#she's explored most of the land so she's turning her attention to the sea

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 157

Ellie is quite enjoying herself. She’s exploring the ocean while her Template-Dad finishes his college homework, and honestly there’s so many absolutely awesome things down here! She absolutely loves exploring, and is also excited to test out some things Danny made for her like a camera that should be able to take proper pictures of everything! 

Meanwhile there’s a couple of rather concerned atlanteans wondering where the heck this glowing chirping child came from and why they’re so far from the surface. 

[moonkissed-reverence]

Elain & Azriel visit the Summer Court

An Elriel one-shot

A dreamy tryst at the sea…

Writers note: I’m dipping my toes in the waters of fanfic inspired by Elriel. Just for fun. This is my first ever, I hope you enjoy. 🩷

The sky was filled with puffs of salt kissed clouds billowing above the turquoise sea.

Elain brought a basket of fresh fruits, a variety of cheeses, crackers & a bottle of rosé that she procured from the local market that morning. They enjoyed the refreshments while lounging lazily on a blanket on the sand. Azriel feeding Elain bites of cheese, Elain feeding Azriel figs while they both sipped the chilled wine.

“This is the most perfect day”, Elain sighed joyously, tossing her head back, feeling the ocean breeze through the waves of her golden brown locks.

Azriel bathed in the sight of her glistening in the sunlight, she was radiant. His attention pulled her gaze to him. She tilted her head to the side in wonder, but his look told her he was feeling exactly as she. Lovestruck. His stunning beauty, his golden skin glowing under the sun, his dark curls damp with salt water, hazel eyes bright and piercing.

“Every day with you is a perfect day”, he finally said, pulling her in close, kissing her temple. She turned into him finding his lips, kissing him gently while slowly falling back on the blanket. Azriel ran his thumb over the plush of her lips, running his scarred hands down the delicate curves of her body before rolling her onto him. She lay atop him, exploring his features, tracing his cheekbones and marking the planes of his face, admiring his god-like beauty.

It felt so good to share their affection out in the open without the worry of being caught and they were determined to enjoy this day in each other’s arms.

The sun eventually began to set, the sky turning shades of purple and pink, its reflection glowing upon the sea. Elain ran into the ocean, twirling and splashing about. “Come Azriel, come swim with me!”, she cried out joyously, laughing and spinning through the water. As Azriel gracefully strolled towards her, she ran to him grabbing his hands and pulling him behind her into the sparkling waters. He twirled her around and they played and laughed, his wings splaying and dripping with seawater.

In a swift maneuver, Azriel swooped her into his arms and took flight. Elain gasped in shock but Azriel gave her a reassuring squeeze, “I’ve got you”, he whispered in her ear as they glided over the glittering sea.

As they few through the clouds, feeling safe in his arms, she relaxed and enjoyed the salty breeze against her skin and the breathtaking view.

After a short flight over the ocean, Azriel gently landed them to shore, keeping her in his arms long after they grounded. She leaned back against his solid form and after a few moments she turned in his arms to meet his gaze. “Thank you”, she said, caressing his cheek, “for the most magical day, Azriel. She paused in thought, then sighed as she said, “Must we go home?”

He said nothing, just pulled her into him. They stood that way, holding each other for a long while, breathing each other in as the stars began winking out into the dusk sky.

[sunandsstars]

JUST THE START

Lo’ak x Metkayina!Reader

Summary: It was like love at first sight, he’s never seen anyone so beautiful. Lo’ak is determined to gain ___’s affections and his brother is all for the ride. Warnings: Mentions of Na’vi racism, Swearing, Harsh parenting, Deep waters Word count: 2.7k

The reef people where strange, their tails were big, their arms and legs had a funny shape, they were a different shade of blue…

But their home was beautiful, it was unlike anything the Sully boy has ever seen. Their way of life was similar to his, yet they are apart of the water and his people the forest. The creatures they ride were different and the ‘breathing’ they do was hard to adjust to nevertheless. But at least he had his siblings with him so he wasn’t alone.

They were currently a few weeks into their new home, it was hard leaving the Omaticaya people but for the safety of his family it had to be done. His sister TukTuk found it easy to adapt, she enjoyed the ilu riding and Tsireya was a great companion, she was eager to teach his younger sister the way of water. Kiri was an enigma, she wasn’t happy with being here naturally. But once she saw the sea for the first time, she gained new opinion. She was quick to learn and very eager, often going off by herself to swim and sometimes Lo’ak would catch her sitting by herself and staring at the fish circling her body, ‘what a weirdo’

Neteyam hung out a lot with their parents, helping Neytiri with hunting and gathering food for the family. Talking with Jake about their lessons they each respectively took part of, and they sometimes whispered about home. Sometimes he hung out with Tuk, it was favouritism really, even though they had a big age gap they held a close relationship.

Lo’ak spent most of his time alone, if he wasn’t being taught breathing by Tsireya he was out in the reefs with his ilu, admiring his new home. Right now that is exactly what he was doing. Taking time for himself he swam under the water, exploring what was inside the barriers. Eclipse was near, but he didn’t care, his heart ached at the thought of going back to his family, he knew his dad would get angry at him for going so far from the shore and at such a late time.

An ilu call caught his attention, his ear wiggled and he glanced towards his left, narrowing his eyes and looking at the bioluminescent glow that’s starting to appear. The call then came from his right and he felt a tap upon his shoulder, jumping he turned around. There was a Metkayina girl on an ilu smiling at him. ‘’what are you doing out here, it is getting late’’ she signed, caught off guard he didn’t know how to respond. He cant remember ever seeing her around before, was she Tsireya’s friend? Ao’nung’s? Eywa give him strength if she was apart of his crew.

‘’I could ask you the same” he responded, deciding to be docile. She doesn’t seem to mind the fact he was the ‘demon’ of the village, despite staring at his extra finger.

‘’your family noticed you were gone and I volunteered to come get you’’ she started to direct her ilu in the direction of home. Motioning for him to follow her back ‘what was she doing with my family?’. He followed her, questions bouncing around his head and when they resurfaced from the water they got louder. They both were heading towards the Olo’eyktan’s and Tsahìk’s murai. ‘What’s going on. Shit, is it me? Am I in that big of trouble?’ Lo’ak wouldn’t push it past him, his father always had something to complain about when it came to him. 

‘’Daughter, you were gone for a while, we are happy you found him’’

‘DAUGHTER?’ Lo’ak was the most confused he’s ever been, ignoring his mum who was pulling his ear and opting to look at the girl who brought him back. He didn’t remember her from when the Sully’s first landed on the beach, only getting face to face with Ao’nung and seeing Tsireya, but now as he really saw her out of the darkness of the water, she really did hold a resemblance to her parents. With wavy black hair and pretty wide blue eyes, she was also wearing the traditional Metkayinan clothes with excessive jewellery. 

‘’I apologise father, he was quite hard to find’’ she turned go Lo’ak and introduced herself as ___ daughter of Tonowari and Ronal, future Tsahìk of the Metkayina clan. Lo’ak did the motion of ‘I see you’ in respect, only because his mother did a whack to the back of his head. ___ returned it giggling and sat in between her siblings, she was Tsireya’s twin he noticed. They looked so similar.

‘’___ has been busy with duties so she has been unable to properly talk to you all at the start, and recently she was away with divers outside the reef! She has returned today’’ Tsireya explained seeing the confusion in his eyes and fiddled with some trinkets her sister brought back for her, giving a shell to Tuk when asked. 

‘Yes and in turn abandoned her Tsahìk duties. We were supposed to go over healing herbs this week again’’ Ronal complained, she was happy her daughter is back and safe. But the duties of tsakarem were important, especially if her daughter was supposed to lead the people. 

‘Enough of this, our child is back and Toruk Makto and his family are here. We must eat’’ Tonowari wanted no conflict tonight, he invited the Sully’s to talk to Jake about the skypeople. They have been sighted by reef divers outside the boarders, far enough to not be near Awa’atlu and harm the clan but they were near enough to be trouble. As long as they took their weird demon ship away from them, Tonowari wont take the warriors to fight. 

As the family’s conversed between each other and ate, Lo’ak caught himself sneaking glances at ___. She was pretty, very pretty. The way the white freckles decorated her teal skin really made her look as if she was made by the great mother’s own hands. Neteyam noticed his brothers distraction and smirked, he, the mighty warrior, will come up with a plan. He will be his little bros wingman. 

However, on the other side of the murui Ao’nung wasn’t having the best time. He noticed the forest boys fleeting eyes at his sister, he will not tolerate it. But his parents would be angry if he caused a commotion, so he let it slide.. for now. He turned to his little sisters ‘’you know that freak keeps staring at you right’’ he whisper growled, his fangs making a slight appearance.

A tail hit his back, ‘’do not call him that brother, he might just be curious, he hasn’t seen me until now yes? Let him be’’___ whispered back, looking at the boy mentioned who only tuned his head quickly, not wanting to face the embarrassment of being caught. 

Tsireya also noticed her friends glances at her twin and overheard what her brother said, glaring at Ao’nung. She didn’t like how he was causing the Sully kids trouble, just because their father was from the sky doesn’t mean they should be labelled as freaks. Her eyes turned to Lo’ak and caught contact with Neteyam who was still cheekily smiling at his brother, they nodded to one another and Tsireya grinned. They were plotting.

After last nights events the Sully’s left to their own hut to get some shut eye and Neteyam made little comments the whole way, teasing his younger brother knowingly. Lo’ak smacked him on the arm growling ‘’shut the hell up moron’’. But deep down he knew his brother knew, he was infatuated with her. He never was with the girls back at the forest but this Metkayinan was different, he could feel it.

The sun rose high up in the sky and made the water glisten, Lo’ak and his siblings where joined by ___and hers, along with Rotxo. They were all tasked with teaching the Omaticayan’s on breathing, they were good but there was so much to improve. 

___ was sat next to Lo’ak who’s heart was racing, her hands were on his chest and stomach, feeling him. ‘’your heart is beating too fast, you must slow it down’’ she advised, how would he ever be under the water for long periods if he cannot breath properly?. 

The boy closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, his hearts pacing slowing down more. He held a breath and cleared his mind of anything..and anyone. After a while he opened his eyes and immediately took notice of his teacher. His heart pace grew fast again and was noticeable with how his chest rose and fell, and he exhaled to breath properly. His tail flicked in embarrassment ‘fuck did she notice?’

‘’Lo’ak you were doing so well’’ she tutted. Neteyam grinned and his ears perked up, he caught eyes with Rotxo who grinned back. They knew. Kiri however was not amused and rolled her eyes ‘boys’.

Wanting to get his sister away from that skxawng as soon as possible, Ao’nung proposed diving again and everyone agreed. It was good practice being under. The kids all tried calling their own ilus, the blue Na’vis sounding absolutely ridiculous (Lo’ak accidentally calling a mating call) but Kiri’s, somehow she was a natural at this. 

The Metkayinans laughed and connected their queues, going under and directing their students further from the shore. They all did their own tricks in the water, looping over rocks and sometimes jumping out of the water doing flips, calling out like warriors going to battle. ___ grinned, she missed home. Being out the reef was fun and all, but there’s nothing better than being with family like this. 

Lo’ak caught up to her and swam in loops around her, smiling when she copied his actions. Bubbles were created and obstructed their view from behind, they didn’t notice knowing looks from a curtain warrior. Creep. 

‘’Hey lets go towards the cove’’ Rotxo signed, there was a cove far down beneath the water. It was filled with many glowing fish, some cool shells and rocks and lots of oceanic fauna. It also had a large air pocket and some rocky land for them to breath and sit down in. 

‘’Cove?’’ Tuktirey signed, curiosity getting the best of her. She looked at her sister who shrugged and motioned them all to go to the surface. They swam up and inhaled the fresh air. ‘’what is this cove?’’

‘’It is deep within the water, but it is cool to hang out in’’ Rotxo explained, his friend nodded and agreed. 

‘’But you are forest people, your breathing might not even last long enough to reach it’’ Ao’nung teased and Tsireya smacked the back of his head, scolding him.

The Sully siblings all looked to each other with determination, they could do it. ‘’Where is it?’’ Lo’ak called out, not one to back down from a challenge, especially from an ass like him. 

‘’Follow me’’ ___ directed everyone to take a big breath and went below the surface once again. They all followed her as she went deeper and deeper, where the light from the sun couldn’t even reach, darkness slowly started to engulf them but when their eyes adjusted their ears twitched and tails swung with awe. 

It was beautiful, the creatures glowed in bright oranges, blues and pinks. The plants swishing and lighting up the path to the cave. ___ turned back to take in their expressions, her eyes crinkling ‘’is everyone ok?’’ she signed with one hand, wanting to make sure everyone was still on board with going down. Thankfully it was easier and faster with their ilus.

Lo’ak took notice of the glow around her, it almost created a halo of light. Part of his thought he must be dreaming, how is someone so majestic real?

They all nodded and swam deeper, soon reaching an archway of stone and the Sully’s soon felt their lungs constrict. Still not used to long periods of time under the water. Tsireya noticed and swam off with Rotxo, ___ keeping the kids calm and instructing Tuk to slow her heart. 

The two that went off came back with, massive fish things? They gave one each to the blue Na’vi and connected their queues to them. ‘’they will help you’’ ___ instructed and got off her ilu, her tail swishing as it pushed her to go into the cave, the rest followed and they soon resurfaced in an air pocket ‘’this is the cove, there are tunnels that stretch do different areas’’

‘’Can we explore them?’’ Neteyam asked, not wanting to intrude with anything. Kiri was more curious about the things on their backs, playing with the one on Tuk’s who giggled.

‘’yes of course, it isn’t hard to get back either, so you shouldn’t get lost’’ Tsireya answered, dragging herself up onto the ledge and ringing her hair out. The rest soon followed, Kiri asking about the creatures that helped them ‘’they are txampaysye and help give air to you through tsayhelu’’ the teal girl explained, happy to teach the girl about anything asked. 

Lo’ak climbed out the water and quickly held a hand out towards ___ who took it, she was pulled up and onto the ledge giving thanks for his help. ‘’so..uh do you wanna show me around or something?’’ ‘smooth Lo’ak. Smooth’ he mentally slapped himself. His cheeks warming and turning lilac.

‘’of course I can. We can catch up on missed time together. Come’’ ___ noticed his flush and didn’t say anything, her heart beating slightly fast. She took his hand and slowly dragged him to one of the entrances to a tunnel. Neteyam made eye contact with his brother, wiggling his brows.

‘I hope you drown, feel my stink eye’ Lo’ak glared at him, the older turning away and speaking to their companions while he himself was led through the twists and turns of the cave.

They then reached the end of the tunnel and his eyes widened at all the glow worms on the ceiling and pretty plants that surrounded him. There was a pool of water, that he assumed led out the cave from another entrance, that was filled his pincer fish and jellyfish. ___ watched how his yellow eyes glowed in the light and let go of his hand. 

‘’It is beautiful yes? This is my favourite place to come’’ ___ walked around and came to the edge of the pool, diving inside ‘’join me?’’. How could he say no when those blue eyes looked at him so prettily. He dived in.

When he resurfaced he shook his head from side to side, getting some of the water out. ___ squealed and slapped his arm, splashing his face when it went back into the pool. ‘’Hey!’’ Lo’ak laughed and splashed back. This turned into a full blown water fight, ___ having an advantage for obvious reasons. This continued for a while, laughs and screams of happiness echoing around them until the boy had enough and grabbed her arms. Breathing deeply and smiling, catching his breath. He noticed a flower beside them, he reached over and picked it. The plant was a dark pink with orange wrapping around the petals. He turned and saw ___ looking at him questioningly.

Lo’ak’s heart was beating fast as his hand put the flower behind her ear. The girl flushed and smiled wide and the boy returned it shyly ‘’it looks beautiful on you…’’

‘’Thank you Lo’ak’’ his tail was going crazy, even splashing the water behind them. ___ giggled and held his hands, looking deep into her eyes. ‘’I.. cannot wait to get to know you and your siblings better’’ she stated, squeezing his hands. 

‘’Me too, more emphasis on you though’’ He cheekily grinned, feeling confidence coming back to him suddenly. He liked her, more than anyone he knows and he knew he had to make her his. 

What they didn’t notice though, was the glowing fish that was in the water surrounding them, swimming in circles like they do with Kiri. The soft glow of the fauna around them pulsing. 

Eywa has spoken. 

‘’Yesss!!’’ Neteyam pumped a fist into the air and high foured Tsireya who decided to follow him, along with the others. This was only just the start. 

Ao’nung could only watch in disgust.

[streets-in-paradise]

From the Deepness of the Sea - Hector x Siren!Reader

Requested by @alysinwonderland-at-tea

" Excellent, so here's the idea, Hector x mermaid reader, she's captured in a fishing net and several sailors are poking at her and arguing about killing her, Hector saves her, cleans her wounds, bonus if she's like Serena from PotC and has legs out of water. Maybe some smut too, just Hector being so gentle with her. "

Warnings: Mixed lore for the mythical creatures to fit the specifications on the request. Since I don't remember mermaids existing in greek mythology, i'm calling them sirens to make it feel more accurate with the time period. I know those were actually bird women, but here they will look like mermaids. For the romance plot to work, i kept only the esense of the siren lore.

Summary: Greek legends land on trojan shore and the dangerous omen they bring forces the need for an exploration. Prince Hector gets on board with a crew of warriors and sailors in order to investigate, followed by his younger brother inspired by mythical curiosity.

When the tales turn out to be true, the battle for suvival ends with the reckless taking of a hostage. Refusing to engage in pointless vengeances, the trojan leader opts for a peacefull resolution taking the dangerous creature under his protection. Despite he believes to be discovering a human resembling side on the siren, his own humanity ends up fascinating her.

Note: The intro scene is inspired in POTC, as the request suggested, and in this painting . I know there was more plot specified in the request, but since this one got too long I will do the rest on a continuation.

Heroic expeditions weren't a typical point of encounter for the Princes of Troy, but each one found partícular reasons to participate together in one. Rumours among sailors and fishermen warned about the possibly for a very dangerous plague to start infesting trojan sea. Normally, that sort of investigation would be delegated to a tripulation of trustfull warriors on board in one of the king's ships. Still, Hector insisted on leading it because he wanted to show he was as willing to risk his life for his men as they would do for him. In contrast, his younger brother expressed an unusual enthusiasm on joining adventures due to the particular characteristics that one presented.

The men were speaking of sirens, matter that required confirmation before it could start becoming a serious threat claiming many lives. While his brother was approaching the topic from a serious perspective, Paris wanted to see the legends come to life.

" It's said they are beautifull beyond the wildest dreams of a mortal man. " He was repeating to him as he looked at the sea with a dreamy expression. " And some believe it's possible to reason with them, so I'll be seeking to become the first prince in history to win the affections of a siren. "

Hector stiffled a chuckle and looked at him with justified skepticism.

" You will be the first prince being devoured by a half fish lady. There are límits for your charm, brother, and this is one you shouldn't cross. I allowed you on board only to not dissapoint our father, but I won't encourage your recklessness. "

He grabbed him softly by the shoulder, seeking his attention to provide a wise advice.

" Paris, if the rumours are true … This creatures feed on the hope in your desire, call yourself luckly of surviving a close encounter and don't expect to brag for anything else. "

Nothing seemed to break his spirits, not even the most bassic common sense. However, Paris had a deeper reason to expose himself like that and he decided to share it only with his brother.

" I'll chaze the posibility. I'm not a great warrior, I will never be a mighty king, but i trust in my beauty and charm. The kiss of the siren is my only chance to do a feat poets would sing about in years to come. "

Hector smiled, softened by the relatively honorable motivation, yet incapable of not scolding him for it.

" Only fools face death for glory, we are here to protect our country. "

For hours they awaited, as if they were mere fishermen on their boat hoping for the bait to work, but nothing seemed to happen. Frustration started to expand among the ship crew and Paris started singing out of boredoom.

He sang of love, expressing his hopefull desire. In his voice there was the sweet seduction he would have for a lover in his bed. It was apparently a vain attempt of calling the mythical beauties, so when his song ended with no evident result most of his companions started laughing.

It didn't last long, Hector had to warn them of an outside presence smiling at them from afar. A beautifull woman had emerged from the deepness of the sea and she was looking at them with curiosity.

Fear took over the men, paired thightly with an irresistible fascination. Only Paris managed to confidently smirk back, then hesitantly approached to the edge of the ship's deck rigth in between the rowing benches and the eye.

" So the legends are true. " He spoke to himself, indirectly adressing her in his smoothest tone. " I've been told that your kind is capable of understandment. May you indulge me with a proper conversation, fair maid? "

She giggled lightly to his flamboyant speech, splashing sounds of her moving tail making her seem invested on his praising manners.

The rowers lost their positions observing her jumping towards him, easy task given the relatively flat dimmension of the ship conceived for speed.

Supporting herself on the wood of its edge, she kept charming the prince.

" Are you the one who sings? That was beautifull. "

Her human half, a splendid woman of naked torso, was fully exposed to all of them and many others were one with Paris's amazement.

" Not as much as you, my divine friend. " He sweetly replied. " I feel striken by Eros while simply looking at you. "

Visually feasting on her beauty, none of his companions dared to interrupt untill Hector called everybody out.

" WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU FOOLS? YOU ARE MEN OF TROY, BEHAVE AS SUCH!! "

Most of the men managed to react, shamed by his words, but Paris had to be dragged away.

" Let me have this, Hector! " He started complaining. " I'M NOT LIKE YOU, HER KISS COULD BE THE ONLY GLORY I WILL EVER REACH!! "

His brother responded holding him tighter.

" Paris, you will get yourself killed. "

" How is it ANY DIFFERENT from what you do in war? " The young man defended his point with unusual wisdown. " When you leave for battle, you could also get killed and I have never restrained you from that danger against your will."

His little brother had never spoke to him like that, so it was most likely for him that siren had poisoned his mind already.

" There is no honor in dying like this!!! "

His protest became more agressive.

" I HAVE TO TRY, LET ME GO!!!! "

The bewitching sea lady wasn't importunated by the pittyfull scene interrupting her.

" … Paris. Is that your name? Sounds as beautifull as you, the most handsome man I have ever seen. "

She began to sing, affecting everyone else's will of resistance. Hector himself became entranced and the strenght of his arms began to fade, allowing Paris to escape him.

The young prince rushed towards her. When the closeness became enough, she started caressing the sides of his face. Guided down by her hands, he was dangerously close to jump from the ship near the end of her song.

As if the posible inminent death of his brother would have awakened a primal instinct in him, Hector regained self control for an instant brief enough to save his life by pulling him in the opposite direction.

Two of the warriors on board followed, rushing into battle against her. Suddenly, a small yet dangerous squad showed themselves at the surface to protect the hurted sister.

Trojans fought braverly for the control of their ship, but salvation wasn't enough. The men wanted revenge and as the creatures started to retreat some of them threw fishing nets hoping to catch one alive.

They got you among the last lines attempting to leave. Sounds of mockery and sharp blades were waiting you with frenetic excitement, but their leader stopped the carnage.

" THAT'S ENOUGH! I will not tolerate cruelty, our ríght call for arms ended when the enemy retreated … Are you blind to the clear evidence exposed to us? Greek sailors must have learned to avoid their island, so the sirens are adventuring away for their own survival. If we damage her, her angry sisters will find a new home near our shores and Troy will not survive that. Trade will colapse and our brothers will be devoured one by one. "

Still shocked by the near death experience, Paris had witnessed the episode as he tried to recover and only then began to overcome his self preservative absortion.

" The risk was greater for me, yet I'm not seeking any revenge. "

The men restraining you abandoned their positions and at the very same instant you stopped struggling, it was reveiled to them that you started looking like a regular girl.

No fishtail, and in its place, a pair of beautifull legs of skin as smooth looking as the rest of your body.

In Hector's eyes, you appeared like a frightened naked girl surrounded of men seeking to harm her and whose only partially accomplished crime was trying to defend her sister.

He gave you a cloak to cover yourself. The concept of shame índuced by nudity was foreign to your kind, but you accepted to cover with it understanding it was a well intentioned gesture on his part.

You began to observe him with curiosity, but not of the predatory kind that your sister utilized against his brother a while before. It came from genuine amazement product of the first selfless act of kindness a human man had ever showed you. For any other, finding you in such weak state would have been a great temptation, an oportunity to prey on you. There was no glimpse of hidden lust in his actions, but pure will to help.

His eyes were dark, but his glance inspired an inviting warm that was tempting for you. When you clinged to him, you discovered that his body was able to provide an ever greater heat.

" Should I trust your embrace? " Hector asked you. " I'm not going to hurt you, so I hope you will return the courtesy. "

You looked at his face almost with the same awe an unlucky sailor would have shown for you.

" … You are different, … the song. It didn't take over you, not completely. No one ever … "

Hector understood and shared your confussion.

" The impulse of protecting my family must be stronger than we thought, I guess. My concience didn't last long, I only rushed to save my brother from your sister. He is a good lad, but your hunting methods enhace his weaknesses. "

You looked down, in evidence of your guilts.

" Foundation stories everywhere start with starving people moving away in search for food. " He recalled, referencing his theory. " … That doesn't mean I will let you roam my territory and freely slaughter my kind. "

The warning made you push the cloak a little tighter against your body, as if the coverage was a nervous call for self preservation.

"We have seen you command brave men, and we paid a great price for that discoverment. "

Hector cleared his throat and proceeded to speak as he would when doing a political bargain.

" I will look after you, but I must also make you aware you are free to leave whenever you consider it necesary. Yet, I need you to tell your sisters that our defensive response wasn't an act of war. "

He gazed deep into your eyes with honest seriousness, emphasizing his point.

" As long as you never again try to feed on a trojan, we will not chase you … Understood? "

You nodded in agreement and he showed you a polite smile. In that non verbal agreement he found encouragement to start proving you he was going to stick to his word.

The men that untill quite recently were up to harm you were then sent to improvise a confortable spot were Hector reclined you to start searching for wounds in need of tending. With caring touch he took care of you, focusing allways on your healing and not in perceiving your forms.

As his hands comforted your body, Hector also distracted you with his conversation. His cassual way to approach topics made you feel good with him, since it was clear he wasn't speaking to impress you. Normally, men would only speak to you as something they wanted for themselves and you would go along with it. When the trojan prince asked your name, you realized that you didn't remember any other before caring to know it.

He was treating you like if you were some normal girl, maybe a foreign princess visiting his country that he had to entertain.

Ríght as he was finishing to patch you up, he started rambling about the horses in his stables. Not as a royal bragging wealth, but as a humble man telling you of things he loved.

" Have you ever saw horses before? Forgive me, i forgot to ask. Since you appear capable of leaving water I assumed you may have mixed yourself in human populations and can understand what i'm saying. "

His sudden apology midway into it made you understand he actually cared for your perspective.

" I do, just never got too close to one. "

You flinched due to the burning ich after the last cut in your abdomen was cleaneased with wine to stop an infection.

Hector kept talking to you so you won't focus on the pain.

" Well, us trojans are the world's best horse breeders. People come from every corner to buy from us. Except for King Agamemnon of Mycenae, and i'm sure he is very upset because we are keeping him blocked for repeatedly attempting to conquer us. We are the last free kingdom stopping him from getting control of the sea. He wants our trade routes and our strategical position on land upsets greek ships. Troy is the gate to the heart of Asia and we keep it safe from them. "

He carefully caressed the wound with his fingertips, applying whatever calming drugs he could find in the emergency reserve on the ship.

Pure softness, respect and care that wouldn't stop amazing you.

" They are not like you. They take, is all they know. They don't protect, they don't care … They take, so we take from them. They have learn to avoid us, so we had to start searching for them."

In your criptic speech, you were trying to explain him that your usual prey were greek pirates seeking for gold and women, predators of the sea stumbling with your island on their way to other shores for looting.

Hector understood you were trying to flatter him as well, and attempted to avoid it.

" In all my life, I have never came across someone who has never rode a horse. "

He made you laugh.

" That should be the less strange fact about me."

You were probably ríght, but he had something else to say.

" I don't care about the rest, or at least I don't have to if you promise to never hurt my people ever again. "

Your left hand started caressing the back of his neck and your ríght one toyed with his chin, thumb tracing his bottom lip. His brown eyes followed the sudden, but soft movement.

He was shocked, but the intensity of your glance distracted him enough for you to crash your lips against his. Although receptive, he didn't allow himself to be responsive ríght away.

The crew was observing and someone pressed a hand over Paris' mouth before any commentary could interrupt the kiss.

As soon as you released him, Hector turned to face them.

" We have closed a deal, no harm will reach Troy. "

[marinawolf]

Lena doesn’t realize she has appendicitis. Kara has to convince and get her to the hospital.

Well, I made this one deeper than I had to. Cheesy and fluffy, be warned. Let us all just cry together. Hope you like it:

Kara's Universe (Supercorp)

by marinawolf

Kara flew through the night sky as she held tightly onto the box of donuts, the bag of fries, and the steaming cups of coffee. Lena had been working late again, and Kara couldn't stand the thought of her girlfriend pushing herself to the limit without even taking a break to eat. She knew that Lena wouldn't notice her own hunger until she was done with whatever pressing matter required her attention.

Landing on Lena's balcony, Kara pushed open the heavy glass door leading into Lena's office, a familiar sanctuary tucked away in the bustling heart of L-Corp. As she stepped inside, the soft click of her boots against the polished floor echoed softly in the room, but Lena was too engrossed in her work to notice. The scent of Lena's favorite vanilla-scented candles mingled with the faint aroma paper and ink.

With a gentle smile gracing her lips, Kara's gaze fell upon the figure at the center of the room. Lena, the epitome of elegance, stood at her desk, engrossed in a sea of papers that swallowed her attention. Kara's heart skipped a beat as she took in the breathtaking sight before her.

Lena's lustrous, chestnut locks were gathered in a high ponytail, accentuating the graceful curve of her neck. The contrast of her hair against the pristine white collar of her shirt was striking, emphasizing the sheer beauty that seemed to radiate from her every pore. Lost in her thoughts, Kara's eyes trailed down, taking in the silhouette of Lena's perfect body. The tailored lines of her charcoal gray pants clung to her in all the right places, accentuating the graceful curve of her hips. Kara marveled at how Lena managed to maintain an air of sophistication even in the most simple of outfits.

As Kara's gaze continued its exploration, she couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of strain in Lena's demeanor. The subtle tightness in her shoulders spoke volumes and the slight clenching of Lena's fingers as they hovered over the documents betrayed the hidden stress that she carried within. Kara's superhuman senses heightened her awareness of Lena's body language, attuned to even the faintest whispers of discomfort.

Kara's concern deepened as she witnessed Lena's hand drift up to her neck, fingertips gently massaging the tense muscles. The action was a silent admission of the strain Lena bore, the countless hours she poured into her work. Kara couldn't bear to see Lena in pain, even if it was merely a hint of discomfort. Concern welled up inside Kara, prompting her to take a few cautious steps forward. She carefully placed the food on a small table next to Lena's desk and without a second thought, she closed the distance between them, her footsteps soft and barely audible as she slowly approached her from behind, wrapping her arms around Lena's waist. Kara's lips found Lena's neck, leaving a tender kiss.

"Hey, darling," Lena said, her voice filled with surprise and affection, instantly recognising Kara's touch. "I didn't hear you come in. I've missed you today."

Kara's heart flipped at the endearing endearment. "I missed you, too" she whispered, "And I knew you wouldn't have had anything to eat, so I brought you something."

Lena turned in Kara's embrace, her eyes shining with gratitude. She leaned in and kissed Kara, a silent thank you that spoke volumes. "I love you," she murmured against Kara's lips.

--

Taking a seat on the couch together, Kara positioned herself cross-legged, facing Lena, with their shared food between them. Kara couldn't help but steal glances at Lena. The way her shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing her collarbones and the delicate curve of her chest was captivating. Lena picked up a fry from the bag, popping it into her mouth while holding a donut in her hand.

"I didn't realize until now that I was starving and craving something salty." she admitted with a smile, savoring the flavors. "It's like you have a sixth sense for my cravings."

"In more ways than one," Kara responded with a smirk, unable to help herself.

Lena giggled, taking a bite of her donut.

"How do these weird food combinations you come up with always manage to taste amazing?"

Kara chuckled, reaching for a donut of her own. "I call it my ultra secret superpower. Magic, really."

Lena took a sip of her coffee, her gaze never leaving Kara's. "Well, you definitely have me under your spell, Kara Danvers. I'll happily be your taste-tester for life."

Kara's heart fluttered at Lena's words.

Lena leaned backed against the coach, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You know, when I woke up this morning, I went to water the new plant I bought you," she said, teasingly, "And I noticed that it was dead."

Kara's expression turned sheepish as she scratched the back of her neck. "Oh… about that. I forgot to water it."

Lena burst into laughter, shaking her head affectionately. "Kara Danvers, the Supergirl who can save the world but can't keep a plant alive. And you had wanted one so badly, too."

Kara blushed, "Hey, I have my strengths. Plant care just isn't one of them. But don't worry, I won't let any more green lives suffer under my watch. I promise."

Lena's laughter softened into a warm smiled and she reached out and brushed a stray strand of Kara's hair behind her ear.

"Well, darling, it's a good thing you excel at saving lives instead of plants. But fear not, I hereby vow to become the guardian of all things green in our relationship. I'll take over the plant duties from now on."

Kara laughed, placing a hand to her chest. "Lena Luthor, my hero."

Their conversation shifted to the upcoming game night on Saturday, and Kara playfully pointed a fry at Lena. "You know, we need to bring our A-game this time. Alex and Kelly are getting way too good at those board games. It's like they're strategizing against us!"

Lena chuckled, a competitive gleam in her eyes. "Well, if it's a challenge they want, it's a challenge they'll get. Consider me game night ready."

"Well, you cost us the last game." Kara teased, "Your drawing skills are lacking."

Lena looked affronted, "My drawing skills are incredible," she protested, laughing. "You just don't know how to interpret real art."

As they bantered back and forth, Kara couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of discomfort Lena displayed. Her hand occasionally drifted to her right side, a fleeting wince crossing her features.

"Lena," Kara began tentatively, concern lacing her voice. "Are you feeling okay? You seem a little off."

Lena waved off her concern, a gentle smile on her lips. "Oh, it's nothing, darling. Just a little tiredness and overworking catching up with me. I'll be fine."

But Kara's super senses told her a different story. She could hear Lena's heart racing, see the slight flush on her cheeks and the glistening sheen of sweat on her brow. Panic surged through Kara's veins.

Lena's phone rang.

"You're not fine," Kara insisted, trying to ignore the persistent ringtone, determination shining in her eyes. "You need to get checked out, Lena. Please. You can't keep pushing yourself like this."

"I'm okay, sweetheart, I promise." Lena said, reaching out to touch Kara's face, "And besides, going to the hospital might bring unwanted attention and publicity."

Lena stood up to go answer her ringing phone, but before she could reach her desk, her steps faltered. Kara saw Lena stumble, a wave of dizziness overtaking her, and her reflexes kicked in. She rushed to catch Lena, her worry escalating.

"I told you something was wrong," Kara said softly, her voice filled with a mix of fear and determination. "I'm taking you to the DEO medical wing. They can help and it'll be discreet."

Lena nodded weakly, her body growing semi-unconscious in Kara's arms. Kara pressed a gentle kiss to Lena's forehead, her heart pounding with worry, before she took off in a panic, flying with Lena securely in her arms.

Arriving at the DEO medical wing, Kara gently placed Lena on a bed, her blue-green eyes flickering open briefly before drifting shut again. Doctors rushed in, assessing the situation, and Kara's fears were confirmed—it was appendicitis. Lena had been brought in just in time.

--

Clutching a small teddy bear dressed in a miniature lab coat, Kara sat by Lena's side, her hands tightly holding onto the plush toy.

Around Lena's hospital room, on every available surface, were flowers. During Lena's surgery, Kara had to wait anxiously outside the operating room, feeling helpless and restless. Unable to bear the tension, she had rushed out to get Lena's favorite flowers—breathtaking lilies—in an attempt to distract herself. However, her emotions got the better of her, and she ended up bringing an overwhelming number of them, filling Lena's hospital room with their ethereal beauty.

Lena's eyes slowly fluttered open, and Kara's heart skipped a beat at the sight. Her beautiful blue-green eyes, still glazed with the remnants of anesthesia, began to focus on Kara's worried face. It was a moment of pure relief, knowing that Lena was waking up and would be okay. Their gazes met, and a rush of emotions flooded Kara's senses.

"Hey," Lena whispered softly, a small smile playing on her lips.

Kara couldn't contain her relief any longer. With tears welling up in her eyes, she leaned in, placing a tender kiss on Lena's lips, expressing her love and relief. She then handed Lena the teddy bear.

Lena looked at the teddy bear and chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "It's me," she whispered contentedly, her voice hoarse. Her gaze then shifted around the room, taking in the abundance of lilies. "What's all this?" she asked, her eyes widening in awe.

Kara's expression softened as she explained, "While you were in surgery, I needed something to distract myself. I ended up going a little overboard."

Lena's eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you."

Kara smiled at Lena, but her concern that had abated upon Lena's waking quickly returned.

"Lena, I need to talk to you about something. The doctors said the pain you felt must have been excruciating, and they were surprised you let it go on for so long."

Lena's brows furrowed slightly, her eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and guilt. "I know I've been pushing too hard, but I can't let things slip, Kara. I can't be like my family."

Kara gently caressed Lena's hand, her heart aching for Lena. She couldn't believe that Lena could think, even for a second, that she was anything like her family

"Lena, you don't have to push yourself so hard anymore. You've already proven yourself time and time again, rising above the shadows of your family's dark legacy. When people hear the name 'Luthor' now, they think of you—your greatness, your kindness, your intelligence, and your tireless efforts to create a better world."

Kara paused, her voice filled with conviction. "You've redefined what it means to be a Luthor. You've built a legacy of your own, one that shines with compassion and empathy. You've shown the world that a name doesn't define who you are or what you can achieve." Kara's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Baby, I don't want you to exhaust yourself in the pursuit of proving something to anyone else. You've already proven it to me, to yourself, and to everyone who truly knows you. You are incredible."

Lena didn't respond, but Kara could see the anguish in her eyes, the unshed tears as she registered Kara's words.

She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Lena's forehead and felt Lena's fingers tighten around her own. "Lena, please, I'm begging you to take care of yourself. Not just for your sake, but for mine too. I love you more than life itself. You are the center of my universe, Lena. I can't bear to imagine a world without you in it."

Kara's voice quivered as she confessed her deepest fears. "Every time you push yourself too hard, neglect your own well-being, or sacrifice your own happiness, it's like a knife through my heart. I can't stand the thought of losing you. So please, Lena, promise me that you'll take care of yourself."

Tears welled up in Lena's eyes as she listened to Kara's words, her voice trembling with remorse. "I'm sorry, Kara."

Again, Kara's heart clenched. She reached out and wiped away Lena's tears, her voice brimming with reassurance. "God, don't apologize, Lena. Just know that I will do everything in my power for you. I'll hold you when you're tired, I'll listen when you need to talk, and I'll wipe away your tears when life gets overwhelming. I will be there, but just promise me that you'll be careful from now on, that you won't push yourself so hard."

Lena's gaze softened, understanding the depth of Kara's concern.

"I promise," she whispered.

Relieved and feeling an incredible amount of love for her girlfriend, Kara leaned in and kissed Lena gently, their lips speaking volumes of their unwavering devotion.

As they broke apart, Lena placed a hand on Kara's face.

"I must have done something great to deserve you, Kara Danvers," she whispered, before pulling Kara back to her lips.

As they kissed, Kara couldn't help but think about how true her own words about Lena being the center of her universe were. Lena occupied the center of Kara's universe. She was the gravitational force that pulled Kara closer, the constellation guiding her through the vastness of existence. Lena was the ethereal melody that resonated within Kara's soul, the one irreplaceable presence that held the key to her happiness. Without Lena, Kara would be a drifting planet, untethered and purposeless, lost in the vast expanse of emptiness, with nothing holding her together.

Kara was eternally grateful to whatever sentient being that controlled the universe for leading her unerringly to Lena and vowed to protect Lena with her life.

[mask131]

The myth of Dionysos (8)

And to conclude this long overview of the mythical figure of Dionysos, here is the remaining parts of Félix Guirand's analysis/recap of the deity.

III/ Birth and childhood of Dionysos

After the earth was fertilized by the benevolent water of the sky, it needs to suffer the dry burning of the sun. Only then will theplants reach maturity, only then fruits grow – and only then will the grapes appear on the vine. This seems to be the deeper meaning of the myth of Semele, usually said to be the mother of Dionysos. Daughter of Cadmos, the king of Thebes, Semele attracted the attention of Zeus, who seduced her and made love to her – the god frequently visited her within her father’s palace. One day however, Semele followed a pernicious advice given by Hera disguised as the princess’ nurse: she begged Zeus to appear before her in his full Olympian glory. However she could not stand the intense and burning light of the divine form of her lover, and the fires that surrounded Zeus’ true shape burned her alive. The child within her belly only survived thanks to a miraculous thick ivy that had wrapped itself around the palace’s columns, and that shielded with its green leaves the unborn baby from the divine flames. Zeus took the baby, that was not yet fully formed, and placed it in his own thigh so he could finish growing. When the birth was due, Zeus (with the help of Eileithyia) removed the young Dionysos from his thigh – and this is why ever since he was called “Dithyrambos”. Zeus then gave his son to Ino, Semele’s sister, who lived in Orchomenos with her husband Athamas.

This was the most common tradition, but other tales recall how, when Cadmos learned of his daughter’s pregnancy, he locked her in a wooden chest that was thrown into the sea. The floating chest want to the seashore of Brasies, in the Peloponnese: when it was opened, Semele was dead, but the child was alive, and it was taken by Ino. Still filled with jealousy, Hera continued her vengeance by turning Ino and Athamas mad. Zeus saved his son once again by turning him into a young goat, and he gave the order to Hermes to carry Dionysos to the nymphs of Nysa. Where was Nysa? Was it a mountain of Thrace? It is impossible to pinpoint the exact location of Nysa, because every region of Greece where the cult of Dionysos settled claimed to have their own Nysa.

Dionysos spent his childhood on the legendary mountain of Nysa, taken care of by nymphs whose efforts were rewarded later on, as they became the constellations known as the Hyades. The Muses were also said to have helped with Dionysos’ education – and so did the Satyrs, the Silenes (Seleinoi) and the Maenads. Finally, in Euboea, it was said that Hermes had entrusted Dionysos to Macris, a daughter of Aristaeus that fed the young child with honey. Crowned with laurel and ivy, the oung god spent his time exploring the mountains and the forests surrounded by nymphs that laughed and screamed happily. The old Silenus also taught Dionysos how to be virtuous person, and gave him a great love for the concept of glory. When he became an adult, Dionysos discovered the fruit of the vine, and how from these grapes he could make wine. He visibly first used it without any kind of moderation, as the legend says he was struck with madness by Hera – but it was only a temporary derangement. In order to be cursed from his insanity, Dionysos went to the oracle of Dodona – on his way there he had to cross a swamp on the back of a donkey. To reward this animal, he gave him the power to speak. Once his mind was healed, Dionysos started travelling throughout the world to teach mortals the art of winemaking. Numerous fabulous adventures happened to him as he went from country to country.

V/ The travels of Dionysos

Coming down from the mountains of Thrace, he crossed Boeotia and entered the Attic land. There he was welcomed by king Icarios, to whom he offered his grapevine. Icarios carelessly offered wine to his shepherds who, upon feeling the effects of drunkenness, believed they had been poisoned, and killed Icarios in revenge. Her daughter, Erigone, searched for her father and thanks to her dog Maira discovered his grave. Despaired, she hanged herself on a nearby tree. Dionysos, to punish this tragedy, cursed all the women of the Attic region with a furious madness – meanwhile Icarios was brought to heaven with his daughter and the faithful she-dog, where they became constellations. Received in Aetolia by the king of Calydon, Oeneus, Dionysos had sex with his host’s wife, Althaea. To reward Oeneus for pretending this never happened, the dog offered him the very first grapevine, and from the one-night union of Dionysos and Althaea was born Deianira. In Laconia, Dionysos was received by king Dion, who had three daughters. Dionysos was in love with the youngest, Carya, but the oldest two tried to prevent their romance by warning their father about it. Dionysos punished them first by making them mad, then by turning them into rocks. As for Carya, she was turned into a walnut-tree.

After continental Greece, Dionysos visited the islands. It was during these travels that, as he walked by the seashore, he was kidnapped by Tyrrhenian pirates who imprisoned him on their ship. Mistaking him for the son of a king, they hoped to get a ransom from him. But in vain they tried to tie him up with ropes: they kept falling to the ground, and the knots unmade themselves. One man, feeling Dionysos’ divinity, became scared and encouraged his companions to set their prisoner free, only for his crewmates to refuse. Then a series of miracles happened: a strong wine started pouring from the ship, vine grew onto the sail, and a dark ivy surrounded the mast. The god himself became a terrifying lion, and the terrified sailors threw themselves into the sea, where they were turned into dolphins. Only the man that had tried to set him free was spared by Dionysos. Finding himself on the island of Naxos, Dionysos saw a young woman asleep. It was Ariadne, the daughter of king Minos, that Theseus had brought back with him from Crete but had just abandoned. When she woke up, noticing Theseus’ absence, Ariadne fell into a violent despair – but Dionysos comforted her, and soon after, he married her officially. All the gods were guests to the wedding, and they covered the couple with gifts: Ariadne gave Dionysos three sons, Oenopion, Evanthes and Staphylos. The Homeric tradition, however, gave a different record of this tale: in the Homeric texts, Ariadne was killed by Artemis as a young woman, and Dionysos only married her after her death. A grave of Ariadne could be found in Naxos, where the Homeric tale was commemorated through dual celebrations: one was a sad celebration about crying for Ariadne’s death, another was joyful and centered around her wedding to Dionysos.

The travels and adventures of Dionysos did not limit themselves to the Greek world. Followed by satyrs and maenads, he went to Phrygia where he saw Cybele, and the goddess initiated him to her mysteris. He then went to Cappadocia, where he banished the Amazons from Ephesus, and to Syria, where he fought against Damascos – for having destroyed the grapevines planted by the god, Damascos was flayed alive. Dionysos then went to Liba, where he met Aphrodite and Adonis (even making love to Adonis’ daughter Beroe). After ruling for some times over the Caucasian Iberia, Dionysos followed his journey to the East, crossed the Tiger river on an actual tiger sent by Zeus, he united the two shores of the Euphrates by a rope made of vine and ivy branches, and he went as far as India where he brought civilization. He was also seen in Egypt as a guest of king Proteus ; and in Libya, as the one who helped Ammon regain his throne, usurped by Kronos and the Titans.

After those glorious expeditions Dionysos returned to Greece – but he wasn’t the rough god that came from the mountains of Boeotia. No, after having lived in Asia, Dionysos became an effeminate figure: he was now a graceful teenager wearing a long dress in a Lydian style. His cult had now orgiastic rites borrowed from Phrygia. And so, when he returned to Greece he was met with mistrust and doubt, sometimes with outright hostility. Most noticeably, when he returned to Thrace, its king, Lycurgus, declared himself the enemy of Dionysos. Forced to flee, the god found shelter with Thetis in the depths of the sea. However Lycurgus had imprisoned the Bacchants, the followers of the god. Dionysos cursed the land with sterility in retaliation, and removed Lycurgus’ sanity: the king ended up killing his own son by believing he was cutting a grapevine. Peace only returned to Thrace when Lycurgus, by order of an oracle, was trampled to death by horses on the Pangion mountain. Dionysos was not received better by Pentheus, the king of Thebes, who imprisoned the god in his jail. Dionysos easily set himself free, and he cursed with insanity Pentheus’ mother, Agave, as well as all the other women of Thebes. Transformed in Maenads, they went to the Citheron mountain to perform Dionysian orgies. Pentheus, who had followed them, was ripped to pieces by his own mother. This terrible tragedy became the subject of Euripides’ play “The Bacchants”. A similar adventure happened to the inhabitants of Argos, who had also refused to recognize Dionysos’ divinity: their women, possessed by an insane fury, ripped to shreds and then devoured their own children. Among the many punishments inflicted by the gods, the most famous is the one of the daughters of Minyas, king of Orchomenos. They were three sisters: Alcithoe, Leucippe and Arsppe. Since they refused to participate in Dionysos’ celebrations, the god appeared before them under the shape of a maiden, and he tried to convince them in a sweet and soft way. Failing, the god turned successively into a bull, a lion and a panther. Terrified, the Minyads were literaly scared out of their wits, becoming insane with fear – one of them, Leucippe, even killed with her bare hands her own son. The three sisters ended up transformed in nocturnals animals.

Now, no one would dare challenge or refute Dionysos’ divinity, and no one would dare prevent his worship from spreading. The god completed his glorious career by going into the Underworld to rescue his mother Semele. He then renamed her Thyone, and brought her with him to Olympus among the Immortals. The place through which Dionysos returned from the Underworld was supposedly located in Troezen, within the temple of Artemis Soteira. According to the tradition of Agos, Dionysos has rather learned the road to the Underworld thanks to the help of a man of Argos called Polymnos, and returned to the world of the living through the Alcyon sea. Within Olympus, Dionysos also took part in the war of the gods against the giants: the braying of the donkey he was riding terrified the Giants, and the god killed with his thyrsus a Giant either named Eurytos or Rhatos.

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Kepler Horror (Indruck)

The winner of the "weird mer" poll was: A mer who isn’t so much half-human, half-fish as all eldritch. This fill is NSFW and contains oviposition.

Content Notes: given the prompt, there is mild reference to body horror. There is also a brief reference to nonconsensual artificial insemination (for lack of a better word).

Men in fancy carriages are a rare sight in this part of the state, so all the neighbors are sticking their heads out the window to see what on earth could have brought one to the Newton’s front door. 

Duck’s father ushers the somber lawyer inside and his mother offers him something to drink, but he seems as uneasy with his visit as they do.

When they’re settled around the table, the man produces a paper, “This is the last will and testament of Alistair Cold.”

The four Newton’s trade a puzzled look. The Duck’s father snaps his fingers, “ah, yes, the fella my uncle Herbert worked for.”

“The very same. Mr. Cold passed away in the summer” he indicates where the paper is dated June 8th, 1872, “And was without any living family. This will stipulates his house, land, and all possessions and money go to his loyal servant, Charles. Except, Charles died the same night Mr. Cold did. Since Mr. Cold was insistent the state not come into possession, his will also lays out which servant to consider next. The two prior to your uncle flatly refused the offer and turned over their rights to it. And your uncle, as you no doubt know, passed in October. His own will named you his heir, which entailed only the bequeathment of a horse.”

“She’s a good horse.” His father replies. 

“The point is, Mr. Newton, the estate on the coast is all yours.”

His father turns his attention to Duck, “seems to me it’s high time my son had a place to call his own. The money won’t hurt none neither.”

“Mr. Newton, you don’t have a-”

“I know what I said.”

Duck smiles to himself, and lets himself daydream about his future home.

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

Indrid swims up, up, up the dark shaft, out of habit and foolish hope more than anything else. The hatch at the top is sealed like it always is. Like the futures say it always will be. 

He lets out a burbly sigh and sinks down, down, down once again. 

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

Duck doesn’t believe in ghosts. But if there was ever a house to be haunted, it’s the one staring down at him now. 

The view of the sea is nice. It’s the creaking frame, rattling windows, and yards of spiderwebs he could do without. All the rooms are full of dusty ghosts, chairs and tables and fancy shit he has no name for peeking out from their shrouds. 

He bought new clothes in Richmond (his sister, Jane, came with him that far so he could buy her some too), mostly practical outfits for working on the house or in the–badly overgrown–garden. A few are for dinner parties or going out into the nearby town of Kepler, and maybe even for impressing a sweetheart. But before he can tuck them safely away in the wardrobes, he has to pull heaps of grim, unused clothing from the darkness. 

As he explores the house, he takes mental note of just how many things he can get rid of. No one needs this much china or this many silver nick-knacks. Not even their previous owner, going from how new most of them look. 

While in the library, he leans against the mantle of the unlit fireplace. When the stone beneath his elbow depresses, he momentarily panics that the whole damn place is about to come down around his ears. Instead, a panel opens in the floor of the eastern corner, revealing a sharply angled, stone staircase. 

He debates whether it’s safest to ignore the weird, creepy staircase or follow it to make sure there’s not something weirder and creepier lurking under his house. He decides he’d rather not be murdered in his sleep by, grabs the pistol his dad insisted he bring, and takes his lantern into the depths beneath the mansion. 

When he reaches the bottom, he gets a hunch as to what probably killed Alistair Cold. 

He’s in a laboratory straight from the penny dreadfuls Jane is always reading. Jars of sickly, green liquid line the shelves and there’s a rack of surgical tools that makes him shudder when he sees how sharp they were kept. There are also several large books bound in brown leather containing nothing but an alien language and pictures so upsetting he instantly slams them closed. 

“That’s enough of the creepy basement for today.” He says it aloud just to hear a familiar voice. 

As he turns to leave, he steps on a pedal at the base of a cabinet. Grinding metal fills the air and he braces for something to blow up or fall over. When nothing happens, he decides that the pedal must be disconnected from whatever it once controlled, and heads back to the daylight. 

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

Can it be?

Indrid tentatively presses first his tentacles and then his whole body against the hatch of the tunnel. It groans, then gives way, revealing the lab in a similar state to the last time he saw it. There’s no sign of the master of the house, and so Indrid keeps quiet; the previous instance when he tried to free himself and explore without permission, the human sunk a stake of hawthorn into his center. The damned thing was enchanted and twisted to conform to his shape no matter how many times he rearranged his body. 

Tonight it’s safest to sit on the rim of the tunnel, drinking in the sounds of the surface. Tomorrow he’ll brave the laboratory. And the night after, the stairs. 

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

Duck prides himself on being friendly and easy going. Which is why he’s trying not to take it too personally that no one in this tavern has looked at him since he mentioned where he was living. The shoulder he’s getting is colder than the freezing rain outside. 

As he’s wondering if he’ll have to eat his dinner standing, a young woman with black hair and a massive, black rabbit in her lap waves him over to her table. She introduces herself as Aubrey, and they chat about how he’s liking Kepler. When yet another diner gives Duck a wide berth, she rolls her eyes. 

“Ignore them. They’re all jumpy because you’re living in the Cold place. The guy who lived there before was a major dick. But that didn’t have anything to do with the house.”

“I feel like I’m gonna regret asking but: what actually happened to him?”

Aubrey slowly spins her spoon on the table, “He was doing experiments with magic; if there’s something beyond black magic, I’m pretty sure it was that. Nasty stuff, stuff that made people sick or disappear or…” she shudders “apparently he had a thing for kidnapping women who’d then give birth to kids they couldn’t remember wanting or conceiving. I only moved here two years ago, but I guess it’d been going on for a long, long time.”

“Jesus.”

“Right? I guess he eventually pissed off the wrong person or they figured out they outnumbered him, but a mob stormed the house, tied him to a tree, and burned him. And I get it but, like, it freaks me out that they’d just do that. Now I think everyone is treating your house like it’s this beacon of evil because weird stuff happens in Kepler all the time that they’re scared of.”

Duck’s mind wanders to the basement, “Weird stuff?”

“The fact that it rains all the time even though it doesn’t do the same one county up or down the coast, the freaky stuff people see while fishing, the ghostly shapes above the church every night, a higher than average number of witches, oh, and that guy, Stern,” she points to a tall, well dressed man who just walked in, “apparently he trained under a witch hunter? And then he got sent out here because there’s supposedly a giant, hairy monster in the woods that some people think is the devil but is probably a totally nice guy if I had to guess.”

The rabbit hops on the table and he pets its head, “And if a fella wanted to steer as clear of all that as possible?”

“Spend lots of time in your house? Like I said, as far as anyone knows, he was the only evil thing there. Or” Aubrey leans closer, “if you ever want to pal around with people who can help the weird feel less, um, threatening, come by Amnesty Lodge. It’s about a half-mile from your place, on the edge of the woods.”

Duck thanks her for the invitation and decides to avoid Amnesty Lodge as much as humanly possible. 

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

Indrid is now certain Alistair Cold is no longer alive. As he trawls the laboratory, there’s no sign of him there or in any of the futures. This opens up so many possibilities his whole being shivers in excitement. 

The only reason he does not rush upstairs is he’s hungry, and if there is anyone else in the house he does not wish to embarrass himself by eating their entire pantry. And so he slithers back depths in search of dinner and leaves his exploration for tomorrow. 

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

There’s someone in the house. 

From his bed, Duck can hear them moving on the lower level, the odd bump of furniture and strange chirp interrupting the steady sound of whoever it is moving closer. When it reaches the stairs, instead of steps there’s a horrible, repetitive squelching until the monster–because there’s no fucking way this is a person–is on the landing. 

He knows for a fact he locked all the doors to the outside and, as a result, his bedroom door isn’t. If he moves, it might know he’s here and zero in on him. But if he gets to the door in time, he can keep whatever is stalking the halls at bay until he figures out what the fuck to do. 

The bedroom door creaks the instant his feet hit the floor. It groans open, the surrounding darkness offering no clues as to what’s on the other side. 

Tentacles come first, patting the walls and floor. Then there’s a horrible skitter as crab-like feet cross the threshold. The mass at the center of the body tips this way and that, and no matter how hard or long he stares he can’t make any sense of it. Milky eyes on what could be a neck give way to gaping gills lined with teeth but then they don’t and he’s looking at some new aspect of the horror. 

When the monster turns, floor wet beneath it and attention fully on Duck, he does the least helpful thing possible. 

He faints. 

When he comes too, it’s with a nose of dark, sea-salty air. Something alien is resting on his face, and he braces himself to discover he’s already being digested. 

The cool tissue on his face pats his cheek, which startles him into opening his eyes. He’s sitting on the floor, his back to the bed. There’s still a monster in front of him; its face is human, with silver-white hair falling around the angles of its cheeks and its glowing, red eyes. But the skin on its arms is mottled black and red, the texture too close to that of an eel for comfort, its hands are webbed and end in blood-red claws, and a frill of the same color sits behind its neck. Stranger still is the black fish-tail draped on the floor and the fact a patch of its chest is translucent, revealing an incomprehensible, teeming mass. 

It’s a mermaid from hell. Compared to what was in the room before, it may as well be a kitten. 

“Ah, you are awake!” The monster sits back and claps its hands, “I caught you before you could hit your head but I am never sure how long humans remain asleep when they faint and was beginning to worry.”

“You can talk.”

“Indeed. Oh, oh dear, where are my manners” he holds out a hand, “I am Indrid. You are Duck, yes?”

“How did you know that? And, and where did that other thing go?”

The monster cocks his head, “I am it. I can change shape to a degree, and I can see the future, which is how I know your name and that you are about to say you need a drink. I will fetch it.” Indrid tries to stand, frowns, and then his tail splits in two.

Duck looks away, stomach churning, until footsteps fade across the floor. He’d though Aubrey was exaggerating about what went on here but no, no it’s pouring rain outside and pinching his arm tells him he isn’t dreaming. 

The monster rejoins him on the floor and offers a cup from the dresser. Not knowing what else to do, he takes it. 

“You are afraid of me.”

“I, uh, I ain’t not-not, fuck, uh, I” he sighs, “yeah, okay, you got me, I’m afraid. Because a fucking sea monster turned up in my house!”

Indrid flinches at the noise, “I did not know you were residing here. I only know the hatch was open once more and I was so very excited to visit the surface once more” A thin membrane blinks across his eye, “goodness, I forgot how overwhelming it is to take in so much of the world through my eyes.” He looks sadly at Duck, but scoots a good six feet back across the floor, “I am sorry. I do not blame you. All humans fear the creatures of the depths. Except for Alistair.”

Duck sets the glass on the floor, “Can we go back to the part where you came through a hatch?”

“It is in the laboratory. If you wish I will show you. And yes, I am aware that showing you means you would then know how to bar me from the house. But that is your right; I do not wish to bother you.”

Against all his common sense, Duck stands and follows Indrid down the stairs, through the secret passage, and into the lab. They come to a circular, metal hatch on the floor, inscribed with the same, strange letters Duck saw in Cold’s notes. Indrid opens it, then slides in and rests his arms on the edge. 

“Alistair made this to allow a creature from the depths to arrive at the surface in a matter of seconds. I was the one he was able to summon, and for a time he would let me marvel at the surface world while he asked me questions and wrote out formulas in his notebooks. Then one day, the hatch was locked and I could no longer visit. I did not miss him, but the surface world…I love it so, and I saw so little of it and when I found this unlocked I simply…I wanted…” he looks away and Duck discovers that same translucence on his chest races up his spine, “I am sorry. It was foolish of me to emerge. I will depart, and you need not see me again.”

Duck should let him go, seal the hatch, and then move to Australia. But Indrid’s honest, strange sorrow tugs at his heart, and he wonders what could make such a terrifying creature long for a life so different from what he knows. Wonders if Indrid, floating in the abyss, feels as out of place as Duck sometimes did on the street back home. 

“I’ll make you a deal. You can come visit, but we gotta get a bell or something for you to ring so I know you’re here and don’t have a heart attack when I open a door and you’re behind it. We clear?”

Indrid grins with several rows of teeth, climbs from the pool, and grabs a length of rope dangling from the ceiling. When he tugs it, a bell sounds in the house above them. 

Duck stares at the smiling monster, wondering what the fuck he’s agreed to, and says, “Yep, that’ll work.”

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

The bell first rings two days later. Duck is at the dining table, rain battering the windows. It’s been so stormy the last few days that going into town carried a real risk of getting washed away or sucked into the mud, so he’s used his time to read up on wet-weather gardening and work on a model ship. 

When the bell sounds, he wonders if Indrid will even come to see him, since his interest was in the house and not with Duck. But after only a few moments, footsteps announce the merman (Duck can’t think of what else to call him) by the fireplace. Indrid waves, awkward but earnest, and comes to join him, swaying in his steps like a new sailor at sea. 

“Hello again.”

“Howdy. Uh, do you need anythin’ from me?”

“No. I do enjoy company, but there is no need to entertain me.” 

Duck nods and goes back to his work. Indrid looks at the books, then stands and begins wandering the room, returning to the window every few minutes to stare out at the rainy road and the town in the distance. When Duck asks if he’d like some coffee, he says yes and then dumps half the sugar bowl into it when Duck brings him some. 

“What do you do?” The merman sips his coffee. 

“Fuck all at the moment. I went from helpin my folks with farm work to bein a fella with a mansion and a bunch of money. I’ll get bored of it eventually, but right now it’s nice to just kinda drift around.”

“Drifting can be rather relaxing.” Indrid pads over to the finished ship, claws clicking on china as he studies it, “will this then go in a bottle? I have seen those in books.”

“Nah, that’s a whole level of fuss I ain’t willin’ to go to.”

Indrid offers a hum of understanding, then touches a hand to the table. A deep blue ocean of mist spreads from his fingers, catching the underside of the boat. Then Duck can see the outlines of whales and squid beneath the waves, all matching the scale of his boat. The mist unfurls across the table, his boat sailing it until it lands safely in his hands. The ocean lingers, curling around him so he can watch the schools of fish and stray mermaids swimming within it. When it dissipates, he turns, awestruck and grinning, to Indrid. 

“What was all that for?”

The merman shrugs, happily, “I wanted to see if I could make you smile.”

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

Since it’s a drizzle rather than a downpour, Duck is taking the afternoon to fetch supplies from town. As he’s un-tethering his horse, Winnie, from in front of the general store, his gaze falls on a heartbreaking sight; a child, no more than ten, sits on the corner, knees to her chest and her hand out. Her ears are shaped like coral and he spots a frill much like the one on Indrid. Most people who see her cross the street. 

“It’s tragic, isn’t it?”

Duck turns to find Joseph Stern behind him. 

“Where the hell are her folks?”

“Dead, I believe. The flu took them last year and the orphanage in Ashington won’t take her.” He steps beside Duck, “she’s not the only child in Kepler to suffer this way either. There are some with gills who cannot survive for more than a few hours away from water. Some with webbed hands, or teeth that mean their tongues struggle to speak in a way that others understand. A few are lucky and have family who protect them as they should. But many have been cast from place to place since they could walk. I believe Mrs. Cobb at the Lodge does what she can for them."

“The kids Aubrey talked about.” Duck murmurs. 

Stern’s blue eyes are now fixed on him, “Exactly. No one quite knows what Alistair Cold did up in that house. The women he kidnapped could never recall what happened. A few even got up the courage to ask him for help when horrified families or husbands turned them and the children out. He threatened to drown them.”

“Jesus.”

“My feelings exactly. Kepler harbors strange things. Some say evil things. They think that it rots anything it touches” Stern glances in the direction of Duck’s house, “Regardless of what forces he called on, I think Alistair Cold was rotten well before he came here. There’s no reason to make others suffer because of that.”

“So you don’t think those, uh, forces are automatically bad?”

“Not at all. Things can be strange to us without that making them evil. In fact, I find such gaps in our understanding fascinating. You’ll let me know if you ever encounter anything unusual up there, won’t you?”

Duck chokes out a “yep” and then tugs Winnie away before Stern can ask any more questions. 

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

It’s bliss to lay on the stone of the balcony while rain plinks on his skin. Indrid knows the constant storms are driving Duck up the wall, but he rather likes the damp, grey air. No birds are calling right now, but he can hear the shrieks of the McElroy children playing in the front garden. Duck had watched them as a favor to his nearest neighbors; their carriage had run off the road near Duck’s home and the wife had to accompany her husband to the doctor for a broken leg. When the children returned home hale and happy, the family was more willing to take Duck up on the offer to send them to play on his land whenever they wished. 

Indrid stays inside on those days, as it would doubtless alarm the boys to see him, even in his current, somewhat human form. 

That reminds him; he should show Duck that he’s almost able to make his hands look like they belong to a man. 

Hours pass and the children depart before he finally rises and slips inside the warmth of the house. Duck is in the kitchen, frying fish in a pan while toast cooks on the rack. There’s a chocolate tart from the baker in town sitting on the counter and Indrid is very much looking forward to eating it. 

It will soothe him after the conversation they’re about to have. It’s one he’s known was coming since Duck returned from town a few weeks ago looking rather grim. 

As the human sets dinner on the table, he says, “‘Drid? What exactly did you and Mr. Cold do?”

“At first it was simply conversation. He had found a book containing the secrets and the language of the depths, and by summoning me hoped to achieve a greater understanding. I assumed our interests were alike in that we each wished to know more of a world that was otherwise inaccessible to our kind. For two years, I would guide him through spells and help him devise formulas to combine human science with my abilities. He was so pleased with our work together that he would say I was like the son he never had and he was glad to know me.” 

Indrid picks up a fish and eats it because it’s something to do as the memories swarm him, “then one night he called me up and there was a woman in the laboratory with him. I was so excited, I wanted to meet more humans than him and his manservant. He knew this. But when I emerged it was in the form in which you first saw me and she screamed so loudly I panicked and dove back into the water. She was there the next night, too, but offering her this form did not calm her in the slightest. Nor did Alistair's insistence that I touch her.” He curls in on himself at the memory, “I refused and we argued and he shoved me back into the water and locked the hatch. A few nights later he tried again, this time with someone who was asleep when I emerged. He tried to tell me it was alright, that I could do as I wished. I wished to do nothing at all. I may live at the bottom of the ocean, but I was not born yesterday.”

Duck looks visibly relieved at this confession. 

“After that night, it all changed. I was forbidden from leaving the pool, and Alistair would only summon me to scrape secretions from my tentacles or pull my teeth and I would let him because I hoped, foolishly, that we would see eye to eye once more and he would no longer be angry.” His claws scrape on the table, “I am glad he is dead.”

The human reaches over and takes his hand, “I’m so fuckin sorry, ‘Drid. You deserve better than that.”

His frill ripples as he looks at Duck, “Yes. Yes, I believe I do.”

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

He knows humans get ill. Indeed, one of Alistair's lies to him was that their research would help cure human ailments. But knowing they get sick and seeing his human laid up in bed are two painfully different things. 

Duck insists it’s just a mild flu, but Indrid insists on him resting as much as possible so it does not get worse. This does leave him to tend the house and make food for them both himself,  but so far he’s managing. 

Today he is making chicken soup, and has followed all directions except for how to dismember the chicken; the knife seemed unnecessary given his claws. It’s been simmering on the stove while he goes and makes sure Winnie’s stable and hay are still covered after last night's wind (and to feed her the sugar cube he always sneaks her). 

He has to slip back inside through the kitchen door, as the neighbor’s children are at the front one they’ve gone, he retrieves the basket they left on the steps. He can still hear them laughing and shouting down the road when he takes Duck’s tray up to him. 

“Sustenance!” 

Duck smiles groggily at him, “Thanks, ‘Drid. Was someone at the door?”

“Clint’s boys. They left us this along with a note saying they hope you feel well soon.” He holds up a jar of honey.

“That was nice. Kids’re nice.”

“Indeed.” Indrid sits in the wooden chair by the bed, “do you want children?”

“Yeah. And no? Don’t wanna have ‘em. People’d see me wrong. But a family could be nice.” Feverish, green eyes turn on him, “you?”

“From what you have told me I may already have some that I was not privy to the creation of.” He sneakily summons a cool tentacle to wipe sweat from Ducks’ brow, “beyond that…I do not know. My kind are few, and the last time I ran into a deep one who looked like me he tried to eat me.”

“Cause you're so sweet.”

“I suspect I taste like fish.” Indrid pours him a new glass of water before realizing the true meaning of what Duck said. He decides to leave it be, not wanting to read too much into what the human says while feverish, and adds, “now, eat up so you can be well and take me for a walk on the beach as you promised.”

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

Duck’s definitely over his flu, but he took today easy due to still feeling a bit wobbly on his feet. Indrid left him a note saying he’d be spending most of the day in the sea. Duck’s glad; the merman spends as much, if not more, time at the surface with Duck than he does in the depths, and Duck has a nagging fear that one day he’ll spend too long on land and get sick. 

He turns in early, reading under the covers while the wind howls. When the tell-tale ding echoes from below him, he calls out to let Indrid know where he is. 

“You have a nice day?” Duck asks as the merman enters the room. 

“Mmm” 

Duck looks up at the whimpered answer. The first surprise is that the translucent patches on Indrid’s chest have turned into shining, pulsing scales. The second is that Indrid doesn’t sit once he reaches the bed. Instead he pulls the covers aside and wiggles under, pressing his front to Duck’s left side. 

“‘Drid? You ok-”

“No. No I am not. Being away from you all day has been agony. Every fiber of me ached until this moment.” He nuzzles closer, clicking and trilling, “and I do not know why my form changed without my permission. Perhaps it was caring for you these last few days but I, I” his claws fist into Duck’s shirt, “I cannot think of anything but claiming you.”

Duck’s not sure which is stranger; that Indrid seems so distressed at the idea, or that Duck can’t imagine not opening his legs for him right now.

He rolls onto his side, draws a finger along the new scales and gets a trill in reply, “Darlin’, is that your way of sayin you wanna fuck me?”

Indrid’s frill fans out, “It does not need to be that! Just holding you is enough for, for now.”

The red and black on his skin is swirling like storm clouds, and Duck smooths his palm along a patch, “And what happens when it ain’t?”

Indrid chirp-burbles something in his native tongue. 

“Didn’t quite catch that.” He hazards a grope to Indrid’s thigh. 

“Then I hold you down and do things to you humans do not want!” Indrid covers his face with his hands, “Worse still is that I want them, I want you but I know such acts with me are repulsive.”

Duck takes both hands, easing them away from Indrid’s face and kissing the webbing between the fingers, “Not to me they ain’t. Not when it’s with you, the fella who’s fuckin captivatin’ to look at and makes me laugh and still gets so damn excited when he sees the rabbits playin’ in the grass.”

“You would truly let me mate with you?”

“Long as it don’t produce anything, then yeah.”

Indrid shakes his head and nudges Duck onto his back, “I have looked at every conceivable future and in none of them do we create offspring. Indeed, I suspect what Alistair hit upon might be the only way I could have children with a human. All of which is to say: please take off your clothes.”

Duck laughs at the formality but obeys. The instant he’s naked in the lamplight, more parts of Indrid’s body than make sense begin rippling and twitching.

“Such a handsome human. Let us see what I have in store for you.” He leans down, bracketing Duck with his arms, and kisses him soundly. With his eyes closed, it’s as if Duck is feeling se spray on his lips, and when he wraps his arms around the merman and toys with his frill, the kiss deepens. It’s only when he feels something hard pressing into each thigh that he breaks it to look down. 

Indrid now has a second set of arms, more shelled than scaled, and is using them to force his thighs farther apart. 

“Do you like them? I feel they will be necessary to keep my mate from running off. And to make certain he takes all I have to offer.”

Duck moans at the menace in his voice, “And what do you have to offer, darlin?”

Indrid dips his head in reply and Duck looks lower to see the skin and scales of his groin rippling. Then reality jolts for a moment and something singularly unusual is extending towards him. Indrid’s cock is thick and flexible, with a ribbed line running down the lower third of it. 

“Holy fuck.”

“Is it still alright?”

Were it attached to anyone else, he’d say no. But right now his body is sending all his blood south at the thought of Indrid being so far inside him. 

“Hell yeah it is.”

The scales on Indrid’s chest pulse, “Wonderful. Because I am out of patience.”

Duck yelps as Indrid lunges forward, kissing him and sinking his cock into him at the same time. The shaft barely fits, and every time Indrid snaps his his there’s a thud as it bottoms out. 

“Ohhhhhh you are delightful.” Indrid trills as he forces Duck’s hips wider, the sound turning muffled as the merman kisses a hungry line down his neck to his chest. For a moment Duck fears the attention to his chest will prove too much, but Indrid contents himself with a possessive bite to each side before gliding his mouth back up to suck bruises into his collarbone. 

“Fuck, ‘Drid, this is fuckin amazing, you feel so goddamn good uh, what, what’s that.” He squirms as something presses between his asscheeks. 

“It seems my form adapts to fill as many holes as are present.”

“I ain’t ever had somethin-AH, oh, ohfuck” he bucks his hips as the second dick works it’s way in. There’s a strange pressure and heat to it, but it’s narrow and soft enough that he gets a shudder of pleasure instead of pain.

“That’s it, dearest, there is no need to fuss. I know how to take care of you. My heart, my soul, my very form will do whatever is needed to win and keep you.” Indrid grins down at him, licking his lips, “you were made to be laid in.”

Duck whimpers at the implication and tries to spread his legs wider. 

“Does that excite you sweet one? That my kind need somewhere warm and willing in order to lay a clutch?”

“Didn’t, didn’t even occur to me that’d happen. I, will, it won’t hurt right?”

A loving nibble to his throat, “Not at all. In fact I foresee you very much enjoying it. Which is excellent timing.”

Duck gasps as something soft yet solid emerges from the tip of Indrid’s cock. A moment later it’s inside him, rubbing against him as Indrid fucks him with increased vigor. 

“Yes, yesyes, that’s a good mate, there’s plenty more where that came from and you will take them all.” Both cocks pulse once, but only the one in the front produces another egg, “nnnf, this, this is selling me on the idea of a large family with you. Lots of space, plenty of money, we have all we need to care for several broods.”

“Ohgod, ohfuck, Indrid” the fantasy heats his blood as another egg pushes in.

“I’d take care of everything, look after them and the house if you decided to work. Mmm” he gropes Duck’s ass as the cock there fucks him deeper, “I do love the idea of you going into town bearing the proof of our evenings together. Everyone would see I’d claimed you. I would be the envy of the town once they knew you spread your legs whenever I wanted to breed you.”

“Fuuuck” He closes his eyes, losing himself in the image of Indrid on his arm in town, preening whenever someone notices the bites on his throat. The cock between his legs ripples, and now he’s full enough that it can’t fit all the way in when Indrid thrusts. The ridges and bumps of it catch his own cock, dragging him towards orgasm.

“Oh” Indrid’s sigh bubbles out of him, “look at you. So handsome, such a lovely husband to take me until you’re stuffed full.”

He cums at that, tightening around Indrid and digging his heels into the blankets. The merman is on him before he’s finished moaning, rolling them on their sides and releasing his thighs in favor of grabbing his ass and hips and forcing him closer. 

“I am not done with you, sweet one, so hold on tightly until I am through.”

Duck cries out as two more eggs pulse into him, Indrid only fucking him rougher as they do. The mer is everywhere, fucking him deep and splitting him open and sinking his teeth into his neck until there’s a trilling, watery cry and he cums so hard inside Duck that the force and the volume of the cum pushes his cock free. 

The other cock retreats as they pant in each others arms, Indrid’s frill rising and falling in time with his breath.

Duck raises his face form where he’s hidden it in Indrid’s neck, “You mean it when you called me your husband?”

“I did. If you would have me.”

He kisses his jaw, “You know I will. And not just because you fucked me so well I saw god.”

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

Spring in Kepler is still rainy, but the cluster of children waiting on the steps of what is now called Beacon House are all safely tucked beneath umbrellas. For those whose families did not abandon them, they will only be staying at the school until the afternoon before returning home (Aubrey will be teaching some classes and also driving the cart back to town). For those with nowhere else to go, they will be moving into the house for the foreseeable future. 

The group–eight in total–scurries across the threshold when Aubrey ushers them in. Mr. Newton waits for them at the foot of the stairs, smiling and genial in his brown suit. 

“We all here? Good. Mornin’ y’all. We're gonna get you settled into your rooms real soon. Uh, if you’re stayin here that is. If you ain’t, Aubrey will take you into the library so you can keep warm and read while the others put their things away. But before that, I want you to meet your other teacher” 

He gestures to the man coming down the stairs. A red scarf covers his neck, and all but his face and hands are covered by his black suit. 

“Mr. Cold here is gonna teach you some things Aubrey and I can’t. And make you feel right at home too.”

Still on the steps, Mr. Cold looks down at the children and smiles, ruby- tinted glasses slipping just enough to reveal glowing, red eyes.

[evolutionsvoid]

Okay, I know I shouldn't be writing an entry on this, since it isn't really a species and more of a magic thing, but I can't help it. It is just too fascinating to pass up. And also because some people even think they are a natural animal (I don't know how, but then again very few people have ever actually seen one). For most, however, these things are horror stories of the sea, terrifying tales that are passed around by sailors about what lurks below. I hardly imagine there is a single piece of writing about them that is actually a legitimate account or study of them, instead existing in the scary realm of the unknown. To be fair, being called "Abyssal Sleepers" isn't exactly a name that brings good thoughts to mind. Nor is the fact that they are said to be found in the deepest, blackest pits of the ocean. They live down there so long and so rarely ever surface that they might as well be a myth to most. However, we know that they exist and we do in fact know their origin! They are no natural species, or even that much of a mystery if you bother to look into it! To learn more about the abyssal sleepers, we only have to look to the Helkkja for answers. That sounded like a pretty cool transition, but now I realize we still kind of don't have answers. The Helkkja are not the talkative type, and it isn't like you can just sail a boat out there and ask them. That is just a shipwreck waiting to happen! We do have a general idea, pieced about from tales and the rare interaction with a Helkkja across time, but we still can't be exactly sure. But what we do know is that abyssal sleepers are not fish or naturally made animals. In fact, they are human, or at least once were. They belonged to the Helkkja, living upon that arctic island far from all other civilizations. Their study of witchcraft and their dive into the depths of magic no doubt drove them to some bizarre methods. After all, there is only so much you can learn from throwing things into an icy pot. Once they fully explored the magical possibilities upon the land, it is only inevitable that they would turn their attention to other realms. The ocean is an unfathomable place, filled with endless mysteries but also bottomless possibilities. Who knows what caused this idea to spring up in their minds, or how they even created this process. All we know is that it did happen, and they succeeded in turning one of their kind into these aquatic anomalies. A ritual is no doubt required for this to happen, as well as a whole lot of magical materials. From some tales, they say that the ritual calls for the chosen witch to lay in an icy coffin, where the transformation will take place. Before she does that, though, her limbs are tied in enchanted bindings and bony spikes are driven through her flesh. Her arms are pinned to her body, her legs bound together. This is to create the form of the fish, but that is not enough. For this whole endeavor to work, her eyelids must be pierced shut, with ivory hooks and magic-imbued beads. The end of this process leaves them blind and bound, and then they are lowered into their coffin. Once placed inside, the container is filled with a special potion and unknown ingredients, drowning the witch in this bizarre brew. I am sure magical incantations and other things are involved, but obviously we don't know all the specifics. Essentially, this ritual will turn the chosen witch into this aquatic shark-like being. Once she has gained her new form, her coffin is taken to a hole in the icy and she is gently transferred into the icy sea. From then on, she will dive into the deepest depths of the ocean, where light fades into endless night. She will spend years, decades, in the abyss, swimming amongst the creatures that lurk where the sun doesn't shine. What they do down there, how could we ever know? But we do know hydromancers wind up there eventually, so the ocean depths must offer something to the primordial mind of humanity. As the stories go, the abyss apparently possesses some kind of power or energy, something that seeps into every living thing down below. What the abyssal sleeper does is pretty much marinate in these strange forces, absorbing the dark magic into their flesh and bones. By living down in the abyss, they become one with it, gaining whatever it has within. But such a force cannot be handled by mere mortals, thus the need to transform into something else. This fishy form is capable of withstanding this presence, and can soak it up without succumbing to some kind of curse (I don't know, this all pretty much guessing at this point). These years in the pitch black ocean is why their eyes are sealed shut, as it is said staring into the abyssal darkness would drive them mad. Others suggest that the beings that live down there would kill any human with their visage alone, so thus the sleeper must remain blind. Regardless of the hows or whys, these abyssal sleepers swim about the abyss for many years, until they are somehow called back to the surface world. What beckons them back to the light is unknown, or how the Helkkja even know when the sleepers are ready to return. However it happens, a sleeper will hear the call and finally return to the waters above. After their slow ascent, their sisters will greet them and transfer them back into a ice coffin filled with sea water. Once taken back home, the final step will take place. The Helkkja will take their blades and carve the fins and flesh from the sleeper. It sounds like quite the bloody affair, but some say that the sleeper survives this ordeal. As the stories go, they essentially carve their human sister out of this shark-form, somehow cleaving it off like some kind of second skin. I am sure the return to a human body is refreshing after such a long life down below, but it sounds like they don't fully come back. For a while, the reborn Helkkja must be kept in a dark dwelling for days, until they readjust to the world above. Even then, it is said that they have odd dreams and nightmares, as their sleeping self may still swim in the abyss. These visions are welcomed by the Helkkja, as that is how they glean any information of the sleeper's time down below. Though they lived down there for years as a shark, it is equated to a coma, where they don't remember a thing about it (probably where the "sleeper" part comes from). Only their dreams give them glimpses of their time in the abyss. I am sure the Helkkja learn plenty from these alien nightmares, at least I hope they do. I tried reading a supposed account of one dream and couldn't make heads or tails from it. I showed it to Eucella once and she claimed to enjoy it and understood a few bits, but I think she is just messing with me. Dreams are not the only things they gain from the sleeper, though, as they do have a bunch of flesh cleaved from their body. This meat is said to be steeped with abyssal essence, a truly potent energy. However, the Helkkja cannot handle this magic in such a pure raw form. Instead, it needs to be processed, distilled and apparently fermented. The whole process of handling sleeper flesh is unknown, but it sounds extremely tedious and time consuming. Essentially skinning it, cutting it up, trimming it into long strips and coating it in magical herbs and materials. They are then soaked in a potion bath then straight up buried in the earth. I kid you not, one of the consistent details about this process is that it needs to be placed in a hole and left to ferment for months. Once it is unearthed, they dry it, shave it into flakes and then mix it into a specially prepared ink. From there they create some kind of contraption that works like a quill that slow drips ink over the course of days. They roll out dried sharkskin to act like a scroll, and have this abyssal ink slowly drip onto it for weeks. If properly done and left undisturbed, this alien fluid will somehow form words, sigils and spells upon this parchment, slithering across the page as if alive. What is gained at the end is markings of the abyss itself, transferred into a form that humans can properly read and process. These perfected scrolls are said to be one of their greatest treasures, as it gives them insights to a world alien to man. Outside of these, the dried abyssal flesh is also used in some potions, spells and even food. A distilled, fermented form of abyssal energy, tasted in such small drops to prevent the mind and body from succumbing. It is claimed that the magic from this flesh is some of the most horrific and powerful found in the lands, and that many modern magical defenses cannot stop it. Thankfully, it is a very rare thing and the Helkkja seem to hoard it for themselves on their secluded island. So from what I have said, the abyssal sleepers sounds pretty strange, but not really that scary. Why would people be afraid of a shark person that swims so far down below that we never see them? The only people they interact with is other Helkkja, so what is the threat? Well, apparently things don't always go perfectly. Every once in a while, an abyssal sleeper will develop a flaw or sickness. Perhaps the ritual wasn't perfect, or something happened down below that their body couldn't handle it. Whatever the cause, it is said that sometimes an abyssal sleeper will rise to the surface but far from her fellow sisters. Like dying abyssal fish wandering into the light during their final days, a sickened abyssal sleeper may wind up in places she isn't meant to be. And when she gets closer to the surface, she becomes closer to the domain of man. Entering the light means ascending into the reach of hooks and nets, where sailors can look down a see a form they do not understand. By accident, a sleeper may be caught in the lines and hauled aboard, thought to be just another fish. But when they are revealed to the crew, panic immediately sets in. Abyssal sleepers are widely feared and said to be one of the foulest curses that can befall a ship. Like mentioned before, they spend their years down there absorbing the essence of the abyss itself, getting it into their flesh and bones. With that, a risen abyssal sleeper is said to be laden with curses and emanating horrid energy that corrodes everything around it. The only thing that keeps these dark forces at bay is supposedly the sea water itself. As long as its skin and gills/lungs are flush with sea water, the abyssal essence remains contained, but if it were to dry out, then it would be unleashed. This is why the Helkkja transport their sleeper sister in water filled coffins, so that the curses remain sealed within the flesh until ready. However, unwary fishermen may not know these rules, and won't realize their mistake until it is too late. To get an idea of the terror surrounding a lost abyssal sleeper, we can just look to one tale I read about before. A big fishing vessel hauled in its nets one day to find a sleeper trapped amongst their catch. With it tangled in the ropes, they couldn't easily free it and they knew that the water was escaping its body with each passing second. In a panic, they turned their knives on both the net and the sleeper, stabbing her mercilessly in hopes that her death would prevent the curse from escaping. Once she was freed enough from the shredded net, they tossed her corpse into the sea and sailed away as fast as they could. However, it seems that they did not escape. The tale claims a cabin boy fled from the deck and hid down below while the rest of the crew butchered the sleeper. Looking out a porthole, he saw the dying fish being tossed back into the sea. As her fading body sank below the waves, her head hung above the water just long enough to clear the fluid from her gills/lungs and let out a single dying breath. The very air from this last gasp was a potent hex and it consumed the ship and its bloodthirsty crew. Days later, the vessel was found adrift, and another crew climbed aboard to see what was up. What they found were pale limbless things, flopping pathetically upon the deck. The melted, soggy clothes that clung to their bodies suggest that these horrible writhing blobs were once the fishermen that ran this ship. Further investigation found the cabin boy still hiding down below, but what had transpired on this ship had changed him. His hair was white as snow and his body aged as if decades passed. He rambled like a mad man, and I suppose his ravings are what conveyed the story of what happened. It is said that the boarding crew then torched the whole ship, fish mutants and all, as they believed the whole boat was lost to this horrible hex. The raving cabin boy was brought back to shore, where he would flee as far inland as he could, never to see the ocean again. The story caps off saying that the mad lad would eventually die of dehydration, refusing to touch a drop of water while still rambling about that horrible encounter. I don't think I did the story any justice with this quick recap, but I feel it paints a pretty good picture. Abyssal sleepers are steeped in the abyss, and any encounter with them is a chance for that darkness to seep into your own flesh.       Certainly spooky stuff, I will say, but mainly because there is actual magic occurring here. If it was a regular animal, I would scoff at such dramatic tale, but this is something very different. Honestly, it is stories like these that make me wonder why humans are so scared of us sometimes. You meet people that are suspicious of dryads, terrified of demons and disgusted by slimes, yet their own kind is capable of such a metamorphosis. Do they not see what their mages can turn into? Do they not realize the horrors that can come from their own flesh? Hmmmmm, well actually now that I say it, they probably are very aware of it but don't like talking about it. Much better to claim that the monsters are all around you rather than acknowledge that they can live within your very skin.   Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian

Editor's Note: Yeah, Chlora, this isn't going in. Half this entry is you saying "we don't know" or "it's a mystery!" Pretty useless for what we are trying to do with this book! Unless you can land an interview with a Helkkja, we are leaving most of this arctic witch stuff out. Also, I didn't say I "understood" that dream writing I said I "felt it," there is a difference. I couldn't tell you what it meant or what they actually saw, but I think the emotion was conveyed pretty well. Trying reading some more poetry, Chlora!  - Eucella- -------------------------------------------------------

“Abyssal Sleeper”

It's Mermay, thus we need Mermaids! Had this one back when I was doing the posts about the Helkkja, but decided to hold it back a bit just for this occasion! What a lovely creature to introduce in this lovely month! I say that but I honestly think they're kind of cute.

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 18: i tend to deflect when i'm feeling threatened

Tortured for Information + "Hit them harder."

3554 Words; Pearl & Seaglass

TW for kidnapping, torture, blood, injury

AO3 ver

Lizzie came to slowly.

Lizzie came to to the sound of wood creaking, a vague sense of nausea filling her throat before she registered anything else. Her head ached, some unseen force squeezing it like a vice. She tasted bile in the back of her mouth.

The last thing she remembered was the dance in the plaza, Gisu and Dion staring at each other with so much sap that Lizzie feared they might get stuck on it. Which, yeah, Lizzie was happy that her friend had someone who’d look at her like she hung the moon and stars, but it didn’t explain how Lizzie got here.

Here being… well, Lizzie couldn’t be certain, but it felt like a ship. The subtle rock of the room, the smell of the sea seeping in from somewhere behind her, the soft sound of waves against the hull if she strained her ears past the sound of footsteps above her—

Yeah, Lizzie was on a ship. Hopefully it wasn’t out over open water, but Lizzie doubted she’d be that lucky. She still didn’t know how she’d gone from lingering at the edge of a crowd on dry land to being tied to a chair on a seafaring vessel—which was probably what worried her most, that lack of knowledge. Not knowing the who or why put her at a severe disadvantage. Couple that with the vulnerability of being tied to a chair and missing most of her charms—she could no longer feel the protective enchantments she’d worked so hard to gather—and Lizzie was more worried than she’d like to admit.

The ship itself was well-built, she could tell that much. The room she was in had a heavy wooden door—this ship likely had multiple rooms, which meant it was big. And the big boats belonged to the powerful people.

It likely wasn’t an Explorer Corps ship, either—the Zanottos’ company didn’t randomly kidnap people. And the room was void of any of their usual iconography.

That only left a few possibilities. Either Lizzie had been drafted for the Navy in the weirdest way possible, or it was one of the few people rich enough to own a large ship like this.

Lizzie was still testing her bonds—her hands were bound behind her, but she could move her fingers, so if she could just get enough leverage—when footsteps outside the door caught her attention. She heard the lock slowly turn and click, and then the door swung open slowly.

Three different people walked in—

All of Lizzie’s thoughts came to a halt as she recognized the sharply dressed man in the middle of the group. Oh, she had never met him personally, but his face was everywhere—as was his caviar and roe business, which had been trying to buy the Explorer Corps’ ships for the past several months. Lizzie couldn’t not recognize the weasel of a man before her, in his gaudy tailcoat and captain’s hat, shrewd eyes staring her down.

It was still a surprise, though. Why was she tied up on a ship belonging to Gristol Malik, of all people?

The other two people were unknown to Lizzie—she recognized the person on the right as a mage, though, the embroidery on their robe a web of protective sigils. Lizzie thought to her own missing charms and a twinge of jealousy flashed through her.

But the person on the left…

Lizzie had never seen an Inquisitor in person, but the pin on their coat was unmistakable. This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good.

Okay, Lizzie, you got this, she told herself. Play it cool. Whatever they ask, you don’t know anything. She could do this. She could do this.

Gristol regarded her primly, hands folded behind his back. “Young lady,” He started, and oh, Lizzie did not like that form of address, “Do you know why you’re here?”

Lizzie shrugged. Play it cool. She could do that. “No.” She could guess, but she didn’t feel like playing any games.

Gristol huffed. “You have information that I want.” He groused, “And I’m going to get my answers one way or another.”

Lizzie stared him down. Gristol’s rivalry with Truman was well-known—Gristol’s attempts to buy out the Explorer Corps had been going on long enough to become part of the local gossip. Whatever Gristol wanted to know about the Explorer Corps, whatever information he thought he could get from her—he wasn’t getting it. Lizzie would rather die than betray the Explorer Corps like that. Especially with an Inquisitor involved—though this one was likely on private contract.

At Lizzie’s continued silence, Gristol frowned. He turned to the mage and muttered something about translation spells.

Lizzie continued to stare at him. She wasn’t stupid—and she wasn’t going to squeal, either.

The mage muttered back, shifting nervously. After a few moments of whispered conversation, they stepped forwards, pulling out a scroll.

A spell scroll! An actual spell scroll! Oh, what Lizzie wouldn’t give to get her hands on an honest-to-gods spell scroll. Actually learning spells was far superior, sure, but it wasn’t about the spells—spell scrolls were only available to accomplished mages, not witches in training who still got treated like little girls by the guild. Not that Lizzie was bitter, or anything.

The mage read the text, and the scroll burst into flame. Light glowed around Lizzie for a moment, luminous silver that left a cool feeling in her throat. She was almost offended at the waste of a good spell scroll.

“Now then,” Gristol began, “Let’s begin properly.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small object. Lizzie regarded the item in Gristol’s hands suspiciously. He held it out in front of her—

Lizzie’s eyes widened. That was—

Gristol smirked. “Ah, good, you recognize this. Can you tell me what it is?”

It was a shell, Lizzie knew that much. A shimmery spiral shell about as big as her palm, with blue bands all along the spiral. There was something carved at the opening, a set of symbols that Lizzie didn’t recognize. It had shown up on her desk the morning prior, with no explanation.

That was all Lizzie knew, though. And she wasn’t going to say anything, anyway.

“This,” Gristol continued, seemingly unbothered by Lizzie’s continued silence, “Is a boon. Boons come in a variety of forms, as I’m sure you’re aware.” He turned the shell over in his hands. “But this is no regular boon.” Gristol tilted the shell so that the symbols carved into the opening caught the light of the oil lamp. “This boon was made by mermaids.” He spoke like it was some dramatic revelation—and on some level, Lizzie supposed it was. But she kept her expression as neutral as she could, even as her mind began to race.

“You got this from someone.” Gristol said. “And I want to know who.”

Lizzie glared at him. “No.”

Gristol sniffed, turning his nose up haughtily. He gestured to the Inquisitor. “Make her talk.” He ordered, stepping back.

The Inquisitor pulled a small dagger out of her jacket. Lizzie had only a moment to register a flame-shaped pommel and red-dyed leather around the hilt before the tip of the blade touched the exposed skin of her collarbone—

Pain!

Fire lanced through her veins until the blade was withdrawn. Lizzie’s chest heaved, the ropes digging into her from her thrashing. She’d avoided screaming, barely, but ow.

Lizzie hissed. Ugh, enchanted blades always seemed so cool until she was at the sharp end.

“Now that you see what being obstinate gets you, are you ready to cooperate?” Gristol’s voice was as slimy as the caviar his company sold. Lizzie wished she could punch him.

Lizzie wheezed, waiting until her chest stopped heaving to speak. “Nope.” Her voice came out strained, but spite was powering her now—she’d drag this out until the cows came home if she had to.

Gristol’s face turned to the color of puce. He turned to the mage. “Do something.” He urged, in what was technically a whisper but was audible to Lizzie all the same.

The mage floundered. “What do you want me to do?” They whispered back, still perfectly audible to Lizzie.

“What about a truth spell?” Gristol whispered. “Why didn’t we start with that?”

“I don’t have the ingredients for that, sir.” the mage responded, “And while it might compel her to speak, and would certainly force her to be honest, she could still remain silent with enough force of will.”

“Then what do I pay you for?” Gristol whisper-shouted. “Can’t you be useful?”

Lizzie struggled not to laugh. What a joke. The Inquisitor was doing a good job of ignoring the whisper-argument happening next to her, her expression betraying nothing. So she was the real deal. That’d be pretty cool if it wasn’t Lizzie who was being interrogated. And if Inquisitors weren’t primarily agents of the powerful bourgeoisie or the government.

The enchanted blade was sick as hell, though. Even though it was a torture instrument.

Eventually, Gristol huffed. “Go stand in the corner and be useless, then.” He hissed, before turning back to Lizzie.

“You have two options.” He said, folding his hands behind his back once again. “Either you tell me where you got that boon, and I reward you for your compliance, or—” His eyes narrowed, his voice dropping into an ominous tone, “if you continue to defy me, then I will simply rip the answers out of you.” He grinned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I get what I want either way, girl, so I would suggest you become more agreeable.”

Lizzie snorted. Yeah, right. If that shell had come from a mer, then that was all the more reason to not tell Gristol anything—not that Lizzie would sell out anyone to this man. Not even her worst enemy.

Gristol scowled at her continued silence. He nodded to the Inquisitor—

Lizzie’s breath cut off as the knife dug into her skin, fire cutting through her like a million burning knives. She struggled to breathe past the pain, past the burning burning burning crawling under her skin.

The knife withdrew. A warm trickle of blood dripped down Lizzie’s chest.

Spots danced behind her eyes, her head pounding. She glared Gristol down, her mouth clenched shut. He could have her stabbed as many times as he wanted, she was not talking. Not to him.

“Again.” Gristol ordered, as a fresh wave of burning shot through Lizzie. “As many times as it takes.” He added.

Lizzie thrashed against her restraints, trying her best to keep her cool. The Inquisitor attacked her shoulder, now, pressing the flat of the blade against the skin until the smell of burnt flesh filled Lizzie’s nose. Still, Lizzie refused to scream.

“Keep at it.” Gristol decided. He turned to the mage. “Figure out what you need for a truth spell, and don’t come back until you have one.” They wasted no time in leaving the room, and Gristol made his way to the now-open door. He turned to Lizzie one last time. “I pray you’re in a better mood when I return.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Lizzie alone with the Inquisitor. She regarded Lizzie carefully, squeezing the hilt of her dagger.

Lizzie glared back.

“If simple pain won’t do the trick,” the Inquisitor mused, “Then I will simply have to wear you down.” The Inquisitor grabbed Lizzie’s face in a gloved hand, squeezing hard enough to bruise. Her grip was iron. “Hold still.”

Lizzie squirmed. The Inquisitor tsked, shifted her grip ever-so-slightly, and gently drew the tip of the blade down Lizzie’s cheek, just beside her thumb.

Lizzie gasped at the pain, her eyes widening. But she didn’t scream.

“This would be easier if you weren’t tied to a chair,” The Inquisitor groused. “But I dislike easy.” She tipped Lizzie’s face back, forcing Lizzie to look at the ceiling. The heat of the blade disappeared from her face, then, and Lizzie struggled to free herself from the Inquisitor’s grip to follow it—

The blade stabbed into her thigh. Pain burning hot scorching pain pain pain exploded in Lizzie’s leg, and her breath hitched. She breathed out a strained hiss, but she didn’t scream. She wouldn’t.

The blade swiped over her thigh, cutting through both her pants and her skin. Lizzie gasped, but she didn’t scream.

Another cut. Another swallowed scream.

The Inquisitor growled, letting go of Lizzie’s face. Lizzie struggled to breathe around the pain, her face smarting and her leg aching. There was dried blood on her collarbone. When she looked down at her leg, she could see three shallow cuts, and one deep wound. Blood was starting to trickle down her leg.

Another cut, made while the Inquisitor rifled through her pockets with her other hand. Lizzie panted, exhaustion starting to creep into her edges. But she didn’t scream.

The Inquisitor pulled out a vial, the glass shimmering in the lamplight. She popped the cork out with her thumb, and tilted to vial over Lizzie’s cuts—

Lizzie screamed.

+=+=+=+=+

Gristol returned with the mage in tow.

The truth spell didn’t take long to cast, and Lizzie didn’t have the components for a counterspell. She didn’t even have the energy—the acid in her cuts had sapped most of her strength.

Still, she grit her teeth. She couldn’t tell Gristol anything if she didn’t speak at all.

The room was starting to spin when Gristol next held up the shell. “Where did you get this? Who did you get it from?”

Lizzie glared. Words gathered in her throat. She swallowed them down—though not without effort.

The blade pressed against her thigh, and Lizzie yelped.

“I don’t know!” She blurted out, much to her own horror. No no no—don’t talk, don’t talk, stop talking.

Gristol became puce once again. “What do you mean, you don’t know?” He demanded, his voice coming out in a screech.

Lizzie stared him down, even as the answer bubbled to the surface in her mind. She didn’t know—she wasn’t even sure that mer were real. Oh, sure, she’d heard legends, and the shell certainly seemed real, but she’d never met one—not to her knowledge.

Gristol took a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The things I do for good caviar…” He muttered. Lizzie felt her hatred for him rise another notch.

“Think, girl.” Gristol urged. “Surely you at least suspect where this boon came from.” He leaned in closer, and Lizzie fought to keep her head through the dizziness. “Someone had to have given it to you, and that someone must think very highly of you.” He leaned back, tapping his chin contemplatively. “Perhaps some friend of yours? One who does not live here, but who still passes through?” He turned and paced a little bit. “Someone accomplished in magic—they’d have to be, to be a mer in disguise.” He looked at Lizzie, his face seeming to melt into the slow spin of the room around her. “Who gave you this boon?”

Lizzie didn’t know. The only people she was close enough to were Morris, who had lived in this town longer than Lizzie had; Norma, her literal sister; Sam, who was certainly an anomaly but whose family lived further inland than Lizzie’s; and—

Realization hit Lizzie like a horse had kicked her. There was only one person she could have gotten the mysterious shell from—no, there were two.

It made so much sense. Too much sense. No wonder Gisu always had rare ingredients from the ocean—she lived there. Lizzie had always thought that Gisu was a good diver, that the reason she came and went by ship—though that was probably a lie, now that Lizzie thought about it—was so that she could get her hands on the sea’s bounties. But no, Gisu had those things, those rare spells that Lizzie had never heard of before, that knowledge of the ocean because she was a mer.

And if Gisu was a mer…

Gisu was careful about what she told Lizzie. Never gave away too much. So it didn’t seem likely for her to just leave a dead giveaway like the boon—not without an explanation, at least. Which meant that it could have only come from one person.

The sting of magic pricked at Lizzie’s brain. Oh, fuck.

“I’ve got a face.” The mage said, the magic fading from their hands.

Gristol beamed. “Excellent!” He turned to the Inquisitor, pulling out a small bag. “Your payment.” He tossed the bag to her. It was a clear dismissal; the Inquisitor left without another word.

With that, Gristol turned back to the door, pocketing the shell once again. “Prepare a counterspell for transformations,” he ordered, as the mage hurried to follow behind him. Before the door closed, Lizzie heard Gristol’s ecstatic “I’m getting a mer!” as he skipped down the hall and out of view.

The door slammed shut. Lizzie trembled, her head spinning.

Gisu was a mer. Gisu lived in the ocean and probably had the entire time that Lizzie had known her. Gisu had been lying to her—

No. No, that was stupid. Of course Gisu never told her, the girl had trust issues a mile wide. And it didn’t matter where Gisu was from or what she was—she was Lizzie’s friend. Gills and fins wouldn’t change that.

And if Gisu was a mer, then that meant that Dion probably was, too. That would explain the general… everything about him, honestly. From the anxiety to the unfamiliarity with everyday conventions. Lizzie had attributed it to him being a foreign prince—and in a way, Lizzie supposed he probably was—he was just from a more aquatic kingdom than she was thinking.

Lizzie needed to get out of here. She needed to get out of here so she could get to Gisu and Dion because she needed to warn them—

Getting out of here was easier said than done, though. Lizzie had been left to her own devices, sure, but she was still tied to this chair.

The ropes were loose in some places, though, and Lizzie could faintly smell the scent of burned rope. If her whole body didn’t feel like overcooked meat, then maybe she could wriggle free. But exhaustion weighed her down, the sting of her cuts making her arms heavy.

Right. Only one thing to do, then.

Quietly, trying not to alert anyone who might be outside the door, Lizzie spoke. It was a spell that Gisu had taught her, back when they had first met—and more importantly, all it required was a fuel source. The blood trickling from Lizzie’s cuts would be enough.

“Vanish.” Lizzie urged. She felt the burn of magic on her arms—

The world complied. The ropes around her disappeared—so did the chair, bursting into dust.

Lizzie fell to the floor with a thunk. Ooookay, maybe she overdid it. But nothing else appeared to be missing, so now all she had to do was get out of here unseen. She rose to her feet on less-than-steady legs—fuck, she’d need to do something about those wounds if she wanted to get anywhere.

She had none of her protective charms. All of the healing spells she knew required ingredients she didn’t have.

“Oh, damn it all.” Lizzie yanked off her jacket and pulled off her shirt. She threw the jacket back on, grabbed her shirt, and tore. She didn’t have the resources for any healing spells, but, as she whispered reinforcement into the strips of fabric—she could still brace herself against the pain.

Her legs were still unsteady when she was done, but at least she’d be able to walk without limping (much).

Gristol had left the door unlocked. Lizzie pushed it open slowly, keeping an ear out for passing footsteps.

The hall was empty.

Carefully, one hand braced against the wall, Lizzie made her way towards the stairs. She could hear people moving about on the deck above her—someone came down the stairs, and Lizzie just barely managed to duck into a side room in time.

“Captain says we gotta get the nets ready.” They said. Lizzie didn’t hear the response, both sets of steps disappearing down the hall.

Fuck.

How the hell was she going to get off this ship at this rate? She couldn’t just walk across the deck in broad daylight.

Or… morninglight, actually, looking at the porthole across the room. The sun had cleared the horizon, but not by a whole lot.

Wait.

Lizzie crept past the bunks in the room and examined the porthole. It was just big enough to fit through, and the latch wasn’t hard to figure out. She pushed it open.

Carefully, Lizzie poked her head outside, glancing around.

The water below was dark, reflecting the light of the rising sun. The ship she was on was still moored in the harbor—Lizzie could see the docks towards the bow—so Lizzie wouldn’t have far to swim. Hopefully.

The water was going to be cold. Lizzie didn’t have her charms to protect her—but she knew how to swim, and she was good at it, too.

(Would she still be good with injured legs? With exhaustion clinging to her bones?)

There was no other choice. Lizzie needed to get out of here, and get to Gisu. She needed to warn her friend.

Lizzie inhaled, steeled herself, and took the plunge.

[monetizeme]

Art reminds us to look outwards at the things that truly matter

How often do you look up at the sky, rather than down at the black mirror on which you might be reading this column? Will you read to the end of this page? How many tabs have you opened today? If you’re on a train, how many people are interacting with fellow humans rather than looking at their phones? I am not one to judge. I am as addicted to the dopamine hit as anyone. But lately, with the world becoming more disillusioned and divided, it seems more urgent than ever to look outwards rather than in, and to pay attention in the most valuable ways.

I was reminded of this when seeing Bed Rot, a tapestry by US-based artist Qualeasha Wood, at Salon 94 in New York. It shows a woman slumped, drained, or “bed rotting”, with bright white eyes seemingly lit by her screen. Framing her are numerous tabs with slogans that are emblematic of 2024 culture (“brat summer”, for instance) but somehow already feel outdated, lost in the speed of our internet-fuelled world. She looks exhausted. I feel exhausted looking at her. And her malaise is a common one.

In a new radio series, Appetite for Distraction, Matthew Syed explores the state of our attention spans. While debates around this issue have existed for millennia – medieval monks were outraged at the technology of “the book” – it feels especially applicable to our digital age. Studies have found that on average people spend a mere 40 seconds or less on something viewed on a screen – an 80% reduction since 2004.

While distraction can come in many forms, the problem today, Syed informs us, is the unregulated exploitation of us by giant tech companies. With their sophisticated algorithms, they are using more of our data than ever, turning our ever-longer scrolling into cash. This encourages addiction and prevents, especially in children, the growth of the brain. Slowly, it seems, we are becoming less engaged, less creative, less connected, less human.

More than ever, we are craving art that can offer world-shifting perspectives

This is not to say that we should do away with modern digital technologies. Great things come out of them: global connectivity; community building, especially for subcultures; movement-making; a platform to give voice to people, to spread joy, beauty and knowledge. But we should be aware of the more nefarious aspects that are encoded into their design, made to keep us captivated. Wood’s tapestry is an unnerving vision for what this world could, or has already, become.

It is worth recognising that Bed Rot held my attention for longer than my screen usually would, affirming art’s power to make the viewer stop, look and think. It is so much harder to turn away when a material object is in front of you – just as a conversation is more meaningful in person than on a screen.

Slumped and drained … Bed Rot by Qualeasha Wood. Photograph: Courtesy the artist, Pippy Houldsworth Gallery, and Salon 94. © Qualeasha Wood.

Lying in the Great Basin Desert, Utah, are Holt’s Sun Tunnels: four giant concrete tubes, tall enough to walk through, that face each other in an X formation. During the day, you can see the expansiveness of the arid landscape and sky through the tunnels. If it’s sunny, light dapples through holes in the pipes arranged in the constellations Capricorn, Columba, Draco and Perseus – as if you were walking on stars. Twice a year, on the summer and winter solstices, the sun will align exactly with the tunnels and the light will pour through.

Using the Earth and cosmos as her tools, Holt, who died in 2014, accentuates the vast beauty of the natural world by providing a vessel with which to view it. Her work reaffirms the fact that land, sea, sky and human connection are all out there, vying for our attention, but without any motive for capitalist gain.

As the writer Iris Murdoch said in an interview: “Most of the time we fail to see the big wide real world at all because we are blinded by obsession, anxiety, envy, resentment, fear. We make a small personal world in which we remain enclosed. Great art is liberating, it enables us to see and take pleasure in what is not ourselves.”

Art reminds us to look up from the tiny world we’ve made on the black mirror that lives in our pocket. It helps us to understand our place in the universe, and look out to the expanse, rather than into our filtered selves through tech. It’s time to take back our attention; and to give it to the things we deserve and that matter.

[cxnsolatio]

There was nothing about Law that suggested him to be affiliated with the marines. No, hold on that thought — he was affiliated with the organisation indeed, only at an indirect and dishonourable capacity. Were it not for him and others of the same ilk, those poor bastards would be out of a job, would they not? The occupation of justice demanded a bountiful supply of rogues to keep it thriving; that is just the way of law enforcement economics. Law was quite happy to support the system in an anti-establishment kind of way.

Be that as it may, he resented the connection, though he could not blame the woman for not recognising him as a pirate. In spite of the trademarked smiley he wore for a jolly roger, his name was not yet widely known across the Blues, his face and figures yet unremarkable, and relative anonymity was not without its privileges. But the tide, it does turn, and there would come a day Law's wave would roll up and engorge into a devastating tsunami.

Alas for his asker, Law's current status had thus far granted him an uneventful promenade since the Heart Pirates had arrived on land, and to travel in a submarine generally extended the necessary timeframe for one to be spotted, reported and chased after by the opposing party. As it follows, not only did Law have time to engage in extracurricular activities, and not even having an entire battalion hunting him down avenues and alleyways could dampen his resolute and everlasting will to be a bastard, whenever the chance presented itself.

The chance did present. Whether aware of it or not, the woman had just provided him with a very private piece of information most irresistible to take advantage of; her only glimpse of luck being it was a bit of ill-spirited fun that Law procured, not a victim to subject to unspeakable acts of cruelty. His heart was not that black.

She sought meaning to her existence, perchance to be found through entering the marine corps. He supposed that could work — living every day with one purpose in mind, the one of finding a most foul villain to end in an equally deviant way did provide the individual with an urge to go onward. Law did know this by personal experience. Hatred was quite the life force. To him, she appeared a bit too tame to be capable of harbouring passionate hate for outlaws, yet doubted not marine indoctrination would know how to explore her emptiness to its full extent, strip her of whatever gentleness resided in her — weakness.

Law considered the poster balancing oh-so-softly in the breeze, as the wind shook the tranquil leaves. The charcoal illustration of a few marines rounding up a group of crudely-drawn pirates was laughable; as if all pirates were dirty drunkards wearing eye patches and macaws for fashion accessories, a leg or indeed two conspicuously absent. This scene unveiled behind a dashing officer in the foreground, demanding attention to his cause. It was good marketing, Law had to admit, to promise so much in so short a phrase. It was hard to believe the quiet village might need any protection at all but, then again, at least a dozen pirates paraded the marketplace right now, shopping for fresh vegetables for dinner and canned goods that would last them a prolonged stay under the sea should the next island be weeks away. The Heart Pirates may be the least of the locals' problems.

Not one to deny a damsel in distress her due assistance, particularly when there was something for him to gain in return — insight, a debt to be collected at a later time, the sheer enjoyment of acting on his scoundrel nature — Law put on his best acting skills and feigned shock, umbrage even, as though he had been asked to do something very low, such as to kick a baby or steal candy from a puppy. No, that was not it… But these were vile examples as well. Unceremoniously, he took the woman by the shoulder and pulled her away from the recruitment tree.

Did he know about these marine people? Oh, did he ever!

❝ Oh no, Miss, you don't want to mix with that lot. ❞ His brow furrowed, the study of her expression a constancy, and conspiratorially he whispered to the stranger, ❝ An awful lot they are. They say the marines steal children off their beds in the middle of the night; pluck babes off their mothers' breast. It's a cult, Miss, that's what it is. ❞ Law looked to the right and to the left, as if worried over being heard, a teeny pantomime to give credence to his cock-and-bull story. Bravo.

❝ I know what you're thinking. 'But, my most gallant sir, certainly it can't be so. That poster looks jolly good fun! Ah. ❞ Law pointed to his temple. ❝ Propaganda. Don't let yourself be deceived. As a matter of fact… ❞ Law circled vulture-like around the woman; it was nothing short of a prodigy how quickly falsities were threaded into arguments by the spinning wheels of his mind. Bullshitting was always such enormous fun! ❝ That is why I'm here. Captain Trafalgar, Miss, on behalf of the World Investigation Bureau, to scrutinise the local branch and the allegations of kidnapping and maltreating that befall the marines. Needless to say, mum's the word.

❝ And now that I've told you all of this, my lady, the question you must ask yourself is this: whose side do you want to be on? ❞

Law hoped, of course, that she would choose his. The village was quiet... Too quiet. News of strangers infiltrating the marine headquarters in spite of its heavy security and wreaking havoc was sure to divert the locals when they hit the papers. Plus, the Heart Pirates could use another measure of infamy for their growing popularity. To lead an up-and-coming pirate crew, a captain must be a good many things. He had to be level-headed and brave, and have expert feet to walk the fine line between authority and democratic exercise. A showman. And his crew's best publicist.

'Do something with your life, be part of the marines'.

A poster is hung around a tree in the village of the East Blue that Tashigi was currently stationed and was reading after she had just gotten thrown out of another dojo. This was being a common occurrence and the flyer did seem to be promising. Maybe these marines would let her join. They seemed a lot better than her other options at the moment.

She decides to ask someone about the poster and chooses a sullen person to her right. "Um, do you know about these marine people? Can they help me train and have my life mean something like that poster says??".

@cxnsolatio liked for a Tiny Tashigi starter call.

[siempre-bucky]

Are you willing to write a blurb with Hangman and his girlfriend writing each other love letters? I love when writers explore his soft side☺️

Jake Seresin x Reader

wc: 917

a/n: ahhhh! This was so cute and so much fun to write!! I hope you like it!!!

“Claudia, my dear,” Jake spoke as his pen hurried across a white envelope. 

The woman behind the desk grumbled at the appealing aviator and stood up, “What do you want, Hangman?” she intoned as she leaned over the metal desk, her thin eyebrows lowered to show her lack of enthusiasm. 

“Got any mail for me?” he asked, a toothpick twirling in between his perfect teeth. 

Claudia sighed and opened her filing cabinet. Jakes's heartbeat sped up as she pulled out a few letters. The white one had to be from his parents, but the bright pink one was from you. Back when he was in boot camp you had told him you would always send your letters in pink envelopes so they could easily be picked out in a sea of envelopes. 

He smoothly took the letter and placed one back in her hand. 

“You know we’re getting off this thing early right?” she scoffed, a small smirk coming to her lips. 

“Romance, Claud. Romance,” He laughed, wagging his eyebrows before sauntering off. After he turned his back, he held up the envelope to his nose and inhaled the fading scent of your sweet perfume that was mixed in with the smells of the envelope’s glue and jet fuel.  

—

The rooster clock on the floral wallpaper-covered wall clucked throughout the kitchen. It was four, right on the dot. With a light gasp, you peeled open the lace curtain to the back door and grinned as the mailman walked towards your mailbox. 

“Afternoon, Miss Y/L/N,” the mailman chuckled, tipping his hat to you as you hurried down the cobblestone walkway. 

“Hi, Will, got anything for us today?” you asked hopefully. You should have asked if he had anything for you. Bills and credit card offers came every day, but it was rare to get a letter from your boyfriend while deployed. It wasn’t Jake’s fault his letters didn’t come every day, you were lucky for Will to hand you a letter at least once a month. 

“Let me check,” he hummed happily as he dug into his large satchel. “Ah-ha!” he yelped as he pulled out a couple of pieces of mail for your family. “When does he come home?” he asked as you giddily flipped through the mail, your thumb lovingly swiping over his name in the corner. The thick white envelope looked like hell with its bent corners and skid marks like it was run over a bunch of times. 

“What a journey you must’ve been on,” you whispered to yourself before returning your attention to the mailman. “One more month,” you said, trying to remain composed and not like you have a small calendar in your bedside table drawer that you mark off each day. 

“Hopefully we’ll see a wedding around these parts,” he chuckled, shooting you a playful wink, “Have a nice day now, Y/N. Tell your folks I said hello.” 

You waved him off and pressed the envelope to your nose, you could faintly smell the cologne that he religiously sprayed the letters with. You held it there all the way to the little porch swing, recalling your first kiss years ago on the very same spot to get in the proper mindset. 

Jake must’ve written a page a day, you marveled at the folded pages that landed in your lap. His handwriting was nothing to rave about, sometimes you were lucky if it was legible but you knew him well enough to make out the rough parts. He told you about his days on the carrier, how many whales he saw in the water, knowing you loved when he counted them.  He didn’t fail to tell you all the bad parts, how homesick he was, or when something in training scared the hell out of him. 

He was always at his most honest in his letters, he shared the best with you in texts or when you talked on the phone. It was his letters that showed the most vulnerable side of your boyfriend, you loved every moment—the good, the bad, and the ugly.  

Turning to the last page, you broke out into a love-sick smile. He always ended his letters with how much he loved you and how he couldn’t wait to be back in your embrace. “Have you gotten to the end yet?” a voice asked. 

Tears instantly sprang to your eyes, blinking them away and shaking your head. This wasn't real, he was in the middle of the ocean. “Stop,” you told yourself, eyes glued to the letter. 

“Sweetheart.” The voice was gentle, sounding like it was right in front of you. You looked up hesitantly, your eyes peeking above the white paper. Jake stood there on the other side of the porch, his truck parked right outside the gate. 

“Jake!” You cried as you jolted from your seat, sprinting from the deck and right into his arms. You clutched onto the fabric of his black t-shirt, nuzzling your face into his chest. “You’re not supposed to be home yet.” 

“Training ended early, looks like my letters just beat me,” he chuckled. You pulled back and he was quick to cup your face and wiped the tears that managed to escape your eyes. 

“Tell me how it ends,” you said, motioning your heads towards the letters. 

“How about I show you?” he smirked, leaving forward and kissing you softly. You smiled through the kiss and wrapped your hands around his wrists before he could pull away.  

[quicksilverlightning]

Volo leads her to a part of the Fieldlands she’s never explored before – it’s actually not that far away from the base camp, but she has always followed the dirt path straight ahead on her excursions, at least at first, and never bothered with the mountains directly surrounding Jubilife.

It’s quickly obvious where they’re heading; among the lush green and fluttering Beautifly sits a large scar of darkness like an unhealed wound. The living flora seems to shrink away from the mutilated earth, and even the Beautifly don’t dare disturb its air space. Akari kneels to touch a blackened flower.

“What… what happened here?”

Volo strides into the ruined grass and bids her follow. She does, hesitantly stepping over the brittle remains of plant life that turns to ash under her feet. Near the center, Volo kneels at a large rock set into the ground, brushing his fingers over the top. Closer, she can see something carved into the stone, a series of symbols that she does not recognize.

“This is where the last Shepard of the Celestica fell.”

“Shepard?”

“Yes. Instead of leaders or commanders, the Celestica had Guides. Particularly learned or respected Guides were bestowed the title of Shepard.” His index traces the carved symbols with reverence. Akari kneels at his side.

“What happened here?”

Volo does not answer right away. Instead, he brings his hands together and closes his eyes, murmuring a short prayer in his ancient tongue. She does not know the words but senses their sincerity and heartache. After, he takes a drink from his water-skin and sets to work clearing the dead flora from around the stone.

“The Celestica roamed Hisui long before the arrival of the clans,” his hands are already dusty with ash and death. “When the wanderers came, they opened their lands to them with caution but open hearts. Those who would become the Pearl clan favored the frozen north, its cold beauty and thin air. Those who would become the Diamond clan chose the nigh-inhospitable marshes, made a home in its mud and rock and poison. And for a time, there was peace.” Akari listens with rapt attention.

“But Hisui has ever been a harsh region – resources are scarce and the Pokemon are vicious. The balance was precarious; perhaps its upset was inevitable.” Volo muses over a gray flower, as though recounting his people’s history to it instead of Akari.

“When the fighting began, the Clans had already chosen their gods – of time, and of space. Palkia and Dialga were once known to them by name, venerated and worshiped by the people who came to this land as strangers. And when those strangers called, they answered.” The blossom in his fist crumbles to powder as his fingers clench.

“And though the Celestica knew the true Almighty, He did not answer. And so His children laid waste to His chosen, desecrated His temples and salted the earth.” Volo’s nails dig into his palm, expression wrenched between anger and pain.

“I have known a total of six Celesticans in my life – myself, Cogita, a pair of siblings, and my family. We were the only ones left.” He forces his fingers to loosen, rubbing at the crescent-shaped imprints left behind. Akari swallows dryly.

“What happened to the siblings?”

“Gone.” He smiles bitterly. “I know not where – perhaps to Johto. Perhaps even further, across the sea. But they went together, and that’s more comfort than most have.”

“And… and the last two?”

Volo turns away, refusing her gaze.

“One of them is right here,” he lays his palm on the rock and Akari breathes sharply.

“Which – “

“Sequoro. My father’s name was Sequoro.” He rises to his feet, dusting off his knees and offers a hand to Akari, who takes it, but does not get up.

“Why did you bring me here, Volo?”

[starshiningsirius]

Like old times (Yandere Azul x reader)

@bryzie27 - i like what you did with overblot leona. could you do something similar with overblot azul?

Not sure what you mean like the chase scene? The dynamics of Octanivelle's structure still aren't quite clear to me if they can go out in the water but I'll try!

I FORGOT THE GIF IS FROM @flowerofthemoonworld !

Let's give the octopus some love!

"Hey, your Azul right?"

He lifted his head to look at who had spoken to him. It was a mermaid with a strange speckled tail that added to her beauty. She seemed to be more of the reserved type. Her hair had two streaks of the same color on either side of her face and the rest was all one color. Her eyes shimmered radiantly.

He could feel a rush of heat claim his entire face.

"Here." She handed him his books.

"W -why are you doing this?" The young octopus sniffled.

He wasn't expecting this, not with the way everyone else treated him. It didn't make any sense why you'd treat him kindly. A freakish eight legged merman who couldn't swim correctly.

"It's the right thing to do, Azul. I couldn't just swim away with you like this. It'd be immoral."

From that first encounter on forward they became friends. She helped him walk and swim a bit better considering he found it embarrassing. She didn't even have tentacles yet she instructed him so well.. Maybe he inked once or twice, a few times around her on accident, he swears! It didn't matter she was fine with it. She didn't mind one bit who he was.

Even when they went to the Atlantica Museum she stayed by his side and explored it with him. He was a bit slow considering his physique was on the chubby side so he wasn't fast. It still didn't matter, for some odd reason she stayed with him. In the picture commemorating the trip he held her hand since he was a bit self conscious about his picture being taken.

Y/n couldn't help but find it adorable. Everything about Azul wasn't at all strange to her it only made her more curious to get to know him. He would always apologize for any small thing he did wrong. She would always say, "It's fine." as if he did nothing. Her smile always seemed to brighten Azul's darkest days.

She'd visit him in his family restaurant in which his mother and father always welcomed his first friend. They were overjoyed. She saw him gorging himself on the plate of food in front of him compared to her smaller portion. She couldn't help but to stare, it made her understand why he was on the chubby side. Then he looked at her sauce around his mouth and she couldn't help but smile at him with laughter filling the area. He was embarrassed blushing a shade of red and he felt a bit ashamed.

"Azulie, you're absolutely adorable!" She said through her laughter.

It was one of his most fondest memories he ever had with her, but all good things had to come to an end.

Eventually she had to depart from the northern seas to the far southern ones. She had to leave Azul behind. She had given him a hug it was full of so much warmth of which he had never felt before and it made his heart race twice as fast. Both parents of the children found it endearing their children had found a friend.

. . .

And that was that. Time passed and he eventually became Azul Ashengrotto the dorm leader of Octanivelle who could grant any wish just as the sea witch. He could never ever forget the one person he was so fond of though. It never left him every time he wrote down a contract he could remember a time where he truly did care for someone.

The new year at Night Raven was his second year while a new group of first years came entering the school. He had ordered Jade to get information on each of them and when he went through the long list of students that had been sorted into Octanivelle while in his office. He immediately crossed one oh so familiar.

Y/n L/n.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He put the sheet of paper down and opened one of his drawers in the desk that showed him and her back then. He never altered this photo as he did countless others. She accepted him for who he was and that was well enough a reason for him to admire her.

He automatically called upon Jade as Floyd would have probably scared the poor girl. He told him to fetch her immediately.

When he finally did see her for the first time in years he was astounded at how you changed so little but so much at the same time. You had grown taller and your eyes still sparkled just as they always did. You had the same two streaks on either side of your hair which had grown a few inches he might add.

Jade had left to do other tasks he was assigned but Azul couldn't care less seeing as he had his childhood friend and sweetheart in front of him.

"Azulie, that really is you huh?" Your voice had matured but was more timid just like the very first time they met. Of course it was so long ago that they're more like strangers now. That nickname though, it's been a long time since he's heard it.

"Yes, I've changed quite a bit." He was a little nervous though he'd never admit it his voice slightly betrayed him and his face had a little red tint. He tried pushing up his glasses to shield it from her eyes but it was a futile attempt. He heard her chuckle that made his heart race like never before.

"You haven't changed fully as your still the most adorable by far." She said.

That made his face blossom as red as a rose in the rose maze of Heartsbyul. Heat was exerting itself from his still body that he sat in the chair from.

From that moment on he would keep a watchful eye on her. He would always try his best when she was around and get any info on anything going on pertaining to her.

She had met Floyd and Jade before who Azul wasn't too fond of at first, but she reccomended he became friends with them back then since it wasn't everyday someone didn't come up to tease him and noticed his accomplishments. Of course it was only because of Azul that they met again at Night Raven. The first time she met Jade was when he first brought her to see Azul in his office. He looked familiar to her and she mentioned it to him, and they both shared their fondest memories on the way. She met Floyd a little later on in the Mostro Lounge as he had taken her order and he noticed she had come in a lot just to see Azul. Jade had to explain the situation that she wasn't required to pay for any food she ate there because of an order Azul had given out.

Azul would spend some time out of the day to just hang out with you if he wasn't always busy with the lounge. It was always a joy to be with you, it reminded him of when you were both younger. He thought back to those days every night and day that you had still never left his mind. The thought of you leaving again made him lose his sense of reason and fall deeper in his sweet obsession.

He had started to act different you noticed. He had become a bit more invasive of your personal space in which you remember that only happened when he was nervous at least you thought he grew out of it.

Jade and Floyd began to direct you to the Lounge like your life was there and no where else. It'd only be a matter of time before Azul was informed by Jade of his sweetheart's newest infatuation.

Vil happened to catch your attention. It led Azul to be green with envy. He knew the dorm leader of Pomeifore had complimented her one day and it was enough to send her falling head over heels. He had so many followers it made no sense why he had to take something else Azul had wanted for the longest time. With Vil's beauty he only began to question his own.

He had to come up with a solution just as he had done for those bullies. He just couldn't lose Y/n again. Not if he had any say in it.

After hours of pondering in his office sinking his nails into his desk the answer happened to be right behind him. The vault that was situated behind his desk held the many contracts he had collected.

Maybe if he could impress her she wouldn't see him as that stupid, clumsy octopus he once was. All these different magic spells that he obtained from those fools from the exams on land in Night Raven and those idiots who swam under the sea.

That's when his plan fell apart. Y/n avoided him all of a sudden. Mainly having spent time with those troublesome first years he sent to the museum to collect one of the last remnants of his past.

He didn't have time to keep thinking about Y/n at the moment which irritated him quite a bit. One thing led to another and now he was out here trying to negotiate with the arrogant and prideful dorm head of Savanclaw. As soon as he destroyed them all hope was lost.

He was taunting him, but his next few words really took him over the top in terms of a sadistic being.

"You know, one of your little sea friends really wanted to believe you were nice. We just had to show her the real Azul Ashengrotto." Leona had smirked turning his head to the side, beyond the corner of the tunnel his darling angelfish had appeared. Disbelief in her eyes, she couldn't even meet his eyes.

That's when everyone else had arrived, but the deed was already done. He had lost everything and his angelfish had seen him as a weak being, the same stupid clumsy octopus he hated being.

They took her from his side. He had her in his grasp and they stole her. He had lost it.

His newborn and unimaginable power were apparent now. He just had to get it all back. Not even Floyd or Jade wanted to help him either.

He reminded himself of you holding your pen ready to fire another offensive attack. His anger swelled inside him where he could tap into more power.

"GIVE HER BACK TO ME! GIVE ME BACK WHAT YOU TOOK! "

A large swarm of harsh black wind had overwhelmed the group. She still managed to stand but when the dust cleared she saw all of them had collapsed unconscious. Even the prefect who was thrown back the farthest had their head hit the tunnel, it didn't look like she was breathing from here though.

She took a look back at Azul and suddenly she felt her feet carrying her away from the scene, having Azul call out to her from behind.

* * *

It's been a while since she had to swim that fast. Her tail fin was starting to hurt from the constant movement. She wanted to take a break, a never ending nightmare she pleaded in her head to be over.

That was until she heard him calling for her.

"Oh Angelfish! You really have nothing to fear! Come out I promise I won't hurt you!" He said in a sing songy voice.

She was hiding behind a large boulder on the sea floor near a small coral reef.

"Am I not enough anymore?! I'LL DO ANYTHING TO PROVE IT! I'M NOT THE SAME AS BEFORE, YOU DON'T HAVE TO LOOK AFTER ME! " The tone of voice he had scared her even more so now that she was alone.

"I'm not, ... I'm not that stupid clumsy little octopus anymore." He sounded as if he were about to cry, it pulled at her heartstrings a bit and she thought she could convince him to calm down in this state.

"Azulie I never-"

"There you are! " He said with glee and delight in his tone, that never would have made you think he was sad in the first place.

He successfully guilt tripped her into coming out of hiding. Using his tentacles he pulled her by the tail toward him careful to avoid giving her any injuries. He grasped her in his arms feeling himself relax a bit, at the fact he had her in his grasp once again. She felt warm just as she did all those years ago for him.

He clasped her hands together with his. A deranged smile on his face as he stared into the soul of his adorable little angelfish who shivered under such an intense gaze radiating his madness.

"We'll be together again! Just like old times! Except this time I'm all powerful and no one will be able to steal what's mine!"

Masterlist

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Hibiscus Kisses {6}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Lots Of Words, Death

Words: 8.3k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***VERY Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} |

You must have stood at the back of the yacht for a while because the shore and the docks were barely visible at this point. Every minute that ticked by you weighed your options of just diving in and swimming back. Everything you came up with seemed fine to deal with. So what if your hair got wet and you had to go through your four-hour wash and treat routine. So what if you attracted a shark or two, you could swim. So what if everything in your bag got drenched, you could replace them.

 With the number of rebuttals you came up with, you should have jumped in already. The major con that was flashing in your head in neon lettering was you are an adult and not a child who ran away from difficult situations. The sound of laughter had you turning around to see Chris laughing with Harper. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Scoffing, you turned back around and crossed your arms.

 Almost a minute later you felt Chris standing beside you. “If you want to swim back I’m sure you could make it.”

 If looks could kill, the one you gave him should have done it. All you had to do was push him overboard to a watery grave. Chris lifted his hands to show his no threat status and that was when you walked away.

 “All right folks. It’ll be another forty minutes before we arrive at the best fishing spot in all of the islands. It’s my little secret. In the meantime, you have a choice of activities. You can go down below and marine watch, stay on deck and do some pictures and sights, or go into the bubble where you are surrounded by the ocean. It is optimal for fish watching. I’ll let you folks know when we’ve arrived.”

You nodded and walked toward the steps that would lead below deck. You fully intended to get as far away from him as possible. Ignoring the way he turned to you as if he had something to say, you carefully went down the steps and to the back of the yacht. There you found what Harper was referring to. It looked like an actual bubble with two seats. Once you sat down you saw why this was mentioned as the most sought-after experience. You really felt like you were alone under the ocean and not apart from it but one with it.

You watched a school of yellow and black striped fish swim by and a small box popped up to the right of the screen with a still photo of the fish and a few listed facts.

 “Moorish Idol fish. These fish commonly inhabit tropical to subtropical reefs and lagoons. These fish usually travel alone or in small schools. These fish mate for life and adult males show aggression to one another.”

 Your jaw dropped. You hadn’t expected it to be high-tech. In front of you, you grabbed the flipbook and flicked through it to see a variety of sea creatures. The announcement of another fish brought your attention back to the ocean before you and that is where your eyes remained. Creature after creature swam by and up to the glass. Each one was announced and described. As they came up, you took pictures of the pretty ones you liked ready to show them to your family when you returned home.

 You were so wrapped up in fish watching that you didn’t notice that you weren’t alone until it was too late. Chris slipped into the seat beside you, startling you. Your harsh glare landed on him with the force of fifty blades behind it. He wasn’t looking at you though, his eyes were glued to the water and passing reef life.

 “Oh wow, Nemo and Dory,” Chris exclaimed inching closer to the glass.

 That was all it took for your attention to go right back, and lo and behold there were Dory and Nemo lookalikes.

 “Wow.”

 Mirroring Chris’s actions you slid to the edge of the seat as well and touched the glass. They were pretty in animation but that had nothing on real life. The orange and blue were so striking up close.

 “They’re even best friends in real life,” Chris quietly said.

 For the next few minutes neither of you spoke again you were too wrapped up in looking at all the fish that passed by one after the other. When you’d reached a part of the ocean where life was scarce, you sat back and crossed your arms.

 “Can I please explain?”

 You sighed and dropped your head back to rest on the hard headrest, keeping your eyes trained in front of you.

 “I promise I’m not this asshole you have me pegged as in your head.”

 “So you don’t go around trying to charm women out of your panties and in your bed for notches on your bedpost?”

 “God no!”

 You rolled your eyes not believing one word.

 “I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing but good,” Chris replied holding up three fingers.

A smirk teased your lips at the Harry Potter line he’d just repurposed for his own use mixed with the Hunger Games salute. You shook your head unable to ignore how adorkably stupid he was.

 “You know those two have nothing to do with the other, right?”

 Chris slyly smiled and shrugged. “It’s sorta my thing. Sleeping around and I have nothing to do with each other also.”

 You snorted and shook your head. He was smooth.

 “You’re real smooth, I’ll give you that.”

 He sighed and turned his body more to you. “It’s a misunderstanding,” Chris began.

 “Let me stop you there. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time anyone starts off with that, chances are there was no misunderstanding,” you dryly informed.

 “That high? Okay, then I fall in the point one percent.”

 You glared at him again but he didn’t back down, he held your glare but behind his eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity rather than the hostility you had spearing behind yours. When you didn’t object, he opened his mouth to speak again but you looked away.

 “There’s no need.”

 “Why won’t you let me explain?”

 You knew why. If he explained and the explanation seemed plausible and he looked sincere the chances of you believing it would be eighty percent and that was high. You would then continue spending time with him because you did enjoy his company and conversation and eventually sleep with him. Maybe. Letting him explain was step one that would lead to a series of missteps. Then you’d find yourself in a situation come the end of the cruise when both of you went your separate ways. There were too many what-ifs in the air.

 “Ah, I think I know. If you let me explain then this image you have of me being a womanizer who is after fast and quick ass, who would come on a cruise to chase women for a notch would be debunked. If it is debunked, then you’d have to admit that you liked spending time with me and enjoyed yourself. Then you’d have to admit that what might have happened if my phone didn’t ring wouldn’t have been a one-off. You’d have to face the possibility that there might be something here past our physical attraction.”

 Well damn, you thought. For a moment your thoughts betrayed the steely animosity in your eyes and you knew your shock shone through. You quickly looked away from him and tapped into your inner Elsa while watching a school of white fish pass by. You could feel him beside you staring at you as if trying to crack your resolve. You fought against him and kept your breathing slow and steady.

 “You don’t have to tell me I’m right. I know I am and it’s not because I’m a cocky prick. It’s because—,” Chris paused then sighed heavily before he continued. “I liked spending time—with you. Like really liked it and this was before anything physical happened. You’re funny and fun and not phased by this thing called fame that is wrapped around me. You probably don’t understand it, but that’s something refreshing and attractive to me.”

 Unable to resist any longer, you sneakily glanced at him while wondering if any part of what he’d just said was possibly true.  

 “Before I came on this cruise to get away from my life—run away from my life.”

 Your interest piqued. Why was he running away? Didn’t he have everything?

 “My friend, the one you heard on the phone was teasing me about the reason. I didn’t want to give him the real deal so I kept quiet which led him to the conclusion that it had something to do with a woman. It didn’t but he thought it. So the phone call was him stating his opinions again, his way of life. Now I’m not condoning what he said at all but that’s his life. I didn’t come here for any of that and that night wasn’t about that for me.”

 “What was it about?”

 You blurted the question without a thought and once you’d asked, you regretted it. The answer wouldn’t do you any good.

 Sighing, you looked back out to the water. “Don’t answer that.”

 And he didn’t. The silence stretched and your thoughts did as well. You contemplated his explanation and the probability of any of it being true. He had all the reason to lie right now, but the more you thought about it the more you guessed he didn’t need to lie being who he was. He could have just shrugged and put you on the side that wasn’t a fan of his and kept it moving.

 “Look,” Chris said shoving his phone to you with the text exchange between him and someone named Austin was visible.

 “I know what it is to be distrustful of strangers or everyone really and proof means a lot to me. Since the burden of proof is on my side, here it is.”

 You read through the exchange from a little over a week ago and sure enough, his friend Austin was scum. The irrefutable proof showed those sentiments were his and even showed Chris admonishing him for those sentiments and setting him straight. The banter that continued was Austin teasing him about his good boy behaviors. From the texts, you could tell they were close, and you could also tell that Austin was the asshole between them and Chris was possibly a good guy.

 Groaning, you looked away and dropped your head back to the headrest again. You did not need this. Sighing, you closed your eyes and listened to the silence. Several minutes passed by where neither of you spoke and just when you were going to Harper’s voice came in over the ship’s intercoms.

 “We have some dolphin action up here if anyone’s interested.”

 “Dolphins!”

 Your head snapped to Chris hearing the uncharacteristically excited squeal. Did he really just turn into a Powerpuff girl? Chris leapt to his feet and began walking toward the steps leaving you there to wonder just what kind of man he was.

 A few moments later, you emerged from below and walked to the railing to see a dolphin jump out of the water in the distance.

“Oh my god!”

 At that moment you felt your smallness in the world. There were so many other creatures that were bigger and yet humans always thought themselves so superior. It was baffling.

 “It’s not always like this, they must be here to greet you folks,” Harper said as another jumped out and one swam up.

 You dropped down to your knees and peered over the railing and marveled at the aquatic beauty.

 “They’re so friendly.”

 Just then, a dolphin popped up showing its long bottlenose and black eyes and in the same breath, a stream of water came at you drenching you. In your shock, you just sat there while Chris and Harper heartily got their laugh in at your expense. To add insult to injury the dolphin even sounded like it was laughing. Who could be mad though? It was too cute. You looked across the way and saw Chris snapping pictures of you with a wide smile on his face. Being alarmed, snapping at him, or even telling him to delete the pictures would have all been acceptable reactions but you didn’t react in any of those ways. Instead, you brought your attention back to the dolphins in the water. Let him take his pictures, you thought.

 Twenty minutes later you were sitting at the side of the boat with your legs dangling over the edge enjoying the breeze, sun, and tranquility being on the ocean brought. There was something so serene about being in the middle of a giant body of water with creatures of plenty underneath its depths while there was nothing in sight for miles and miles. It was peaceful. The pictures you took of the horizon, the sky, and the water were breathtaking. You knew they’d make great printouts to add to your walls when you returned home. When you realized your battery was running low, you dug into your bag for one of your four fully charged portable chargers and slipped your phone into one of the many waterproof pouches you had your belongings secured inside.

 Your sister liked to make fun of you for how well you prepared for things. When you went out for every day, your purse contained every possible thing you would and could need for the day. You didn’t like being unprepared for whatever you came across and that included something as minor as rain all the way to the major things like abductions. You’d been the butt of many jokes but you didn’t care.

 Glancing to the other side of the yacht, you watched as Chris followed the instruction of Harper as he practiced a variety of sailor’s knots. It didn’t look like he was a novice though. You could tell he’d done it a few times before. Sooner than you could look away, Harper caught you then motioned you over. It would have been rude to ignore him, so you walked over to them and sat before them.

 “Here, try your hand at sailor’s knots,” Chris suggested holding out a length of rope to you.

 “It’s not as easy as it looks,” he followed up as you took it.

 “You look like you’ve done it before.”

 “Once or twice,” he replied.

 You studied the knots surrounding Chris for a few moments then took a stab at it. From the beginning you messed it up but didn’t quit, instead, you undid it and tried again. You didn’t quit easy. That was probably why you were in your current relationship predicament. A few minutes and several failed attempts later, you held up the finished product that looked identical to Chris’s.

 “So you have one of those brains where you can see something and replicate it?”

 You scoffed and shrugged. “Kind of. I just pick some things up quickly.”

 Chris nodded and held out another length of rope and pointed to a different pattern. “Try this one.”

 You knew it was a test. You grabbed the rope and studied the new pattern that was a lot more intricate than the first. Though it was more intricate it took you a shorter amount of time to start. When you held it up for them to see, less time had passed and you hadn’t made one mistake.

 “Wow,” Harper exclaimed before he chuckled.

 “What can I say, I’m pretty amazing,” you joked.

 Both men laughed but didn’t debate the fact.

 “We’re coming up on the cove that gives me the best fish. Of course, we’re catching and releasing, but it won’t dampen the experience,” Harper informed.

 Within a few short minutes, Harper had pulled up to one of the most beautiful coves you’d ever seen. The water was aquamarine crystal blue. It was so crystal like you could see several feet into it. The giant rocks that created a maze had moss growing off the tops of them that were lush green and created a nice contrast of colors. If you could have picked up this view and brought it home with you, you would have. It was that breathtaking.  

 You weren’t the only one thinking it, Chris was a few feet away snapping every picture he could get, only he didn’t look like a tourist. He looked like a professional travel photographer. When he dropped to one of his knees to get a different angle you just leaned against the railing and watched. The sun beaming down on him gave his hair a reddish hue which looked good on him. It even accentuated the freckles peppered along his arms. You remembered what was under that shirt of his at that second. You remembered the muscles, the hair, and the tats. It was an unexpected sight but one that you wouldn’t mind seeing again. Instantly you kissed your teeth and slapped your forehead.

 “Cut it out.”

 “Did you say something?”

 Chris was looking at you with a quizzical expression with his camera still posed up.

 “Nope, nothing.”

 He didn’t look like he believed you, but slowly he went back to snapping his pictures while you tried to create even more distance between you.

 “Get a grip, Ajali. It hasn’t been that long. You’re not affection starved either. Get—a—grip.”

 You took a few slow breathes and focused on the scene before you. You now understood why many people said this island was a top destination for vacations.

 “And we’re ready. You both said you’ve fished before, right?”

 You walked toward Harper’s voice then saw he had fishing rods, buckets, gloves, and all the other supplies lying at his feet.

 “I’ve done some fishing,” Chris offered before both sets of eyes landed on you.

 “Never.”

 “It’s not hard, I promise,” Harper assured bending for the rods. He held one out to Chris and the other to you.

 “Thank you.”

 “I’ll explain everything and its function. If either of you have any questions let me know.”

 Harper walked a few feet away leading the two of you to a shaded portion of the yacht. Once there, he explained everything in detail. He showed the parts of the rod, showed how to put things together, explained their function, and then went on to the different kinds of bait that were available. When he began demonstrating how to hold the rod and posture you paid close attention and imitated what he did. You knew though this was something that would take some getting used to.

 After twenty minutes, the three of you were in your spots ready to cast your rods. You watched Harper cast his first and it looked so fluid. You could tell he’d done this thousand of times. Then you watched Chris and though his movements weren’t as fluid, it looked like he was far from a beginner. You sighed and tried your best. The rod was heavy in your hands and affected your ability to control it and cast it perfectly. Glancing at Harper, he shrugged.

 “Good enough. You got it where it needs to go.”

 A soft chuckle escaped both you and Chris.

 “What kind of catch do you get out here?”

 Harper proceeded to explain the different kinds of fish he’d caught to Chris while you partially zoned them out. It didn’t take long for you to understand why people liked fishing. It was calming. You could leisurely do it while letting your mind drift and worries float away. Thirty minutes later it was your line that tugged first. You yelped then squeaked as you panicked.

 “What do I do?”

 “Reel it in,” Harper said.

 The resistance on the line was giving you a good arm workout. The struggle went back and forth. You doubted this was a baby.

 “This thing is strong.”

 “You got it, put your back into it like Ice Cube,” Chris teased making you narrow your eyes at him. That only made him laugh loudly.

 A few more moments of struggle persisted until you’d yanked the rod backward tucking it out of the water, over your head, and flopping the fish right on the deck.

 “Aaaah, oh my god! I caught a fish!”

 You jumped up and down excited by your success. Forgetting any prior slights you jumped closer to Chris and bumped shoulders with him.

 “I did it!”

 “You did.”

 “Good job. This here is a Barracuda,” Harper announced.

 “Ooooh Barracuda,” you and Chris said in unison like the song. The two of you giggled together before returning your attention to Harper.

 “It’s not an adult, but it’s no baby either. You want a picture?”

 “Yes!”

 You scurried to your bag and pulled out your phone then handed it to Chris before you dropped down to your knees and bent to the fish still flopping on the deck and smiled as you’d just won the lotto. Chris laughed and took the picture a few moments later. After the first few shots, you changed poses and let him take a few more. You watched as Chris’s face went from wide smiles to solemn confusion. Just as you were going to ask if your battery died, Harper spoke.

 “Do you want to do the honors of releasing it?”

 “You mean touch it?”

 Harper nodded and you ardently shook your head. “No thank you. I hear Barracudas like to bite.”

 Harper laughed at you as he effortlessly grabbed the fish by its tail then chucked it back into the ocean.

 “It was just an adolescent.”

 Chris held your phone out then walked back to his rod without a word. Slight confusion washed over you as you glanced at your screen to see one of the pictures he’d just taken, but your battery was fully charged.

 For the next few hours Chris barely spoke to you, but when you glanced over to him, his eyes were always on you before he looked away once yours met his. It was a complete turnaround from before. It shouldn’t have bothered or affect you at all considering the reality of things, but it did bother you a little bit. Once the three of you had had your fill of catch and release the sun was beginning to disappear. Harper caught a huge Mahi Mahi, scaled and fillet it right in front of you, and Chris showing off his impressive knife skills. He then took the fish to prepare what he promised would be the best open ocean fish you’d ever had. You were excited to see the finished product.

 Once Harper had disappeared down below you walked to the cooler, took out two beers, and walked over to Chris. He was sitting toward the back of the yacht watching the rocks in silence. You sat beside him, held out the beer, and waited for him to accept it. When he took it, he wasted no time twisting off the top and taking a mouthful. You sat there in silence looking over the view.

“Who knew a celebrity could fish.”

 “I’m not a celebrity all day every day. I have hobbies and free time.”

 “I take it fishing is a hobby?”

 “When I can get to it. Sometimes I can’t go off the grid to do it.”

 You nodded and tried to picture him at a lake with a rod and bucket of bait catching fish. A soft smile spread across your face before you gulped your beer.

 “What’s one of your hobbies?”

 Taking a deep breath you slowly released it. “Painting.”

 “You’re artistic?”

 “Depends what you call artistic. I can slap some paint on a canvas and call it a day.”

 Chris looked at you for a few moments. “Somehow I find it hard to believe it’s as lowkey as you’re describing. I bet you’re a modern-day Frida Kahlo.”

 You smiled and shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

 Silence spread between you again and the two of you sipped from your bottles. It was a semi-comfortable silence.

 “Are you departing tomorrow or staying on?”

 You wanted to ask why he wanted to know but decided against it. “Staying on.”

 Chris nodded. “Me too.”

 Neither of you spoke again, instead, you watched the sky as the sun slowly began its descent behind the water. When Harper returned, the air filled with such a delicious scent that your belly grumbled loudly.

 “And dinner is served. Harper placed the platter down on the table and you and Chris walked over to it. Your jaw dropped in amazement.

 “What kind of kitchen do you have down there that can produce that?”

 “I’ve had tons of practice.”

 The Mahi Mahi that was alive less than two hours ago was now cooked to perfection and decorated with papaya, and a green salad.

 “Wow, this looks mouthwatering,” Chris complimented.

 “It’s nothing fancy, just some fish with a papaya and seaweed salad.”

 “Seaweed salad? Oh wow. You utilize everything huh.”

 “Absolutely. I can tell you more about using everything you can to not only survive but make good food,” Harper said motioning you both to sit down.

 “No one is serving you here, help yourselves there’s plenty.”

 The three of you dug in taking portions of fish and salad. When you took a bite of the Mahi Mahi your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Oh my god. This is so good.”

 “All it needed was some salt, pepper, and lemon. Sometimes keeping it simple is the best way.”

 Chris moaned and nodded in agreement with you. “Delicious.”

 As the three of you ate, Harper told you all about his travels and time living on his own on the ocean and how he’d learned to survive on little to nothing. It was so interesting to hear his story. From it, you gathered he was determined, creative, meticulous, and persevering. He didn’t let anything stop him and because of that mindset, he said he’d seen a lot of wonderful things and had a beautiful life. Listening to him speak about his loves and losses and how it was just him in the end you couldn’t help but think about your relationships.

 When he began listing off the life lessons he’d learned you made note of each and every one of them. You always thought the stories of the older generations were interesting. While most of their experiences were relatable, a lot of it wasn’t because of the difference in eras. In Harper’s era being a bachelor past twenty-two was seen as taboo, yet that was the life he lived. When he spoke of when he did get married, it was to the one woman he’d loved since he was twenty years old. The woman he’d been stupid about and missed out on two times. From the way he spoke about her, you knew she was his soul mate.

 Glancing to Chris who was sitting diagonally from you, part of you wondered how relatable Harper’s experiences were to him. You thought back to the very few tabloid and gossip stories you’d read about him but nothing jumped out to you. The tabloids didn’t focus on one woman that he was possibly seeing, they didn’t highlight any crazy behaviors with any of them or even highlight breakups. That was part of how you’d pieced him together. The lack of information left for such a wide breadth of possibilities to put together.

 “Take it from me young ones, when you’re walking down a dimly lit street of soft lights, and you happen to find that anomaly among the sea that shines a different light and makes everything else pale in comparison you do whatever it takes to hold on to that. You fight for it and don’t let anything or anyone make you miss out on it. None of us are here for a long time. One day I’ll join my Angie and we’ll be together again. I welcome that day, until then I’ll keep drifting.”

 The three of you sat there in silence, each of you lost in your thoughts and worries. Was Javii that anomaly or was he part of the sea and you’d been mistaken this whole time? When Harper returned to the helm to captain you back toward land you were secluded from the rest of them and still lost in your thoughts. It had been days since you left and you’d figured out nothing. If anything, you’d added more to your plate to think about. This was what you hadn’t wanted to do and that was the reason you chose this option rather than staying in the city.

 You began to wonder again about the person who would be that anomaly that Harper spoke of. Rather than thinking of your experiences with Javii, your irresponsible mind thought of your run-ins with Chris. When you’d seen him in passing before boarding the ship you’d noticed him in the sea of people and amidst every chaotic thing happening around you. Your brain singled him out. It did it again when you saw him in passing topside when you’d met Genevieve and in the lounge club. It was something you hadn’t focused on before but now it was all you could think of.

 “Get a freaking grip, Ajali!”

 You smacked your head and dropped it down hunching over to hug your shins. Suddenly, you felt raindrops and those drops quickly turned into a waterfall.

 “What the--,” you began holding your hands out confused how a downpour like this could just suddenly start.  

 Unexpectedly, the ship lurched hard to the left sending items on the deck toppling over including your beer bottle and the empty ones around it. Thinking quickly, you grabbed the railing to not tumble. Your grip was precarious thanks to the downpour and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. Just as you were losing your grip, that was when the ship lurched again only this time to the right. With no time to grab for the railing, you tumbled over but before you hit the deck arms wrapped around you stabilizing you.

 “I got you.”

 Glancing up, you found Chris with rainwater pouring down his face and beard. He was holding on tightly to one of the metal poles while holding you tightly in his other arm. When the rocking went from deadly to manageable, Chris slowly let you go.

 “Something must be wrong. Let’s go.”

 Both of you took off on the search to find Harper. Every few seconds the rocking of the ship made items fall and roll. Chris was the one to pull you in every which direction to help you avoid the bigger items. When the ship bucked back you both slid back.

 “Aaah, fuck!”

 A sharp slice caught you off guard making you fall to the deck. Before Chris could react the boat rocked again sending you rolling back a few feet. When you slammed into one of the walls you shouted out in pain. Seconds later Chris was bent before you.

 “Are you okay?”

 His eyes quickly scanned your body and found your bleeding foot.

 “Oh god.

 Chris quickly pulled off his tropical printed shirt, ripped it, and began wrapping your foot.

 “I’m sorry I have to do this tight to hopefully slow the bleeding,” Chris informed before he yanked the material, knotting it tightly around your injury. You tried to stifle your groan but it didn’t work. Your shout echoed across the open water and carried it competing with the downpour from the sky.

 “I’m sorry. Ready to keep going? We’re almost there.”

 You nodded and let Chris help you up. With his arm around your waist and yours draped over his shoulder the two of you hurried to the small enclosure where Harper was steering the boat. Every so often thanks to the falling and rolling items you and Chris looked like circus performers, jumping, dodging, and sliding out of harm's way. The way Chris managed to go into protector and alpha mode had you seeing a new side to him. Women did love a man who could take charge.

 When you finally made it you found Harper passed out on the floor.

 “Oh my god!”

 Chris placed you along one of the windows so you could lean against it before he dropped down to his knees to check for a pulse. The longer it took him to turn to you, the more anxious you became.

 “He has a pulse, but it’s thready. Looks like he may have hit his head,” Chris informed before he ripped the while men’s tank he wore at the hem and pressed it to Harper’s forehead.

 On impact, Harper groaned then bolted up.

 “Hey, take it easy,” Chris shouted trying to compete with the loudness of the ocean and the rain.

 “No. Storm. We’re in a storm. We call these pop-ups. They happen all the time,” Harper explained as Chris helped him to his feet.

 “If you knew it was coming--,” you began.

 “I didn’t. No one can predict these and they’re increasingly more dangerous.”

 The yacht whipped as if it were a leash sending all three of you knocking into whatever was closest. Immediately the pain that whisked through you had you screaming. That was the first time you thought you were going to die. All you could feel was pain, all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating. You slowly opened your eyes but couldn’t make anything out through the haziness. You couldn’t pinpoint where the pain in your body was coming from, it felt like it was everywhere.

 “Ajali!”

 Snapping your eyes open you saw Chris’s drenched and concerned face before you. “Open your eyes. Stay with me!”

 It was a forceful command. One that you slowly obeyed. He helped you to a sitting position then turned back to Harper who was trying to stand to look over the built-in equipment of the ship.

 “We’re way off course here. Somehow this storm has put us way off route. It makes no sense.”

 “What does that mean?!”

 “It means we’re drifting and not towards the islands. We’re drifting away.”

 “What!”

 Harper tried to turn the key for the engine but it stalled then sputtered. He tried it again and again but the result was the same.

 “This is bad,” Harper added.

 “What do we do?”

 The ship rocked again but this tilt was so drastically different. It actually went so far on its side that it felt like you were going to capsize.

 “We’re gonna tip over!”

 Chris ran from the small room fighting against gravity’s pull to yank him over. Your first thought was he was leaving you.

 “Hang on tight!”

 Your scream was so loud you doubt you’d ever gone that high before. Terror gripped your heart and your entire life flashed before your eyes. You were certain you were done for. There was no way to make it out of this. You began mumbling but you didn’t know if what you said made any sense. A few seconds later, the ship dropped back into the water allowing you to remain top side up. You felt hands on your body and you opened your eyes to Chris shoving your arms in a bright orange life vest.

 “I could only find one right now so it’s yours.”

 “What—what about you?”

 “I’ll be fine. Hold on tight.”

 He spun around looking at Harper.

 “I have to get below.”

 Harper hurried out without another word and Chris turned back to you.

 “I’m going to help him. Stay here.”

 He made a move to leave and you grabbed his hand pulling him back to you.

 “Don’t leave me.”

 “I’m not. I’m going below with Harper. I’m sure he’ll need my help. I think it’s safer for you up here.”

 You still held tight to his hand fear controlling your movements. Chris’s expression softened before he took a step close to you to hold you at the side of your neck to the base of your skull.

 “I swear to you I won’t leave you, no matter what. We’re in this together. I will be back and we’ll laugh about this one day. For that day to come though we have to get through this and I have to help him down below. You’ll be safe. Hold on tight, stay low.”

 You nodded and took a few breathes trying to psych yourself up.

 “You got this,” Chris said before he pulled away and walked from you.

 You closed your eyes and said a silent prayer hoping for him to come back and that his words weren’t bullshit.

 The seconds seemed to slowly tick by and the minutes went on for lifetimes. Every jolt of the ship leveled you to a whimpering mess. You did just as Chris has instructed—kept low and held on for dear life. You didn’t care how numb your hand became from gripping the cold metal for so long you kept holding on. You didn’t care how cold you got from not only the ocean water but the rain and the strong wind gusts, you remained in your corner shivering refusing to come out. It didn’t matter how much the pain you felt intensified the colder you got you ignored it and kept whispering your silent prayers. You didn’t want to die. Not like this.

 You heard something like a loud crack then the groaning of metal then the ship once again tilted. You screeched and tried to hold yourself to the railing but the further the boat tilted the harder it was to hold on.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 You screamed again and braced yourself to end up in the water under the boat, but instead of it tipping it once again dropped back onto the water’s surface.

 “Oh my god!”

 “Ajali, can you hear me?”

 You whipped your head around trying to find where the voice was coming from without letting go of the railing. You were too scared.

 “Ajali. Can you hear me!”

 On the dashboard, you saw a red light flashing and guessed it was the radio. The only problem was for you to get to it, you’d have to let go and walk over to it. If the yacht tilted again you’d slid your ass out the room and off the boat. It was a risk.

 “Ajali, pick up. We’re down here trying to fix the engine but we need you to turn her on for us. Can you do that?”

 “Fuck!”

 You slowly stood, fighting against your aching joints, bones, and muscles, and stood upright with most of your weight on your uninjured foot. You assessed the distance from where you were to the dashboard and knew slow and steady was the best way but you doubted you had that time. You took a deep breath and took three hops on your good foot toward the dashboard. When there was just one hop left to take the vessel rocked sending you off balance and smack dab into the glass with your face.

 At this point, there was no part of your body that wasn’t in pain. A metallic irony taste filled your mouth and you knew you were bleeding. You had no idea from where though, your face was completely numb.

 “Ajali!?”

 Using the back of one hand, you wiped across your mouth and took another deep breath, and hopped to the dashboard throwing yourself across it and holding it for dear life. You took a few moments to calm yourself then grabbed the walkie.

 “I’m here.”

 You heard Chris exhale as if he was relieved. “Thank god, I thought something happened.”

 “I’m fine,” you lied while trying to wipe away the blood that dripped across the dashboard.

 “Try to turn the engine on.”

 You twisted the designated key all that happened was a long exaggerated sputter then hiss.

 “This time keep it turned don’t release it,” Chris suggested.

 Doing as you were told, you waited and begged the engine to cooperate. When you heard a yell over the walkie you knew it wasn’t good.

 “Damn it! There’s water in the engine. The only way to even begin to work on it is for it to dry out. That’s gonna be impossible during a storm. It’ll just keep flooding. We’re not moving. Damn it!”

 There was a full range of banging over the walkie that only made you panic more.

 “Can everyone not fall apart right now? Please. I’m terrified enough as it is,” you pleaded.

 “Listen to my voice, it’s okay. We’re coming back up. We just have to weather the storm,” Chris said. His voice sounded like he was panicking but was also trying to showcase calm. You heard both.

 Another loud crack echoed but it wasn’t on your end, it was over the walkie.

 “What was that?”

 The sound rang out again and everything went dead silent over the walkie before a loud crash of something breaking echoed out. At that moment the ship lurched again only this time the groan of metal was so loud it made you shake from fear. Garbled speech went in and out over the walkie alarming you.

 “He—hello?”

 The only response you got was the walkie dying.

 “Hello? Hello?” You pressed buttons and turned switches not knowing what any of them did but hoping one of them brought communication back.  Nothing helped though.

 “Chris! Hello? Chris! Answer me goddamn it!”

 You threw the corded walkie and dropped your head down and wailed. There was no hope at all you thought.

 “I’m gonna die.”

 You cried, finally letting out the angst and terror you were feeling. There was nothing positive about your current situation. You were in the middle of the ocean, practically alone while a storm was raging around you. people went missing like this, people died like this. You were suddenly so tired. A wave of water brushed against your feet but you didn’t think anything of it. You almost couldn’t lift your head.

 “Ajali!”

 As you lifted your head you saw Chris racing toward you.

 “We have to get off this ship.”

 “What!”

 “The glass broke. We’re taking in water and sinking—fast!”

 Hearing those words you found the energy to rise. “What do we do? Where’s Harper?”

 “He’s lowering the life raft. Let’s go.”

 Chris wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you along. When you made it down the steps to the deck you saw that it was completely filled with water.

 “Oh my god.”

 “It’s all right, I have you.”

 He must have gotten tired of your hobbling because he scooped you up and hurried along treading through the now calf-level water.

 “You’re freezing cold,” Chris mumbled.

 “What are we gonna do?”

 Chris reached Harper who looked as if he’d been through hell. From one glance you could tell he was hurt.

 “Climb down first,” Harper said to you as Chris put you down.

 You flinched as the saltwater wreaked devastation on your injured foot.

 “I’m scared.”

 “I know. it’s expected, you’re human. I need you to work through that fear though and climb down into the raft,” Chris reasoned.

 You nodded and tried to get over not only the terror but also will your muscles to move through them being near frozen. You tried to move your legs in some coordination to climb over the railing but it was taking a bit of time on your own. Chris stepped closer and helped you to take the first step down the ladder. When your injured foot joined your other one it slipped and sent you down a few of them only stopping when you were able to get a grip on the metal.

 “Are you okay?”

 “I’m okay.”

 You slowly went down the remaining steps until you got to the last one and saw you’d need to jump off the railing to land in the raft. You took a few breathes, hoped that you made it in the raft and not in the ocean, and jumped. Landing on your back you couldn’t relax. It hit you that you were now in a life raft about to drift to god knows where. From above you heard the two men arguing back and forth over who should go next. When you saw Chris was the one climbing down the ladder you knew Harper had won.

 It didn’t take him nearly as long as it took you. A few seconds later he’d jumped in next to you. The strong scent of gas immediately hit you.

 “You smell like gas.”

 Chris smelled himself then his eyes widened and pointed back to the ship. The two of you looked up just in time to see Harper bringing back up the ladder.

 “What’re you doing? Come down!”

 “No can do brother. This here is my ship and a captain always goes down with his ship.”

 Your eyes widened in horror. He couldn’t be serious.

 “That’s not funny Harper. The gas is leaking, there is no saving it. It isn’t worth your life. Come on, there’s time for you to save yourself too,” Chris rebutted.

 “I’m long past saving,” Harper said lifting his shirt to show the large shard of glass that was sticking through his abdomen. It looked like it had gone right through him. You knew that if it were removed the chances of him living were zilch.

 “Oh my god,” you mewled before clamping your hand over your mouth to stifle the wail that followed.

 “Harper--,” Chris began but never finished.

 “I always knew I’d die on this ship and that’s all right. I’m at peace with it. If I get in that raft with you I’d be doing you a disservice. Sharks would be on your tail in no time.”

 Harper flung a pack over the railing into the raft.

 “I’ve already pre-packed all the emergency packs in the raft. They’re in the side compartments as well as underneath the zipped platform of the bottom. These are things you’ll need wherever you wash up.”

 Another bag followed the first and landed on the raft. “This one is some rations. Remember to conserve the water. You can survive without food longer than water.”

 You cried louder while using your hand to muffle as much of the sound as you could.

 “Come on man,” Chris pleaded.

 Four more bags followed including your backpack. By then you’d fully lost it and had ventured into a nervous breakdown.

 “Inside the raft, there is a transponder. I am going to set off the homing beacon on my ship it’ll give search and rescue some idea of where things went wrong. They’ll be able to follow the signal and rescue you no matter where you are.”

 Harper bent forward and groaned. He must have been in so much pain you thought to yourself. On its own, your hand gripped the ripped hem of Chris’s tank and held it tightly. Chris glanced back at you and you saw the same anguish you felt.

 “I’m sorry about this folks, I really am.” He paused and shook his head before he continued. “You have each other though.”

 An explosion shook the vessel and lit up the sky behind Harper.

“That’s my cue. Get outta here. I’ll do my part. Remember live your way, it makes death a peaceful conclusion.”

 With that Harper hobbled away holding the railing.

 “Go!”

 He disappeared from view leaving the two of you sitting in the raft, in the pouring rain heartbroken and terrified. Another explosion erupted and Chris sprang into motion yanking the cord that controlled the motor startup. He yanked it once, then twice until it sparked alive on the third try. You both looked to the ship unsure what to do. The decision had been made for you, there was nothing either of you could do but go.

 Slowly the raft began to drift away from the sinking ship and neither of you could peel your eyes away. Two more explosions boomed and then Harper’s voice echoed out.

 “I’m coming, Angie!”

 “Oh my god,” you whispered dropping your head to the surface of the raft. Your cry was loud and showcased the tragic sadness before you.

 You watched on before another and final grand explosion ripped the ship apart sending parts every which way.

“Fuck!”

 Chris leapt for you throwing his body over yours using himself as a shield to protect you. The sound of flying metal around you only made you scream more and more. Still, Chris didn’t come off of you, he kept his body over yours while maneuvering the rod steering of the raft. After the sound of flying metal subsided and the warmth of fire died down Chris rolled off of you. There was nothing to be seen except the fire from the explosion that was quickly being extinguished as the rest of the ship sank to the depths of the ocean.

 “Oh my god, Harper.”

 “God,” Chris groaned out, dropping his head down. “Rest in peace.”

 There it was. Death. It was staring you right in the face and you feared it hadn’t had its fill quite yet. Your sobs returned and soon they were the only sounds traveling across the water, along with the motor. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes as you both tried to digest everything that had just happened and how everything had gone so wrong.

 “What’re we going to do?”

 It was a question asked just above a whisper. A question that held so much uncertainty, a question that also brought so much fear with it. What were you going to do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @caramara3 @southerngracela @cyntgefel01 @vannahvannahhh @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @kikimiyazaki @toniilaney @areubeingserved @chaos-crusader @thinkxlovexloud​ @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @lo-cheu @squeackygee @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @taylorveebee @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @jesseswartzwelder @90sinspiredgirl  @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @choices97 @jd-now-jq @actorinfluence @chrisgalore @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @motivation-idontknowher​ @builtalongthewaysi @cleothegoldfish @momobaby227 @drsunshine97

@thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @queenbetter @ilovehatembj @briellableu @zaddysqueen7 @melaninhawtie @simplyyamberr  @ashanti-notthesinger @chezdricks @euh-say-what-now @ajspencer1892 @chillavesss @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @songtoyou @designerwriterchic @firedolphin04 @academic-glowup @ramp-it-up @periodtcevans @queenshikongo3 @nova3312 @liquorlaughslove @afraiddreamingandloving @naturalthrone22 @squeackygeecapslut2014 @queen-audsalena @wakanda-inspired @october505 @priya212

@unknownmystery22 @thatcrazymarvelfan @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @cherrystainedlipsbaby @marvelfansworld @fanfictionaffair @kemkem101 @blowmymbackout @almostpurelysmut @blackgurlkillinit @simply-heaven​@impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @renfrewscorner @toni9 @reignandrain @choices97@phreshouttherunwaaayy @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej @zeedaye @queensevansackles @rosey1981 @laketaj24 @mauvecherie​ @minton131 @trillistb @night-of-the-living-shred @chrisevansfanfic @scoop93535 @miss-jackson500 @purplehairgawdess @ollieveracity @maddeningmayhem @what-is-your-plan-today  @dumbchick @maeleeme @cleothegoldfish @tantricevans @evermcfearless @richonne4life @briellableu @amennariee @rynabarnesrogers-reading @partypoison00​ @chrissbabybunny @brwnsugababe @islanddgal @sadishdelray @queenoftheworldisdead @queenshikongo3 @thefuckingluxury @surmya1907 @coolbakeryprunetoad @naturalthrone22 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @starlite-starbrite @offrostandstarlight @thejeneralvicinity @littlepreciousangel @doublesidedscoobysnacks

@imthatbitchsworld @soul–notforsale @toni9 @someone-really-bored @venustrap04 @chrisevansdaddycap @kittykatlow @live-laugh-love-ki @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @fistmetonystark @livinglifeformemyselfandi @crowngold @lost- ssoull @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @perplexed3001 @shar74nett @cltex84 @badbitchhtown @petty-bitch-akira  @k347 @unknownmystery22 @raveviolet @madixii @bernie-k@nina1800 @almosttherebutnot  @smediumsmeatbae @nervousninjatheorist @lo-cheu @creole-mami @acciolove724 @shipatheart @captainchrisstan @ramp-it-up @bforbbgirl @brownskinafro @jhayes6984 @badbo1-evans @ak329 @msblkfire84 @jovanaprime @poshgirl2  @marvelatthis30  @zeelmol @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @youremysuperstar @cleopatra-knowles @littlepreciousangel @alookintohersoul @xsweetdellzx @cxmfort @i-just-like-fanfics @labella420 @storiestoldbyjazz @krrose3 @jennmurawski13 @chezdricks @talley84 @ladydeathboobs @imthewarmpenguininthemiddle @roseasweet @6lackfiction  @earl-aive  @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @msblkfire84 @helenasmirkedno @elisaboricua @maeleeme  @kaiya-ch4n​

***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. Please check that you are taggable..***

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

I really liked reading your fics of Lotor watching movies! Do you think Lotor would like watching Atlantis or lilo and stitch? And who would he watch them with? (Hopefully either Allura or Pidge)

Movie Time with TSL Lotor – Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)

It was a cold and rainy morning on the planet of Olkarion, with an emaciated Galran prince swaddled in blankets on the floor of the paladin’s lounge room. Lotor still wore his night robe and Earth-fashion pajamas, his white hair disheveled from sleep. He yawned. His face pulled tight with his harvesting scars, and his long fangs gleamed in the lamplight. He tiredly scratched at his cheek. “Why did you wake me so early, little one?”

Across the room, a pajama-clad Pidge sat cross-legged, plugging in a few cables. “Because. It’s Saturday.”

The bleary-eyed man blinked. “I know not what a Saturday is.”

She looked up, readjusting her glasses. “It’s the day where people get up to eat cereal and binge-watch cartoons. Like a tradition. My brother and I used to do this all the time. And sometimes my dad too, but he slept in a lot.” Her face twisted in a pout. “And everyone here sleeps in for, like, ever.”

“Even the princess?”

“Even the princess.”

Lotor’s gaze slid to the container of milk, courtesy of Kaltenecker, and then to the sacred box of—he narrowed his gaze curiously—frosted cheerios. Pidge had procured two bowls and two little spoons. He raised his nose and sniffed delicately. The box smelled of sweetness and grains, and saliva swarmed through his mouth in anticipation of food. Beneath the blankets, he scratched at his stomach. Wakefulness began to seep through him at the thought of eating and watching more animated drawings from Earth. “You wish to share in this…tradition with me, then?”

“You were sleeping out here on the couch,” Pidge deadpanned, giving him a look, “so you were gonna share in it no matter what.” A small emotion came over her. She glanced down, returning to connecting the cables. “And my brother’s still off-planet, so you’ll have to do.”

He huffed in amusement. “I am a companion of convenience, then. A replacement brother.”

“Yeah, something like that.” She began to scoot away from the cables, grabbing for her cereal bowl.

Lotor quirked a brow. His blanket shifted around him as he picked up the remaining bowl, mimicking her actions. “What is the topic of today’s entertainment adventure?” He watched curiously as she dumped cereal into her bowl and filled it with milk. And then he followed in kind, hesitantly dipping his spoon into the concoction and biting down.

His slit pupils dilated at the sweet taste.

His fangs crunched down loudly.

Pidge munched more quietly, but her lips stretched as she moved to turn on the movie. “It’s called Atlantis: The Lost Empire.”

Lotor’s elfin ears flicked in interest. “Lost empire?” he repeated curiously, voice muffled by cereal.

As the movie began to play, Pidge’s face brightened. “The whole movie involves an old human legend, about this advanced civilization that sunk under the sea in a sudden cataclysm.”

“Fascinating.” His explorer’s heart lifted in excitement, the sleeping disappearing fully from his eyes. In that moment, it did not matter to him that he was 10,000 years old or watching something that was most assuredly meant for children and families. “Does the legend have any form of validity?”

“Well, being mentioned by Plato, who was a real philosopher—” she pointed to the screen to the opening quote—“has made people search all over for it. But so far, nothing’s proven because there’s a lot of sunken cities on Earth.” She paused. “The movie definitely takes some creative license with ancient human tech, too. Like, ancient humans did not fly in fish ships.”

“I see.” Lotor crunched down happily on the cereal, eyes wide. The screen brightened with the cartoon colors of human animation. Strange, fish-like planes streaked through a blue sky in a panic. Lotor instinctively leaned along with the framing of the movie, as if he were on the ships as well. “Calamity is rather fun to indulge in when it’s not real.”

“I know, right?” Pidge grabbed onto her blanket, wrapping it around her.

And the two remained sitting on the floor of the great lounge, increasingly lost in the tale of Atlantis.

***

It was at some point after Milo Thatch’s introduction that Lotor hesitantly spoke up, his voice catching oddly. “This animation.” He tried again. “I thought you said once that humans were unaware of the planet Altea.”

Pidge pushed up her glasses, still cradling her cereal bowl in her lap. “Yep. Didn’t know about it at all.”

Lotor puzzled at the screen. He hummed, setting his cereal bowl down on his lap. “This Atlantis bears significant similarities to Altean technology and to its people, down to being significantly advanced even ten-thousand years ago.”

The human girl blinked. And then her face twisted in a mischief. “Oh, yeah. It might have more similarities than you think.” She began to waggle her bows. “Including to a certain Altean princess.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Also, you kinda remind me of Milo,” she declared. “Just saying.”

His eyes slit further in consternation, for at that moment, the somewhat bumbling but intelligent character of Milo Thatch was sitting in a water puddle after his museum colleagues rejected his proposal. For good measure, Lotor crunched down on another bite of cereal. “I may enjoy ancient history,” he declared, voice muffled, “but I am not as scrawny as he.”

Pidge poked him hard in his ribs, which still jutted out beneath his sleeping robe. “You’re right. You’re scrawnier.”

Lotor flinched away, shooting her a playfully dark glare. “A temporary consequence of being harvested by the witch. I will reclaim my health, and then you will regret making fun of me so.”

Her face split in a wicked smile. “Nah. You’re definitely Milo. Muscle can’t hide that you’re a nerd.”

He sputtered, waving his cereal spoon. “And what of you? With your books and codes. And cat memes.”

“Oh, I’m a nerd,” she declared. “I just own it proudly.”

The fallen prince ate of his cereal in a light disgruntlement. He watched Milo as the character awkwardly stumbled through meeting a busty blond human woman and then a spastic old man in a bathrobe—his objective always set on discovering the secrets of Atlantis and its sources of power.

Milo Thatch owned a cat too.

Lotor’s face began to heat in realization that he did have a lot in common with this strange human man.

***

By the time the character Milo Thatch met the Princess Kida of Atlantis, a real princess had sleepily trailed into the movie room. Allura’s long, pink robes slipped against the tiles of the halls, her curls a tumble down her shoulders. She yawned and proceeded to stumble her way over to Lotor and Pidge.

With little preamble, she flopped over them.

Pidge barely managed to raise her bowl of frosted cheerios in time, squawking. Lotor froze entirely as Allura’s white curls spilled across his lap—her warm cheek leaning against his leg.

“It’s too early for movies,” the princess whined lightly. She snuggled against him and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, laying across two bodies. “I could hear the sound all the way from my room.” Lotor’s attention split from the animated Princess Kida to the living, breathing princess in his lap. His elfin ears flicked back, and his sharp cheeks heated.

Pidge grumped and tried to shove her off.

The princess did not budge, save for a grump right back.

Lotor had long finished off his bowl of frosted cheerios—leaving not even a drop of milk in his wake. But he carefully pushed the bowl further away, in fear that her hair would end up in it. “We are watching Atlantis: The Lost Empire,” he murmured to her, voice straining. “Would you not like to watch it with us?”

Allura made a noncommittal noise, appearing to fall back asleep, the lines in her shoulders relaxing as she exhaled deeply. The action suggested she had grown to trust him a great deal, for the back of her neck lay bare where her hair had parted.

Lotor swallowed hard.

He turned to look at Pidge, who had sighed and given up trying to push Allura off—instead, she’d moved to accept Allura’s robe as something of a blanket and had rested her arms over the back of the princess’s legs.

Lotor hesitated, knowing that the paladins often piled upon each other as a means of displaying familial affection.

As Milo Thatch moved to swim alongside Princess Kida in search of the Heart of Atlantis, Lotor moved to brush his fingers against the waves of Allura’s curls.

It was a soft, hesitant action—testing the waters of her trust. She made a soft noise in response, her lips sleepily stretching. Her elfin ear flicked lightly as the calloused pads of his fingers ran over it. The action itself meant things to Alteans and Galrans, for only family and lovers touched one’s ears.

The princess nuzzled against him.

His heart skipped. Careful of his claws, he continued to toy with her hair as he turned his attention back to the movie, in which Milo’s very interest in Atlantis had now endangered the Royal Atlantean family.

Lotor bit his lip, feeling a great protectiveness for Allura wash over him.

***

The movie indicated that Atlanteans received their power from a great, sentient crystal—the animation of which was not unlike pure quintessence.

“Do you think,” Lotor asked quietly to Pidge, “that it is possible your Atlantis was real, and that some piece of a quintessence-rich substance—a comet, perhaps—landed upon your Earth?”

Pidge looked over at him, readjusting her glasses in interest. “I suppose it would be possible, but you’re suggesting then that Atlantis is real. And that the power in this movie is real.”

“How do you know it isn’t?”

“What would you do with it?” she challenged right back, raising a brow. “You got plans for that power or something?”

The fallen prince made a face. He was still absentmindedly running his claws through Princess Allura’s hair. “No. I simply fear that concentrated sources of quintessence may have this effect in our world—that it bonds to a host and…overtakes them, somehow.” His white brows knitted together. “As it did my own mother, who has been lost to quintessence, and a demon has taken her place.”

Pidge’s gaze fell to Lotor’s hand, which ran along the tip of Princess Allura’s ear. The princess herself was fully asleep against him, her mouth open with a trail of drool slipping against Lotor’s pajama-clad leg.

The girl’s face curled with a sneaky smile. “You’re worried about Allura? Afraid you’re gonna lose her over something, because you loveher?”

Lotor’s eyes snapped to Pidge, his face heating. “I know she has successfully navigated Oriande, but…” He fell silent with emotion for a time before he could add, “My mother came across something of great power, and it changed her.”

The strain in his voice made Pidge’s mischievous smile falter. She hesitated.

The movie played between them as the animated humans fought to steal Kida, who was bonded to the crystal.

Pidge eventually said, voice softer, “Allura’s really powerful. We’re not gonna lose her over anything.”

Lotor’s throat tightened. He continued to stroke Allura’s hair as she slept against him. “You do not know what I have seen quintessence do to people. Even now, if certain groups knew what all Princess Allura could do, they would seek to control her, just as the evil humans in this cartoon wish to do with the crystal-bonded Kida.”

An emotion came over Pidge. “Well—I mean, we wouldn’t let that happen.”

Within the movie, Milo Thatch had accrued a small band willing to risk their lives to retrieve the princess.

Lotor watched, his heart rising in a pound. “Do tell me that they save her,” he demanded. “I will not watch the rest of this if the Princess Kida dies.”

The human girl gave him a look. “It’s a children’s cartoon. They’re not gonna kill off the princess.”

His breath caught oddly, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. He pulled his hand away from Allura’s hair. “Right, yes. Of course, they wouldn’t.” He breathed out slowly. “That is well.”

“You take these shows too seriously,” Pidge warned. “Half the fun is knowing that it turns out okay, but not knowing how. You just gotta watch.”

“And Princess Kida?” Lotor demanded. “She is not permanently bonded to the crystal by the end, is she?”

Pidge groaned. “Oh my god. Just watch the movie.”

The princess suddenly whined at the loss of Lotor’s touch, her blue eyes cracking open. “No,” she pleaded blearily. She disjointedly reached up, searching for Lotor’s hand. “Keep petting me; it was quite nice.”

He looked down at her, face tightening in a mix of amusement and protectiveness. “Apologies, princess,” he said, moving to run the back of his knuckles against her warm temple. “I will do as you wish.”

She made a happy noise, settling back into sleep.

***

Lotor did not relax until after Milo Thatch had released Princess Kida from her prison, and until after Princess Kida had saved Atlantis and reappeared from out of the crystal’s aura—to land in Milo’s arms.

“You see?” Pidge called, waving her hand at the screen. “What did I tell you?”

Lotor swallowed down emotion. His fingers stilled against Allura’s stiff curls and the warm of her cheek. Despite the fact that he knew the story to be a children’s fairy tale, an odd burn appeared in his eyes. He exhaled shakily. “You were right,” he relented. “The princess lived.”

“Exactly,” Pidge said. For all her youth, she narrowed her eyes with a critical level of awareness. “They saved the princess. Because she had people to fight for her too.”

He raised his vulnerable eyes to her.

An unspoken truth wavered between them—which was that he and the paladins would fight to protect Princess Allura in much the same way, if it ever came to it.

Then, Pidge broke the mood, her expression shifting with a demonic mischief. She waggled her brows. “You love Princess Allura.” She began to shove at Allura’s legs. “Wake up. Lotor wants to declare his undying love for you and tell you that he’ll save you from crystals and evil people and—”

“—Stop it,” he hissed, his cheeks heating. He grabbed for one of the extra pillows that hung off the edge of the couch—and he flung it directly at Pidge. “You gremlin.”

It struck her soundly, but it did not hide her cackle, nor did it stop Princess Allura waking up from all the unsettled movement and raised voices. Her eyes opened a slit. She made a noise of confusion. “What is—going…on?”

She sleepily raised up from Lotor’s lap, her white curls tumbling down her shoulders.

Pidge opened her mouth to respond with a tease, but Lotor smoothly cut in. “Pidge was just putting in another movie,” he said, voice straining. “Weren’t you, Pidge?”

Allura turned to him, still rapidly blinking her eyes. In that moment, she appeared so entirely vulnerable that Lotor struggled against an instinct to gather her into his arms. “Oh, another one?” She yawned. “But I think—I missed all of this one.”

The human girl crawled away, reaching for her watch with her movie collection on it. “Don’t worry,” she called merrily. “I’m sure Lotor wouldn’t mind reenacting it with you one day.”

“I should hope not,” he retorted, his lavender cheeks still in a flame of emotion. “I’d prefer the princess not be in danger at all. And I am not a Milo Thatch.”

“You are definitely a Milo Thatch,” Pidge deadpanned. “Allura, tell him he’s a Milo Thatch. You know he is.”

The sleepy princess only half-understand the plea. She rubbed at her eyes before leaning back against Lotor, resting her heavy cheek against his shoulder, curling up against him. “He’s—my Milo,” she murmured groggily. “Thatch.”

Lotor pressed his lips together, and he damned the skip of his heart.

Allura’s Milo.

He managed a glare at Pidge, but it lacked fire.

The human girl simply smiled back with that demonic mischief before turning away to look for another movie.