Minho tries to stop his thoughts-and his gaze-from wandering, as Jisung approaches him.

"Why, captain." He purrs, leaning over where Minho sits, his arms going on the arms of the chair. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you have a soft spot for me."

"I do." Minho murmurs back breathlessly, his eyes tracing the droplets of water that drip down Jisung's bare chest, and if he squints, he can almost see the shimmering, rippling scales from before along his rib cage, just beneath his human skin. "Stay with me."

Jisung's eyes widen again, and shock ripples across his pretty face at Minho's candid plea.

His expression turns thoughtful, and Minho lunges upward, capturing the merman's lips with his as he pivots them back toward his bed, intent on showing him just what it would mean if he stayed.

His hands rover over Jisung's bare skin, his lithe, toned body pinned beneath him, and when they break for a breath, Jisung's full lips are swollen, red and slick from kissing.

Minho wants to never let him come up for air.

"Do you have someone waiting for you?" Minho asks carefully, not really wanting to hear the answer, but needing to know.

Jisung's lips curve into a teasing smile, one that has Minho's heart thudding against his chest.

He reaches up to brush Minho's long hair back behind his ear, his fingers playing with the piercings there.

"No." He finally says, slight amusement in his tone at the hopeful look that crosses Minho's face. He laughs, tugging Minho down for another kiss, where he murmurs against his lips, "Though there might be a certain merman that's severely going to miss our non-committed, no strings attached romps."

Minho growls at that, low in his throat, and pins Jisung's hands above his head, even as he laughs.

"Could he make you feel as good as I do?" Minho demands, lowering his lips to Jisung's bare skin, and Jisung's breath hitches.

"No." He admits again, breathless now, and Minho sucks a mark onto his heaving pec. "Minho, fuck, I-"

"What?" Minho growls out, letting his teeth scrap across the writhing Merman's bare hip bone.

"I haven't stopped thinking about that night since it happened." Jisung gasps out, arching up into Minho, and Minho's fingers dig into his hips.

He can almost feel the rough scales beneath his fingertips if he tries hard enough.

"Good." Minho remarks back, leaning over to plant a quick kiss onto Jisung's full, red lips. "Because I'm going to make every night feel like the first for as long as we both live."

Jisung arches a brow, lips curving. "Promise?"

Minho rewards his cheeky tone with a nip to the full, plush skin of his bottom lip, and thinks, for just a moment, that he's never been happier.

"Promise."

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dinoburger · 2 years ago

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I scraped as many forums as I could find for more info and theories on Eastward, I know a lot of folks were as confused as I was so I wanted to compile everything I could find and remember - hopefully it clears things up a little more

consider this a work in progress, I might correct or add things, will also try to add sources where possible - a lot of stuff is just so scattered and there's so much info that it's hard to do

also, if anyone has anything to add, clarifications, other observations etc., feel free to mention them here, this is just a general rundown of all the info I could find and what's relevant

Mother, Charon and the MIASMA

Mother and Charon were created in tandem, one to purge humanity and the other to rebuild it from scratch every time

the ultimate goal of Mother, Charon and the human factories is to create the perfect version of humanity

human pods can create totally custom human beings, but this isn't enough

Mother was created for and is used to power the human factories

there's a line of dialogue that implies the older Solomon was actually in charge of Mother before the sea captain, Cap'n Pam took her from him

(this could confirm that Solomon is indeed some kind of harvester, or was supposed to be but decided to protect Ester City specifically - the Rocket Knight Legion also talks about being afraid of the MIASMA so it's at least known about before the time loop is set in place)

Mother was actually fairly close to the Rocket Knight Legion during her time living in Ester City (to the point where Sam feels sad about them, even when she hadn't known them long herself)

at some point after knowing the Rocket Legion, Mother must have become embittered towards humanity again

I found where the "53 cycles" comes from! This little tidbit, so yes it seems like at the least, Whitewhale Bay has seen 53 total wipes from the MIASMA

Sam

the prevailing theory about Sam and Mother is that the pods that created her are scattered all over Eastward, Mother's immortality is secured by having herself cloned and then using her psychic abilities to project her consciousness into the new body

(Charon may also be tied to sustaining Sam's immortality somehow? we've sort of seen this through Alva, being cloned and spread throughout the land after Isabel somehow merges her with Charon, she becomes a free-floating spirit type thing, idk I guess there are also canonical ghosts so that might not be as much a side effect of Charon, who the fuck even knows)

this works with the aforementioned information about Mother powering the human factories

using a huge burst of her psychic energy in Greenberg is speculated to be the reason why she temporarily lost her memories of there too

John

John is in his 40's

it's theorized that John is selectively mute due to his lack of dialogue, there are instances where it's implied he talks though and one instance of Sam suggesting that John reads to her (it shows that he can talk circumstantially)

New Dam City

Isabel was genetically engineered and created in a human factory, this is confirmed in a dialogue between her and Solomon

Alva and Lee's grandfather came from Ester City and invented the Buddha fan

(This likely makes Lee and Alva siblings or cousins - it's not 100% confirmed as the Wiki calls them childhood friends, but they grew up together under the same roof from a young age and both refer to their grandfather as their grandfather)

(We do not know anything about Lee and Alva's actual parents though, so they may very well be adoptive grandchildren - Hillman says something to the effect of "I don't know what your grandfather saw in that boy" to Alva, perhaps backing up that Lee was taken on rather than already biologically related)

Isabel was also picked up by Lee and Alva's grandfather (it seems like this was later down the timeline, Lee and Alva were likely a bit older when she was introduced, which is why her relationship with Alva seems more romantic in nature than familial)

Lee, Alva and their grandfather used to live in Oldtown when the two kids were small, their grandfather's old house is adjacent to a human factory that Mother complains is damaged beyond repair and has specimens missing

this is where we can assume Isabel was found and how the grandfather managed to save the people of Oldtown before the MIASMA struck, by learning when it was coming and vandalizing the factory

(I don't know if it's confirmed whether the grandfather is dead or alive, Alva talks about "borrowing" his mansion but it's never really delved into I don't think)

(man I don't even think we get a clear explanation as to why the slime breeding furnace was needed or how the cure that Alva was trying to make was supposed to work)

Solomon

the original Professor Solomon created the time barrier to "protect" Ester City, keeping everyone trapped inside

the younger iteration(s) of Solomon are most likely clones (old Solomon has been trapped inside Ester City for possibly thousands of years? he does manage to survive for a while outside the time loop though meaning either he does have the tech to sustain himself for that long, or even old Solomon is a clone of a much much older Solomon)

(I believe it's never made clear whether there are in fact two younger Solomon clones running around - one in New Dam and the other in Ester City's time fog - or if time shenanigans cause the initial young Solomon clone to have aged and forget Sam and John)

young Solomon, Sam and Isabel are all depicted with some form of psychic powers (young Solomon levitates, Sam is obvious and Isabel can create projections of herself seen in the penultimate fight) - and if the clone theory is correct then all were also created in human factories, perhaps insinuating that the ultimate form of humanity is supposed to have powers of some sort

in the final fight with Solomon he talks about "the other one", he knows the duality of Sam's existence and her being possessed by Mother (likely what spurs him to instigate the final attack on the party to force Mother back into control)

Ester City

Guy is the original creator of Earth Born, he also created something called an "emotion chip" designed for the robot citizens of Eastward (I guess to process emotions more naturally?)

Livy engineered the Sandrupes that populate Crockpot Isle

the Time Isles (I believe that's what the island location out from Ester City is called?) also have what look to be the same crabs as the ones found in Crockpot Isle

the Finale

I think there's essentially two theories about what really happens in the ending, after Sam sacrifices herself to destroy Mother

riding off the former theory, future Sam is another pod clone (likely one who is no longer possessed by Mother, or possibly a reformed version of both Sam and Mother that just doesn't have her memories yet)

the second one is time shenanigans of some sort, Sam managing to alter time itself during her sacrifice

a lot of this was just what I could scrape from Reddit or stuff that's in the game

I'm also crediting this essay for bringing up the psychic stuff mainly because I did not notice it

#eastward

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the-kneesbees · 1 year ago

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🎧🎶Shuffle your favourite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favourite mutuals. 🎶🎧

thanks lee :)

I've tried to post this like three times but tumblr keeps throwing a fit about it...let's hope it works this time

scary kids scaring kids by cap'n jazz

breathing in stereo by modern baseball

naruto themed sexting by panuccis pizza

tears over beers by modern baseball

lookout by modern baseball

#lee!!#can you tell i really like modern baseball #also you can just. ignore that third one. its not important..

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donde-ver-pawpatrol-pelicula · 1 year ago

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Cuando Estrena Paw Patrol la super

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toontownportraits · 2 years ago

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aheehee things from aggie with @the-meme-monarch @ibsaasthoughtsatnight @acrobatunstabled

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rogaire-a · 3 years ago

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@finnegansson sent: ‘‘ Shay! SHAY!” Declan points towards Gist in an attempt to provide a distraction: “Look over there!” as a snowball comes HURTLING towards Shay with the precision only a sharpshooter could muster. (😜😇😂)

He should have known something was up when Declan stayed behind him. Not that he didn't trust his friend, quite the contrary, he would entrust him with his life, but he's long learned to recognize when Declan was up to something. He got a certain glint in his eye that promised nothing good. Shay thought to have caught sight of it for a moment, but he just chose to ignore it. A great mistake.

The snowball hit his back just as he was about to turn and Shay shivered, muttering an indignant fuck as some snow slid on his bare neck. He would compliment him for his aim, but his attention snapped to Gist which had burst out laughing. Gist, who has been silently watching the scene on the Morrigan. That bastard.

‘‘ So you put it this way- “ grinning, Shay crouched down to gather some snow in his hands, never once leaving Declan's gaze. “ How ‘bout we see who’s got the best aim. “ and without hesitation, he hurls a snowball right to his stomach.

#finnegansson #CAP'N AT THE HELM // IC #( V. / MAIN )#( snowball fight at Fort Arsenal ??? BRING IT ON #Gist might have taken Declan's side but Shay just gonna call JACK for support >:)#it's all fun and games until you accidentally hit people like Monro or Haytham😰#or JOHNSON-#if it's Lee then it might not be an accident vdhbjn )

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nevinslibrary · 2 years ago

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Comic Book Saturday

I was excited to try this graphic novel, for one thing because it’s another one in water color! And, I did indeed love the art, and, the story was awesome too.

It’s the story of Trot and her tom cat Cap’n Bill. They get swept under the sea by a giant wave. They were out looking for Trot’s grandfather who has dementia and went missing. She finds all sorts of things under the sea, and, she even gets pulled into an undersea battle between those who rescue her, the sirens, and the sea serpents.

I loved the cat, I loved the plot, and the world building in this was just amazing as well. It was such a all around amazing adventure for the characters, and for the readers. And, I mean, the cat. I dare anyone to try and resist the awesome character of Cap’n Bill. Guess I’m a sucker for a grumpy cat.

You may like this book If you Liked: Mighty Jack by Ben Hatke, The Boy Who Crashed to Earth by Judd Winick, or Pacey Packer, Unicorn Tracker by J.C. Phillipps

Sea Sirens: A Trot and Cap'n Bill Adventure by Amy Chu

#nmlRA #nevins memorial library #comicbooksaturday #sea sirens #amy chu #janet k lee #trot and cap'n bill adventure

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iraia-gamer · 2 months ago

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me tickling cap'n

Credits to the cap'n of deltaplume of @fluffymary

#fluffymary #Lee!cap'n #ler!iraia(me)

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cxra-melty · 2 years ago

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Are you excited for Splatoon 3? Also if you're still accepting requests for fanfics could you write some lee agent/captain 3? Thank you and have a nice day! -🥚

This ask made me feral i fucking love lee captain 3 and fuck yes im so excited for splatoon 3 my friends are all sick and tired of me talking about it

Anyways this is probably bad but whatever it's hard, honest work and that's all that matters.

Also this has gn!Captain 3 because its my fic and I said so

Word count: 1,139 words

"Ugh, you two are so childish," Agent- no, Captain Three rolled their eyes as they passed by the two former idols wrestling on the ground. "Is there nothing better for you to do while we wait for the new recruit to get here?"

"SHEHEHEHE STARTED IT!" Callie cried out as her cousin continued to tickle her mercilessly.

"I did not!" Marie pouted as she reached down to tickle Callie's belly, snickering as she heard the inkling shriek beneath her. "You tickled me fiRST!"

Callie reached out in a hysterical frenzy, somehow getting ahold of Marie's sides and tickling her back.

"HEY, CUHUHUT IT OUT!!" Marie pulled back, now focused on pulling Callie's hands away instead of tickling. "CAHAHAHAHAL, YOU WIHIHIN!!"

Callie pulled away from Marie, smirking triumphantly at the white inkling below her. Despite how ticklish Marie was, it wasn't common for Callie to win one of the tickle fights between the two. She always used the excuse of her cousin being a better tickler. The black inkling looked up to see the captain watching the two in slight amusement.

"Three, look!" She grinned. "I did it! I beat Marie in a tickle fight!!"

"Good for you," The captain was unimpressed by the feat, slowly clapping as they rolled their eyes.

"Three, why do you gotta be so serious all the time?!" Callie complained. "Ever since you became captain, you've been such a drag. You're acting just like granny over here."

"Hey-!"

"I'm not a drag," Three crossed their arms, choosing to look into the vast distance instead of Callie. "I just don't participate in your dumb games. Tickling's for baby squids."

Callie pouted as Marie shoved the other away from her, still sour after their fight. However, after a few seconds, Callie hurried to whisper in Marie's ear.

"... You're an idiot, you know that?" Marie whispered to her cousin. "We're gonna get splatted if we do that."

"They'll be fine!" Callie grinned. "A little tickling never hurt anybody!"

"Ugh, fine," Marie rolled her eyes. "But if the cap'n starts attacking us, I'm using you as a shield."

After a few seconds, the two nodded in a silent agreement. The two agents walked over to their captain and stood beside them on each side as Three was still looking around. Callie then leaned over and wrapped her arms around Three, which seemed to snap the inkling out of their trance with the screen.

"What are you doing?" They raised an eyebrow at her, unaware of the mischievous former idol slowly reaching over.

"Giving you a hug!" Callie said, hugging them even tighter. "What, don't tell us you're too good for hugs now, Three."

"I'm not," Three shook their head. "I just-HEY!"

Both women giggled at the uncharacteristic squeak the captain let out as Three trying to pull away from Callie. Looking behind as they stifled laughter, Three saw Marie tickling their sides.

"Marie quit it!" Three hissed, thrashing in Callie's arms.

She just giggled and shook her head as she started moving, wiggling her fingers up and down Three's ribs. Three felt their face heat up as they did their best not to laugh, refusing to give the two the satisfaction of getting them to laugh. Despite the captain's best efforts, Three couldn't prevent a few squeaks and giggles from being heard.

"Wow, part of me didn't really think this would work," Callie admitted. "I just kinda hoped you were ticklish. Maybe this is why you never joined in on tickle fights- you're too ticklish!"

"It is not!" Three managed to get out through their giggling. "Both of you, knock it off!"

"Nah," Marie gave them a shit-eating grin.

"No way!" Callie shook her head.

Three opened their mouth to yell at the two, but closed it again immediately as Marie switched spots. The agent had moved from their ribs to their underarms and had started switching up how she tickled, too. Every few seconds, Marie would go from slow, methodical strokes to quick scribbling.

"Nohohoho!!" Three finally burst into loud giggling, much to the Squid Sisters' joy. "Ahahas your cahahaptain, I ordeher you to-NOHOHO, CUHUHUT IT OUT!!!"

"Oh?" Marie raised an eyebrow as she tickled faster. "Bad spot, huh, Captain?"

"YEHEHEHES!!" Three admitted as they thrashed in Callie's grip, kicking their feet wildly. "STOHOHOP IT, IT TIHIHIHICKLES!!"

"Nope!" Callie giggled. "This might be the only time we'll ever be able to do this, so we've gotta make it last as long as possible! Right, Marie?"

"That's right," Marie snickered. "Hey, Captain, where else are you ticklish at?"

"I'M NAHAHAT TELLING YOU, NOHOHOW STOHOHOP IT!!" Captain 3 ordered, accidentally sending a flip flop flying in the air in the midst of their hysterical laughter.

"Geez, you're really ticklish for someone who's so moody and quiet all the time," Marie chuckled, dragging a finger up their back.

"ACK-MAHAHAHARIEHEHEHE!!" Three shrieked as they arched their back.

"Oh?" Marie asked. "I wouldn't have guessed that your back would be so ticklish, captain."

"STOHOHOP, PLEHEHEHEASE!!" Three cackled, occasionally letting out a snort that both former idols cooed at. "I CAHAHAN'T TAHAHAKE IT, PLEHEASE!!!"

"Alright, fine." Marie pulled away from the inkling. "That was too much fun, we're definitely gonna do this again."

Three gasped for air, their hat sitting lopsided on their head as they went limp in Callie's arms. The inkling only giggled as she squeezed them even tighter for a second before letting them go. Much to Callie's surprise, the captain continued to lay on her, resting their head on her shoulder as they caught their breath. Three let out a few more giggles as they panted, reaching up to remove their hat. Slowly, they backed away from Callie, and the latter gulped as she saw the captain's face. Callie opened her mouth to speak, but Three smacked her in the face with their hat before she could get a word out.

"You two are so dead." Three growled as they hit Callie again before getting up from their seat and starting to chase after the two.

"Wait, we're sorry!" Callie cried as she narrowly dodged being hit a third time.

"C'mon, learn to take a joke-OW!" Marie was cut off as Three hit her back. "Callie, I told you they were gonna be pissed!"

"I thought we'd be splatted and that'd be the end of it!" She pouted.

"Oh, if I had my Hero Shot, I'd have already splatted you both," Three glared at the two as they slowed down, putting their cap back on. "You two are lucky I needed to get it repaired today."

"Thank cod for that." Callie gave her cousin a nervous grin.

"But," They continued. "Since you two were so adamant on getting me to join in on your dumb stuff, I'm gonna get you back."

"I'd like to see you try, Captain," Marie chuckled. "Good luck trying to catch us."

The captain groaned, rolling their eyes before seeing a figure in the distance. "Look, I think that's the newbie."

"Yay, fresh meat!" Callie cheered.

"Nice. Maybe this one will know how to joke around." Marie smirked, dodging an elbow to the side.

#chi writes #chi stfu #splatoon tickles #tickle fic #this took longer than it should have #sorry anon #hope you like it anyway #this isnt proofread or beta read so if there are lots of mistakes #cry about it idk

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stormthail · 2 years ago

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Vahar Stormthail

Description

Tall, tattooed, scarred, and scaly. This sums this Stormy demon hunter up in a nut shell.

The tattoo that snakes over his torso a symbol is that of Pain.

He may have certain attributes that may seem appealing within the spectrum of a certain type of a selective gaze.

He works hard on maintaining tip top physical condition.

At times his garb is utter trash, forgive him. With a small amount of effort in convincing him it's worth it, he can clean up nice.

His hair is the same way. Sometimes he is well groomed other times he appears as if he is doing the long walk of shame. A disheveled mess, bed head, and well, a walking disaster.

Personality

Confident, and Playfully Dark, in tone. if one can get past the veil he wears, those fang filled smiles Vahar may just start to begin appear sincere... or not....

It's just hard to tell, if he cares or not, or if he's serious, or not. it's a tango like dance, from what is displayed and what is reality. He seems to like to avoid responsibility, or accountability for his own actions, or perhaps he just revels in the chaos he brings in his wake. He can be found wickedly bantering back and forth in debate, when in truth he knows exactly what trouble he has caused.

He can spew a slew of lovely varieties of pet names he'll give to others. The mannerism of his voice dripping with a sarcastic edge to his tone, may make it hard to figure out if he is being insulting, or being genuine. The duplicity of his personality and nature has something to do with which demon he had bonded to in his ritual to become, as he has. Regardless of the reasons he may do it, he seems to like reactions, of any kind...

For that he can't exactly be reclusive, or brooding, he needs an in, and that - in - is an entrance with an almost effective seductive smile.

Other things

May be seen with an all seeing eye called Buttercup that gives him intel where he may be lacking.

Theme song : Devil Like You - Gareth Dunlop

RP Hooks

Rp hooks... This Demon hunter acts like he has it together, but man, oh man, he needs help. Feel free to call him out his bullshit! Feel free to make an unusual and quirky friend, with the foreknowledge going in that the character your's may be talking to is damaged goods.

Anyone that is an Illidari, or Kaldorei can and may have a past with Stormthail, past school mates, past friends, lovers, brothers in arms, you name it from friends to foes. Just toss a suggestion my way, however, it's not required, obligated, or even needed. Just something to have fun with. :D

Relationships

Therapist: Yes, he is seeing one. No lie, they are real, and have a name! The good doctor Reynali Dreamweaver, sees him as often as his schedule provides, with a lovely touch of the void as far as therapy goes.

Storm's theme for the good doctor : Gary Wright - DreamWeaver

The Captain: He may be seen conversing gleefully with the Dark and Dire Captain of the Wellerman, Rand Morley.

Storm's theme song for the Cap'n : The Spencer Lee Band - The Wolf

Brother in Arms: Storm may be seen traversing and hanging around with a fellow illidari by the name of Aveross.

Storm's theme song for Ave : Avicii - Hey Brother

Partner in crime: He can be found most often gallivanting around with a fellow Illidari by the name of Ebon Night in tow. There is an odd chemistry between them, one that may be difficult to pin point as to what it is between them. Perhaps, they are ex-lovers, Perhaps they are currently, on the other hand it may be purely platonic like mindedness in nature being that they are both illidari, it may just be a mutual understanding.

Stormy's theme song for Ebony : Horns- bryce fox

History

There are the countless innocent casualties in the waves of war. In fact with the exceptions of a few ill mannered bastards, war is chock full of instances where it is accountable for the death of innocence.

What some considered a fueled passion, a direction, were those same that had never considered it to become a self inflicted illness, or later seen as a blighted cursed existence. When that inner fire becomes all consuming it devours little by little like any other sickness, where there are no thoughts beyond the end game. One goal locked and loaded in one's soul towards survival no matter the cost, or sacrifice. Blinded by this drive until everything around it withers. There is no other recourse to maintain this sort of dark passion, but to confine it, to manage it, by resisting the temptation of release that it offers, to deny it the satisfaction of ever breathing life outside it's barred cage.

Vahar, restless, tired of the lack of control in every portion of his life sought out as most do in desperate moments to regain what had been taken from him. His past life of who he knew, or once cared for really didn't matter so much then, and really doesn't matter in the now. What mattered most in the process of what he was to become were when the tools of regaining that sense of control was practically handed to him.

Vahar believed he was armed with the true name of his intended demon, the name he scryed that gave him power over the demon to fix it to the mortal plane. However, there had been a mishap, another had received his demon's and he anothers'.

Vahar being a thero'shan by tradition defiled his body with the demon soul with his own hand to signify that his commitment was genuine, and only by his choice that he made this sacrifice of his afterlife.

The dark incantation was spoken to awaken the binding circle and the final word of power was uttered to activate the runic tattoos etched upon the flesh of Vahar during the ritual of marking. To Vahar's surprise it was not the demon of his first hunt that was captured and summoned forth, but another that appeared. Not the Nathrezim he had captured, but a Sayaadi, however, it was too late to go back at this point.

The thero'shan Vahar, swiftly took the ritual dagger inscribed Vahar hoped, was the true name of the demon. He carved out the heart of his not exactly chosen demon, then devoured it, and drank half the vial of its toxic blood.

The binding circle had redirected the demon soul inside the cage of Vahar's mind before it escaped into the nether. The ritual dagger with the true name was plunged into Vahar's torso to engage the first part of its seal. The unconsciousness of the student Vahar followed.

After Vahar, the Thero'shan returned to the realm of reality once more and had proven him capable to subjugating their demon soul to his will. Va'har's Shan'do had immediately evoked a marking of specially patterned tattoos to suppress the demon soul within its internal prison. The honored teacher had emptied the other half of the blood vial into a mortar and mix with other herbal regents to dilute the bloods thickness along with an alkaline until the acidic qualities of the mixture is safe enough to not completely consume the skin of the student. The blood will serve as a conduit for the magical pathways in which the demons entrapped essence will flow.

Vahar awoke after the transition, restrained upon the alter with shackles imbued with a magical spell of immobilization. As the ritual of marking began by way of hand needle is an extremely tedious and painstakingly long process.

The same ritual dagger to trace the general runic patterns. The markings snaked around Vahar's torso to signify a cage or bars to hold the demons essence at bay in the body while simultaneously distributing the demon's essence in ways that would augment Vahar's power and persona of traits and abilities.

Birds of a feather and all that goes with it, and with flying with a such a fel bound flock he wound up imprisoned with the rest of his lot. Vahar remained stewing there suspended, unable to achieve that destiny he had been crafted, and designed for. When that precious release came, he like the rest of his freed brethren were back in flight. Their cause of a darker type of migration as the weapons of war fell upon their foes, and had vanquished the threat. The Legion, as an organized army, had been defeated, yet, there are still demons out there. Possibly more dangerous now than before, as they are no longer are under the thumb of control. They are like the illidari had been, and are now frighteningly, free...

There is of course still plenty of work to be done....

#Vahar Stormthail #character spotligh

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