#SWAM Trumpet

[maisonnushi]

Recently, I have been studying mixing again 😌I don't have any DAW friends close to my genre, so I am studying alone🥺

↓I'm using this music I made a long time ago😊

♪自由を求めて(2015)［Seeking Freedom(2015)］

【BOOTH】Free downlord music

[reasonsforhope]

"Many people know about the Yellowstone wolf miracle. After wolves were reintroduced to the national park in the mid-1990s, streamside bushes that had been grazed to stubble by out-of-control elk populations started bouncing back. Streambank erosion decreased. Creatures such as songbirds that favor greenery along creeks returned. Nearby aspens flourished.

While there is debate about how much of this stemmed from the wolves shrinking the elk population and how much was a subtle shift in elk behavior, the overall change was dramatic. People were captivated by the idea that a single charismatic predator’s return could ripple through an entire ecosystem. The result was trumpeted in publications such as National Geographic.

But have you heard about the sea otters and the salt marshes? Probably not.

It turns out these sleek coastal mammals, hunted nearly to extinction for their plush pelts, can play a wolf-like role in rapidly disappearing salt marshes, according to new research. The findings highlight the transformative power of a top predator, and the potential ecosystem benefits from their return.

“It begs the question: In how many other ecosystems worldwide could the reintroduction of a former top predator yield similar benefits?” said Brian Silliman, a Duke University ecologist involved in the research.

The work focused on Elk Slough, a tidal estuary at the edge of California’s Monterey Bay. The salt marsh lining the slough’s banks has been shrinking for decades. Between 1956 and 2003, the area lost 50% of its salt marshes.

Such tidal marshes are critical to keeping shorelines from eroding into the sea, and they are in decline around the world. The damage is often blamed on a combination of human’s altering coastal water flows, rising seas and nutrient pollution that weakens the roots of marsh plants.

But in Elk Slough, a return of sea otters hinted that their earlier disappearance might have been a factor as well. As many as 300,000 sea otters once swam in the coastal waters of western North America, from Baja California north to the Aleutian Islands. But a fur trade begun by Europeans in the 1700s nearly wiped out the animals, reducing their numbers to just a few thousand by the early 1900s. Southern sea otters, which lived on the California coast, were thought to be extinct until a handful were found in the early 1900s.

In the late 1900s, conservation organizations and government agencies embarked on an effort to revive the southern sea otters, which remain protected under the Endangered Species Act. In Monterey Bay, the Monterey Bay Aquarium selected Elk Slough as a prime place to release orphaned young sea otters taken in by the aquarium.

As the otter numbers grew, the dynamics within the salt marsh changed. Between 2008 and 2018, erosion of tidal creeks in the estuary fell by around 70% as otter numbers recovered from just 11 animals to nearly 120 following a population crash tied to an intense El Niño climate cycle.

While suggestive, those results are hardly bulletproof evidence of a link between otters and erosion. Nor does it explain how that might work.

To get a more detailed picture, the researchers visited 5 small tidal creeks feeding into the main slough. At each one, they enclosed some of the marsh with fencing to keep out otters, while other spots were left open. Over three years, they monitored the diverging fates of the different patches.

The results showed that otter presence made a dramatic difference in the condition of the marsh. They also helped illuminate why this was happening. It comes down to the otters’ appetite for small burrowing crabs that live in the marsh.

Adult otters need to eat around 25% of their body weight every day to endure the cold Pacific Ocean waters, the equivalent of 20 to 25 pounds. And crabs are one of their favorite meals. After three years, crab densities were 68% higher in fenced areas beyond the reach of otters. The number of crab burrows was also higher. At the same time, marsh grasses inside the fences fared worse, with 48% less mass of leaves and stems and 15% less root mass, a critical feature for capturing sediment that could otherwise wash away, the scientists reported in late January in Nature.

The results point to the crabs as a culprit in the decline of the marshes, as they excavate their holes and feed on the plant roots. It also shows the returning otters’ potential as a marsh savior, even in the face of rising sea levels and continued pollution. In tidal creeks with high numbers of otters, creek erosion was just 5 centimeters per year, 69% lower than in creeks with fewer otters and a far cry from earlier erosion of as much as 30 centimeters per year.  

“The return of the sea otters didn’t reverse the losses, but it did slow them to a point that these systems could restabilize despite all the other pressures they are subject to,” said Brent Hughes, a biology professor at Sonoma State University and former postdoctoral researcher in Silliman’s Duke lab.

The findings raise the question of whether other coastal ecosystems might benefit from a return of top predators. The scientists note that a number of these places were once filled with such toothy creatures as bears, crocodiles, sharks, wolves, lions and dolphins. Sea otters are still largely absent along much of the West Coast.

As people wrestle to hold back the seas and revive their ailing coasts, a predator revival could offer relatively cheap and effective assistance. “It would cost millions of dollars for humans to rebuild these creek banks and restore these marshes,” Silliman said of Elk Slough. “The sea otters are stabilizing them for free in exchange for an all-you-can-eat crab feast.”"

-via Anthropocene Magazine, February 7, 2024

[scoops-aboy86]

🧜‍♂️ Delayed Inheritance, pt 6

(pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5; also on ao3)

Steve likes Eddie’s friends. The mer with a lot of squirmy, suckery legs instead of a tail is just the first; the other two are more like Eddie, though Gareth has webbed spines along his back and Doug has sharper teeth and thicker fins, rough to the touch when Steve accidentally swam into him. Because, obviously, none of them are sitting down—well, Steve kind of is, bumping what used to be his butt against the silty bottom inside the shipwreck, but the others are all lazily circling above.

“This is so wild,” Gareth is saying. “What’s it like on land? How do you get around, just flopping around on your flippers all the time?”

“They’re called feet, fin-face,” Doug corrects. “You’re embarrassing yourself. They use those, or ride stuff. Right Steve?”

Chuckling, Steve nods. “Right, we walk or ride horses. Or ride in carriages pulled by horses.”

Gareth’s face scrunches up from the effort of trying to imagine this. “Like seahorses?”

“You guys,” Eddie interrupts loudly, frowning. And Steve has heard that tone before, around the castle, right before he’s been deemed annoying and shooed away—but then Eddie glances his way without the frown, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. It’s just for a second, but long enough for Steve to catch. “He’s not under a glass bottom boat here, be cool.”

Steve folds his tail up like he’s hugging his knees and directs a small smile down at the floor and its living decoration of plants, corals, and starfish. For once, he feels like a real guest of honor. Not that he minded the questions, but this does give him a chance to ask some of his own.

Eddie’s friends are good-natured about it, and answer with a similar bombastic enthusiasm as their ringleader. Apparently at one time or another they had all run afoul of fishermen’s nets, or underwater predators, or even other mer before Eddie had apparently thrown himself into the mix and gotten them to safety—just like Eddie did for him. The more they talk, the more Steve thinks of Eddie as some sort of knight, only lacking a shield or sword because of some unfortunate family history that wasn’t even his fault. Knights back at the castle hadn’t been particularly selfless like that; those knights, the kind from fairy tales, tended to stay out roving the kingdom in service of the people, not riding through the main gate with a flourish of trumpets and taking lavish meals in the King’s court.

With Eddie’s reassurances (and the success of Steve moving his tail in just the right way to successfully say hello without embarrassing either of them) in mind, when he tells his own story he just tells them everything. Doug’s blasé ”Wow, that king sounds even worse than your dad, Ed” clenches it—though that does also explain why Eddie lives with his uncle, something he hadn’t thought to wonder about before.

They all crowd around to see his birthmark, too. It’s honestly not something he’s ever given much thought to before today—but he wonders, now, if that’s why all of his court clothes at home are long sleeved, even in high summer. Everyone had always told him that formal wear was just like that, but he’s definitely seen shorter sleeves and lighter, more billowing garments worn in the heat… Down here, it seems like no one bothers with clothes at all.

“That’s the mark alright,” Gareth agrees. “It looks just like my cousin’s, only hers is on her other wrist.”

Steve blinks at him. “Your cousin’s?”

“Yeah. My aunt mated into the royal family.” Turning back to the others, Gareth adds, “You guys remember my cousin, right? She visited us last solstice and was pretty cool.”

Cousin catches in Steve’s brain, because… Gareth’s cousin would then also be his cousin, right? Not that he’s related to Gareth, but. He has family. The kind of family that gets together for holidays and meets each others friends.

King Richard and his wife are both only children, so Steve has never experienced a large extended family like that, but Ariel had sisters.

Wait, didn’t Ariel only have sisters?

“Your aunt?” Steve asks, puzzled. “I thought—Didn’t Wayne say there weren’t any princes?”

“Yeah,” Gareth replies with an odd look down at him. “She’s mated to Princess Attina.”

“Huh.” His eyes go unfocused for a moment while he contemplates two women being a couple.


(Or should they be called mermaids? But they’re not maids if they’re married. Are mated and married the same thing? He’ll have to remember to ask Eddie later.)

“I guess I’ve only ever heard of princes and princesses being together,” Steve says slowly. “But… I hadn’t heard about merfolk being real before to day either, so that just shows what I know.”

“That happens too. It also works the other way, guys with guys,” Jeff offers lazily, but he seems to catch the way heat creeps into Steve’s cheeks and his eyes flick, unbidden, towards Eddie (who just so happens to be fully occupied fiddling with a lock of his hair). When Steve looks back, Jeff grins at him conspiratorially. “Life on land sounds pretty dull, dude. You can only travel forward or backwards and side to side, and you can’t be with whoever you want? It’s way better down here. We’ve got so many more options.”

“Not like it helps any of us get dates,” Doug grumbles.

Something is trying to click inside Steve’s head, but there’s so much going on in there that he can’t quite find the energy to make the connection. Still, as the rest of the guys mutter their agreements with that sentiment in various flavors of joking or resigned, Eddie’s hum of agreement is… good. Something to think about.

Again, as a secondary concern. Because his main priority right now should be mounting a rescue. In order to do that, he just needs to connect with his real mother’s family, however he can.

“So, your cousin,” Steve says, redirecting the conversation back to Gareth.

“Oh, right.” Gareth makes a complicated wiggle with his tail that Steve thinks might be the equivalent of a shrug. “Like I said, she would probably let us in. And if you’re really worried about saving your princess friend ASAP, there’s always King Triton’s trident. Only someone with royal blood can wield it! If you can get your hands on that, be a helluva lot faster way to prove you’re Ariel’s son.”

Steve opens his mouth to agree that faster would be better, but is immediately talked over.

“Wayne is already working on that,” Doug protests. “Being recognized by the family is way more meaningful than anything a stupid trident can do!”

One of Jeff’s tentacles pokes Doug right in the ear. “What, you mean the magic trident that embodies the power of the seven seas and confers unbelievable power to whoever wields it? That stupid trident?”

Steve sits up straight, letting go of his tail. A trident is like a spear, right? He could fight with that. And if it’s magic, he could probably use it to get his legs back, which will be helpful for storming the castle.

“Yeah that trident! The one that’s probably stored in an impenetrable vault somewhere! What’s he supposed to do, ask it to steal itself?”

“Borrow,” Jeff insists. “Not steal, borrow. He’d give it back after he rescues the princess.”

“Woah woah woah,” Eddie shouts, cutting through the bickering and waving his arms in the middle of all their slow circling. “Everybody just swim backwards for a second. How do we know that she’ll even talk to us, huh? Last time she was around, I distinctly remember her calling us gross.”

Jeff laughs. “She called you and Doug gross because neither of you would stop picking your teeth after dinner.”

“Oh, like you weren’t doing the same thing!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t get caught—”

“Eddie,” Steve interrupts, a bright smile breaking across his face as the weight of waiting starts to crumble and fall from his shoulders, “Wayne could meet us at the palace, couldn’t he?”

He can tell from Eddie’s face that he’s not totally convinced, but Steve is determined now and he is, first and foremost, a little bit of a spoiled brat.

All it takes is a few moments of unwaveringly hopeful eye contact while the mer balks, cracks, and caves. Dramatic as ever, Eddie tightens his slow circling into a controlled tumble, brushing against Steve’s shoulder as he winds around him at the last second.

“Very well,” Eddie declares with a pronounced sigh, over the background noise of his friends’ excitement. “This side quest has turned out to be the main quest in disguise. I’ll just… swing back home and leave Wayne a note. That way, if this doesn’t work we can still follow his plan.”

His willingness is, yet again, worth more to Steve than all the gold and jewels in King Richard’s treasure room. Without Eddie, Steve would be adrift and utterly alone in an alien environment, unaware of what he was or even that any others like his new form existed. Wouldn’t have met Wayne to explain about the royal family, or Gareth with his connection to the palace…

Actually, without Eddie he probably would have suffocated in his shirt right there on the beach. But.

Steve just hopes he can think of some way to adequately thank Eddie someday.

~

Steve's aunts, from before Disney retconned away the all-A names thing:

Gareth's aunt by marriage is Attina. Guess who his cousin is going to turn out to beeeeee.

(also on ao3)

Tag list (ask to be added/removed): @hotluncheddie @sofadofax @sweetiepeabob @wheneverfeasible @yesdangerpls

@hiei-harringtonmunson @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @ape31 @aceadoxography

@home-and-having-tea

[owilder]

“Jillian, get me the sun,” Cassie commanded. “I want it.” She leaned back and waited. When her demand was not met, she called out, “Joel! Get me the sun! Joel!” The sun remained in the sky. They were ignoring her again. Cassie began pounding her fists on the ground, crying, “Mummy! Daddy! Joel and Jillian won’t get me the sun! I want it! The sun! The sun! I want the sun!”

      What do you want it for? asked someone from somewhere.

      “I want to wear it in my hair,” answered Cassie dreamily, staring longingly into the sun, “because it’s the same colour.” The stars and the sun were vibrating, and their vibrations sounded the name CASSIE just for her. How do they know it’s my birthday? she marvelled.

      HAPPY BIRTHDAY! trumpeted a voice from above or below or maybe beside her, Cassie could not tell.

      Cassie knit her brows, confused. But it’s not my birthday. My birthday was two months ago. On the fourph. No, that sounded wrong. She mouthed the word “fourth,” but it came out the same way. The stars had stopped dancing and now swam around the sun, a school of fish in an ocean of sky, swimming around a blazing orb of coral. Then the stars were fish, and the sun was coral, and Cassie was peering at them through the clear glass of her mother’s aquarium at the old house. Cassie knew it was the old house because she could see her reflection in the glass – a small child of six or seven clutching a capless permanent marker in her little hand, several more markers littering the carpet by her bare feet. She was drawing a scrawling mosaic of herself and her family and a family of seals all riding a colossal ocean wave on surfboards on the glass of massive aquarium.

Today is indeed the "fourph," so Happy Birthday to Cassie, one of the protagonists of my upcoming fantasy series, The Crimson Realm! In honour of the occasion, here is an out of context excerpt featuring my golden-haired girl from Book the First: Chapter the Fifteenth: Old Demons. Happy Fourph!

[coffehbeans]

Sinking Chips Chapter 1

Okay I'm done editing, new story aaaaaahh

This is the story written after the result of this poll! Thanks sm for voting and for your patience! It took a looong while aaaaah

These two characters are very dear to me. They're one of my oldest g/t ocs alongside Juhren and Sunflower, and I've even made art for them years ago. (funny how I said back then that I'd write about them soon and it took me SIX FREAKING YEARS)

Anyway, I'm very happy to finally share a snippet of their story! Enjoy! <3

Summary: Caytlin Brooke, a sophomore marine biologist student gets stranded in the middle of the sea, with no hopes of rescue. But a chance encounter challenges all she knew about marine life, and a bond is formed in the proccess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The whales’ singing blasted like trumpets in the cave, a sign that a new Heir was about to be announced. With King Freyr’s last breath on the day before, it was a matter of time until the Ocean declared a new protector for the North Atlantic.

Merfolk swam and gathered at the center of the plaza; a large outdoors space made of polished stone. Bioluminescent creatures illuminated their path in a spiral shape, and a large crowd formed as they cheered with clicks and whistles. In front of them laid a magnificent castle, bigger than the length of two blue whales, and with towering, pointy towers. It was made of the same dark blue stone material as the vast cave, and if it wasn’t for the glowing plankton and the blue gemstones decorating the walls in spiral patterns, the intricate carvings of the castle would merge with the walls of the cavern.

Inside the palace, Queen Haliae watched her tears float upwards, the pain of losing her King like a fresh wound in her heart. On each arm, she held a baby, non-identical twins that would never meet their father. One had pale blue skin, as light as the sand on the seabed at night, and dark turquoise hair that flowed like the ocean waves. His tail was a greyish shade of blue, mimicking the pattern of a blue whale, just like his mother’s. The baby cried as the light of the Ocean’s Oracle shone like a chandelier on the ceiling, a ball-shaped crystal filled with flowing, glowing water. It was too bright for the little mer’s small, fragile eyes. The other twin on Haliae’s arm had shorter, unrulier hair as light as the sand with a distinct turquoise undertone, and his skin was a darker shade of blue. His tail was a deep blue like his father’s, mimicking a humpback whale. Unlike his brother, this baby was transfixed by the glowing orb over his head, giggling every time light pulsated from it.

The mother swam up to that crystal with unwavering determination in her eyes, eliciting a prayer to the Ocean, which flowed as easy as a whale’s call. She finished it with a personal supplication, one she whispered so only Mother Ocean would hear.

“May whoever you choose be a beacon of guidance in this kingdom, much like their father were... And may the other find his footing as the New Heir’s shadow.”

As if answering her, the Ocean’s Oracle shone a light as bright as the sun, blinding the mother, her children, and all merfolk gathered inside the palace. The crowd waiting outside whistled and twirled, knowing that the time for a new Heir was soon to come.

When the light dimmed and the Queen opened her eyes, one of her kids was glowing.

It was not the giggling child, no, for Mother Ocean chose the crying, screaming child, who now sobbed louder while glowing a vivid blue. The teardrop-shaped necklace he wore filled with cerulean, fluorescent water, a sign that he was now the New Chosen Heir.

The mother smiled, melancholy shining in her features. So, this was the one that would carry her husband’s legacy. She kissed the unchosen child on the forehead, giving him to one of the servants so she could present the chosen child to the people.

The glow dimmed from her son as Queen Haliae swam towards the outskirts of the castle, and the crowd praised their Majesty with louder cheering. She raised her kid up high, swimming further above her kingdom, and the whistling of merfolk and sea creatures alike shook the foundations of their cave. She cradled her small son in her arms, who was looking at her with pure, round eyes, unaware of the reason for the commotion around him. It was customary for the royal merfolk of the North Atlantic to name their children after the Heir was chosen, and so she thought of a name much fitting for him:

“Your name will be Aegir Sonhavet.” She whispered to his tiny ears.

…

Warm temperature of 77 degrees Fahrenheit. A soft breeze by the sea, no sign of storm in sight. No prediction of wild waves today either.

Today, Caytlin would go cruising.

She shot up from her seat at yet another cell development class, huffing as she shoved things inside her bag before waving bye to her friends and hurrying outside. Pushing her strands of light brown, shoulder-length wavy hair aside and fixing the collar of her white and blue stripped shirt, Caytlin searched for her house’s keys in her jean shorts pockets. Her hand curled around a cute dolphin keychan and she sighed in relief. Putting her keys away safely in her pocket, Caytlin walked out of the university with wide steps.

She walked, no, dashed away from the building, saying hello here and there to the people she knew in her hurried way, until arriving at the bus stop. She recovered her breath as she waited anxiously, pacing left and right, and celebrated when her bus finally arrived.

A few minutes later and Caytlin was close to her home by the harbor. She walked on the sidewalk, glancing to the calming sea to her right, the view of its gentle waves and its deep blue color filling her excitable heart with absolute joy. There it was, in the distance, anchored by the harbor: her, oops- their, well-kept cabin cruiser.

‘Dad is definitely not home today. Soo, I will definitely come back before he arrives!’ She thought, a mischievous smile on her face.

Caytlin checked the inside of her house, which was on the way to the port, to confirm her suspicions. Yep, he wasn’t home. The winds were sure favorable today.

Passing by her house to pick some lost supplies, which she piled on her arms with hurry, Caytlin strode towards the awaiting ship she and her father had for over ten years already. He had taught her everything about the ocean, from how to maneuver the cruiser to curious facts about sea animals, all of which cultivated her deep passion for marine life to begin with.

Loading the ship with supplies, Caytlin boarded it and steered out of the port, giggling with excitement.

And off she went, towards the open sea.

…

It’s jammed.

The engine is jammed.

Caytlin pushed the lever again. Nothing. She tried kicking the engine. No results. She tried opening it with a screwdriver and seeing the inside, and her body ran cold.

The wires were burnt. Completely burnt.

And she had forgotten to bring the reserve components.

“W-well, it was an old boat, after all…”

Caytlin’s heart hammered full swing. She’s in the middle of nowhere, for she cruised too far away from shore, way ahead of the safety margin she and her father had stablished. There’s no land in sight, no signal on her phone and no way of returning back safely.

“I-it’s fine! I-I’ll find a way. Dad will notice I went to the sea. Yeah.”— She said in-between panting breaths.

She’d be rescued safely, that’s it. She’ll just have to wait out in her pretty little ship until help arrives.

That is, if the ship doesn’t topple over or break down when that huge, dark cloud in the sky reaches her.

Caytlin gasped and dashed outside of the cabin to look at the storm that was nearing her location. She gripped the railing tightly.

“No way! The weather forecast said there was no rain today!”

‘But the weather isn’t always predictable’, her father had said once.

Caytlin groaned and clutched at her hair, sucking in a breath. She had to find a way out. She had to.

‘The radio! Maybe the radio would work!’ She ran back inside the cabin and pressed a number she memorized all too well – her father’s.

“No signal. Why there’s no signal?!” – Caytlin flailed her free hand while bouncing on her feet and begging under her breath, as the phone ringed in her ear. – “Please work please work please work plea – “

A heavy slamming of something against the bottom of the ship sent Caytlin flying to the ground with a scream.

“AAH! What was that?! —”

The perturbation made the ship swing side to side, as the ocean waves rolled under it. Caytlin got up, clutching her head, and left the cabin, looking for the source of the sound.

What she saw underneath sent shivers down her spine.

There was a huge shadow under the water. Bigger than two to three times her cabin cruiser, and it was moving.

Despite being knowledgeable of marine life, Caytlin’s heart still hammered against her chest.

“Must be a curious whale. Yeah! Just a whale… But…”

Realization set deep within her, heartbeat rocking inside her ribcage.

“But whale season hasn’t arrived yet –”

The shadow hit the ship in the bottom and Caytlin fell with a shriek. Supporting herself on her hands and knees, she turned around, out of breath as she feared the ship toppling over and making her fall into the cold depths below.

Just as she was reaching for the railing, a shadow covered her frame.

Caytlin hugged the metal bar and closed her eyes shut, preparing herself for the splash of a humpback whale but, nothing came.

Instead, all she heard was breathing, like the creature was right by the crook of her neck.

With wheezing breaths, Caytlin clutched the railing with clammy hands. A huge droplet of water fell to her right, hot, humid air blew on her back, making the hairs on her skin turn up to their end.

She turned around.

The visage confused her. Something light blue covered her field of vision everywhere, but it moved, no, it contracted like muscle tissue. Adorning it were dots of bright blue and teal-colored spots, trailing up the fleshy surface and towards a –

A face. There was a billboard-sized face right over her. White, round eyes covered her field of vision, the cerulean blue irises staring down at her. Its unnaturally grey pupils alone must be bigger than a basketball, massive eyelids covered them. A blink.

Caytlin screamed from the top of her lungs and tried to get up, only to slip and fall hard against the floor. A clicking sound reverberated above her and the ship swung under the creature’s blunt force. She scrambled back with wide eyes until she hit something soft and wet and – Oh gosh, it was the creature’s hand, a gigantic hand brushed against her back, claws longer than her head hovering above her.

Caytlin screamed until her throat went hoarse and the creature backed away, rocking her ship with it. She skidded over the slippery surface until she managed to stabilize long enough to sit still and stare at whatever was staring back at her, a few feet away.

The creature was more distant than before, but very much there and not going anywhere. Only when her screams subsided did Caytlin manage to try and process what the hell was going on with panting breaths.

The ocean got eerily silent, the only sound being the ripples on the sea, the huge creature’s breathing, and Caytlin gasping for air. She attempted to calm her racing heartbeat with deep breaths, one after the other, to process whatever was it that was floating right in front of her, glancing at her small frame with widened eyes.

Directly in front of her field of vision, there was a human-looking chest wider than her boat’s length. Three slits laid on top of its torso on each side, which looked like gills, as they opened and closed under the water. She looked up, and up, at something that resembled very much a male chest, blue in color, with those same splotches of bright blue adorning its – his, vast shoulders and —

That face again. Human-looking, too human and not human at the same time, with almond eyes, no visible crease on its eyelids, blue irises and translucent pupils. There were two thin lines over the eyes in the shape of eyebrows. A flat nose that resembled nothing that could be found in a human, as its nostrils opened and closed like the blowhole of a whale. The spots on his face were like freckles, a darker shade of blue than the blotches on his shoulder.

Despite the foreign appearance, he looked… Beautiful, Caytlin exhaled, lost in wonder. Wavy hair flowed from his head like waterfalls, a dark teal color with light blue tips, which curled at its ends just like waves that crashed on the beach. On one of his pointy ears, which tapered on their ends like a fin, adorned three purple jewels, made of a crystal she couldn't recognize. Around his neck there was a glowing, teardrop-shaped necklace with purple beads, while one arm had a silver-colored arm ring. His arms had dark blue spots and stripes scattered in a random fashion, and Caytlin wondered if they were natural markings or painted on.

He looked like a mermaid out of a fairytale. Except the 80-something-feet in height.

“I-I… Am I dreaming?” – Caytlin whispered.

The creature chirped in return in what sounded like a very loud whale call over the water, way louder than any whale she has heard. Caytlin yelped and covered her ears.

The creature sank itself lower in the water, sending ripples through the ocean, but not taking its huge eyes off her.

Such a creature shouldn’t exist. She must be hallucinating. Yup. That must be it. And yet, why did it look so real? Caytlin looked up at him with widened eyes.

“Y-you’re not gonna eat me, are you?”

She only received a confused noise in return. The creature didn’t open its mouth, yet the sound coming from its throat was just as loud as if it was from a speaker. It must be its way of communication, similar to that of whales and dolphins. That was…

Fascinating.

With buckling knees, Caytlin got up, maintaining eye contact with the creature while clutching the nearby railing with all her might. The merman stayed on its place, observing Caytlin with what she guessed was mighty curiosity. The expressions looked so human… It was like she could see what it – he – was thinking. He widened his eyes as he watched Caytlin get up, sucking in a breath and closing the gills on the side of his neck.

“H-huh, looks like you aren’t going to eat me. Phew.” She sighed and gave the creature a crooked smile.

The creature, however, looked down at her with a confused, but curious expression.

And then it got closer.

“Oh gosh, no no no –! “

He raised himself more above water, waves crashing as he loomed over her with a long shadow and – yep, definitely bigger than 80 feet – Caytlin made a note inside her head. She had swum next to blue whales before and what was before her was certainly bigger than a blue whale, so pretty much over 100 feet tall. When the creature noticed she was shaking and backing away, it raised its eyebrows and sank a little to the ocean, with only its face at view.

It came closer to her, anyway.

Caytlin gasped and sealed her eyes shut when the merperson got so close she could feel his breath – and oh, he was carnivorous alright – her heart racing as she gritted her teeth, pressing herself so hard against the wall outside the cabin she thought she would merge with it. It seemed to be observing her, looking her up and down with a curious expression, moving closer and leaning his large hand over the boat, which was on the verge of capsizing as the metal groaned under the heavy weight.

His eyes observed her just like she has seen whales do before. Was this creature intelligent? Was it a fish? A mammal? Caytlin had so many questions…

She slowly got up again, not taking her eyes off the creature, and sighed shakily, calming her accelerated heart.

If she wasn’t hallucinating right now, this was the greatest discovery human kind had ever seen. And she was its first witness!

Caytlin took one step closer towards the merperson – ‘Yeah, I’m really going crazy’ –she thought, raising her hand with a nervous expression. She knew she had to be calm but, it was so difficult! His face rose far above her and she had to crane her neck up to meet his eyes. Taking a deep breath and closing her own eyes to disperse her fear, Caytlin reached out with a trembling hand, little by little until –

A gasp echoed from above her and she opened her eyes.

She had touched the creature’s nose and he looked at her tiny hand with widened eyes. Caytlin raised her eyebrows. For that moment, time had stopped, her green eyes lost in his. It felt so…So out of this world. She smiled, noticing how both were so curious about each other.

And soon the creature acted the same way.

Caytlin yelped when a wet appendage – the mer’s finger, she realized – caressed her arm up and down as it peered at her with those glossy, cerulean eyes. A sigh ruffled Caytlin’s hair, and she gulped down her nervousness as the creature touched her arm, claws grazing her, heartbeat rocking loudly in her chest.

Satisfied, the creature backed away from her and started lowering his head back to the ocean, with a frown on his gigantic face. ‘Was he sad…?’

When the creature sunk his face completely, Caytlin realized with sinking dread that it was leaving her alone.

“Wait!” she shouted, reaching out towards the ocean.

The merperson raised his torso up again, surprising Caytlin as she fell on her back towards the floor with a yelp. ‘Ow, I really have to stop falling down.’ – she thought. He sunk his body again, whistling and clicking with an apologetic expression, and left only his eyes visible. Caytlin got up and sighed in relief when the merman returned. An impulsive idea lightened up in her head: She could ask for the merman’s help!

But… How would she do this?

“I’m, um, you see, I need help!” – she said, waving her hands around. The merman only tilted his head in confusion.

“Oh, u-um, how am I going to do this…” – Caytlin looked down pensively until an idea popped up, and pointed to the vast horizon behind her with her hand.

“Um, shore, land! I need to get back there! See?”

She made a motion of sea waves with one arm, while cupping her other hand over it, mimicking the vague shape of a boat.

“Boat, um, crashed!”

She ran to her cabin, which made the merman raise his head above water, and tried to turn the engine back on, which failed with loud noises.

“S-see? It’s not working! And, and –” Caytlin ran back to the railing, where the creature looked down at her with a puzzled expression.

“So I need help! Got it?” she gave him a tentative smile. The merman’s frown got deeper.

Yeah, he didn’t seem to have understood a thing. Caytlin groaned and sat on the floor, holding her face with both hands.

“This won’t work…”

And just as she lowered her head, loud splashes sounded all around her. The merman was probably going back to the ocean. It was better this way. Help would arrive soon, anyway.

But when Caytlin kept hearing the sounds, she opened her eyes and looked around. What resembled a blue whale’s tail appeared in her field of vision, splashing gently around her. The creature was swimming around her boat, looking it over. As if analyzing it. Her eyes widened in wonder. Yeah, there was no way he didn’t have similar human levels of intelligence. His behavioral patterns were unlike any other animal she has seen. The merman swam back to be in front of Caytlin, with his eyes lit up, as if he had understood something. He covered her once again with his shadow, looked down at her and nodded.

That was the only warning Caytlin got.

The creature’s heavy hand collided against the bottom of her boat with a loud thump, sending her sliding backwards with a yell until she hit the wall of her cabin again. The boat moved towards the direction Caytlin had pointed before in her previous attempts to communicate. She got up on shaky knees, supporting herself until she entered the cabin, and looked straight ahead, widening her eyes in realization.

The creature was moving the boat back to shore. It was helping her. It had understood what she meant!

Caytlin giggled, leaning over the front window with a gleeful expression on her face. The boat glided quickly on the ocean with the help of the merman’s hand, and from the distance, loud splashes resounded from the powerful flaps of the creature’s tail. Caytlin walked out of the cabin and looked up to the merman, who blinked down at her.

“It’s working!” she raised her hands in triumph.

And then, just when Caytlin thought she could not be more surprised, the creature glanced back at her, and the corners of his lips tilted up.

He smiled.

Her jaw went slack. She could not believe this. This mermaid-like creature, despite his gigantic and intimidating size, not only was intelligent enough that they managed to communicate somehow, but was also helping her get to shore. Not to mention his many human-like mannerisms. She was so… So mesmerized. She gazed at his focused face.

‘I need to know more about him.’

But the rocking of the boat followed by a complete stop made her leave her blissful moment. The merman had stopped swimming, so Caytlin turned around, realizing why. She could see the shore in the distance, close enough so she could be seen and rescued, but far enough so that the creature could slip back into the ocean unnoticed. She looked back up at him, who answered with a sympathetic frown, as if to say “That’s as far as I’ll go.” Caytlin looked down.

“Right, guess this is it, huh?”

She approached his face once again, capturing every single detail in it, hoping to write it all down on her journal later that day. Caytlin reached out a hand for him, who complied, leaning his face against it, as she felt the wet and smooth texture of his skin.

“Thank you… I just hope I can see you again.”

Caytlin looked up, and backed away, leaving space for the creature to dive deep into the ocean again. It lingered by her company for a few moments, as if to also capture her every detail, and with a nod, he dived back into the ocean.

…

The rescue team didn’t take long to find her, even in the pouring rain of the heavy storm. When she stepped safely onto the beach, soaked from head to toe, her dad Charles hugged her tightly, scolding her right after. He was mad, but that was understandable. She wasn’t a teenager anymore, but she sure acted recklessly like one. Caytlin took her dad’s sermon with a saddened but understanding expression, nodding at everything he said, even if her mind drifted somewhere else, back to that encounter by the sea.

Later at night she wrote everything down, from the moment the engine got jammed to the time the merman swam away, as well as observations regarding the creature’s fascinating behavior and appearance, all in precise detail.

Caytlin plopped into her bed, looking at the ceiling with longing and determination.

‘I’ll definitely find you again.’

…

Looking up at the vast stone ceiling of his room. Aegir’s mind drifted back to that excitable, fearful yet curious human face. He remembered the way her tiny hand touched the tip of his nose, how her dry skin brushed against his fingertip.

Humans were, fascinating. She was fascinating.

‘I want to see her again.’

Aegir raised his body up, and secretly swam out of his room towards the dark of the night ocean. He left the cavern, where his kingdom resided in, with a silent whoosh of his tail, swimming up to the surface. Taking in the moonlight, Aegir closed his eyes, opening his nostrils to breathe in the fresh air, and leaning on his back over the ocean’s surface, letting the relaxing currents drift him away.

Dread sank heavy in his mind.

He had just made a grave, grave mistake.

And he did not want to go back on it.

Aegir looked at the moonlight, lost in the recollection of that human’s face, yearning to find her again.

‘Mother Ocean, what am I going to do now?’

[crosbyism]

wip wfriday

thanks for the tag @movetonet ! I currently have three active WIPs. Of those, one is an angsty concussion-era The Lake House AU, another is a slightly ridiculous Mr. and Mrs. Smith/assassin AU— so of course here’s the third, the most ridiculous of all and an incredibly whimsical magical realism au:

“Can I come in?” Nate’s voice bubbled out of him slowly, like viscous bubbles leaving an underwater trumpet. Side effects of such a dreary swim, he supposed. The perpetually-replenishing mud still sloughed off his body in thick sheets; he’d probably feel like a big pile of goo until he showered off the last of the mud and the spell with it.

Malkin looked at Nate like he was crazy in an unnecessarily worried way before he said it. “You crazy? What, you’re shoot yourself here?” 

“I swam, actually,” Nate corrected, mildly exasperated when Geno’s eyebrows climbed even higher up his tall forehead. 

“Through continent?” Geno shook his head, slipping into exasperated annoyance that suited him like a glove. “Always crazy Canadians.”

It was faster than driving and not as draining as shooting himself over. All in all, more or less the best option; but Nate wasn’t going to split hairs with Malkin, so he just shrugged. “Can I come in?” He asked again instead.

That pissed Malkin off properly. “Oh no, I’m leave you outside— what am I, asshole? Fuck you, of course you come in. Take shower, crazy fucking guy.” He muttered all the way down the hall, herding Nate into the bathroom and showing a towel onto the heated towel rack more aggressively than Nate had ever seen anyone do. In a certain way, it kind of reminded Nate of his Scottish grandmother, the way she’d cuss someone out with her words and spell them praises with her winding hands at the same time. Her gifts always tasted a little sharp because of it, and Nate thought Malkin’s might too, if he was so inclined. 

Nate had to step into the shower clothed and wash out the oozing mud little by little, only stripping off his clothes when they’d stopped blubbering up the regenerating muddy ooze. Land-swimming for anything over a hundred miles always left this kind of mild infestation, but it wasn’t anything a thorough shower couldn’t fix. Malkin's big fist even shoved into the shower midway through, shaking a half-empty bottle of Despell Gel at him— probably impatient with how long Nate was taking.

An hour after his drooping arrival, Nate finally felt dry again, clad in too-long sweats and a swooping tshirt opposite Geno at the dining table.

curious about what @dadvans @marcandreyuri @plethoriall @watch-the-damn-line and @mi-kko-ran-tanen are working on! :) haha no pressure tho. otherwise if anyone else feels like doing this, go for it!

[chloe-spade]

Part of Your World

I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue

And it's hey to the starboard, heave-ho

Look out, lad, a mermaid be waiting for you

In mysterious fathoms below

Fathoms below, below

From whence wayward westerlies blow

Where Triton is king, and his merpeople sing

In mysterious fathoms below

"Ah, this feels nice after a long, stuffy day," Prince Izuku said, feeling the wind. "And the sun makes things so much more lighter. Don't ya think?"

"To damn bright for me," Katsuki groaned. "Why do we have to sail this early in the morning?"

"It's not that early, and besides, I like sailing the ship this early in the morning?"

"And hear these pruds ramble about mermaids?"

"It's a sea shanty, Kachan," Izuku corrected. "It's just how they pass the time during long days of sailing. Mermaids are just simply part of the song."

"Ugh, when we both spoke about being pirates, I don't think this is what I meant." Katsuki muttered to himself.

"You mean you being captain? Sorry, Kachan, but Captain Might gave this one to me as an early birthday gift." Izuku explained while teasing. "Come on, we should be able to celebrate it, even just for a little while."

"But this is a decoy.."

"I don't get his real one until I am 21," Izuku chuckled. "He said this could help me for future sailing."

Katsuki rolled his eyes as Izuku climbed onto the rope, looking out onto the sea with a goofy smile. Katsuki can't believe these two were supposed to get wed in the following days, but what can he do?

🐚

Heave-ho

Heave-ho

Heave-ho, heave-ho, heave-ho

In mysterious fathoms below

🐚

Katsuki groaned and bumped into a sailor, resulting in him dropping his smoking pipe down into the sea.

The pipe slowly drifted into the sea and landed between two coral reefs. But a pair of hands took it away, and his red and white blotched tail swam away, looking at the newly acquired item in his hands.

🐚

"Where is he?!" Screamed the King.

"W-we don't know your majesty," stammered a royal guard. "We haven't seen him after his training."

"What?!" Enji called out. "You mean you lost track of my son!"

"We didn't mean to!" Gulped the other royal guard.

Enji growled, glaring at the guards, aiming his trident at the two. But before he can incinerate them, a trumpet is heard from the entrance.

"Your Majesty, Lord Kouki, and his lovely daughter, Lady Momo, have arrived."

Enji groaned and sat down on his throne. "Send them in."

The guards scurried away now that Enji's attention was on Lord Kouki. The man whose daughter was bethroed to Prince Shoto, but with such bad luck, the prince was nowhere to be found.

"How embarrassing," Enji groaned. "To think I taught my youngest son some manners. Where is that damned boy?!"

🐚

Shoto looked around as he entered a nearby ship, hoping for peace. Or, well, look for human stuff.

It was something that he had done for such a long time. How he managed to keep this from his father is a mystery, even to Shoto, but he has a nice collection he is willing to keep. No matter what happens to him.

So, his entering sunken ships that his father had purposely sabotaged made sense. It was a hunting ground for human stuff, and Shoto was willing to learn and collect in any way he could. There was an object that he recently found. It was an odd silver-like object that looked like a mini trident but probably had no magic like one, but it still captured Shoto's eye nonetheless.

"It's so small," he whispered to himself. "Like Father's Trident, but maybe not as magical as his and maybe less dangerous as well."

Shoto sighs as he swims lower, hoping to see any other items before returning home. He often ignores the looks of deep water fish as he continues to explore, as they fear his father, knowing if they try to harm him, it will be their last.

Shoto decided to swim inside one of the sunken ships, picked new human stuff, and saw a reflection of himself. It was unusual to see a reflection this deep beneath the sea, and Shoto liked it despite not knowing why humans needed such a thing.

But it wasn't long before a growl of a shark caught his attention and lunged towards the prince at such speed that it broke the mirror, and blood slowly drifted above them. Shoto didn't have the time to think about what just happened as he swam away in an attempt to escape, but he could hear the growls and chomps of the shark behind him, relentless and ready to eat.

But it wasn't Shoto's first encounter with an aggressive and hungry shark. He knew how to deal with rouge-aggressive animals, as it was part of the harsh training he endured. So he found a nearby broken wooden log and cut it down to trap the shark underneath it.

Shoto panted to himself as he swam higher, seeing the light shining past the sea.

He had a friend to meet, after all.

"Denki!" called Shoto as he rose to the surface, looking around.

The Seagull gasped in shock as he grabbed a telescope to see Shoto. "Oh! Merman at the port! Merman at the port!"

Shoto rolls his eyes and swims forward, surprising the Seagull when he takes the telescope away from his face.

"Wowza! You mermaids know how to swim fast, huh?" Denki laughed. "Well, whatcha got for me today? You know I am here for any human discoveries."

"Yes, I have collected a lot of them this time," Shoto explained.

Denki hummed and rummaged his hands into Shoto's bag, taking out the miniature trident. "Oh, this, this I know very well."

"What is it?" Shoto asked, lifting himself.

"These are called Dinglehoppers," laughed Denki. "This is how humans manage to have pitch perfect hair, with no complications! Like so!"

Shoto watched as Denki used the newly discovered Dinglehopper on his feathers, creating a puffed-up hairdo. He laughed as Denki examined himself, smiling.

"You look nice."

"Why, thank you." Denki beamed. "What else do you have for me?"

"This odd looking intrusment." Shoto answered, giving it to Denki.

"Oh, a Snarfblatt!" Denki called out. "It's a small intrument, and once you take a blow, you can hear beautiful music!"

Denki blew into it, and seaweed and sand blew out.

"Eh, it still needs to be cleaned before use." Denki chuckled, giving it back to Shoto. "Great for marriage, don't you think?"

Shoto's eyes widen at the mention of marriage. "Oh no. I was suppose to meet up with my fiance today!"

"Oh really? Do you want to get the snarfblat?" Denki asked.

"No, but thanks you, Denki." Shoto sighed and grabbed his stuff. "I'll see you soon!"

Shoto sank down and started to swim as fast as he could toward his kingdom, knowing he could be in trouble for being so late. How could he forget such a thing? Marriage was such an essential thing for the kingdom that it was surprising that Shoto forgot.

As Shoto rushed towards his kingdom, he was unaware he was being watched.

🐚

"Go, go, young one," laughed a man from the shadow, watching Shoto swim away. "Go run to your father, young Shoto. Return to the wretched man you call a king and, even worse, a father."

The Merman laughed as he grabbed his bubble. "Oh, look at you. Growing up to be such a fine young boy. I'm not surprised. He wouldn't let his favorite little prince become a monster like me."

The Merman's cyan eyes glared at his bubble, almost ready to pop it. But he backs away, looking at Shoto, hiding his stuff in his room before leaving.

"Such secrets you hide, Shoto," he laughed. "I wonder what happens if you were to made to submit? If you break? Oh, will that day be swell? My sweet little eels, I hope you can keep your eyes on him for much more. I think we have an interesting case."

🐚

Shoto hid a yawn as he sat down at the dinner table, drinking some seaberry juice. He didn't want to be here, but if he missed one more dinner, who knows what would happen to him? So, he surrendered in silence and watched how Enji talked with the Lord.

Luckily for him, Fuyumi convinced his father to let this go until Kouki left. Oh, how the stars align in his favor.

"So, Shoto," started Kouki. "What plans do you have for my daughter?"

"To keep her protected and love, and give her anything she needs." Shoto answered, looking at Lord Kouki.

"I like to hear that," Kouki smiled. "I told you I find a good man for you, Momo. A man with promise."

"Surely I don't deserve all your praises," Shoto blushed. "I am still thinking about it."

"As am I," Momo admitted. "And I promise to do the same with you, Shoto."

"AH, see, this is what I like to see," Enji boasted happily. "And when should we have the wedding?"

"Hmm, perhaps this week?" Kouki suggested. "I want this over as quickly as possible."

Shoto and Momo let out a small gasp before looking at their fathers in surprise. They knew these two were about to wed but in a week? They thought they had more time before the wedding.

"Father, I think it's too soon," Momo objected. "We are not at marrying age, and I thought we agreed that it'll be a year."

"Well, that was before I chose a husband for you, my dear. And look, I have found you a husband, and I changed my mind." Kouki answered. "A week from now, we will have the royal wedding."

"But," Shoto also started to object but was shushed by Enji.

"That is a spledidi idea, Lord Kouki," Enji complimented. "I will make sure I will plan this wedding to your standards."

"I am happy that we agree."

Shoto looks over at Momo, who shares the same expression of worry.

"Toast!" Cheered Enji, lifting his cup of seaberry wine. "To the marriage to Prince Shoto and Lady Momo!"

The men toast in happiness with their children with the looks of sadness.

🐚

"You have some nerve to be late to that dinner, Shoto," Enji lectured. "But since today has brightened because of the marriage, I will not punish you this time around. But mark my words, Shoto, if this happens again, the things I could do to you will be more severe."

"Yes, Father," Shoto sighed. "It won't happen again."

"What could you be possobly be doing that you got so distracted?" Enji started to question.

Shoto decided not to answer, but that was all Enji needed.

"This again, Shoto?! You and this stupid obession with human stuff! I swear everyday, you act like that nutjob of a mother! Collected human stuff!! Stuff from those horrible humans, humans that would murder our kind without a second thought! Do you know that Shoto?"

"Of course, it's all you talk about," Shoto argued. "How humans are the reason Mother went insane! I have heard it all, over and over again! But what if you are wrong?"

"We are not talking about this, Shoto," Enji hissed.

"No, since you want to start it. You can't keep blaming humans for your actions! You decided to harm them, and they barely knew we existed as a species. Can't we just leave them alone?"

"No! Why would I? They will learn never to infiltrate my seas again! Now go, you disrespectful brat!"

Shoto nods and swims away. He tried to keep his anger in check, but Enji swore he heard a small scoff when Shoto swam.

🐚

The following day arrived, and Momo was ready for wedding planning, but unsurprisingly, Shoto wasn't in his room. But Enji excused it as a morning training thing, and Shoto will be back by noontime, much to Kouki's dismay. But Momo knew it was a lie, considering Enji's teeth gritted angrily.

So Momo spent her time drinking seaberry tea in the seaweed gardens; it was beautiful and made her think about some other things, but when a shadow flew over her, it caused her to look up to see Shoto swimming with a bag in his hands.

"Shoto? I thought he was training?" Pondered Momo, looking up at him. "Where is he going?"

Momo looks up at him and starts to follow Shoto against her better judgment. She knows it's wrong, but if she were to marry Shoto, she needed to take the first step into learning about her new fiance and try to understand it.

Momo watched Shoto slowly glide across the orange corals and toward the underwater revenue. Her eyes widened as she saw Shoto disappear into a small hole covered in vines.

"What is that?" She whispered to herself. "Looks quite private."

"Shoto!" called out older brother Natsou. "Ugh, I promised that man I would look after him, but once again."

"Natsou," Momo whispered, mentioning Natsou over. "Over here."

Natsou looked down and saw Momo. He looks away and swims down to her, looking at the vines. "Lady Momo, what are you doing here?"

"I saw Shoto, and he went inside that small cave," Momo whispered. "I don't know why."

Natsou looks over at the small cave entrance and looks back at Momo. "Should we find out?"

"I'm worried, so yes, please?"

Natsou nodded and carefully led her into the cavern, going through the short tunnel before light shone in, and the duo gasped as they saw the grotto walls full of human stuff, with Shoto sitting on a rock, staring at one of his items.

"Maybe he's right." Shoto sighed sadly, turning over. "Maybe there is something the matter with me."

"What?"

"I just can't see how a world filled with such wonderful things could be so bad?"

🐚

Look at this stuff; isn't it neat?

Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?

Wouldn't you think I'm the boy, the boy who has everything?

🐚

Shoto swims up, fixing his new collection, looking at his collection with a smile. He didn't notice that Momo carefully swam forward and around the collection.

🐚

Look at this trove, treasures untold

How many wonders can one cavern hold?

Looking around here, you think

"Sure, he's got everything."

I've got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty

I've got whozits and whatzits galore

You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty!

But who cares? No big deal; I want more

🐚

"What more could he ever wanted?" Natsou scoffed. "He already has enough because of his existence already."

"Hush," Momo shushed as she swam closer.

She watched as Shoto stared at a strange box and miniature versions of a dancing human couple with a quiet smile on his face.

🐚

I wanna be where the people are

I wanna see, wanna see them dancin'

Walking around on those - what do you call 'em? Oh - feet!

Flippin' your fins, you don't get too far

Legs are required for jumping, dancing

Strolling along down a - what's that word again? Street

🐚

Shoto laughs as he swims up, feeling the small sunlight on his face again. He loved it, much more the cold, dark sea, a sight that he was used to but ultimately grew tired of. It was a wish that Shoto didn't know he had until he started to ponder it, and now that he wished it, he wanted it.

🐚

Up where they walk, up where they run

Up where they stay all day in the sun

Wanderin' free - wish I could be

Part of that world

🐚

"Part of the human world?" Momo whispered to herself, slowly examining the items around him. "….is that why he was late? He was collecting these humans items?"

"But why?" Natsou questioned. "Our father forbade us to even go to the surface, and Shoto wants to disobey him?"

🐚

What would I give if I could live out of these waters?

What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand?

🐚

Shoto sighed as he lay down on the sand, but a huff of disgust made him turn around, pouting. The constant thought of his horrified father corrupted his mind, and he didn't even want to think about it—the lectures, the hurtful statements, everything that made Shoto feel small.

🐚

Bet'cha on land they understand

Bet they don't reprimand their daughters

Bright young women sick of swimmin'

Ready to stand

I'm ready to know what the people know

Ask 'em my questions and get some answers

What's a fire, and why does it - what's the word? Burn?

🐚

Shoto looks back up and swims up to the small hole that allows any light to enter his grotto, reaching his hand out.

🐚

When's it my turn?

Wouldn't I love, love to explore that shore up above?

🐚

But it was all in vain. His hand could only feel the cold air. Empty and alone. Just like Shoto. Defeated, he slowly sank onto his rock, looking back at it again.

🐚

Out of the sea, wish I could be part of that world

🐚

Shoto lays down and closes his eyes. He wanted to imagine being with the humans, but a small shadow interrupted his daydream, and as he opened his eyes, Shoto saw an angry Natsou looking at him in disapproval.

"Natsou?" Shoto gasped as he raised himself up. "How did you find me?"

"You can thank your fiancé for that," Natsou answered.

"I'm sorry," Momo shrank to herself. "I saw you, and I wanted to follow. Just for us to chat and then I found this place and I just somewhat brought Natsou along."

"You brought him along?"

"And is that a problem, Shoto?"

"Yes," Shoto answered. "You guys wouldn't understand what's going on with my mind. And sure, I never told you because you would try to make it about yourself."

"No, I wouldn't." Natsou huffed.

Shoto rolled his eyes. "Just don't tell anyone. Not even Fuyumi."

"But you know she has been covering for you, and she doesn't even know you are doing this." Natsou pointed out.

"But I can't. Fuyumi may have my back, but father knows how to make her speak too," Shoto reminded. "I don't want to bring her into this entire mess of mine. If Father finds out, I would rather have it just me have the fall out of it."

"You are sweet," Momo grinned. "Don't worry, Shoto, I'll be making sure that I will keep your secret."

"…Fine, I'll try to," Natsou conceded. "Let's just go home before Father throws one of his little tantrums."

"I need to clean this up first," Shoto mentioned, looking at some of the items on the floor. "I want this to look clean."

"Right now? It's not like no one is going to see it," Natsou scoffed.

Shoto ignored his older brother and started to clean up his grotto, making sure everything was in place. During the quick clean-up, Shoto heard a muffled boom sound, but the sound created colorful lights that he had never seen before. As he watched, more colorful lights were combined with the booms, and Shoto couldn't help himself.

"What to check that out?" Shoto asked.

"Right now? You are joking, right?"

"Why not?" Shoto asked. "It will only for a few minutes, Natsou."

"But we need to go," Natsou reminded. "Father will flip on us if we don't come back!"

"My father will be worried for me as well," Momo added. "I can't disobey him like you can."

Shoto rolled his eyes. "Fine, but I'm going."

Shoto flicked his tail and started to swim higher, ignoring Natsou and Momo's calls and cries. Shoto listened to the booms that called his name. It was his time, and he would finally reach his hand to feel the nice human air again.

[reigensslickpanties]

Reboot: 100

☆ Reigen Arataka x F!Reader

☆ Episode 1/???%

☆ Genre: Isekai, Romance, Body Swap

☆ Word Count: 1.2k

☆ Warnings: 18+ for Eventual Sexual Themes and Explicit Language (you've been warned)

☆ Contents: Isekai/Transmigration, First Fic Yayyy, Body Swap, Relatable, x reader, y/n, reader is down bad for Reigen Arataka, Misunderstandings

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

“YOU’VE GOTTA BE SHITTING ME—”

There’s no way. After everything, after today, your life’s work was gone.

You made a wounded noise and collapsed into yourself, forehead in hands, curling up like a sad little shrimp.

“My… my Reigen Arataka edits folder. It’s… gone?”

You didn’t have time for this. You’d just gotten politely discharged from your janitor job (don’t ask), your boyfriend of a year ghosted you to chase a femboy (you always had a hunch), and now, your babygirl had been scrubbed from your phone like God themselves had said: “Okay loser, that’s enough.”

Wallpapers. Edits. Screenshots. Fanart. Gone.

Your eye twitched. You were supposed to come home, relax, maybe read a couple of spicy Reigen fanfics while doom-scrolling your pain away. And now? You had nothing. Your only stress reliever just went out the window and didn’t even bother saying goodbye.You felt the pressure of the day building, like a soda bottle shaken for hours. It boiled over.

“YOU KNOW WHAT- SCREW THIS IM SO DONE,” You screamed with your entire chest, not caring if your neighbors downstairs ended up reporting your sorry ass for noise complaints.

You grabbed the closest thing to you on your tragically empty bed—your limited edition Reigen body pillow (god, you’re a nerd)—and chucked it at your shelf full of figurines of yours truly.

And that’s when you remembered just how much of your paycheck went into those.

Your eyes widened in horror. “Oh, shi—”

You launched yourself off the bed, diving headfirst toward the shelf like your life depended on it- (because lets be real: to you it kind of did).

Your forehead collided with the hardwood.

THUNK.

“Aghhhh fuc-” 

You didn’t get to finish the expletive.

Because your biggest, heaviest, most large-headed ceramic figure of the con artist himself tipped from the top shelf and cracked directly into your skull. You felt shards slice across your face. Something warm oozed down your temple. But weirdly... your head didn’t even hurt. It just felt floaty. Numb.

As stars edged into your vision, you had two final thoughts:

This was, objectively, the stupidest way to die.

Of course your death had to be caused by this orange-haired fraud, grinning at you with that stupid smug, handsome face like he knew this would happen.

No dramatic trumpets of salvation. No flashbacks. Just darkness.

And then—

You opened your eyes.

Everything was black.

Not unconscious-black, but awake-black. You were aware. Present.

You’d never been super into religion, but… how the hell were you still conscious?

You were…floating?  Suspended in a place that didn’t have light or time or physics. No up. No down. Just void.

You looked down—if down existed—and saw your form, translucent, white at the edges like an old film reel burning through. You weren’t standing. There wasn’t a floor. There wasn’t even a you, really.

Your body frayed at the edges, barely keeping shape. Like you were being erased.

The space around you warped like someone messed with the settings of reality and turned the sharpness to zero. Everything bent and swam like oil on water. Your senses were underwater. Your limbs felt far away. Your thoughts echoed like you were stuck in the world’s most cursed reverb chamber.

Was this the afterlife?

“Hello?” You called out hesitantly.

No response.

 The sound didn’t travel and instead stopped in front of your face, as if someone was suffocating a cloth over your face. Wait a minute. Was that even your voice coming out? You waited. Maybe for a minute. Maybe for a century. Hard to say when you weren’t even sure you still had blood or bones.  You shuddered. This was just too much to think about. Geez, didn’t realize this was how my day was gonna end. Y’know what? Why not take this time to finally relax. You lay back in a comfortable position and sighed, rubbing your eyes. Just as your impending sense of confusion was fading into acceptance, and the silence began to bore its way into your brain-

PING!

A small white dialogue box popped up in front of your face like a Windows XP error message.

“SOUL ERROR: Dimensional Alignment Incomplete.” Please wait while we attempt to reconnect you to your assigned reality.

“What the hell—?”

Another pop-up:

“Error. Original body not found. Attempting reroute…”

“Wait, what?” This is some voodoo shit…You thought, scrunching up your face.

“New host confirmed.” Welcome, [USERNAME REDACTED], to Dimension JP-100_MPBETA.

“Bro what,” you whispered.

The screen pulsed gently. Like it was breathing. You leaned closer.

Then another window popped up. This one looked… like a terms of service agreement.

You squinted.

By continuing, you acknowledge the forfeiture of corporeal stability, prior reality memories, and dimensional authority. You agree to inhabit the designated vessel for narrative continuity and soul compatibility. Side effects may include: identity displacement, existential migraines, parasocial inversion, and temporary psychic echoes.

Click ‘Accept’ to proceed.

There were no other buttons. Not even an ✕ in the corner.

“Hell no,” you said. “This is definitely how people get isekai’d into slime. Or turn into vending machines. Or furries.”

You tried swiping the box away with your hand—but your hand passed right through it. Like it was coded into your very existence.

Another box popped up.

Touchscreen interface not available in ghost mode. Please blink twice to confirm.

“Are you kidding me,” you groaned. But your eyes betrayed you.

You blinked.

Twice.

And instantly regretted it.

Because the void snapped.

Like a rubber band to the back of your head.

A high-pitched whine pierced through your brain, or whatever was left of it, as the black space pixelated. Your whole non-body convulsed.  Static shot across your vision like your soul was buffering. Then—light.

Too much light.

You screamed. Or maybe just felt like screaming. The world twisted around you like a kaleidoscope being punched. You were being sucked into something. Stretched like spiritual silly putty.

And finally—

Thud.

You gasped.

Air filled your lungs. Heavy, wet, real air.

You opened your eyes.

A flickering fluorescent ceiling stared back at you. Pale gray. Industrial. Dingy. The sound of a fan buzzed overhead, and something smelled like overcooked cup ramen.

You sat up, coughing.

This was…

This was a room.

You looked down at yourself—and froze.

Those weren’t your hands.

They were calloused. Broad. Covered in a light dusting of—oh god—arm hair.

You scrambled up on shaky legs and staggered to the nearest reflective surface—an old metal filing cabinet.

You looked.

And you saw—

Reigen Arataka.

Your soul shriveled.

“No. No. NOOOOOOOO—”

From somewhere behind the cabinet, a voice spoke up.

“…Uh. Are you okay?” You turned around.

And there stood you.

Your original body. Wearing a slightly oversized Salt Splash t-shirt. Looking extremely confused. Holding a mop.

They—you—tilted their head. “Reigen?”

You—the Reigen you—pointed at them with shaking hands.

“WHAT DIMENSIONAL METH-LACED FREAKY FRIDAY BULLSHIT IS THIS.”

The other you blinked. “I was just about to ask you that, evil spirit."

[snail-raven]

Photograph by Hiroya Minakuchi, Minden Pictures/Nat Geo Image Collection

I saw flying fish! They truly fly. I didn't know they live around the Canary Islands until 5 min before the boat trip and thought what are the odds of actually seeing them. Welp I saw them at 3 different occasions. Fuck yeah flying fish!

This photograph was taken in El Hierro, at a depth of 9 meters. Source: Gobierno De Canarias

The whole trip I was snorkeling every chance I got. I saw so many different kind of fish, I can't even list them all; mostly grey some blue, all really cool and then I saw this massive red fish. They were magnificent. The males are boring grey, but the females are this beautiful red. As its relatives, this parrotfish starts as female and then changes to male. Right when I got on the boat I made a sketch of them and noted down the color and once I had internet connection I looked them up. I fucking love parrot fish now, it is from now on my favorite fish.

But not as favorite as Cuttlefish. A beach close by is filled with their bones (exotic pet owners know what I mean haha). I wanted to see one so bad and I got very lucky and saw one one just 3m under me. It was absolutely beautiful, I just wanted to dive down and look at it closer. In a split second they can change both their color and pattern.

A school of trumpet fish swam by us. My instructor said he didn't see such a big group in weeks. They looked really creepy ngl, but I'm also really fascinated by them. I really liked the ones hiding in rocks, just poking their head out. What more to say about the fish; Long noodle.

Source: Gobierno De Canarias

Another amazing colorful fish. I saw some of them monching on some algae really close to the beach, but also many of them in water near rocks. What more is there to say they are absolutely stunning.

This is just some of the marine life I saw around the Gran Canaria. I might make a part two. I can't wait to go back in few years and do some actual diving. This vacation was truly dream come true, especially after I saw a cuttlefish :33

[whispersleo]

Breathed so deep - Aren x Oz fic Words: 1,591

Relationships: Rook/Rook (Dragon Age)

Additional Tags:  Psychological Horror, Paranoia, Hallucinations, Substance Abuse, unreality, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Self-Harm

Summary: Aren’s not sure which is worse: the laughter in the walls, the blood on his hands, or the way Oz’s voice sounds just a little too perfect when it tells him to put the knife down.

Read here or in AO3!

Note: This fic takes place in the Modern Apartment AU setting made by @dragonagegayz, basically everything's the same but takes place now, in his own words <3 Aren is a mess with no one around to remind him what's real and what's not. Enjoy! Kisses en la cola, Leo <3 I was super busy today at the magazine but I can't get them out of my head and I was able to write something short while I had a break.

[ I thought I'd drown. ]

Aren’s eyes peeled open, sticky with sleep and something darker. The room swam—a blur of smudged edges and shifting shadows. His throat was a desert, his skin slick with sweat that clung to the sheets like a second skin. When he pressed his hands to his face, his cheeks came away damp, not just with sweat, but with the salt-crust of dried tears.  

Somewhere in the tangle of blankets, his phone buzzed to life, its glow sickly and faint. 

Then, laughter.  

Not from the phone. Not from the street below. From inside the room.

His gaze snapped to the door just as a shadow—too tall, too thin—slithered out of view. The door slammed . The sound punched through the silence like a gunshot. Aren jerked upright, his vision spinning, his fingers already clawing beneath the pillow. Cold metal met his grip. The knife.  

Months ago, a friend had tried to convince him to buy a gun. "You’re paranoid," they’d said. "Might as well be prepared." Aren had refused. Guns were too final. Too real. 

He held his breath. One. Two. Three seconds.  

No footsteps. No creak of floorboards.  

Impossible. He always locked the door. Always .

Yet when he staggered to his feet, legs trembling, and pressed his palm to the wood—  

The bolt was still in place.  

A breath shuddered out of him. But again,

Laughter.

It didn’t come from the hallway. It came from inside his skull, rattling his teeth, scraping against the bone. His hands flew to his ears, but the sound wasn’t out there. It was in him.

Damn it. Damn it damn it damn— 

Was he screaming? Whispering? He couldn’t tell anymore.  

His tongue dragged across his lips—cracked, bloody. He snatched the phone, thumb smearing sweat across the screen as he activated the flashlight. The beam cut through the dark, and for half a heartbeat, he saw them—  

Shadows. Not cast by anything. Not obeying any light. They twitched at the edge of the glow, skittering back like roaches, giggling as they vanished into the walls.  

Aren’s pulse was a wild, caged thing. He stumbled into the living room, flicked the light switch without looking. The shadows didn’t disappear. They melted, oozing into the corners, under the couch, behind the TV—  

A trumpet blast tore through the air.  

He didn’t remember moving to the kitchen. His body was on autopilot, hands rifling through drawers until his fingers closed around glass, a half-empty bottle of something that burned like hellfire. The cap came off between his teeth, spat onto the floor. He drank until his throat was numb.  

Pills next. A rainbow of them, spilling across the counter. He grabbed a handful, no time to count, no time to care, and swallowed them dry. More alcohol chased them down, a familiar inferno. After years as a fire-eater, he barely felt it. The bottle hit the table with a thud. The shadows leaned in.  

Aren’s breath hitched. Between his fingers, his vision swam—tears, sweat, the creeping dark. His hand shot out, grabbed the knife that he had brought with him. The blade kissed his wrist.  

Just to feel something. Just to know .  He needed to know.

"Put that down, idiot."

The voice froze him.  

"Oz?" His own voice was a broken thing.  

A scoff. "Drop it. Go back to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning."

Aren’s grip tightened. "Are you real?" 

Silence.

"Aren. Drop it. "

The knife clattered onto the counter. He turned, slow, heart in his throat—  

A figure stood in the hallway. No face. No features. Just two eyes, glowing like embers in the dark. Mocking him.  

The bottle left his hand before he could think. Glass exploded against the wall. Liquor dripped like blood. The shadow didn’t flinch. It stepped closer.

Aren’s fingers found the knife again. This time, the blade pressed to his throat—  

Ding-dong.

The doorbell.  

It rang again. And again. And again, until the sound was a drill in his skull.  

He woke up with a gasp.  

Dry throat. Sticky cheeks. Sheets soaked through.  

The doorbell was still ringing.  

Next to him, Oz groaned. "Yeah, yeah, don't move, I’ll get it."

Aren listened.  

No footsteps. No door opening.  

Just—  

Silence.  

He blinked.  

He was in the kitchen. The knife was at his throat. A thin line of blood traced his collarbone, warm and real . He touched it. Smiled. The blade bit deeper.  

Aren’s fingers slipped on the knife. It clattered into the sink, its edge smeared red. His reflection in the cracked phone screen was a grotesque thing, eyes bloodshot, lips cracked, a thin line of crimson snaking down his throat.  

He laughed. Or maybe he just breathed wrong. The sound came out wet, broken. The shadows were gone. Or maybe they’d never been there. But the blood was real. The sting was real. That was something.

His legs gave out. He collapsed onto the floor, limbs numb, the world tilting sideways. The phone skittered from his grip, screen flashing— call active? Had he dialed? Had it rung?  

He didn’t remember. 

But—  

"Ugh, the hell do you want, Aren? I was sleeping." 

Oz’s voice. Rough with sleep. Alive.   

Aren’s chest tightened. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. His tongue was too heavy, his throat too dry. But he listened. To the rustle of sheets, the irritated sigh, the way Oz’s breath hitched just slightly before he grumbled—  

"You better be fucking dying."

Aren’s lips twitched. Maybe I am.  

He didn’t say it. Just let the silence stretch, let Oz’s voice— real, real, real —anchor him to something solid. Then, with trembling fingers, he ended the call.  

The phone slipped from his hand. His head hit the floor. The dark didn’t feel so heavy this time.  

He woke with a bruise purpling his throat, his mouth tasting of copper and stale liquor. The knife was still in the sink with drops of his blood around it like a crime scene. The pills were still scattered across the counter.  

And Oz—  

Oz was in the living room, scowling at his phone. "You called me at 3 a.m. and didn’t say shit ," he snapped. "The hell was that?"  

Aren stared at him. At the way the morning light cut across his face, sharp and almost real.  

"Just checking," he rasped.  

Oz rolled his eyes. "Checking what?"  

Aren smiled. That you’re still here. 

But he didn’t say that either. Especially because he hadn't heard Oz opening the damn door. Aren’s smile faltered. His fingers twitched against the countertop, cold and stiff. 

Oz hadn’t opened the door. Hadn’t walked in. Hadn’t even noticed the blood.  

Aren’s pulse stuttered. His reflection in the toaster—distorted, warped—stared back at him with hollow eyes. The cut on his throat throbbed.  

"Checking if you’d pick up," he muttered, turning away.  

Oz scoffed. "Yeah, well, next time, don’t." He tossed his phone onto the couch and stretched, the hem of his shirt riding up just enough to reveal the scar Aren knew was there—jagged, uneven, from a fight neither of them talked about anymore.  

Aren’s breath caught.  

Real. 

Oz was real.  

Except—  

The door was still locked.

Aren’s stomach twisted. He forced himself to move, to cross the room, to press his palm against the deadbolt.  

Unlocked.

His fingers trembled. He always locked it. Always.   

Oz’s voice cut through the silence. "You gonna stand there all day?"  

Aren didn’t answer. His gaze flicked to the knife in the sink. To the pills. To the blood.  

Then—  

The doorbell.  

A sharp, shrill ding-dong that made them both freeze.  

Oz frowned. "You expecting someone?"  

Aren’s mouth went dry. The doorbell rang again. And again. And again—  

Oz shoved past him, muttering under his breath. "Fucking hell , Aren, if this is another one of your—"  

He yanked the door open. Nothing. No one. Just the empty hallway, the flickering fluorescent light, the faint scent of ozone.  

Oz turned, scowling. "You screwing with me?"  

Aren’s lips parted. Behind Oz, the door slammed shut. Oz didn’t flinch. Because he hadn’t seen it. 

Aren’s vision tunneled. His knees buckled.  

Oz caught him before he hit the ground, hands rough, grip tight. "Hey— hey —what the hell’s wrong with you?"  

Aren’s fingers dug into Oz’s arms. Solid. Warm. Real. But when he looked up, Oz’s eyes weren’t the right color. They were both completely black. Bottomless. Laughing.  

Aren recoiled, scrambling back, his spine hitting the counter. The pills rattled. The knife gleamed.  

Oz— not Oz, not Oz, never Oz —tilted his head. "Aren?"  

The voice was perfect. The concern was perfect.  

But the smile—  

Too wide. Too many teeth.  

Aren’s hand closed around the knife.  

The thing wearing Oz’s face sighed. "Again, really?"  

Aren lunged. The blade sank into flesh. Warmth spilled over his fingers. Oz gasped, but it changed into laughter . Not from Oz. From everywhere.

Aren woke up on the floor.  

Alone.  

The knife was against his own tight, biting deep, the wound bleeding heavily. His neck still hurt from the other cut.

And the door—  

Locked.

His phone next to him buzzed.  

A text.  

From Oz.  

"You better not be dead."

Aren stared at the screen, his dyslexia making it really hard for him to read the words, the alcohol and the pills not helping at all. It took him a long, long moment. Just after, 

"I’m coming over."

The shadows in the corner twitched. Aren smiled, without letting the knife go, burying it deeper and reading again and again, making sure it was real this time.

//

oh whats this? I think I dropped something, oh how clumsy of me-

[candieduranium]

last night i had a dream that i was a swiftie and went to a taylor swift concert and afterwards taylor was at the spa and i saw her but for some reason the spa was a cavern full of water so i swam down it and i saw taylor with her eyes closed lying in this bathtub-looking thing but for some reason when youre in them you dont drown but anyway i saw bubbles come out of her mouth and i thought she was drowning so i swam back out of the cave as fast as i could to try to get help and i came back to my old house?? and i was panicking and i went back to the underwater spa thing where taylor was and she was AWAKE and she started to talk to me and she was like "haha you probably thought i was dead right" and i was like "yeah haha i thought you were DROWNING" and then she was just chatting with me? it was casual conversation but i dont even remember what it was about but the entire time since we're underwater i have to like press my face against this tiny air pocket in the ceiling because i can drown but she cant?? and she keeps yapping and after a little while im like "i love chatting with you and all but it's difficult to hear you when im like going back and forth between trying to grab breaths and holding them underwater to hear you" and she shoots me the most judgmental look and shes like yeah fine whatever and so we swim out of the underwater spa and go to her house?? now keep in mind im not actually a swiftie irl so i genuinely have no clue what her house actually looks like but it was pretty swaggy and it had a lot of windows. but anyway we keep chatting at her house for a while. i think maybe we watched a movie together?? idk but i was sitting on a beanbag. and later we go downstairs to like her living room area and we eat piroulines (the super awesome cylindrical chocolate wafer things) on her bed and watch youtube videos on her phone except this time the section leader from battery at me school band is there?? along with one of the trumpeters??? but yeah we keep watching youtube videos on taylor's phone but i like blacked out during the whole thing and i woke up and the battery section leader was like "ohhh [trumpeter's name] got chocolate eeeeverywhere lmaoo" and then those two just left??? and then it was just me and taylor again and for some reason we're still chatting? and then i say to her stuff like "haha forgive me for not knowing but do you have a boyfriend?" and shes like "yeahhh lol" and then we made like party garlands out of cardboard?? they looked terrible. and then taylor started scrolling on tiktok and i saw one of her own tiktoks and it had over 2 million likes and i said "lol whenever i post a tiktok they only get like 3 likes." I DONT EVEN HAVE TIKTOK IRL. but then i think i left taylor's house and i was like "what nobody's gonna believe me when i tell them what just happened so i guess the only way anyone will know what just happened here will be if taylor swift herself makes a video about what just happened." and then for some reason i looked like youtube influencer jenna phipps???? and then i was playing roblox with taylor swift's boyfriend???? and then i have like tiny tidbits and memories from the rest of the dream but they are honestly even more of a jumbled mess so i'll spare you those. farewell.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find Four Lines

Thanks @the-golden-comet here!

Rules: share lines in your WIP(s) that follow the prompts, then change ONE prompt at the end!

A line about fighting

From The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

“She’s changed!” Ash snapped. “People can do that!” “Not her!” I snapped back, not trying to stop my voice from rising. I knew people were staring, but I didn’t care. “She can’t change! Why can't you see that?” “Why can’t you accept it was a petty misunderstanding!?” I guffawed ironically. “Is that what she told you? It was a petty misunderstanding?” “As a matter of fact, she did.” Ash crossed her arms. “And her dad confirmed it.” “You talked to her dad about me?” I cried in disbelief. “You talked to that tall girl Clarissa about me,” Ash retorted. “Actually,” I spat, “I didn’t. And her name is Carissa.”

A line about hope

From The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

Panic built in my chest, almost tighter than the vines. I felt my eyes and sinuses heat up under the pressure—physical and otherwise. I tried to be positive—Jedi or the girl or Lexi would be there soon and somehow stop these fantastical plants. I doubted that. I was rendered helpless and stopped thrashing against the vines. I couldn’t fight it anymore. But I let my mind stay on the thought of Lexi. At least I could have some comfort, if I hoped she would be okay

A line about anger

From The Secret Portal Part One (Rose POV)

“She didn’t know what she was doing!” Maddie shot at me. “I didn’t say she did,” I said, shrugging. Maddie was being a child. I understood. Robbie made it way too ominous what was gonna happen to Kelsey. Like, he was probably trying to protect Maddie, but make it sound like there’s some hope, dude. “Then what are you saying?” Maddie got closer to me, glaring up at me. “That she did it!” “It wasn't her! She wasn't thinking!” Maddie let out a short scream of frustration.

A line about the sea

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Jedi POV)

Dr. Park was describing the different plants and animals as they passed. A waterfox swam by, its orange scales glistening in the sunlight breaking through the waves. A water dragon gracefully arched its long body beside us. It took all my energy not to reach out through the bubble to touch it. A herd of seahorses was next—their legs rearing as they danced in the water. Elephant koi trumpeted above us, then went away as quickly as they’d come. I didn’t want to leave.

Your lines: A line about fighting, a line about hope, a line about anger, a line about the sky.

Tagging @cowboybrunch @urnumber1star @katwritesshit @buffythevampirelover @mk-writes-stuff

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[sideswipe1730]

Out on the ocean, soft singing could be heard from a turtle shape ship that sailed. Inside the room of the singing, a young woman with dark brown hair and brown eyes, bent over the crib to pick up her three month old daughter and brought her to look at the view of the ocean out the window.

Aviva smiled as she looked out the window and held her daughter, Kiara. She had truly been blessed in the last year. She had found her Martin, her other half or soul Husband, and they had a child, a daughter that was a adventure like her father.

See, the unusual thing about Aviva was, she had been a mermaid, but had been changed into a human by her father after one weird adventure of just trying to get to her Martin.

As Kiara began to squirm in Aviva's arms as some of the ocean spray hit the window. Aviva giggled at the action and began to sing.

You are my world, my darling

What a wonderful world I see

You are the song I'm singing

You are my beautiful Kiara

Martin came into the room smiling at the sound of his wife's singing. He had been really happy when Aviva had conceived their daughter, and was happier that Aviva's father, the king of the merfolk, King Solomon, was holding a special ceremony today for their daughter.

"Darling, we'd better be going." Martin said as he stepped into the room.

"Just look at her, isn't she glowing?" Aviva asked at their daughter's excited expression.

"She looks divine and you look exquisite, but look at the time." Martin replied as the escorted the two out.

"It couldn't be." Aviva gasped as she looked to see how far from shore they were. "Is it?"

"The crew is awaiting your orders." Martin youngest brother Chris smiled at the coupled as they came further onto the deck.

"We're sailing away from our borders." Jimmy, cheerfully chirped from the behind the wheel.

"Ahoy there!" Koki called from the crows nest. "They're coming!"

"Trumpeters ready!" Chris shouted to the soldiers. "Drummers, start drumming!"

Aviva smiled as she and Martin walked down to the main deck, Aviva singing, one of her talents that she had inherited from her deceased mother.

"Down to the sea we go,

Down to a world I know.

There's never been, not ever before,

A child born of sea and shore."

The crew responded in song as Martin, Aviva, Kiara, and Chris approached deck

"Down to the sea we go,

Down to the world below.

A journey to bless a princess-to-be,

Under the sun and under the sea."

"Aviva's coming!" A fish called as he swims to the ocean gathering the attention of the fish, turtles and the merpeople.

Sebastian conducting a ocean band to play a hip-hop beat while he sang.

"What's all the big commotion

That's spreading through the ocean

From sea to shining sea (laughs)

There is no hesitating

Today we're celebrating

Aviva's Kiara.

Sebastian bounced along to the beat as he shooed the sea creatures up to the surface.

Today with Solomon's daughter

Comes to the water

We're gonna have a spree

I think I hear her now

Aviva's Kiara

Lad-da-di-da

Many of the merfolk began to sing as they swam towards the surface of the ocean.

"Up from the sea we rise,

Up to the world of skies.

There's never been, not ever before,

A child born of sea and shore.

Up from the sea we rise,

Up to the world of skies.

Forever to be, together as one,

Under the sea and under the sun."

Aviva walked to the edge of the ship, followed by Martin and Chris. Gesturing to the seafolk as she sang to Kiara.

"This is your world my darling,

One world, the land and sea.

My hope for you for always,

Is that your heart will hold part of me."

Everyone stopped and stared as guards came out of the water, welcoming the good King Solomon of the merpeople, who used his magic to hold himself up at boat level so he could see the happy infants. The crew and merpeople sang in echo with each other.

"Down to the sea we go, (Up from the sea),

Down to the world below."

Aviva smiled and sang happily with everyone else as he held an excited Kiara in her arms. This was the first time since the births that she had been able to see her father, and the first time for Kiara to meet any of Aviva's family.

"Together we come forever to be.

Under one sun, the land and the sea

Together we come forever to be.

Under one sun, the land and the sea."

Solomon smiled as Kiara grinned at him, so he made a rainbow, much like the one he had made at Martin's and Aviva's wedding. As the cheering behind him settled, he revealed the locket he had brought with him.

" My precious Kiara." Solomon sighed as he held up the seashell locket with Kiara's name engraved on it. "I'm giving you this locket so that you will never forget that part of your heart will always belong to the sea."

Opening the locket, a ball of magic swirled out and made a picture. It showed the underwater sea kingdom that had once been Aviva's home, with merfolk swimming around happily. A soft melody played, the same on that Aviva had sung a few minutes before.

As Kiara cooed, Aviva smiled at her. It was perfect. Kiara would remember she was of land and of sea with this gift.

As Solomon smiled back and placed the locket around Kiara's neck, a long black tentacle shot out of the water and grabbed the baby princess right out of her mother's arms.

"Kiara!" Aviva cried out as her child was carried out of her reach.

A tentacle, much like Ursula appeared out of the water, riding on the backs of two manta rays, Rex and Weevil.

She had brown eyes and short length brown hair.

"A party!" the female cackled as the rays carted her and Kiara around.

"Ursula' crazy sister!" Sebastian yelped as he dodged the crazy female.

"I didn't miss the cake and ice cream, did I?" the girl asked as she 'fawned' over Kiara.

"Donita!" Solomon growled

"Surrender the baby, or I'll-" Solomon thundered at the sea witch as his trident, which had strong magic and was used to keep the ocean in check, began to glow.

"Ah, ah, ah." Donita tsked as she used her tentacles to climb the ship, save for the one that held Kiara as her hostage. "Ursula would have simply loved to have come... but something came up. Now-Now, what was it? Oh, yes. You all shish-kebabbed her!"

Aviva was starting to have a hard time breathing as she watched Donita toss Kiara up and down. Martin quickly reached for his wife and held her close, planning the best way to cook the tako with his creature powers.

"One minute you're on top, the next you're sushi." Donita continued, not paying any attention to the glares she was getting, and pulling Chris closed for two seconds. "Now, is that fair? I ask you. But then, whoever said we had to play fair? Oh, Keith!"

The back fins of a shark cut threw the water. It was Bandit Keith. He had once been a merman, but had been banished for stealing from the treasury. Keith had been one of Donita's successful experiments. He now had a shark's tale and could change into a tiger shark at will.

"Make way, little mershrimp!" Bandit Keith bellowed at he plowed threw the seafolk. "I'm coming' through!"

Rearing upright on his tail, Keith opened his mouth as Donita held Kiara right over, barely holding on. Aviva gasped in horror at the sight.

"Now hand over the trident," Donita demanded, "Or your precious granddaughter, will be shark chow!"

"You can have anything you want." Solomon surrendered. "Just don't harm little Kiara."

"Well, well. I get the trident." Donita looked pleased how things were going her way. "Avenge poor, unfortunate Ursula, and gain all the powers of the ocean! And it's not even 10:00. Not a bad morning."

'For you maybe.' Aviva growled in her head as she grabbed the dagger she had on her waist and cut the line holding a piece of the yard up.

"Hit the deck!" Martin shouted as he dropped to avoid the piece of mast, which hit Donita right in the stomach and knocked her off the ship.

But this also sent Kiara flying, right towards Keith's open mouth. This time, Solomon could use his trident, and shrunk the shark to the size of an orange. Martin had grabbed a rope and swung out to catch his daughter just in time.

"Kiara!" Aviva gasped as she took her daughter back into her arms.

"What have you done to me?" Bandit Keith screeched. "Look at me! I'm an anchovy!"

"This isn't the end, Solomon!" Donita sneered as she began to cast a spell. "It's just the beginning!"

"After her!" Solomon shouted, and the sea guards raced to stop her, but it was too late.

"You'll never find me." Donita's voice rang as she, Keith, Rex, and Weevil disappeared in a spell cast ink cloud. "But I'll find you... and your precious granddaughter!"

"We shall not rest until that mad woman is vanquished!" Solomon declared. "Find her! Find her

A few hours later at sunset, Solomon, Sebastian, Flounder, met Aviva, Martin, Chris, Koki, and Jimmy Z at the ocean shore.

"I'm sorry." Solomon sighed with a heavy heart. "There is no sign of her. She's vanished. We'll keep trying."

"Oh sweetie, no." Aviva gasped as she picked up Kiara, who had been crawling toward the sea. "Oh, we've got to keep Kiara away from her."

"Aviva's right." Chris agreed. "Donita may try to go for Kiara again."

"Until Donita is found, Kiara can't go in the sea." Aviva took a deep breath and voiced the painful choice she had made should the search fail. "And neither will I."

"But Aviva!" Flounder gasped,

"I'm sorry, guys." Aviva shook her head. "But if Donita is anything like Ursula she'll never give up."

"This is the only way." Aviva continued as she took off Kiara's locket and gave it back to Solomon. "Kiara can't know about merpeople or Atlantica ... or even you, daddy."

"Very well, Aviva." Solomon sighed, conceding as Aviva turned back into Martin's arms as she softly cried. "You're right."

Turning, Aviva, Martin, Chris, and the rest of the crew walked back into the tortuga.

Solomon and Flounder turned back to the ocean, watching as the locket with Kiara's name on it was dropped to rest at the bottom of the sea.

[vorpalbun]

Witch Machines part 5

In this part, Deryn doesn't know where tf he is. Absolutely no dialogue which sucks. when does Heffy show up

It took a long time for Deryn to reach the edge of the wood. As he made his way along the strange path, noticed the trees and flowers gradually change. He stopped to examine a boggy pool full of trumpet-shaped flowers and appreciated the strands of toad spawn just below the surface of the water. He could also see that the trees had grown shorter as the path sloped up. The light here was different and he wondered if this meant the edge of the wood was close.

As it would be getting dark soon, he did not want to leave the safety of the woods just yet. Unfortunately, since he had not planned on being by himself for so long, he had not packed much food. In fact, it was all gone. He could not see any familiar plants to eat and felt too tired to look. Besides, the events of the day and his apprehensiveness at leaving the wood meant he was not hungry anyway. Unable to imagine what could be waiting for him beyond the edge of the trees, he chose a spot next to a fallen log and settled down for the night, hoping he would feel ready in the morning.

He remembered where he was before he woke up as anxiety crawled up his body. Too uncomfortable to stay on the ground, he got up and shook the dew from his hair. He packed up slowly, not wanting to face the decisions he would have to make.

But despite his apprehension, he did feel a tinge of excitement at the prospect of discovery, of doing something by himself. He tried to hold onto that feeling and the promise that he still might learn more about magic somewhere. With everything packed, including the now forgotten map, he headed back to the path and turned to face the end of the wood.

The trees petered out slowly and his view was blocked by the rising slope he was climbing. This at least allowed him to try to become accustomed to the lack of trees before seeing whatever lay on the other side. There was little he could against the expanse of sky bearing down on him and the wind tugging at his clothes. Scree piled up on either side of the path, which headed straight up the slope. There were no trees now, only coarse grass and exposed rock. It felt colder in the open and the sky was overcast. The effort of climbing the hill did not give the best first impression, but he hoped whatever he saw from the top would be worth it.

Finally, after what felt like an entire day of walking, he reached a pass between two rocky peaks that now spread up into the sky on either side. The path continued down the other side and his eyes followed it farther than he had ever seen before, snaking down to a wide river. There were copses here and there but no more woodland and rocks burst out of the grass all the way down to the river. The wind whistled without trees to catch it.

There was no one else in sight, and he did not expect there to be. The woods were remote and mostly empty of people and he had no reason to think the outside world would be any different, especially since he had not moved that far. He took a break, leaning against rock that was still icy to the touch. Turning back, he saw the woods he knew spreading as far as he could see. It was hard to imagine that he and everyone he knew spent their lives under that dense blanket of leaves. He then set off again, going down the hill to the river.

He had only ever encountered one river, as well as several trickles and brooks, but they were too small to have their own magic. But he had been taught that all rivers had magic to offer, as long as they were not overexploited. He wondered what this river did and how the people nearby used it, if there were any people nearby. He mused on the possible powers a river could have, especially one as wide as this, as he approached the sandy beach that sloped shallowly into the lapping water.

A pair of ducks swam by, heading downstream, stark black and white. He was pleased that he did not recognise them, already discovering new things. Notably, however, something he had not discovered was somewhere to acquire something to eat. He moved along the riverbank to a spot where he could fill a bottle to drink from, then scanned the horizon for anything that might suggest food and set off again for a group of scrubby trees.

Before he reached the trees, he could tell they were not going to be helpful. He was not even sure what they were. With a sigh, he turned back to the river and kept walking. There was still plenty of time in the day to find food and shelter, but the thought of sleeping in the open was disquieting. To make things worse, stopping to drink had made him realise how much his feet were starting to hurt.

Night had fallen and he had feebly produced a simple ball of light to show the way when he came across a ruined house. It had been small even before two of the walls collapsed and now offered little more shelter than the grass-covered ant mounds outside. It had begun to rain as the sun set and he had started to regret ever leaving Sign. He tried to calculate how long it would take to get back home, almost believing he could be in his own bed before it got fully dark. There was a small patch of dry ground in the corner of the two remaining walls. He sat heavily in this corner, leaned against both walls, pulled his hood over his face, and tried to sleep.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Blood and sand - Chapter Thirteen

They didn’t really talk. Every night, Hastur let him in. And every night, Hastur said the same thing: Waste your magic on me, and let us see if there is anything of a cure to this slow and painful end.

Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup. Art by @aktrashpanda.

>>>>READ ON AO3 OR BELOW<<<<

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Chapter Thirteen: Drowning

Finding the door up to the stained-glass hall was easy enough. It was neither locked nor barred, and he entered it just as easily. No Dancers descended; no big, booming voice told him to leave. So Luke climbed the stairs.

Hastur let him.

Soft music filtered through this place now, hovering, gently filling the shadows. Like the scents, it was calming, soothing, stabilizing. “Hello?” Luke called.

“Little human. Why have you returned?” said the King in Yellow from the darkness.

Hastur, Luke told himself, because names were important. “To give you some relief. I can stop before going too far this time, too.”

Hastur laughed, low and frightening; it was such a wicked sound, cruel and eager for pain. “That is very foolish.”

“I want to do it,” said Luke, well-aware that wasn’t a good answer.

“I see,” said the King. “Come to me, then. Waste your magic on me, and let us see if there is anything of a cure to this slow and painful end.”

#

He was not, as he’d thought, able to judge when to stop, and passed out, or was made unconscious. He still sat with the king for an hour, trying, pouring his magic—blue in his mind vision—into that gold; then he woke, staggered back down, and went to bed.

He did it again the next night. And the next. And the next.

No one asked him where he’d been; he knew, or believed, that he was making a difference, and that was all the accolades he needed.

They didn’t really talk. Every night, Hastur let him in. And every night, Hastur said the same thing: Waste your magic on me, and let us see if there is anything of a cure to this slow and painful end.

Luke believed it wasn’t a waste.

Besides, he had more magic to spend now, thanks to Oscar’s training. Dennis was still unhappy, but he trained Luke as he had been, working on the physical aspect.

Luke was just glad to have Dennis back, even if he did refuse to speak about Oscar. “Well, that’s who I wanted to bring back,” he answered just once. “But I don’t understand how he’s here. I didn’t find him. He wasn’t home.” And that was all he’d say on the matter.

#

It was endless. More monsters arrived by the week, and the new moon neared. Oscar would be leaving soon. Luke tried not to think about it.

In the middle of dinner one night, they were ordered to play battleships, and that’s when Luke learned the arena could be flooded.

Everyone had small boats, basic and creaking wood that slowly leaked, that tipped its occupants out with startling ease, that bobbed unsteadily on choppy water made choppy by the monsters that now swam it.

Monsters with back ridges, each fin bigger than his tiny boat, which swam just shallowly enough to disturb the water as they slid beneath his bow like a deadly tease.

“Steady,” said Oscar. “This changes things a bit. You’re going to feel people drowning. You’v got to stay strong, and focus on Arthur.”

Luke would try.

A small boat—propelled by magic and its hooting owners—sped past, splashing them. Luke gasped at the cold.

Arthur had his own boat. Every single other vessel carried a minimum of three, but not his. Dennis (back to his usual smile) had handed out the assignments.

The third wheel in Oscar and Luke’s boat was clearly not pleased by this. A large, furry beast, its features goat-like and its hands bear-claws, it hunched in the stern, scowling at them.

“Focus,” said Oscar. “Here we go.” And on cue, the trumpet rang.

Those who had the power to propel their boats did at once, at each other, completely reckless and sure. The first crash resulted in immediate casualty: four people went in the water; two grappled, bloody, atop the wreckage; and then whatever lurked below raised enormous, spiky tentacles from the water to simply take the people who fell overboard.

Luke hyperventilated, briefly overwhelmed. They were being eaten. Pain and suffering, life being chewed away.

He caught movement from the corner of his eye, and turned in time to see their boat partner lunge at him—

And then it shouted, fell to its side in the boat, and howled in pain.

Luke cataloged its injuries instinctively. The vessels in its legs had been expanded until they exploded, hemorrhaging; the tendons were taut, stretched as if cramping. The joints of its toes were suddenly scar-filled and impossible to bend.

Oscar looked down at it, frowning, a very serious face, a truly grim face, as if he hadn’t wanted to do this, but had no choice. “We are on your side, sir. We’re in this boat together, literally. I will thank you not to try that again.”

Luke saw. He looked up at Oscar with wonder in his face.

“We don’t kill unnecessarily,” said Oscar. “Keep an eye out, now.” Using paddles, they kept their boat in sight of Arthur, who had abandoned his own boat to leap into someone else’s, armed with his paddle, and proceeded to knock all of them into the water.

It churned. Blood bubbled, foaming, rising.

Arthur had taken damage. He was gasping, bleeding; one eye hid under a waterfall of blood from his scalp.

Luke looked and Oscar healed, and Luke saw how he did it, loved the precision, observed the control.

Arthur nodded his thanks, then paddled after another boat.

Someone’s rammed into theirs. Luke cried out and fell next to the fur-guy, but before the attackers could board, they shouted, all of them, and collapsed into their boat.

Oscar handed Luke his dropped paddle.

Luke rose, shaken, and paddled with him. “You’re… really fast.”

“I have to be,” said Oscar.

Arthur had changed boats again and was latched onto some enormous potato-looking thing, biting (yes, Luke, thought, biting) deep into that thing’s side.

“He knows where to strike,” murmured Oscar. “Look.”

It wasn’t random, Arthur’s attack-point: there was some organ close to the skin there, fragile, somehow involved with reproduction, and Arthur digging into that meant the potato-being would be down and out from blood loss quickly.

Yikes.

Arthur slid off; the potato-guy collapsed. And Arthur was paddling again.

Luke wanted to jump over there and heal that creature. He wanted to heal the one behind him. Wouldn’t they be grateful? Surely they would. He’d been told they’d attack, but why, when they’d just been helped?

Then he caught the look from the guy on the bottom of their boat, and was reminded the warnings had been right. The look was envy, and hate; it was venom, and heat. There was nothing in it of hope or help or pleading. No softness.

Luke swallowed.

“Steady,” said Oscar, pulling his attention back.

The goal—to bring one’s ship to the dock on the opposite side—was nearly in reach now. They’d already be there if not for Arthur.

“He’s lost his focus,” Oscar murmured, frowning. “John isn’t helping as he should.”

Luke startled. “John?” he said. “He’s real?”

“Ach, yes,” said Oscar. “He’s—”

The dark shape under the water suddenly surfaced, and everything went to hell.

All the boats clustered near that far dock flipped, dumping occupants. Tentacles rose, ready for the smorgasbord. Everyone in the water changed target from one another to the water beasts. Suddenly, only reaching the safety of the docks mattered.

Oscar was a strong swimmer, in spite of missing an arm, and he made it there, then, one-handed, pulled Luke up. All around them, warriors climbed out of the water; all around them, others failed, and were pulled down. And Arthur—

Someone had set their sights on Arthur instead of the monsters or the docks. Someone who swam up and attacked him from behind, and they both went under.

“No!” shouted Luke, lurching forward.

Oscar pulled him back. “If you go in, you can’t reach him in time! Watch! Use your power when you see them, and watch!”

He was right. It was too far. But still, Luke shook, staring at the wild water, bloody and frothing, and watched. Stared. Looked.

Arthur surfaced, but he wasn’t moving well. His face was blue, and blood streamed from his eyes. Almost immediately, he went under again.

“Come on, Arthur,” said Oscar, focusing hard.

Luke looked harder. He couldn’t fully see. Arthur was…

In a flash, a searing blip of electric blue, Luke saw past the waves and past the froth to Arthur himself, to Arthur’s bright red body, misshapen by wounds, by black holes where something had tried to eat him.

Arthur was actively dying, and Oscar had him alive by the skin of his teeth.

The world went muffled, darkened all along its edges to highlight that one spot of bloody water, and before he could think through what he was doing, Luke jumped in.

He could swim, damn it, and he did so now.

Under the surface, the water was horrible, filthy, filled with flecks of who knew what and clouds of viscera, and Arthur hung in the water, tight like a shrimp, a cloud of blood rising from his mouth. Luke swam to him, kicked up to get a breath, and went back down.

Arthur… something had taken a chunk out of his right side. He was missing… so much.

Luke didn’t think. With everything in him, he focused on Arthur’s heart, on Arthur’s flesh, on missing things that would have to be fucking regrown.

It was overwhelming for one second. Then, it wasn’t; Oscar would keep Arthur alive, so Luke could focus on what needed to be done.

It only made sense to push as much of himself into this as possible.

Luke forgot about breathing. He forgot about the flailing, seeking tentacles in the water, and the desperate warriors, fighting to survive. He forgot everything except Arthur’s body, and Arthur’s life.

He knew organs. Knew them, as if he’d been making them all his life, and he knew how to do this. Could.

Had to.

Would.

Arthur would not be dying tonight.

Luke found himself pulled abruptly onto the dock, panting. Oscar jumped back in and returned with Arthur a moment later, and with Luke’s help, got him out of the water.

Luke had sealed him up. Luke had replaced Arthur’s organs.

Arthur moaned, miserable, clutching his side.

Oscar panted. “Nearly there. Finer… blood vessels and the lymphatic system and the like. Almost there.”

Luke wasn’t done. He was dizzy, but together, they could do this. Arthur would not die tonight! But damn, that drain was a problem, getting in his way. It just wouldn’t stop, and for whatever reason, right now that Arthur was in danger of his life, it seemed to be pulling even harder.

“Breathe,” Oscar wheezed, ordering Arthur, channeling healing.

That stupid drain. Pulling on Arthur’s lifeforce. Like a living thing.

“Fuck,” Arthur moaned.

“It was venomous. Luke, focus!” Oscar said. “Find the damage the poison is doing and counter it. You can do it.”

Looking that closely told Luke more than he’d known before. He could see the thread of that drain actively eating Arthur’s life. He could see it, find it, follow it to its source, locked somehow behind Arthur’s eyes. Arthur couldn’t afford the drain right now. Not now.

“Easy,” Oscar breathed.

All around them, chaos, shouting; there were no more boats now, but only wreckage, and all survivors huddled on the docks.

Luke could see just… where… it was. Yes; tangles. The drain had tied itself to things, threading through and around Arthur on the cellular level, but this wasn’t honestly any different than the cancer Luke had treated in Celephaïs. It slid thin threads of itself beneath every follicle, around every vein, but Luke could see them, and he knew what he had to do.

The drain was desperate. The moment he tried to untangle, it went nuts, desperate, searing. Its hunger scared him, its fear captured him, its desperation warned him, and somehow, Luke began throwing stuff into its grasping claws, filling its hands with soma, keeping it from grabbing at Arthur, or at him, because it tried, and Luke didn’t think about where he was getting the stuff, only that it was needed, more and more, and Luke kept grabbing, and kept untangling, and suddenly Arthur arched off the dock with a gasp, his eyes flying open, and he screamed, and someone else roared, and Luke! came from a deep big bass god voice, and—

#

Luke woke up. The silence was shocking. Both suns had risen; he lay in the soft, dry sand of the arena, staring at the sky, surrounded by adults.

“Luke?” said Arthur, whose eyes were blue, whose eyes moved erratically now, at nothing, in no direction.

“Son,” said Oscar, visibly relieved, and there were tear tracks on his cheeks.

“Fuck,” said the Butcher, Dennis Collins.

Luke looked up at grown-up number four.

Who was a monstrosity in a cloak.

Who had tentacles wriggling, reaching around, touching everything.

Who had ebon-dark hide like someone else Luke knew and saw for an hour a day. A dozen mismatched eyes peered at Luke through the gap in the hood. Its body buzzed loud, and like one Luke had heard before.

“What did you do?” Arthur said.

Luke tried to sit up, and instead had to roll over and throw up a lot of nasty water.

“Easy, lad,” said Dennis. “You’ve swallowed more water than was in this whole place, I think.”

Luke coughed. “Tastes so bad,” he said.

“I’ll bet it does,” said Dennis. “Full of literal shit, by the time everybody got gutted.”

Ugh. He’d have to do all kinds of bacterial healing on himself. And the others. And…

“What did you do?” said Arthur again.

Luke really didn’t feel like answering. “Helped,” he said.

“Fuck this,” said Arthur over his shoulder to the fourth being. “You’re out. You’re going. You’re leaving.”

“No,” said the fourth being, and Luke did a double-take. That was Hastur’s voice. That was undeniably Hastur’s voice.

“Don’t you ‘no’ me,” Arthur snapped.

“He can’t leave,” said Dennis. “The arena’s already tasted his blood, accepted him. There’s only one way out now.”

Everyone stared at him.

“You leave all the time,” Arthur accused.

“Because I’m bound to the god of this place,” said Dennis in what was almost a patient tone. “She knows I’ll come back.”

“She?” said Oscar, perking up.

“The arena. You think I’d be meaning your whore of a god?”

“Insult her again,” said Oscar, low, his one fist clenching.

“Okay, enough,” said Arthur, cutting it off before it went further. “John didn’t sign up for this. He needs to leave.”

“He can’t.” Dennis was unmoved. “And you damn well know there is only one way out. As it is, the priest can only go if he goes soon. However the hell he got here.”

Arthur wobbled. The being steadied him.

Luke looked. He inhaled. “You’re not well,” he said, sitting up and reaching for Arthur.

Arthur didn’t see it. His eyes still jittered, left and right and all over, reminding Luke of a fire hose he saw once, disconnected and flailing. “I’m fucking fine!”

“You’re fucking blind,” said the not-Hastur behind him.

Blind? Luke looked, and—

He woke up again on the sand, feeling woozy, and moaned. His head hurt.

The other men were shouting. Arthur was shouting, the not-Hastur was shouting, Dennis kept declaring, “You know the rule! There’s one way out! One! You win! That’s it!”

“I won’t fight him!” Arthur bellowed.

“You think I’d kill Arthur?” snarled not-Hastur.

Luke reached for that blindness again and winced. He’d definitely over-extended himself. “His eyes…”

“I already tried, son,” Oscar said softly. “Whatever that is, it’s above our paygrade.”

“He’s cursed?” Luke said.

“I think so, yes,” said Oscar.

Luke couldn’t fix curses. Sometimes, he could counter the results of them, but he couldn’t fix curses. His own eyes filled. “How’s he going to fight if he can’t see?”

And that was a question they’d all clearly already been parsing.

“Next time you leave, you take him and go,” snarled the not-Hastur.

“No,” said Dennis with patience beyond patience. “It wouldn’t work. He can’t leave. You knew the risks when you signed up. Did you think no one would ever know you had a fucking whole other person inside you?”

Arthur snarled… but not quite in the right direction. He was blind. Fully blind. How could he do this? Luke gulped. “Why is he blind? Who cursed him?”

“I don’t know, son,” said Oscar.

Luke finally managed to fully sit up. He felt raw, as if he’d horked up parts of his esophagus instead of just foul water. The thought of that water turned his stomach again. “Help me stand, please?” he said, and managed to get to his feet.

And the Dancers must have been waiting for just that moment. They came across the sand in a rush, pointed feet digging divots and sending it flying behind them.

“Shit!” said the huge not-Hastur, who proceeded to pick Arthur up (“No! Stop!” cried Arthur to absolutely no effect) and lurch toward the exit, not quite rolling, not quite running, not quite moving in a way Luke could understand, as if the guy had too many limbs and didn’t know how to work them yet.

Oscar moved forward, between Luke and the oncoming golden horde. Dennis stood back, grim, looking like he’d been asked to eat something unpleasant.

Come, the Dancers said, circling, moving in, all of their pointed limbs sweeping in Luke’s direction and leaving little golden trails behind them. Come.

“He’s not going anywhere,” said Oscar grimly.

“Like we can stop him,” said Dennis. “Go on, lad.”

“He’s not had a chance to recover!” Oscar snapped.

“I’ll go,” said Luke. “It’ll be all right.”

“After what you did down here, I’m not so sure,” said Oscar.

“It’s okay,” said Luke, because he was sure he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’ll go.”

Oscar gave him a look as if Luke had volunteered to walk into fire.

Luke patted his arm. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Dennis chuckled darkly. “Now, that’s faith, innit, priest?’

“What is your problem?” Oscar snapped, turning from Luke to scowl at Dennis.

“You can’t be here. I didn’t bring you. Whoever let you in used my blood, somehow. I’ve got a lot of problems with all of it,” said Dennis.

The Dancers moved closer, their voices no longer in sync. Come… come… come…

Luke sighed. He couldn’t fix their argument, and lacked the words to explain the fake-Butcher thing. “Lead on,” he said, and followed as they drifted away, fully graceful now that their purpose had been fulfilled.

Meanwhile, Arthur and that other guy were long out of sight.

That other guy.

John. It had to be John. The drain, the voice in Arthur’s head, which meant Arthur had not been crazy, after all.

John, who sounded like Hastur.

Couldn’t be. Could it? Could John be the missing piece?

Luke coughed a little, his lungs still angry from aquatic assault, and followed the Dancers up a new set of stairs (of course they felt steeper) and to the hall of many colors.

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[chapter fourteen] [masterpost]

[openshanklygates]

Softness Isn't Weakness

Whumpril 2024 April 6th, 2024 DIZZINESS Miro/Alyssa Santos (OC) Apocalypse Verse

She wasn't cut out for this new world and Alyssa Santos knew it. Even before the world had fallen into total disarray, it was never kind to those who refused to play dirty. Those who acted with only kindness and benevolence in their hearts were either dismissed or completely taken advantage of. And now? Now the worst of what could happen was that they were left for dead and their encampments raided for supplies. Had she been alone, Alyssa knew that would have been her fate.

Thankfully, she wasn't alone.

The one thing kindness was good for was making allies and friends. Alyssa's best friend since she was a child had been Sadie Cullen. Well, Sadie Hahn these days. Since the end of the world, Sadie had married her beau Walter. That marriage had meant that Sadie and Alyssa were protected by the Imperium encampment. Walter led his two closest allies, Marcel and Fabian, on many successful raids of their own. When not needing to hunt and scavenge, Walter ran the encampment with an iron fist in order to protect those he cared for. That meant that when a new threat came calling, Alyssa was also protected.

A new threat like the man who had come with hopes of taking things from the Imperium encampment was currently coming.

Everyone knew the man who called himself The Redeemer. Miro was a brute of a man, who used brute force to take the things that he wanted. Some said that whenever he arrived, the trumpets would sound as if announcing a god himself. Those who lived in the Wasteland with any knowledge of the Redeemer had heard of the way he destroyed the encampment of a man known as El Idolo. It was why, when the trumpets had sounded around the Imperium encampment, Walter had been more than ready.

Miro had attacked with his strength and two of his own minions, a smaller man who looked at if he belonged in The Capital known as The Artiste and a brute of a man who simply went by the name Fulton. While Fulton and The Artiste had headed for Marcel and Fabian, Miro had gone straight for the medical supplies that they had come after. The very supplies that Alyssa, the camp medic, protected with her life. Her head swam as she looked for any weapon she could use. "St...stay back! I won't let you..."

Miro looked her over, a chuckle in his throat, "Come now, malko prasence, do not fight over this. You will not last."

"I'm not afraid of you!" Alyssa shouted, though there was a little tremor in her voice. She stuffed the little med packs into the pockets of the pink apron she wore, though her eyes still searched for something to defend herself with. "I...I'll scream!"

"Not afraid, but you will scream?" Miro laughed, stepping closer to the young woman with a frightening grin.

Alyssa could feel her head swimming, dizzy in her panic. She took a step back, running into the wall behind her. Her soft blue eyes landed on one of the crates she used to prepare her medical supplies, specifically on the scissors she used to cut the bandages. Her hand darted out to grab the pair, though her head still seemed to swim. "I...st...stop!"

"What do you plan to do, hm?" Miro placed a hand above Alyssa on the wall, an eyebrow raised, "Do you think it will stop if you stab me?"

"I-" she wanted to faint, to pass out.

Miro's free hand pulled at the pair of scissors in her hands, cocking his head to the side as she refused to let go, "Come now, malko prasence. Do not make me hurt you."

Alyssa tried to wrestle the scissors out of his grasp and, in one fluid motion, she shoved them forward into the skin of his hand. Her eyes went wide, surprised at her own actions. It wasn't the blood that surprised her. She was a medic, blood was nothing. But knowing she had hurt someone, even in self-defense, was new. "I said let go."

Miro raised his hand, blood running from his palm onto the dirt floor. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flared in anger, "Oh, malko prasence. You should not have done that."

He lunged for her, but Alyssa didn't back down. She moved towards him, plunging the scissors into his thigh, eliciting a pained grunt from the Redeemer. She pried them open, the skin ripping as she did so, causing the man to fall to his other knee and crashing into the wall. Alyssa turned, still woozy on her feet. In the shadow of the doorway stood her savior, Fabian. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Alyssa gave a timid whimper, watching the downed Redeemer, "He-"

"He will have to pay for his crimes," Fabian gave her hip a gentle squeeze, "Let us tell Walter."