#yellow submersible

[anakahaia]

Inktober 2024

Day 19: Ridge

[garthnadermemestash]

titanic taught me about class war

[concerned-artist]

I hope that’s working out for you.

[travsd]

The Sunken Submersibles of Coney Island

I can’t believe it’s taken me ten days to think of this post, but on the other, prior to this was perhaps too soon and too close, and tempers were flying oddly high. For the post is obviously inspired by the recent implosion of the Titan submersible. Like everything of late, this event seemed to tear everyone on social media in two; I found myself in both camps. On the one hand, I am a huge…

[thesassypadawan]

Make Them Blue (Burnt Vader x PetReader) *Blurb*

Summary:  It was No Nut November and your master, who never backs down, took on the challenge…by submersing himself in his bacta tank for the whole month.  However the time has gone and passed, and now he seeks you out…to help him empty his aching, burgeoning sack.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all of the lovely smut. Blowjob, some manhandling, lots of jizzing, overgrown balls, suitless/bacta covered dark daddy, mention of cumflation…and Vader’s big, scarred dick.

Notes: Happy No Nut November all you, lovelies! 🤍💙

Goes with Make Them Blue (Unburnt Vader x ApprenticeReader)!

- “On your knees…”  The command was simple, straightforward.  And although Vader’s voice is muffled slightly by the breathing mask, it leaves no room for argument.  Not that you would dare nor want to do so.

- “Ye-yes, my lord…”  Without hesitating you drop to your knees before him.  Hungry gaze glued to his hard, leaking length…to his bulging, burgeoning sack.  Hands trembling, folded in your lap.  Thighs subtly squeezing, rubbing together.  “How can I-I serve you…”

- Golden eyes widen, then narrow.  “Worship me…”  Cold, dark laughter rumbles within his chest.  “Show how much you have missed…”  Robotic fingers cups, pinch your chin hard in their durasteel grip.  “Craved my cum…”

- Leaning back on his throne.  Head tilted, resting on his fist.  Vader utters his next undeniable, unquestionable order.  “Now get to it, pet…”

- Happily you obey.  Lips pressing, showering his shaft in needy…desperate kisses.  Sucking on the veins that snake, spiral around it.  Greedily, hard enough to make them grow more prominent…turn a lovely shade of purple, a stark contrast compared to his pale skin.

- “Good girl…”  His words come out in a low, euphoric hiss.  A small praise that sends a thrill down your spine, straight to your aching core.  Puddle beginning to form and pool beneath your quivering body.  “What a good little whore…” 

- Doubling your efforts, you’re more than eager to please him.  Tongue kitten licking, lavishing, and moisturizing the scared skin in your saliva.  Cooing, practically purring as you lap up the stray salty, sweet…bitter, medicinal beads.  Tiny hands kneading, fondling his overly swollen, slick balls.  Humming at the warmth that radiates from them.

- “But I know you can do better…”  Invisible digits lace through, tangle in your hair.  Tugging you roughly forward, guiding your mouth to his drooling tip.  Rutting it lazily against, painting your face in a shimmering layer of his essence  “Can you not…”

- Parting your lips to reply, immediately you’re silenced by his head shoving between them.  Strangled, subdued squeaks slipping past his fat cock.  While you struggle, try frantically to take in as much of him as you can.

- “That’s right, let me hear all those pretty noises…”  Thrusting, rolling his hips.  Feral, almost animalistic groan spills out from behind his mask.  “The ones that only I can draw out of…”  When he drives himself deeper, further into your warmth.  Until your nose is flush with his chiseled abdomen, ports prodding and scratching at your forehead.  “Force you to make…”

- Tears sting at your waterline, roll down your cheeks.  Sack slaps heavily at your chin, sound of cum sloshing rings in yours ears.  Can feel him throbbing, twitching against the velvety walls of your throat.  Stomach bloating slightly from the pre that fills it.

- It’s all too much…oh so blissfully much.  You know he’s only moments away from bursting, from transforming you into his own personal cum ballon.  However…

- Abruptly he yanks you off.  Phantom presence pushes you backwards, pries and holds your jaw open.  Keeping you held in place, watching your master, your god pump his dick vigorously.  Twisted, maniacal look shining in his yellow orbs. 

- Letting out guttural moan, he spews forth like a hose.  Thick, milky globs douse and soaking you.  Slopping, washing over in heavy streams…more than what his whole platoon of his men could produce.  Valiantly you try to swallow what you can, nearly choking on the sheer volume.  The remainder drenching, covering you entirely.

- And once he has finally drained, emptied his balls.  Vader relaxes on his throne once more, mechno legs spread wide.  Staring upon, taking in the sight of your cum-soaked form.  Of your juices seeping out from under you, mingling with his own.  A mere drop compared to what is easily the small pound’s worth that now surrounds you.

- “Well done…  However, I advise that you do not challenge me again…  Less you rather drown or, perhaps, pop next time…”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @loverforoldermen, @anakinsbbgirl, @t03soup, , @vaderswifey, @jediavengers, @anakinstwinklebunny, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @xhunnybeeex

@littlelamy, @khoatic-with-no-energy, @raiwpenl, @malinadbbdh, @strokingforyou26, @xspacexwitchx, @em-21, @hearts4sammonroe, @shouldbetakencareof2, @loxbbg, @supersoldatbarnesstuff, @thesilentreaderrrrr, @theoriginalsinner28, @dumb-slut-things, @indigoblues1207, @ald6518, @julxstrawberry, @wh0sl0ttie, @tojis-missing-arm, @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo, @theladykassia, @doblasftcisco, @morguexmvp, @f4iryjinsworld, @nyxiesstuff, @heymamasblog, @justsomeimbicel, @prettywhenicry-777, @femme-is-typing, @maddis0n4, @ttdrake, @melmurkun, @brattyyybbg, @zara13ts, @bigaoibhe2024, @neocitywhore, @ter-luer, @ladyanaschmidt, @sarahflores07,  @death934, @dovepevensie, @adorebambie, @pookiswookis, @icecoldhearts, @elliemariscal, @allievalll, @moonlxght-tyler, @1-racha, @tosterwwannie, @inejghafawifesblog, @carlgrimeswifeofficial, @hellemo666, @pitas-star, @sapphirefrog-blog, @carlgrimeseyepatch, @melonmochi, @coldcupcakedinosaur, @juli007, @skyguy8108, @frogtowne, @jennasco, @nothinspecial1000, @burnthispls666, @dovepevensie, @xxxxxxctu, @abobiwan-kenobi, @kpopperotp12, @no-yes-maybe-so, @whoisgiinaa, @sflame15-blog

[dfortrafalgar]

Watching You In The Morning

Inspired by “Watching You In The Morning” by Waltzin

Law x Fem Reader

Warnings: fluff, kinda poetic? more narrative study than plot, more fluff

Also posted on AO3

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

The rise and fall of your chest was a perfect metronome, as if you were dancing along to the patter of raindrops as they fell against the submersible’s porthole.  In your deep, whimsical slumber, you would never even know of the romantic waltz your very presence exuded upon the man in the bed next to you.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Slow, methodical.  His tattooed fingers dusted fleetingly across the skin of your neck, reaching out to you with reserve, with apprehension, with want.  He felt himself smile, chapped lips tugging ever so slightly at his cheeks at the sight of your serenity, lost in the haze of your dreams.  You were truly beautiful.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

He could watch your breathing forever.  He could die at the crevice of your chest, just to know that you were still inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling.  To know that you were alive, that your flesh was warm with your blood, that your nerves could feel his hands against your skin, was plenty for him.  He forever worshiped the ground you walked on, relishing in your every moment.  Every word you spoke, every blink of your eyes, curve of your smile, every time your perfect hand fit snugly into his like a statue carved from the finest marble.

His calloused fingers traced invisible lines up your neck, towards your jaw, barely touching you enough to feel the slight fuzz of your natural facial hair.  He ghosted across your dimpled skin, absorbing the heat you radiated, memorizing every cell he could touch.  His eyes darted toward your lips, parted ever so slightly to breathe.

In.

Out.

When his slate-gray eyes looked back up toward yours, you were also looking back at him.  You blinked in slow motion, eyes heavy with the waning of your slumber.  You grinned at him, a sight that made the cold man’s heart do pierrouets, fluttering below his ribcage.  Any more unbridled affection towards him would make his chest rip open in a flood of snow-white doves.

With exhaustion on your tongue, voice crackling without being used, you spoke.  “Were you watching me?”

His fingers retraced their steps along your skin, landing at your collarbones where he mimicked the line of your bone.  “How could I not?”

You laughed.  A sound so bright, so warm, almost too warm.  A sound that made his body lighter, his hair stand on end.  A sound that filled his senses with yellow and violet hues, that smelled like peaches and lavender, that engulfed him in a sweet embrace of a hearth’s heat.  Your laugh made the walls he had spent a decade building up crumble with vigor, chips of glass falling to the ground and shattering into irreparable pieces.

Pieces that he was starting to think did not need to be repaired.

He adjusted his body with the motion of you shuffling closer to him, nestling yourself perfectly in the crevice of his shoulder, his arms around your body, secure and safe.  He smelled of cedar and ethanol, a faint tinge of gasoline and the essence of sugar.  You melted like butter in his hold, paralyzed in his arms, a willing prisoner of his presence.  You felt his chest rise and fall with his shallow breaths.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Your own air tickled the skin of his breast, tiny, gentle feathers in a spring breeze.  Your fingers crawled along his side before looping your arm under his and pulling your body ever closer.  Oh how you wished you could break the universe for just one moment, to part his atoms and truly become one with him.  Even just a zeptosecond would be enough.

“If you keep thinking this hard, you might blow a fuse.”  His low voice rumbled against your head.

“How did you know?” you responded, voice light and airy, lovestruck and dumb.

He released a chuckle from his throat.  “I just had a feeling.”

Silence once again fell over the two of you.  Save for the continuous rain that fell, a faded noise in the backdrop of the aura he surrounded you with.  Washing away all worries, all fears.

“Can we stay like this forever?”

The question surprised you.  It wasn’t like him to ask such silly, menial queries.  Ever the pessimist, ever the analytical scientist.  He lived for the truth of the world and the facts of life.  He had you for the optimism and the joy for life that he lacked, a perfect balance.  The Yang to his Yin.

You simply hummed.  Tilting your head up to meet his eyes, you felt your blood rush to your face like a flame.  “Forever.”

His arms squeezed you once, then twice.  He sighed, melancholy.  The rain continued to fall, the vessel continued to sway monotonously on the surface of the vast, open ocean, but you stayed anchored to his bed, to his sheets, in his unmoving arms.

He smiled again.  “Thank you.”

No response was followed, and no response was needed.  Your breaths fanning against his skin were more than enough.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

[mbari-blog]

Getting all the fall feels from our newest Deep RelaxOcean video 🍁

To celebrate the upcoming autumn equinox, we’re sharing some of the animals of the deep whose shades evoke the fall colors we see on land. From golden yellow sponges and corals to ochre orange-hued crabs and anemones to crimson jellies and worms, the deep sea is home to a dazzling diversity of life. We never know what we’ll see on a dive into the depths. Our scientists, engineers, and submersible pilots are constantly amazed by the beauty of the animals and habitats we encounter. The trove of video filmed by MBARI’s underwater robots helps scientists document the stunning variety of life that dwells in the ocean’s depths so we can better understand humanity’s connection to the deep sea.⁠ ⁠ Studying the amazing biodiversity of animals in the deep sea is increasingly critical. Overfishing, pollution, and climate change all threaten ocean health. Help us spread the word about protecting the important but rarely-seen animals and habitats deep below the ocean’s surface.⁠

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Clap for the Indian Flapshell Turtle!

The Indian flapshell turtle, also known as Lissemys punctata is a species of softshell turtle found throughout India, as well as Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, Sri Lanka, and Myanmar. It prefers quiet, stagnant freshwater and muddy bottoms, and is most common in slow moving river and streams, marshes, ponds, lakes, and reservoirs. However, this species is also able to tolerate salt water to some degree, and therefore may also be occasionally found in salt marshes and estuaries.

L. punctata gets its common name from the leathery flaps of skin attached to its underbelly, which covers the limbs when they are drawn in and helps individuals retain moisture during the dry season. Female Indian flapshells are larger than males, with a maximum shell length of 35 cm (13 in) and a weight of up to 800 g (28.2 oz), while males reach a maximum of only 23 cm (9 in) and 550 g (19.4 oz). There are three subspecies of the Indian flapshell turtle which may be distinguished by the pattern on their shells. The nominal species, L. p. punctata and L. p. vittata both have smooth, dark brown or olive green shells, while L. p. andersoni has bright yellow spots along the head and back. The underbellies of all subspecies are typically white or pale yellow.

During the wet season, Indian flapshell turtles spend most of their time foraging for food. Their drab colouring allows them to hide easily along muddy bottoms or dense vegetation. L. punctata are opportunistic omnivores, meaning they will eat just about anything that they can find. They are known to feed on a variety of items, including aquatic vegetation, fish, shrimp, snails, crustaceans, mollusks, small mammals and amphibians, and carrion. Adults are predated upon by crocodiles; in the dry season, they may also be opportunistically predated upon by vultures, crows, and wild pigs, as this is when adults are more likely to either burrow into the mud to wait for rain, or move overland in search of water.

Nesting for L. punctata typically occurs at the start of the wet season and continues from June to November. Adult males seek out females and court them by stroking her shell with his flippers. If she is receptive, the pair mirror each other and bob heads before copulation. Afterwards, the female digs a nest close to the edge of the water and lays anywhere from 2-16 eggs. She may lay up to three clutches over the course of the wet season. Incubation typically takes 200-300 days, although some clutches may take up to 400 days to hatch.

Indian flapshell eggs are highly resistant to flooding, and may survive up to 24 hours of submersion. After hatching, the young are completely independent; survival is therefore quite low. Those that make it to adulthood begin reproducing at 2-3 years old, and may live to be up to 20 years.

Conservation status: The IUCN currently lists the Indian flapshell turtle as Least Concern, although recent studies have recommended the species be upgraded to Vulnerable. They are primarily threatened by hunting for meat and medicinal value, as well as poaching for the pet trade. Secondary threats include habitat loss or degredation and road moralities.

Want to request some art or uncharismatic facts? Just send me proof of donation of any amount to any of the fundraisers on this list, or a Palestinian organization of your choice!

Photos

Harikrishnan S

avrajjal via iNaturalist

makarandsaraf via iNaturalist

L. Shyamal

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Who would like to live in the world's largest Doomsday Bunker Community located in Edgemont, ND. (I don't see any neighbors, but there are supposed to be 100s of homes. I guess they're all underground.) This is Lot E 103 Bunker Rd. (not very original). Notice the big E - 103 over the door, so visitors will easily find you. Price for the 1945 bunker is $69,900.

The front door (there is a rear exit somewhere). The Black Hills Army Base was originally built by the Army Corps of Engineers as a fortress to store bombs and munitions, from 1942 to 1967, when the base was completely retired.

I don't know what this is. Maybe some sort of ventilation?

It looks like some of the dirt has sloughed off the building. There're some mounds of dirt to cover it back up.

It's pretty clean inside. All bunkers feature a standard 26.5 foot interior floor width, with lengths of 60 feet and 80 feet, each with a 12.5 foot high ceiling to the top of the interior arch.

This bunker has flooring in place, water hookup and air filtration/blast valves.

There's some sort of trench dug on the right. Each bunker includes a concrete floor and steel blast door, that seals to stop any water, air or gas permeation; air and exhaust ventilation shafts, and a secondary emergency exit.

Lease is owned by Vivos XPoint. (The community organization.) Potential buyer will need to make application and Owner must approve all purchases and leases. They're pretty choosy about who buys them.

The Vivos Community means business.

Vivos says: Away from Riots, Violence, Targets and Submersion Zones. The yellow circles represent Anarchy Zones. This former military base is no longer a target, having been retired since 1967.

It's difficult to capture the enormous scale of Vivos xPoint, nearly 3/4 of the size of Manhattan, NYC. Standing at one end of the complex, you cannot see the furthest bunkers on the horizon.

Massive. Safe. Secure. Isolated.

This is what it could look like.

You must visit the Vivos website. I was fascinated. They have a survival gear shop and you also would want to apply for membership in Vivos.

[shadyufo]

Cryptids & Creatures of Folklore Drawtober Day 26 — Beebe's Abyssal Fishes

In the early 1930s, marine biologist William Beebe and engineer Otis Barton designed and built the bathysphere. Beebe would go on to use this spherical submersible for 35 trips to explore and document what had previously been unreachable depths of the sea and observe its residents in their natural habitat for the first time. He made these dives off the coast of Bermuda and would reach depths of over 3000 feet.

During these trips, Beebe observed and described a few fish which have not been seen since. These fish were:

The Pallid Sailfin — torpedo-shaped fish approx. 2 ft long with a diminutive tail and large fins. Beebe said this fish was a sickly pale color.

The Abyssal Rainbow Gar — small gar-like fish with bright crimson heads, deep blue bellies, and yellow tails. Only four inches long. Beebe witnessed a school of four of these fish swimming vertically.

Five-Lined Constellation Fish — a round fish with five rows of bright yellow bioluminescent markings surrounded by smaller purple markings.

Bathysphaera or the Giant Dragonfish — a 6 ft long dragonfish with a row of bright bioluminescent markings down its sides. It had two long tendrils with glowing bioluminescent orbs on the ends.

Three-Starred Anglerfish — an anglerfish with three tendrils ending in bioluminescent lures sprouting from its head.

[nautilusgays]

TKLUTS LEGO PLAN!

Decided I'm gonna start building a Tkluts inspired Lego build! I'm gonna try and make a semi submersed top of Nautilus one on my blue base, and then maybe a saloon inspired one.

I was at a Lego fair today and I'm starting to amass some bits I know I don't have. Then when I get back to my uni place where I have the rest of my Lego I'll see if I can make stuff!

Stuff for it I got today:

Old fashioned diving suit! - I'm gonna need to get at least two more so all three have one (so cool that you can see their faces in it!!!) but might try for two extras for crew OCs.

Pierre's head and two outfits - I was SO EXCITED about the head! It's perfect! (the hair I already have but I have other hair pieces in my big Lego box that I'm gonna try out).

Potential Nemo body - big captain vibes ofc! I'll probably get Nemo two bodies? Idk Ill see once I get him a head (which will deffo be online lol cause that's where I get most of my brown heads since they seem to be the rarest skin tone ones).

Potential Conseil outfits - he's a well dressed boy but I'll need to see the figure assembled and next to the other two to see the vibe.

SQUID -need I say more

I got what was going to be Ned Land's body but I didn't really see the yellow slither at the top and it really bugs me so I'll either find a cravat or different torso.

THE HEAD THO I just happened to find in the Lego sorting box* in my mum's room and I was like THIS IS MINE NOW!

IM SO EXCITED! I especially love having the mini figures made cause I can put them in other Lego sets! Like the the trio chilling in a garden or a Nemonnax cafe date!

*she's thinking if she sorts them she can rebuilt the old sets to sell but I'm extremely doubtful a) that she'll do it (it's been 3 years) and b) that any of the sets are complete since several of them moved country

[nanabrainrot]

Perversion, Submersion [Pervert!Roman Roy]

Roman has been avoiding you or you've been avoiding Roman, he isn't sure and neither are you. The opportunity strikes in an elevator: explain yourself.

Warnings are in place for parts 1 and 2! This is just fluffy and open to interpretation - if you want continuations or drabbles of them, feel free to request more of Roman and this reader after this.

Part I | Part II | You are reading part 3.

WC: 2192

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

It’s not unexpected but it is inconvenient when he finds himself in this position: stuck between the mirrors and four corners with you of all people. The brewing storm outside and unappealing lengthy trek down the numerous flights of stairs made this situation inevitable but undeniably appealing in the sheer amount of coincidences that had to transpire to corner you in the elevator with him.

Since your very brief and uncomfortably soothing sexual encounter with Roman, the churning in his belly was less associated with being called a perverse piece of shit but most days his mind fell back to the velvety whispers into the tip of his head as you crooned to him with sweet words. He had never heard such sincere things said to him, even in his wildest dreams there was a looming sense of craving for confirmation that he was despicable. The way his veins nowhere near his dick throbbed at your sweet words were much less bothering him but rather haunting him.

Your gaze is cold and it feels like it sees through him like mesh; you can touch it but it’s so thin and barely there it should barely carry the name ‘mesh.’ A halo of yellow light bathes you from overhead as you sigh and sit on the floor, kicking off your heels as you stretch your legs against the tiles of the elevator. A pair of kitten heels sit neatly beside you as you look up at him expectantly. The hair falling in your face from the tiring work day of running here and there and struggling to juggle a phone with the lunches of higher ups. A slight stain of coffee on your chest from the morning is dry (and it gives him a reason to look at your tits).

“What’re you lookin’ at? My dashing good looks?” Roman scoffs in that haughty tone though it barely disguises the little crack in his voice at your severe gaze. An expression devoid of smiles nor the tender coos you had last week. The seven days that passed were full of your cold and even voice like it was before you let him suckle at your tit; he felt much less like the context of it was sexual in this moment given how stern and maternal you looked at the moment even from a position below him from the ground.

“You’re not going to sit? I pressed the emergency button but I’m not sure when anyone will come. The storm should blow over soon enough though. It’s almost 7 and forecast said the chance of rain at 8 is only 40%,” you start nonchalantly, rolling your ankles girlishly in your stockings.

“40% is like, almost half, so what do mean blow over soon? And if I sit I bet my ass that this thing will rip my trousers in two,” he starts, “unless you’re into that.”

“Oh it’s my wildest dream,” you chuckle, “just sit, Roman. It won’t kill you.”

The concept of eye contact is grating on the sulci and gyri on his brain. It feels less like an invitation and more like a threat. He preferred not being so level with you, no, he much rather preferred where he was all settled in your chest last week. He’d been craving warmth that wasn’t sexual despite the way he spilled into his hand so quickly like man fresh out o the jailhouse with his first broad in however many rotations around the sun.

But it’s less intimidating at this level; the way your backs press against the glass adjacent to each other under the dim light. Yet nonetheless, words don’t find his ears nor do they press against his teethless: feeling speechless is not a feeling that frequents Roman and whenever it does come up it feels unnatural. Because it is.

The first noise to meet his ears is your yawn, your mouth opening big and wide in a silent huff of air that showed you were tired. The corporate American lifestyle must’ve been tiring for people beneath his level but that’s your fucking problem: your face never really showed tire and the confusion of you finally finding expressions in private with him only served to complicate whatever weird feeling was left squirming in his throat and belly. It left him like feeling halfway to throwing up, like a a worm was wriggling around his uvula, and the breath seemed to catch in the esophagus less like being “speechless” and more like he was choking on a favorite food.

The first touch he feels is your head on his shoulder. The reflective metallic surface of the elevator doors depict a renaissance scene: your beautiful hair pressed against his neck as your tired face was relaxed into the fabric of his suit. The first scene he smells is your breath warmed the air by him enough to let him know you were chewing some sweet gum like a child earlier instead of peppermint like any other woman your age? What was it? Hubba bubba? The thick blocks of gum that felt like bricks of sludge?

“The fuck does your breath smell like that for?” he started, desperate to not be construed as vulnerable or wanton for you. The way his voice cracked weakly and rose an octave at the question only served to expose the vulnerability that he hated.

“It’s gum.”

“Gum smells like gum, mint ‘n shit. Your breath smells like you ate unicorn shit.”

“’S hubba bubba. I like the tape version more than the block, the one that’s sour and blue. Do you know what that is or is it too far from your diet of caviar and escargot?”

“Hardy har har. I know what the fuck hubba fuckin’ bubba is.”

“Explain what it is.”

“Why would I waste the limited air of this up and down box on explaining something to you already know? It’s gum that smells like unicorn shit.”

Your brows furrow as you pull back from his shoulder to do at him. Stern, but not cold like that usual face you always seemed to make.

“Don’t say that.”

“Say what? Is unicorn shit that offensive –“

“That you’re wasting air.”

His face falls a bit, not at all at once, but the way his eyes falter and the muscles at his mouth seem to weaken betrays him: you struck a nerve.

“Do you know what a joke is? Just a quick question.”

“Didn’t like that joke.”

“I’ll write that down that it isn’t a crowd favorite.”

“A comedian should know his crowd.”

“And how am I supposed to know you?”

“Cause you sucked my tits?”

“Then act like it.”

Your face scrunches, then relaxes, as it does. The stone look on your face is not past the little glassy look that covers your eyes: guilt. “I thought you didn’t want me to,” you admitted with reluctance, drawing your knees to your chest to rest your chin on it (creating a reflection of your lewd panties creased in the folds of your pussy in the elevator’s metallic shine). He scoffs, rolling his eyes at her; it’s like an excuse. Trying to create a gap between them broader than it already was. Sex was one thing; a one night stand sometimes happens but between his coworker of years? As she cooed sweetly, stroked his hair, pressed kisses to his scalp; his life had been a long stretch of financial comforts overshadowed by emotional neglect if not abuse. Shit, he only really thought he knew how to get off if there was an element of humiliation involved. To kiss and coo at him while he fisted his dick wasn’t an easy task. He had people see his dick through images, but the confidence that bloomed while your acrylic nails glided soothing circles into his skin made it not a moment in his head but in his groin. A feeling that was rare without a long, long relationship of pushing and pulling prior.

Why would you think he wouldn’t want you to? He sighs, deep and hefty, before muttering, “I’m not a slut, I don’t show everyone my dick even if HR says different. I wouldn’t let you see my dick if I thought ‘hey let’s ignore each other Monday I love the awkward emotional blue balls-‘”

“Emotional? Why are you using that word? You’re my higher up; I just didn’t take you for a guy that wants… anything consistent with… with…” your face scrunches more, an obvious habit you had when you were thinking hard, raking through the words on the tip of your tongue, “your secretary. Not even to be a porno cliché, but just… you’re a rich kid and I just work with you.”

You look pretty like this, the dim light over your head as the world’s winds whirred outside the tower. It had slowed to a drizzle yet you were still stuck there. He hated the intimacy of this; your glassy eyes peering over your knees at him. The way you plucked brows furrowed then unknit, the muscles of your t-zone thick with worry. Trying to make sense or trying to make yourself make sense.

“Fuck does that matter? I still sucked your tits,” Roman shrugs.

“Cause I don’t want to get my hopes up, Roman,” you say. The words are harsher than you intended, but they were honest work. Barren and vulnerable. How long you had been his subordinate was just a number, there was no concrete number behind when the attraction started. He wasn’t a classic man’s man, but there was something compelling. He was forever playful, never truly serious, and it was a breath of fresh air from the fear you initially felt when you graduated college; the endless certifications, exams, networking, and connections that you always tended to get a big girl job that still made you less than you would ever see that Roman had always had access to. The difference between a big boy and big girl job were world’s away, but the difference in upbringing never failed to make your stomach drop. Plenty of beautiful woman would love to sleep with a rich man; you had been told one thing over and over again in your youth that stuck like glue: Never love a man for what he has, but love him for who he is. The recessions, the stress, the endless hours alone at home, the tired eyes, and secondhand clothes were just objects; but you had a beautiful example of what life was like when you chose the same person over and over again from the beginning. The illusion of choice gone with the wind by the reality of what is already there; the grass never seemed greener to mom and pop.

In short: you wanted to only marry once, fuck one man, kiss one man, know one man. To love a rich man was to love a temporary one. He could go at any time for the younger piece of ass when father time made your collagen levels run low. When your hair got gray.

When Roman’s bank went dry, who would stay?

“Hope up? What? You like me or somethin’?” he laughs, that hyena laugh. The one that always caught the attention in the wrong way, but it feels like mockery. But to him, you’re mocking him. What is there to love about him? Even the people in his family seemed to feel a tie to him my obligation of bloodline and the shared experience Logan left with them. You had nothing to tie you to him other than getting his coffee and the fact he sucked your tits once.

“It isn’t funny,” you reply dryly, “I think I do, Roman.”

It isn’t funny. The weird way his stomach lurches like he’ll throw up. Like the bile in his belly comes up immediately. The way the thunder booms a little louder.

“Then like me. I already sucked your tits,” he forces a smile but the way his eyes look gaunt is worrying (mostly because he was suppressing the need to vomit in an enclosed space or even worse, on your lap).

“I don’t wanna like you if you don’t like me.”

“Then I’ll like you.”

“You can’t just say you’ll like me, Roman.”

“Then I liked you and I like you. I think you’re a pretty and nice lady with beautiful tits and I don’t care if you think I’m a weird boss because I’m Logan’s kid. Just try it. If you’ve tried a gross food before, you can try something with me.” You grin, but it’s a obscured by your knees in the way.

Impish, skittish, your eyes creasing by the way your smile reaches them.

“You’re not a gross food.”

“I’m a gross guy though.”

“I don’t think so.”

“What do you know?”

“I know I think you’re neat.”

His smile reaches his eyes next.

“I think you’re cute. Tell me more about you and I’ll consider the neat part.”

The elevator moves, a low hum, descending gently until it hits the first floor and the glassy corporate towers had never felt more comfortable.

[spectralsleuth]

Candling

(A short preview for the post-movie/apocalypse fix-it fic I'm working on! As a consolation to all the 'Portal Panic' readers, since I'm putting it on hiatus! Love all you guys, I hope you end up enjoying what I come up with. This is WIP, obviously. The working title is 'FLIPSIDE'.)

“Leo, I swear to Gram-Gram, if you do not sit your ass down I will sit it down for you.” Raph threatened, from his seat at Donnie’s medical table. He wasn’t wearing anything but his patchwork canvas pants, red haramaki, and tattered mask. Sitting as he was, tail curled down and off of the industrial strength steel, Raph’s slightly stooped head still almost brushed against the vaulted ceiling, which was studded with rods of sunny yellow chemical lights and inactive bulbs of emergency lighting.

The lab stretched out an impressive distance, as long as a football field and shaped like the inside of a military hangar with its peaked roof, and thickly cabled bridge cranes stretching wall to wall down the length like the ribs of some dying carcass. Electricity hummed everywhere, even within the solid rock walls to either side, which were honeycombed with outgoing connections and wrist-thick cables going to every corner and cranny of the resistance base.

Donnie himself mostly used the front half of the lab, only retreating to the further wide open shop spaces when things needed to be fabricated, or repaired in one whole mass. Right now the back half of the lab was mostly empty- outside of a rack of plant growing projects thriving quietly under the light of a massive UV lamp, and a semi submersible all terrain vehicle that had been made useless by the drying of the oceans four weeks and two battles ago.

Leo held his hands up defensively at Raph’s growling, finally taking a seat on one of the rolling chairs, his feet tapping restlessly from the back heel all the way up to the knee, in an unreadable rhythm. “Yeesh, sorry. I’m just uh.” He scratched under his mask, over one of the double red stripes lining one cheek. “Nervous? I guess?”

“We’re all nervous.” Raph grumbled, shifting to pull a knee up, and brace himself with one heavily taloned hand. “But you pacing and making a mess of Donnie’s lab ain’t gonna help matters any. You’d think one a you idiots was the one having an egg.”

Mikey was hovering peaceably over their heads, swimming as gracefully through the air as any fish through water. It wasn’t always possible for him to fly so easily; but the thought of the day ahead, and the appointment they were all meeting for, had Mikey’s thoughts so happy and light that floating was easier than not at the moment. Leo was half tempted to tie a string to his ankle, and keep him from finding and floating his way up through the exhaust pipes and to the apocalypse-torn surface.

“Raph, one more time. Please.” Mikey asked sweetly, upside down and cape dangling enough that Raph was trying to snort it away from his face in annoyance, like a bull with a fly. “Just let me touch it, I know I can get something from it. My little nibling wants to tell me, we don’t need Donnie’s nasty ole camera-”

“Shut it Mikey; and keep your glowing little paws to yourself.” Raph pushed Mikey away with a hand that engulfed his entire head, and sent him bobbing away across the lab, affront written across his upside down face.

Mikey rumbled indignantly, like a small dog with a bone- and as he did, April, Donnie, and Casey entered the lab.

“WHERE’S MY SON?” Casey demanded, stomping in and giving Mikey’s head a shove as well. It was forceful enough to send him gently spinning back towards his brothers, cape dangling and tilting slightly on his axis.

“Ya don’t know it’s gonna be a boy.” Raph protested, as Leo rolled his chair quickly out of Casey’s way. “It could be a girl! Oh. A little girl turtle…” Raph started to look dewy eyed at the thought, and Casey made a retching noise.

“Don’t be gross! A mother always knows.” She said loftily, moving between Raph’s knees to crowd into the space there. There was plenty of room- even with the egg cradled carefully in one hand, balanced between his knees like a precious jewel, Raph could have fit five more Casey’s in the space she occupied.

Casey leaned up on her top toes and Raph obligingly tilted down to meet her, pressing a toothy kiss to her mouth.

“Now let me see him before one of these morons drops him.”

“Scoff. If you’re that worried about someone dropping it you should have let me make the prosthesis like I planned-“

“You’re not putting my baby in a robot, Donnie.” Raph warned easily, as Casey bundled the egg into her arms with feral eagerness. It was about eight inches across, perfectly round, and colored a delicate creamy yellow that was the same shade as the pinstripe lines on Leo’s throat and chin.

Leo was insufferable about it, even if he was too scared to hold the egg.

[archive-of-artprompts]

♦ Send in a Number+Character/s, and I'll draw/write them with that symbolism ♦

symbolism tropes from tvtropes 📺

Arc Symbol - The overarching symbol, appears over and over again, often with no explanation for what it means until much later.

Snow Globe of Innocence - The snow globe depicts a time or place of lost joy, serenity, or innocence.

Symbol Motif Clothing - A character's clothing regularly represents something important about them.

Dying Candle - When a character dies, so does the light.

Symbolically Broken Object - A broken object represents the death of a person or destruction of a relationship.

Heart of the Matter - Something so vital, it is likened to a living heart.

Sweets of Temptation - Candy, cake, and other sweet food is used as symbolism for temptation and hidden danger.

Tempting Apple - Apples symbolize temptation and desire.

Separated by the Wall - A physical barrier to represent an emotional one.

Symbolic Distance - Physical distance signifies an emotional separation or yearning between characters.

The Flame of Life - Fire used to symbolize life and vitality.

Symbolic Blood - It's not blood… technically.

Elemental Eye Colors - Eye color indicates what Elemental Powers a person uses using Color-Coded Elements.

Eye Colour Change - Eyes change color in response to a significant change.

Red Eyes, Take Warning - Red eyes are unnatural and red is a color with a mixed reputation, making red eyes dangerous.

Yellow Eyes of Sneakiness - A character with yellow eyes is thought to have a sneaky and conniving nature.

Supernatural Gold Eyes - Supernatural people with yellow and gold-colored eyes.

Black Eyes of Crazy - A character's eye sclera is black, which shows their insanity.

Black Eyes of Evil - A character's villainy is signified by the blackness of their eyes.

Eye Lights Out - The eyes of a robotic or magical being with Glowing Eyes fade when they die.

Elemental Hair Colors - A character's hair color matches the Elemental Powers they use, fitting a Color-Coded Elements scheme.

Environmental Symbolism - The setting represents the mood.

Scenery-Based Societal Barometer - A single piece of scenery represents the health of a setting.

Red Sky, Take Warning - The sky being red is a sign of impending danger.

Freud Was Right - Whatever it is, for a character it represents sex.

Butterfly of Death and Rebirth - Because of their famous metamorphosis, butterflies are used to symbolize life and death.

Healing Serpent - Snakes and snake-like entities used to symbolize the healing arts.

Reptiles Are Abhorrent - Reptiles are associated with villainy.

Serpent of Immortality - Snakes symbolize immortality, regeneration and rebirth.

Caged Bird Metaphor - A character is associated with a caged bird to symbolize their sense of confinement and longing for freedom.

Swan Boats - Riding swans, having swan-shaped boats or boats pulled by swans represents love, romance, leisure or art.

Technicolor Toxin - Fictional poison is vividly colored.

Handshake of Doom - A handshake indicating a Deal with the Devil or similar unwise alliance.

Madonna Archetype - She's the Virgin Mary.

Mental Monster - Represents inner struggles.

Scary Symbolic Shapeshifting - A non-shapeshifter symbolically transforms to illustrate their unpleasant nature.

Symbolic Serene Submersion - Floating motionless underwater represents the character's internal state.

Crucified Hero Shot - A character makes a grave sacrifice and ends up with their body positioned as though it were crucified.

Symbolic Mutilation - A missing body part or injury reveals something about the character.

Dying for Symbolism - Death of a character is death of hope.

Ending by Ascending - A character going up a staircase or ladder symbolizes rebirth, rest or new adventures.

[medusapelagia]

26 AU-gust: Lighthouse - Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3, Part 4

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: Monsters, mermaid torture, blood and violence, mention of mermaid amputation, unconventional mermaid AU WC: 3472

This time he wakes up in a white room with a big tank.

Inside the tank, Eddie is looking at him with his big eyes with no lids.

“Are you ok?” he asks, getting closer.

Ok. The boy replies with his vibrations.

“I thought… I thought they were going to kill you.” 

Eddie shakes his head.

Steve gets up and gets closer to the tank. It looks like a big aquarium, there are some fake plants on the ground and even what looks like a little pirate treasure.

It’s the first time that Steve can see Eddie properly in his true form.

His eel’s tale is drawing little waves on the sand while it moves. It’s dark green with some yellow dots. His eyes look even bigger in the water, always a little bit too far on the side, and even if they have no lids they seem sad, and his skin it’s not white, as he thought, but a pale green.

Eddie’s webbed hand touches the glass between the two of them and Steve puts his hand on Eddie’s.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispers, lowering his eyes.

Eddie doesn’t reply, he keeps looking at him with his sad eyes and then he suddenly goes hiding behind a rock.

Steve sees the reflection of Dr. Brenner and other doctors who are getting into the room and he turns abruptly.

“What do you want? Let him go!” he growls, trying to shield the creature from their vision.

One of the doctors says something that he can’t hear, and the room turns black and they turn on a little projector, then the woman takes a transparent page and starts to write and on the wall appear some words in a tidy calligraphy.

‘How are you feeling, Steve?’

He looks at them surprised. No one is speaking anymore.

“What the fuck does it mean?” he asks, looking at the woman, then at the projection.

‘It’s just an easy way to communicate. You are deaf.’

She erases the phrase and writes ‘We have questions.’

“And I don’t want to answer!” he yells.

The doctors look at each other and they say something he can’t hear, what he hears is Eddie screaming Nooo! while he swims toward the glass, hitting it with a loud thump.

Someone drags Steve away from the room and he finds himself in an interrogation room; he has never been in one of those but he recognizes one when he sees it and it doesn’t take a genius to understand what they are up for.

The first hit caught him by surprise, and Steve bites his tongue while his head turns.

He spits the blood, feeling his cheek throb.

They keep hitting him for a long time, while they keep questioning him.

How does he know the creature?

What is their connection?

Where is his den?

How do they communicate?

Has he ever seen him transform?

How does he do it?

But Steve doesn’t answer any of these questions, he just keeps singing a stupid song he listened to on the radio that got stuck in his head.

When they bring him back to the room he is almost unconscious, every part of his body hurts and he is quite sure that he is not the prettiest boy ever.

He sees some movements in the tank but he is too tired.

When he closes his eyes he dreams. 

***

He dreams of a huge crack in the ocean floor.

He dreams of hot lava and monsters.

He dreams of sirens and an old man.

He dreams about swimming in the ocean without any fear.

He swims down, and down, everything is blue around him and he can’t see the ocean floor but he knows that he has to keep diving, so he does.

The water is blue and the lower he goes the colder it becomes, but he keeps swimming, even when the light becomes less and less, even when it's so dark that the only thing he can see is the red glow behind the rocks.

And then.

Lights.

Noises.

Humans.

A submersible, Steve’s mind provides.

They are working around the crack on the ocean floor. 

They will close it.

Humans are clever.

But not these humans.

There is a little siren that is resting next to the glowing light.

She seems tired, maybe injured.

The submersible catches her and when it moves away for a moment the light of the submersible catches a glimpse of him.

He starts to swim toward the surface, but the submersible is faster.

Faster. And bigger.

He makes a sharp turn to the right, then to the left, there is a place that he avoids but now it could be useful. He swims until he finds refuge behind some rocks.

The long arms of the submersible try to catch him, but he knows that humans can’t stay too long under the water.

He waits.

The submergible leaves.

And then he feels a sharp pain in his tail.

***

Steve wakes up with a startle.

His face is still swollen and he can’t open his right eye, but he is definitely back to the white room.

Eddie is looking at him, his eyes big with worry.

“Are you ok?” he asks, and the creature nods.

Steve looks at Eddie’s tale, sees the pale scar, and suddenly realizes that the dream he had wasn’t his.

It was Eddie’s.

There is a a fucking huge crack in the ocean floor and Brenner and his group are kidnapping sirens.

Sirens that should only be a myth.

Sirens that rest near the crack.

Why?

Steve sits on the bed, his head hurts and he feels dizzy, so he tries to stay still for a moment while he is processing everything that he has learned.

There is a crack under the ocean.

Eddie knows it.

Brenner knows it.

The sirens know it.

But Eddie wants it to be closed. Why? Is he scared of the molten lava or what?

The bright light makes Steve whimper, while he covers his eyes with his arm.

The doctors are still there, and the questions are the same, but he doesn’t answer, so they inject him with something.

All at once, Steve’s mind starts to wander.

Everything seems so funny.

The doctors.

The questions. 

Even the creature in the tank.

Eddie is staring at him.

But maybe he is doing something more than staring.

He feels it.

It’s not like the siren song, it’s not a song that is dragging him toward the peril. It’s a soft song that keeps him safe.

His mouth talks but he doesn’t know what it is saying.

His ears keep buzzing while his mind gets calmer and calmer by the moment.

When finally the doctors leave Steve feels tired and worn out.

What the hell has happened?

Eddie is still looking at him from behind his rocks.

Those yellow eyes seems more malicious than he remembered.

***

The answers that he has given to the doctors must have been the good ones, because the next time they drag him away from the white room they take him to a laboratory.

Dr. Brenner shows him his research, pointing at some peculiar discoveries that they have made on the ocean floors.

He never speaks of the crack in the floor, but Steve knows that he is referring to that.

He nods, taking mental note of every piece of information they are providing, and tries to show an enthusiasm that he doesn’t feel.

Brenner smiles, satisfied, and takes him to a bigger area that seems like a warehouse.

It’s cold inside, and the light is very dim, but when Brenner turns on the light Steve sees tens of sirens, mermaids, and any kind of hybrids between humans and fish, swimming in the tanks.

Some are missing a limb, and a couple are swimming upside down, but there is one with a big black tail that looks absolutely furious.

He gets closer to the first tank. He is deaf, they can't enchant him, but what about the doctors?

He looks at the little siren. She seems the one he saw in his dream. Well, in Eddie’s dream.

And she has a scar around his neck.

Oh. They cut her vocal cords. That’s why they are not scared.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispers to the little siren who looks at him offended and tries to shriek, failing miserably.

The doctor asks him if they are not beautiful.

They are.

Marvelous.

Every single one of them.

And so sad and depressed.

They don’t belong to a tank.

They belong to the sea.

“What do you notice?” the doctor asks, looking at Steve with amusement.

What does he notice? He gets closer to the tanks.

They are all injured. They had their vocal cords cut. And…

“They are all females.”

“I knew you were special, Steve.” the man praised him “All these hybrids are female. Every single one. There are no males. Apart from one.”

Eddie.

“What do you want from him?”

“From him? Nothing. I just want him to impregnate the other hybrids. See if we can create more males.”

“Why?”

“For scientific purposes, Steve. Everything we do, we do it for science!” the doctor replies but Steve doesn’t trust him. He is in the Navy and has seen some documents that come from the Navy. The Navy doesn’t do research for scientific purposes.

“If you could help us with your friend it would help the entire humanity. Think about that: being able to change form might be the way to beat cancer. Your friend's cells can transform from a tail into a pair of legs. How amazing is that?”

Steve shakes his head. 

He will not help them do whatever they want.

Brenner doesn’t seem really pleased with him when they bring him back to the white room.

Eddie is still staring at him, but he doesn't try to communicate this time.

***

Steve keeps dreaming.

About the ocean.

About the sirens.

About Dr. Brenner.

His dreams are a confused mix between his memories and Eddie’s, and the more they stay in the same room the more their consciousness seems to merge.

Steve thinks that he learns something new about Eddie every night, and so does he, and he is proven right when Eddie starts to stare at the long scar that he has on his left wrist.

A long time has passed, but he still remembers the anguish and the despair that brought him to the extreme gesture.

Someone brings them food, fish for Eddie, and a toast for Steve.

Not too bad to be honest. Maybe a little bit too dry.

He takes another bite, and he feels something in his mouth. 

Eddie looks at him, confused.

Steve coughs, hiding from the camera, and takes the little piece of paper that reads: tonight.

He stares at Eddie and Eddie stares back at him.

There is no point in showing him the piece of paper, he can’t read, so he swallows it, with Eddie’s eyes still fixed on him.

***

Steve.

Steve.

Steve!

He opens his eyes. A red light comes from under the door and Eddie is staring at him from his tank.

Fire. Eddie says in his language with no words.

Steve turns toward the door and sees some smoke.

Shit!

“Can you transform?” he asks Eddie, but the creature looks at the camera with hate.

“You are going to die if you stay in that stupid tank! You will boil like an egg!” he yells, but Eddie is still not convinced.

Something, or someone, starts to hit their door and finally, the hinges give up and two figures with protective suits get inside.

The bigger one shoots at the camera, while the smaller one removes his helmet.

It’s a blond guy with blue eyes.

The boy stares at Steve, then gives him another protective suit, and then points at the tank.

Eddie glares at them, while Steve tries to convince him to transform and escape with him.

The bigger man takes off his helmet too and Eddie gets closer to the glass.

“Hey, little monster. Time to go.”

They help him out of the tank and into one of the protective suits. 

The facility is in complete chaos. 

The blond guy is dragging Steve toward the exit but, as soon as he sees the door of the laboratory Steve stops. They can’t leave the creature there, but they can’t take them away either.

Eddie and Steve share a look.

Can’t help. Eddie says, and Steve knows that he is right. He knows it but…

He hears a song. 

Which is not possible because he is deaf.

He turns toward the laboratory door.

The song comes from there and it’s not a scary song. 

It’s a love song.

Eddie stops too, putting his hands on the door.

It’s Eddie’s song.

The blond boy tries to drag Steve away but he is adamant that he will not go.

They break down the door and when they finally enter and look around all the tanks are empty.

All but one.

The one with the beautiful siren with the dark tail.

She has the same scars as the others but…

You came.

And it’s the same kind of sound that Eddie produces when he speaks.

You came.

She repeats, but she is not looking at Steve.

She is looking at Eddie.

I have been waiting for you for so long… baby.

And then the siren sings a song with no vocal cords.

Something old and full of magic.

Full of memories and secrets.

It’s a story. Her story.

The air starts to get too hot, and the two men in suits yell something and then start to drag them away, while the siren keep singing her song. But the farther they get the angrier the song becomes.

It starts to affect the people in the facility, who turn one against the other.

Scissors become weapons, and while they run away the corridor becomes red with blood.

The siren is still singing.

A song of vengeance.

***

Outside of the facility, there is a little boat waiting for them and many many sirens, as if someone, or something, summoned them.

They are angry and they demand blood.

Their song is terrible and the two men start to get affected, but on the boat, there is a young boy who beckons them and Steve follows the group. He has three pairs of big earmuffs and with Steve’s help, they put them on the other two and finally escape from the facility.

While their boat sails, the facility explodes in a lightning of angry red. Red as the portal that Steve saw in Eddie’s dream.

The boys are talking so loudly that Eddie is covering his ears but Steve doesn’t know what they are talking about. When they finally get to a little island the blond guy takes a little scrap of paper, points at himself, and writes “Billy.”

“Steve.” he replies, still unsure about why they saved them from Dr. Brenner, feeling really cautious. 

The question is: why did they do it? And how did they know where to find them?

The second question has a simple answer when they get inside the little port hidden between the rocks revealing a big control room with many employees and a little woman who is clearly in charge.

Eddie gets closer to Steve and takes his hand, worried. Steve holds his hand and feels the skin under his finger becoming drier, he knows that Eddie needs water but he also knows that he will not transform in front of other people.

As if she could read their mind, the little woman who welcomed them escorts them to a secluded area.

She points at the little laguna and then she leaves.

It’s better than the tank but it’s not the ocean.

“I can help you go back to the ocean.” Steve says, and Eddie stares at him before lowering his eyes.

No. He says, and then 

“Who was she?” Steve asks, even if he thinks that he knows the answer.

Mom.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” he whispers, while Eddie gets in the water, swimming to the bottom before transforming back into his mermaid form.

“Your friend is special.” That’s what Brenner had told him and Steve had thought that he was referring to his ability to mutate, but what if was wrong?

What if Brenner was telling him something more?

A loud bum makes him jump scared and surprised.

Eddie looks at him confused.

“I heard that. I fucking heard that!” he yells far too loudly.

When a doctor visits him again, he tells him that his ears are healing. He caused a lot of damage to his own ears but luckily they didn’t get infected and now they are healing. Because a perforated eardrum can heal, and he was the only one not knowing that.

The doctor explains to him that it is going to take long and that he could be experiencing some hearing loss, but his ears will indeed heal.

Knowing that, everyone starts to speak slower and louder around him and he is very glad for that, but what makes Steve worry it’s Eddie.

He keeps swimming in the faked laguna, hiding behind the rock, and eating his food only when he is alone.

He seems to not trust anyone, not even Steve, and that makes him sad.

***

With his hearing getting better Steve starts to move around the military base.

It took him a little to notice but it’s clear that they are in one of the secret military bases that the navy has around the world.

The little woman, Joyce, seems to be the one in charge, while the big man, Hopper, seems to be her second in command.

One night he finds the man smoking just outside the base and sits with him.

“He still hates me, uh?”

“Who?”

“The mermaid.”

“He has a name!” Steve retorts and Hopper looks at him confused.

“What?!”

“His name it’s Eddie.”

Hopper snorts “So you two have bonded, uh?”

Did they?

He named him, which seems a very personal thing, but now they are not close. Or at least Eddie is pushing him away.

“He is a sweet guy. I remember when he was just a little fish. I could hold him in my hand, you know?” the man tells him, breathing circles of smoke in the air “I thought Brenner was right. That we would be able to beat cancer. And so many other diseases.” he takes another puff “I had a kid, you know. A little girl. Her name was Sarah.” Hopper looks far away, lost in some memories “She was sick. Really sick. And Brenner kept telling me that if we could have managed to understand the anatomy of the hybrids we would have found a cure for my kid. And I trusted him. It was stupid, I know, but I was desperate! And when he managed to impregnate that female. God, I was more anxious than when my wife got pregnant. I kept visiting her, looking at the little eggs that she protected fiercely.” he stubs his cigarette out and turns toward Steve “Only that little fish survived. And he was so precious to us. You will not believe how excited we were the first time he transformed into a kid. God. I really thought that it was the proof that we needed, that he would have healed my kid.” he gets up “I was wrong, obviously. My kid died and the little hybrid disappeared with an old man.”

“Wayne?” Steve asks.

“Wayne.” Hopper confirms “Well. George, before he changed his name.”

Steve thinks back to the day he found the picture in the drawer. Eddie kissed the picture with affection before putting it back.

“And why are you here now? What do you want to do with him?”

“They are not creatures of our world, Steve. They come from a sort of parallel dimension and some portals connect our two dimensions. The majority of the hybrids stay close to the portals, trying to get back to their home. They don’t want to stay here and we don’t want them here. But sometimes these portals open and they fall in our dimension.” They start to walk back to the base “We are exploiting the soil, the air, the sea. They don’t have enough food, especially if they want to stay close to the portals, so they have changed their diet.” he explains and Steve knows exactly what he means: humans.

“And what about you, what are you trying to do?”

“Ideally? Bring all those monsters back to where they came from.”

“And in reality?”

“Close the fucking portals.”

[fishrpg]

2024-09-06: Episode 06 (The Superior Storm)

Original airdate August 5, 1992

Episode Synopsis

The gang travels to Lake Superior to assist with research efforts to analyze the fish populations that are inhabiting the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Dr. Beeker is using a submersible called the HOV Tin Can to explore the water when the weather suddenly turns terrible. Hurricane-force winds begin blowing as huge waves smash across the surface of the lake. The unusual weather patterns are erupting from the center of the lake, coming from a prototype weather-controlling machine being tested on a barge by SynCorp. When the gang approaches the barge, the SynCorp lackeys panic and dump the machine in the lake. The gang must survive several waves of increasingly unpredictable weather in order to deactivate the machine.

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Notable Introduction: HOV Tin Can (Item)

The HOV (Human Occupied Vehicle) Tin Can is a yellow and pink submersible vehicle that is capable of diving to a depth of 1,000 meters and can hold three occupants. The life support systems can keep the occupants alive for 24 hours and keeps them comfortable from temperatures -50 to 100c. It does not have any weapons, but it does a set of arms that can grapple objects. It also has wheels that allow it to be driven on roads, but only for short distances (less than 10km). It is usually transported on a truck or trailer. When the Tin Can is above the water or on land, the top hatch can be opened to allow an occupant to fire a weapon. A single character cannot simultaneously operate the propulsion systems and robotic arms, though multiple characters can operate them simultaneously.