#Mer!Rumple

[serenescribe]

I'm a *tad* obsessed with the idea of fae Lilia raising a completely different species son Silver, specifically jellyfish mer Silver. I am curious to see how you would interpret fae Lilia finding baby jelly Silver.

it's been a long while since the last long fic request :') slowly chipping away at them. uni is killing me. i hope you enjoy!

a side note: this was started beeeefore the latest update? actually started it before uni but then didn't get back to it till recently oTL

The thronging crowds of shoppers press in around him, making it harder for him to traverse through the crowd. Still, Lilia tries his best to shove his way past them, twisting his shoulders and ploughing through any gaps he can find. On instinct, one hand reaches up to pull down the hood of his cloak, masking his face further; it isn’t as though he’s in any danger here, or wanted in any capacity, but one should always exercise caution while exploring the boundaries of a black market.

For as long as Lilia can remember, he’s been searching for an old friend of his since the end of the war, travelling to different corners of the world in hopes of finding some inkling of his existence. Such a quest has brought him here, to a black market tucked away in the corner of a tiny island, but unfortunately for himself, Lilia has ended up empty-handed.

He’s trying to leave the area, pushing and shoving his way through the endless sea of patrons, when a sudden shrill cry stops him in his tracks. Lilia’s ears twitch. His head snaps to the side, following the source of the sound, only to come across a small group crowding around a rickety wooden stage. A tall man dressed in a patchwork suit jacket and a rumpled collared shirt talks to all of them, gesturing animatedly with his hands.

But it is what the man is gesturing at that snatches Lilia’s breath.

Because next to him, curled up in a too-small tank filled with muddied water, is a tiny little mer. Little tendrils of its tail tangle together as the creature presses thin fingers against the glass panes of the tank, auroral eyes flicking from side to side with a fervent desperation that Lilia feels in his soul. It is too young to be here, too small; Why in the name of the Thorn Fairy is this child here?

And for some reason, against the logic that tells him he should turn and leave, return to the Valley and carry on with his next mission, his next search, Lilia finds himself stepping towards the stage instead. He slips through the mob with silent steps, eyes fixated upon the petrified mer — a jellyfish, he recognises, his knowledge of aquatic animals rising to mind.

Within a matter of seconds, Lilia has gotten close enough that he catches wind of what the man is saying: “—a beauty, isn’t it?” he crows, tapping a dirty fingernail against the tank, causing the little mer child to shrink away. “We caught it out on the sea this mornin’, and we ain’t gonna let it go for anythin’ less than two thousand thaumarks!”

Disgust chokes his throat like a slimy wad of muck. How utterly deplorable, Lilia thinks, a rare flash of anger sparking through him. He still does not understand what has drawn him so much to this strange creature — the mer with dull silver hair who hugs itself, little bubbles floating through the water as its gills flutter, so impossibly tiny and small—

…Ah. He understands now.

In some way, looking upon this child, Lilia is reminded of Malleus. His mind whisks him back to a different time, when he had been tasked with raising the boy through his infant years, his childhood years, until he matured enough that Lilia no longer needed to keep an eye on him at all times. Is it no wonder, then, that his heart seizes at the sight of this blatant mistreatment? Regardless of whether the creature is fae or not — and it is not, evidently a child of the sea — it does not deserve to be sealed away like this.

Lilia could very well afford the mer. Two thousand thaumarks is quite the sum, but for someone who has been in the service of Briar Valley’s royalty for centuries like he has, he has more than enough money to afford it. But at the sight of the sleazy seller, who reeks of rotting fish and keeps toying with the child — banging his fists against the glass, sticking his grimy hand inside to grab its fragile wrist and yank it partially out of the dirty saltwater, yelling loud enough that its fins press against its head, clearly terrified—

The mer’s eyes flick towards him, locking with Lilia’s gaze. A fervent desperation flickers within them. It presses its hand against the glass again, scrabbling against the surface. A silent plea for help — and one that Lilia shall answer in the only way he knows how.

When night falls, Lilia strikes.

The auction for the jellyfish mer has been scheduled for tomorrow – a greedy move on the part of the fisherman selling it, to maximise profits as much as possible by drumming up heaps of attention. But it had worked; by the time evening fell and the terrified little child had been carted away to a dinky tent nearby, a sizable crowd of murmuring buyers had formed. Lilia had caught sight of some of them flipping through their stacks of thaumarks, counting their funds carefully.

He only has one shot at this. He has to make it count.

Closing his eyes, Lilia allows his magic to cloak him like a thin veil over his skin, shielding him from view. Stealth is his best option here; while he is more than capable of slaughtering everyone involved in kidnapping that young mer, Lilia does not wish to bloody his hands any more than he has to. His days of bloodshed and violence are long behind him, and as much as he wishes to teach the mer’s kidnappers a lesson, he figures that losing the child shall be punishment enough for them.

Besides, it wouldn’t do good if word got out that the general of Briar Valley was off slaughtering humans in another country.

With silent steps, Lilia steals past the guard — a man who keeps dozing off, jolting upwards every few seconds — and slides into the tent with scarcely a whisper. The interior is dank and dim; there is another guard there, this one alert and awake, arms crossed as he surveys the dirty tank left on the floor nearby.

A crushing feeling overtakes his heart at the sight of the mer. The young child curls into itself, tucking its chin into its chest, floating tufts of hair shielding its eyes from view. It looks lifeless, the only sign of its survival being the faint fluttering of gills. Something in his chest twists at the sight, a certainty settling within him. Lilia knows that what he is doing is right.

With the flick of a wrist, he conjures a small mist of magic, watching as it wafts over to the guard and swirls around him. Within a matter of seconds, though he fights to stay awake, the man has passed out, collapsing onto the ground — and it is only Lilia’s reflexes that allow him to cushion the fall, more from the need to avoid attracting attention than any care for the man. Slowly, he lowers him to the ground before releasing the invisibility spell, brushing off his hands on his cloak as he turns back towards the tank to see—

Wide eyes, hued with shades of baby blue and lavender and pink, gaze at him from behind muddied glass. Fingers press against the tank, and Lilia winces at the sound of a warbling trill.

In a flash, he darts forward, pressing a finger against his lips. “Shh!”

But he is too late.

Even as the child slaps its tiny webbed hands over its mouth, eyes widening as it realises what it has done, Lilia knows the guard outside must have heard it. There’s a creaking sound, heavy footsteps dragging across the ground, accompanied by a languid sigh, and it is only his quick reflexes, honed after years and years of war, that allow him to escape notice.

In a flash, Lilia has flung himself upwards, clinging to a corner of the tent, tucking himself in as closely as possible. If he’d had more time, he’d have thrown the same invisibility spell over himself but alas. All he can do is shrink back as much as possible, limbs wrapped around one of the poles holding the tent upright, and praying that the guard is stupid enough to not notice the shadow he’s casting across the floor.

He holds his breath, watching as the burly figure enters the tent.

“Oi,” the guard grunts sharply, narrowing his eyes at the mer in the tank — who thankfully avoids glancing over to Lilia, smart enough to avoid betraying his location. He ambles up to the tank before glancing off to the side. The man stiffens, having found the slumbering body of his fellow guard. “What the—”

Alright, that’s enough of that.

With the same spell he’d casted earlier, Lilia knocks out the second guard. The only caveat is that this time, the guard falls to the ground with nothing to cushion his landing, smashing into a nearby crate with a rather loud CRASH!

Lilia flinches, adrenaline igniting his veins. Dropping from the pole, he barely spares the scene a glance, racing back to the mer instead and lifting the heavy glass lid off its tank. “Can you breathe outside of the water?” he asks, constantly glancing over his shoulder for any signs of someone coming in, ears pricking as he strains to hear the barest bit of sound. As soon as the mer nods, Lilia’s reaching into the briney water as the mer raises its arms, thanking the fact that he’s wearing thick cloth and gloves, if only for the fact that the mer’s tendrils wrap around his limbs as he lifts it out and cradles it close to his chest. “Stay quiet,” he hisses, using his other hand to conjure the same spell from earlier, hoping it’ll hold through. “The last thing we want is to attract any unwanted attention.”

They slip out of the tent just before someone else arrives — another one of the fisherman’s nameless cronies, with the fisherman himself ambling after in ragged loungewear. Lilia holds his breath, skulking beneath the shadow of a tree, each step careful and calculated; he would teleport if he could, but he isn’t sure how that would affect the child, weakened and frail as it is.

So he sneaks away slowly and steadily, leaving the commotion behind, the pitching screams and demands for everyone to search for the missing mer, to get their product back — such an inhumane term that it makes Lilia want to puke. And the further he gets away, the faster he gets; before long, he’s sprinting, the spell melting off of him, out of distance from the captors for now.

The mer clings to him, snuggling close. Lilia holds it tight against him like a lifeline, a swell of such fervent protectiveness rising within him, washing over his mind and soul.

“Here we are,” Lilia breathes. His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath. Ah, he is certainly growing old, more winded from this than he would have been in his prime. His boots dig deep gouges into the sand as he walks towards the shoreline, the night’s sky twinkling overhead, reflecting in the waves to form a sea of stars.

Initially, he’d headed straight for the nearest beach he could think of, all before arriving and already spotting a small group of stragglers searching around. It had taken much longer to travel to a different corner of this island, but it had been a necessary precaution in the end; the last thing Lilia wanted was for the mer to get recaptured after being returned to the sea.

The waves lick at his boots as he walks into the ocean, far enough that the water reaches his knees. “There you go,” Lilia says kindly as he leans down, pulling the little mer away from his chest, returning it to the sea. A soft smile spreads across his lips as he watches the child reach for the water before plunging in with a splash, its form a tiny shadow amidst the lapping waves before its head breaks back above the water.

“Isn’t that better now?” Lilia croons, a warmth wrapping around his heart as the mer nods eagerly, beaming brightly at Lilia, the moonlight shining down on its silver hair. “Good, good,” Lilia says, slowly straightening up. He yawns, stretching his arms above his head, a cracking noise accompanying the motion. “Oh, I hadn’t expected to do this much today,” he murmurs to himself before shaking his head. Giving the mer one last smile, Lilia says, “You take care of yourself now, hm? Don’t go getting caught in any nets again, khee hee.”

And that would have been the end of everything. Ideally, Lilia would have stepped out of the water, using his magic to dry himself off before teleporting to the pier at the other side of the island and waiting for the first ferry to start him on his journey home. The mer would have been relegated to little more than a story to recite to Malleus upon his return, a thrilling rescue he’d mounted in the midst of what would have been another ordinary trip.

But what Lilia didn’t account for was that the child would get attached.

Before he can even make it a few steps away, there’s a rapid-fire outburst of frantic trills and clicking before something heavy barrels right into his legs. Lilia stumbles, losing his balance and crashing down with a screech and a mighty splash. Water soaks through his clothes, his cloak; Lilia spits some of it out of his mouth, blinking the salt out of his eyes, all while something curls around his leg tightly, refusing to let go.

“Little one…” Lilia stares at the mer child, its arms wrapped around his leg, squeezing with a vice grip that a lesser human would not have been able to withstand. Where was all this strength while you were trapped? Lilia ponders briefly, before dismissing the thought. He leans forward, gently prying webbed fingers away from his pants, pulling the child off of him. “Your home is here,” Lilia insists, gesturing at the sea around them. “I live elsewhere; I cannot possibly stay.”

Another round of distressed clicking and trilling. The mer stares at him with big, pleading eyes, swimming forward between his legs to cling to the front of Lilia’s shirt. “Little one—” Lilia tries again, because how can he stay? He has a place to return to, obligations to attend to, people waiting for him. But the mer child ignores him, pressing itself against Lilia with a stubborn determination that surprises him.

“Surely your family should be coming to find you soon,” Lilia tries, only to be met with the shaking of a head, silver hair slicked against its forehead. He raises an eyebrow. “An orphan?” Lilia mutters — words intended for his ears only, except he knows the mer has heard him from the way its grip on him tightens. “But— dear, I cannot possibly bring you home. I live very far away from here, and not anywhere particularly close to the sea!”

But no matter how hard Lilia tries to protest, to gently push the mer off of him, to leave it here — because this is its home, here in the sea; what will become of it, if Lilia were to smuggle it into the Valley, bring it on such a lengthy journey? — it refuses to go. And as time ticks by, the hours passing until the sunrise begins to bleed on the horizon, Lilia finally concedes.

“What a headstrong child you are,” Lilia muses, ignoring the sopping wet cloth clinging to him as he stumbles out of the sea, giggling mer child held in his arms. He gazes at it— no, him, at the child in his hold. “Do you have a name, little one?”

The mer blinks at him. “I’ll take that as a no,” Lilia sighs. Ah… what could a good name possibly be? It’s something he ponders over during the entire trip back, using his magic to mimic a glamour over the mer such that everyone shall see him as only a human child.

But it’s not until he’s sitting in his cabin late at night with the mer curled in his arms that it hits him. Moonbeams streak through the porthole, reflecting off the boy’s shimmering hair, washing it in a silvery light.

“Silver,” Lilia decides, testing the name out on his tongue to find that it feels right.

Silver, this mer he rescued by chance, the one who clung to him, who didn’t want to let go. Silver, who is his.

Leaning back in his chair, Lilia closes his eyes and smiles.

[ao3feed-twistedwonderland]

tendrils and tidal waves

tendrils and tidal waves by serenescribe He’s trying to leave the area, pushing and shoving his way through the endless sea of patrons, when a sudden shrill cry stops him in his tracks. Lilia’s ears twitch. His head snaps to the side, following the source of the sound, only to come across a small group crowding around a rickety wooden stage. A tall man dressed in a patchwork suit jacket and a rumpled collared shirt talks to them all, gesturing animatedly with his hands. But it is what the man is gesturing at that snatches away Lilia’s breath. Because next to him, curled up in a too-small tank filled with muddied water, is a tiny little mer. Little tendrils of its tail tangle together as the creature presses thin fingers against the glass panes of the tank, auroral eyes flicking from side to side with a fervent desperation that Lilia feels in his soul. It is too young to be here, too small. Why in the name of the Thorn Fairy is this child here? Words: 2796, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Silver (Twisted-Wonderland), Lilia Vanrouge Relationships: Silver & Lilia Vanrouge Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Jellyfish Mer Silver, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Rescue Missions, Accidental Child Acquisition, Protectiveness read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/gafvVNs

[dracoqueen22]

BlorboWriMo 2024 - Day Ten

Cecil presses his lips into a thin line, his eyes very firmly focused on Dart’s face. “Can you put some pants on now, please?” 

“We’ve already fucked, I don’t know why you’re acting shy about it,” Dart grumbles, but it’s cold, and he’s not sure he can feel his toes anymore, so he doesn’t make too much of a fuss. He just pulls on his pants and his shirt and wishes he had some socks. 

His boots are somewhere at the bottom of the sea. If Cecil’s generous, maybe he’ll let Dart go diving for them tomorrow. It’s not like Dart can run away. He suspects Sirene won’t let him get far. 

“Nope,” she confirms. “Besides, you won’t let yourself run away either.” 

Dart pauses mid-button. “What?” 

“Ask Cecil.” 

Sometimes, Dart wishes he could shake his Zivati. It doesn’t do much good to shake the sword, but he wants to grab Sirene by the shoulders and give her a good rattle. Maybe some answers will fall out. 

Dart tries to finger-comb his damp hair into something respectable as he turns to face Cecil. His words die on his tongue though, because Cecil’s getting dressed, too. He was already wearing pants, but he’s pulled on a shirt that stretches nicely over his broad shoulders. It emphasizes his narrow waist. 

Dart’s hands would fit rather perfectly on his hips, actually. 

“Still you!” Sirene sings before Dart can work up an internal glare. 

Damn his healthy libido. 

Dart coughs into his hand to pretend he hadn’t been enjoying the stretch of Cecil’s trousers across his plump arse. “Now what?” 

Cecil looks at him, dark circles heavy under his eyes, visibly exhausting. He looks about as lost as Dart feels. “Are you hungry?” 

“Yeah, actually.” Breakfast had been before dawn, lunch had been trail rations on the road, and they never got to dinner, so plainly put, Dart is starving. 

Cecil lifts his shoulders. “We’ll start with that then.” He crouches to lift Vesper and Sirene both from the ground, though he offers Sirene to Dart. 

“Thanks.” 

Dart braces himself, but nothing happens in the exchange of blades. No tingles. No shocks. No floods of warmth. Just the cool wood of Sirene’s hilt in his hand, and the noisy rattle of the buckles on her sheath. 

“I told you we’d behave,” Sirene says. 

“Try and keep that up,” Dart retorts. He turns in a circle, looking around the tent, but no other furniture has spontaneously appeared. 

There’s just the bed roll, rumpled and smelling of sex, and two separate piles of belongings, one which is Dart’s and much smaller than Cecil’s. Dart’s not keen on sitting on the tarp because it’s cold, so he plops his ass down on one end of the bedroll and sets Sirene beside him. 

If he concentrates, he can hear the quiet noises of the camp outside the tent. Conversation too indistinct to make out, footsteps crunching on patrol, Shively’s voice overlaying it all. No one seems bothered that their captain is by himself with a prisoner. 

It’s very, very weird. 

“This is all I have,” Cecil says as he sits down next to Dart, though with a respectable distance between them. He hands over what looks to be more trail rations. “Can you eat it?” 

Dart raises an eyebrow. “Yes…? If I have to.” He’s not a fan of trail rations. Too dry and salty. He prefers his food fresh. He’s hungry enough right now that he doesn’t care. 

“Good.” Cecil fiddles with the wrapper on his own packet of rations. “What do I call you?” 

Dart scrapes the back of his wrist over his mouth. “Uh, Dart? Did you forget my name already? That’s kind of rude.” 

“No, I mean–” The tips of Cecil’s ears darken. He looks at Dart from the corner of his eye, like he’s embarrassed, before he gestures to himself. “I’m a man. And you are…?”

It’s Dart’s turn to be confused. “... not a man?” he guesses. “I kind of thought it was obvious that I’m a sea-mer. I mean, my dad’s a Tsak, so maybe that makes me kind of a man.”

Cecil sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I meant either.” He looks up at the ceiling of the tent as if he’s searching for patience. Dart’s familiar with the gesture. Weaver does it all the time. “I am a man. A male. Most of the time anyway. Zhem’Cecil.” 

Zhem? 

Oh. 

That thing the Drylanders do to identify themselves to strangers or people they just met. Dart forgot all about it because it’s not a thing Undersea. Every one is every thing in the Kelp forest, so folks tend to just pick randomly unless someone makes it clear they won’t accept anything but a specific identity. It’s rare, but it happens. 

Dart grew up with an octo-kin who insisted she was only she. Sometimes, Dart forgot, and he always felt about it when he did because Olivia looked so sad, so he tried his best to remember. 

Zhem is… he and they, but Cecil prefers masculine pronouns and will occasionally request gender-neutral pronouns. 

Alright. Which makes Dart – he scrunches his forehead. Fuck, he can’t remember the term. 

“I don’t care,” Dart says with a shrug. “I don’t remember what you Drylanders call it, but I don’t. He, she, they, it’s all good. I’m just me.” He tosses a handful of dried fruits into his mouth, grimacing at the gritty taste. He definitely prefers them fresh. 

Cecil stares at him. 

Dart stares back, until something Lucas and Lysia told him knocks at the back of his mind. Drylanders don’t like it when they aren’t told something clearer. Well, at least the ones who respect others don’t. Makes it too stressful. 

“At least call me by my name,” Dart adds, if that helps. “Don’t call me ‘fish’ or any other clever rude nickname. I’ll be happy with that.” He finishes, munches on something that might have been an apple once. What is the term? It’s bothering him that he can’t remember. 

Clare and Telemus had sat him down and lectured him about it for an hour. Well, Clare tried to anyway, but her patience ran out after ten minutes, and she left it to Telemus, who was very sweet about it. 

“Alright, I think I can–” 

“Ala!” Dart sits firmly upright as the word finally pokes through his memories. “Ala’Dart. That’s me. Right?” 

“Right,” Cecil says weakly. He fiddles with his packet of rations, nibbling on it like he doesn’t like the taste anymore than Dart does. “I feel I should apologize for, well, for assaulting you the way I did.” 

“Assault?” Dart rears back and looks down at Cecil, confused. “Uh, you’re a Templar and I’m an Ori, isn’t assault kind of what we do to each other?” 

“Not like that,” Cecil insists, nostrils flaring. There’s something like anger in his eyes now. “Clashing on the battlefield is to be expected. Raping a prisoner is not.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dart holds up his hands and leans back. “Who said anything about rape? I sure didn’t. I don’t think you had any more control than I did.” 

A muscle tics in Cecil’s jaw. “I should have, and that’s my burden to bear. You should have never–”

“First of all,” Dart has to raise his voice to cut Cecil off in the middle of his tirade, which is making Cecil wide-eyed and panicked. Not Good for Dart’s safety. “I didn’t hate it.” 

Cecil’s mouth claps shut so hard Dart swears he heard his teeth click together. He looks like he wants to say something, but also, maybe Vesper has an iron grip on his tongue because he’s not managing a word. 

Dart leans a bit closer and pokes Cecil in the chest. “If I’d seen your pretty face in a bar, you can bet I’d have been flirting with you in a heartbeat.” 

“Second of all,” he continues, gesturing to Vesper and Sirene with his other hand. “If anyone should apologize, it should be those, too.” 

Dart waits to see if said apology arrives, but all he gets is a wave of contrition from his sword. She’s only paying him partial attention, too busy basking in the nearness of her wife. 

“And third of all,” Dart pauses to scoot a little closer. “I’d be fine if it happened again. I just want to be more present for it.” It’s a little white lie. Yes, Dart is desperately attracted to Cecil, but also, there’s a path to freedom in it. 

If he can convince Cecil to come with him back to the Ori, then he doesn’t have to stick around in Shandara any longer than is dangerous for his health. 

Cecil exhales slowly, and then he opens his mouth, just to stretch out his jaw like his muscles ache. “Understood.” He gamely returns his attention to his portion of the rations, but his mouth twists with distaste and he tosses the packet toward his bag. “That doesn’t make us any less fucked.” 

Somehow, hearing the curse from Cecil’s posh, stiff tone is seriously alluring. They’re closer now, and the heat of his skin is far more comfy than the chill creeping into the tent. 

“Explain it to me,” Dart says. He slides his leg over, until his thigh presses to Cecil’s. “I’m new to this stuff. I’ve only had Sirene for a month.” 

“A month?!” Cecil echoes. His jaw drops. “She’s this attached after only a month? How can she begin to understand you?” 

Dart tips the packet back and empties the rest of the rations into his mouth. “I don’t know. She asked to look, I let her, we clicked.” He shrugs and balls up the packet. “It’s been fun.” 

“Fun,” Cecil echoes. He draws up his other leg and rests an arm over the top of it. “You have no idea the value of what you’re holding, do you?” 

Dart huffs a laugh. “Funny, that’s the same thing my dad asked when I showed him Sirene.” He gives Sirene a friendly pat. “I didn’t ask for a history lesson. I don’t care. Sirene’s mine, and I’m keeping her that way.” 

“That goes for both of us, Dart. You’re my person,” Sirene says. Dart would hug her if he could, so he just tries to radiate adoration along that tether of a bond that’s hooked in his heart. 

Cecil gives him a pained look. “She’s ours. She belongs with her people. She–” 

Dart holds up a hand and cuts him off. “Way I hear it, her people are the Ori.” 

“The Ori are terrorists trying to take what was never theirs,” Cecil says through clenched teeth. “But of course, you would not know this. How long have you been out of the sea?”

“Long enough,” Dart huffs. No way is he going to admit to Cecil that it’s been a handful of months at best. “Now tell me what this bond means.” 

Cecil clenches his jaw, lines of tension drawing sharp on his shoulders. He glares at the far wall. “Those who have pacted with a Zivati sword in the Elite always come in pairs among the Templar. If the Zivati share a bond, it is inevitable that their mundane will bond as well, though that bond takes a variety of forms.” 

“That tells me nothing.” Dart wrinkles his nose. “What does it mean? What does it do? I need details, Cecil.” 

“It’s different for everyone,” Cecil says with a great sigh of exasperation. “We won’t want to be far apart, and we’ll always be aware of each other.” He pauses, cheeks going red again. “And, uh, clearly we have a sexual attraction so there’s that.” 

Dart chews on that for a second. It doesn’t sound like the worst, but does it have to be with a Templar? “Is it permanent?” 

“Yes and no.” Cecil shifts to face Dart, though his eyes seem to look everywhere but at Dart. “It’s only permanent so long as you’re bonded to Sirene, or I’m bonded to Vesper.” 

Dart freezes on the inside at the implication. 

“If you chose to willingly end your pact with Sirene, I would release you,” Cecil says, but his voice gets fainter and fainter. His lips are moving, so he must be talking, but Dart can’t hear it over the roaring in his ears. 

Break the bond with Sirene? End their promise to each other? Let her go and be on his merry way? 

“I would understand if you made that choice,” Sirene says quietly. Each word sounds carefully chosen. “I will forever be grateful that you rescued me from the water, and that you’ve brought me back to Vesper. I could never ask that you suffer this for me.” 

Leave Sirene? 

He would be useless to the Ori without her. They’d send him back home, back to the sea, where a half-human child among many is just as useless as a half-mer without a magic sword. Back to his isolated life, on the outside looking in? Giving up the only person who’s ever fully accepted him for what he is? 

“No,” Dart says, maybe aloud, maybe just in his head, maybe only to himself. He’s not sure. “I’m not doing that. I’m not breaking the bond.” 

Sirene’s voice is still soft, but she can’t hide her sadness from him, just as Dart can’t hide his despair from her. “It would be safer.” 

“Safer isn’t better,” Dart hisses. “I came to Dryland because I don’t want to be home. Why are you trying to get rid of me?” There’s heat in his eyes, threatening to spill free, and fuck, the last thing he wants to do is cry in front of the Templar. 

“I’m not!” Sirene insists. “I just want you to be happy!”

Warmth touches Dart’s hand, bringing his focus back to the immediate, to Cecil looking at him with furrowed brow as he says, “Dart?” 

Dart shakes his head, resisting the urge to turn his hand and grab Cecil’s to tangle their fingers together. It doesn’t work anyway, not with the webbing between his fingers. “No. I’m not going to sever Sirene.” 

“I thought you might say that.” Cecil takes his hand back, and Dart tries not to miss his warmth. It’s gotten colder by the second. “The bond is permanent then. High Commander will not be pleased.” 

“Tch.” Dart rubs his palms together to generate some heat. “I don’t care. I’m not giving her up.” Not without a fight. Not willingly. Not while there is breath in his body. 

The place inside him where all of Dart is knotted with all of Sirene pulses an intangible warmth. Like a hug from the inside out. Sirene’s troublesome and a busybody, and Dart never has any privacy with her, but she’s still the best thing that ever happened to him. 

Cecil offers Dart a canteen which he accepts, but not before a tasting swig. It’s plain water, which is both a good thing and unfortunate. Dart could use a few bottles of Gladreel’s home-brewed special right now. 

“There’s a second option, you know,” Dart says as he wipes his mouth and hands the canteen back to Cecil, who wipes the mouth of it before taking a drink himself. “Come back to the Ori with me.” 

Cecil chokes up water mid-swallow. He coughs, splattering it all over the place, and Dart gives him a couple soft whacks just in case. He doesn’t know if it helps, but he saw other Drylander’s do it, so it must accomplish something. 

“No,” Cecil says through the coughing. “That’s not happening.” 

“Worth a try.” Dart’s hand lingers on Cecil’s back, rubbing in slow circles. He’s kind of curious where those wings go. “It just means we’re fucked.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Cecil mutters, almost too low for Dart to catch. “I’m fine now, thank you,” he says, shrugging off Dart’s hand. 

“Oh, right. Sorry.” 

Cecil makes a wordless noise. 

They lapse into silence. Cecil’s staring at the far wall of the tent like it’s got some secret that’s going to get them both out of this mess. Dart has a package of trail rations to finish off. Some kind of smell is floating in from outside the tent, carried on the frigid breeze. It’s cooked flesh, and while Dart usually prefers his meat closer to raw, even cooked meat sounds appetizing. 

Far more than the trail rations anyway. He’s not about to get up and go looking for it, or ask Cecil to fetch it for him either. Weirdly, he’s not interested in Cecil moving out of his sight. The idea gives him chills that have nothing to do with the press of icy air. 

“It’s the bond,” Sirene says. “You’ll get used to it.” 

Dart crunches hard on a piece of over-baked oats. “I don’t want to get used to it. I don’t want to be a Templar.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because!” 

Dart grinds his teeth, every lesson his friends and his father had given him lurking at the back of his mind. How the Templar had taken over what initially belonged to the Ori. How all of Aeotora had been made by M’ori, their patron goddess. How she now slept, trying to heal, but unable to do so with the blight of the Templar infesting her land. 

The Templar kill and lie and steal and destroy. They are nothing but selfish heathens who even now, seek to find more allies to ensure their domination, and then spread their kind across all of Sistara. 

They are monsters. 

“Cecil’s not,” Sirene says. 

Dart rolls his eyes at her. “He’s Templar. Of course, he is. Just because he bonded with Vesper doesn’t make him a nice person.” 

“Dart, my previous wielder was a Templar. I’ve been a Templar for almost as long as I can remember.” Sirene’s voice takes on a wistful, sad tone. “I know more than you can possibly imagine.” 

“That’s different,” Dart says, and the mental image of Sirene throwing up her hands to stalk in the distant corners of his mind haunts him. 

Dart loves her dearly, but Sirene clearly doesn’t have much choice. If the Templar have been using her, and all the other Zivati swords, for centuries, what is left of the Ori in them? How could any of them remember what they used to be? 

Dart blames Sirene for nothing. 

But he can look at Cecil and blame the Templar for a lot of things. Even if, yes, he’s been fairly polite and accommodating. And he’s fed Dart, and treated his wounds since he woke up without busted ribs. And he protected Dart from his subordinates. 

And– And nothing. 

Dart’s a prisoner. That’s all he needs to know. 

He chomps on the last of the rations as a shiver bows his shoulders. The thin cotton of his shirt is not enough. A blanket would be better, but they’re both sitting on the only blankets available. 

Dart dares scoot the last bit of space over, shamelessly leeching off Cecil’s warmth. Their bonded now, and he’s going to have to rely on Cecil. Might as well get the wooing started. If he’s any chance of surviving this, it’s through staying on Cecil’s good side. 

Fortunately, Dart is well-accustomed to playing the role that keeps him safe. 

At least Cecil’s handsome. Somewhat kind. Tall. Has a nice voice, and pretty hair. Gorgeous eyes. Dart’s never seen purple eyes on a Drylander before. Of course, he’s only ever seen one other gemling, and Aurora has tourmaline horns – big, amber ones with jagged edges.

------

Day Nine Word Count: 3273 Running Word Count: 22536

[kelyon]

Holy shit this is absolutely beautiful! I love how mer-Rumple adores Belle, how so much of what he knows comes back to her. This is so lovely!

Author: Rose Daughter

Prompts: Dark chocolate. Falling in the dark. Constellations.

Group: B

-

Ad Astra

They’re called freckles, apparently.

It had taken Belle some time to figure out what he meant when he said he liked her ‘little dots’. The word tickles him for some reason. It’s a fanciful-sounding thing. Freckles.

The first time he’d laid eyes on her – stretched out on the beach, the brim of her sunhat flopping into her eyes – he thought she might be made of alabaster. The same pearly gypsum as the statues he has found amongst the remnants of shipwrecks. He knows better now, having observed her so intimately. She is lovelier, far more fascinating than the unblemished stone of sculptures. There is such detail to her; the silvery streaks on her thighs and stomach, a few faded scars here and there, and all those gorgeous freckles.

She is the inverse of the night sky. If the sky is soot and coal with tiny pinpoints of light, she is cream and roses, stippled with ink stains. They form wee patterns on her skin like the stars overhead. Constellations, Belle called them. They’ve spent many afternoons lying in the sand, him dripping seawater onto the cover of her mythology book. The names bewitch him. Cassiopeia, Ophiuchus, Andromeda, Vulpecula. They’re prettier than the sort of human language his ears are accustomed to. Their lyrical quality resembles the sounds that his fellow Finfolk trill to one another beneath the waves.

Rumple likes to get her words right. He likes to get them wrong, too. He even does so on purpose, sometimes. Just to hear her darling giggle. Just to watch her plush, pink lips tenderly sound out each syllable as she corrects him. But his tongue takes quickly to the delicate names in her gilded book.

The constellations on Belle’s body don’t match the ones charted on the pages. They are entirely her own. It’s a game that he likes to play with himself on the sunniest, drowsiest afternoons. As Belle frolics in the surf and sunbathes on the low tide’s dense sand, he amuses himself by playing astronomer. It requires a great deal of imagination, but then, doesn’t all stargazing?

Lunaris; the cluster on her inner forearm that bears a striking resemblance to a crescent moon. Then there is Florens Rosa; a speckling that contours the back of her neck, each dot falling into place to create the illusion of a rose in bloom. And his very favorite, Saltatio Delphinus; the abstract likeness of a leaping dolphin on her upper thigh.

Every night, long after she’s returned to her cottage, Rumple peers through the mouth of his little grotto. He scans the stars to see if the Gods have plagiarized from Belle’s canvas. To see if they are brave enough to try to replicate one of her designs.

They never are.

(+++)

As a young boy, no larger than a seal pup, Rumple used to thrill-chase by diving into the seemingly bottomless trenches that cut into the seafloor. The blue of the water would get darker and darker as he plunged down, until he was floating in an empty, inky blackness. It was like being swallowed up by the maw of some ravenous predator. His vision would swim as he sank away from the surface, his small body too fragile to handle the pressures of such deep water. Yet, he would push on.

It was exhilarating. To free fall through the darkness, to do something he wasn’t built for.

Finfolk aren’t meant to dive so deep, but he did. They aren’t meant to liberate and hoard human trinkets. They aren’t meant to steal pretty human lasses.

But is that truly what he’s done? Stolen her? It certainly doesn’t feel like stealing. How can you steal what is so freely and happily given? How can you steal what is served on a silver platter, garnished with shortbread crumbs and cheeky smiles?

She was there throughout the summer, when the sunlight made her auburn hair burn like the bonfires the villagers build on the beach. And she is still here amid winter’s grasp, when the heavy clouds cast her in soft focus and the rain extinguishes the embers in her hair.

Every time he lays eyes on her, it is like diving into those trenches again. The disorientation, the vertigo, the intoxicating thrill. To be thoroughly overwhelmed and still want more.

Belle is an abundance of more, always willing to provide and spoil. Butterscotch and blackberries. Jokes, chats, and out-of-tune songs. Early morning breakfasts and late afternoon lunches. Stories of all sorts, bound in leather and paperboard.

And Rumple always takes without hesitation, for fear that there will come a day when there is nothing left to give.

(+++)

Most days, Rumple awaits her arrival in his grotto, tucked into the shadows, impishly giddy at the thought of taking her by surprise. On quieter days, when there is no traffic on the beach, he instead lounges in the tide pools, his eyes trained on the bluff’s coastal trail.

He has waited long past sunset today, which is a rarity. Belle finally trots into view over the uplands’ crest, her knapsack heaved over one shoulder, its bulging mouth threatening to spit its contents in exasperation. Her silhouette is otherworldly, the green tartan skirt of her frock looking flimsy as the moonlight passes through it.

Rumple doesn’t have to question if she comes bearing treats. She clambers onto the rocky outcrop to reach him. A small rectangle robed in silver foil is pressed into his wet hands.

He adores the foil, marveling at how it reflects the water’s shimmering surface in its ripples and wrinkles. He does not adore what the foil is wrapped around.

Belle claims it’s chocolate, but he has his doubts.

“It’s dark chocolate,” she explains, nibbling on a square. “It has less sugar and no milk, so it’s sharper. There’s a bitter bite to it.”

“It’s re-volt-ing.”

“You eat raw trout.”

She rolls her eyes, muttering disparaging comments about his palate. Despite her grousing, she is more than happy to polish off half of the chocolate bar by herself. It makes sense to him. Belle likes sharp things; teeth, and claws, and wits.

Rumple doesn’t mind sharp, but he prefers soft; round jawlines, and button noses, and fond scolding. What he can’t stomach is bitterness. It agonizes him that the stories in Belle’s mythology book all start so whimsically and end so brutally. And that no matter how sweet their days are together, it doesn’t change the fact that she’ll always leave him at the end.

She allows the hefty book to continue its slumber in the caverns of her bag. It’s too dark for her deficient human eyes to make out the fancy lettering. Besides, she looks far too tired for narration duty. Her cheeks are stained with a lingering flush of exertion, her eyes dim with sleepy contentment.

“Today was the Cèilidh,” she says, by way of explanation.

Despite her sore legs and weary yawns, he rouses her to perform a final dance for an audience of one. She demonstrates a reel, her skirt flaring around her legs as her bare feet kick up golden puffs of sand.

Rumple doesn’t really need to know what it’s supposed to look like to know that she isn’t very good at it. Her footwork is clumsy and she wobbles as she pivots. She’s even off-time to her own humming.

“Not the most graceful sort, are you?”

Belle lurches to a stop mid-turn, her brows knitting together. “Excuse me?”

“You look rid-ic-ulous.”

“It’s a far cry better than you could do.”

He gives an exaggerated sneer of offense. “You think dancing requires legs? How horren-dous-ly ignorant.”

Her mouth perks into an amused smile. “Show me.”

“A proper dance begs a partner, does it not?” he says, beckoning to her with his talons.

Puckish delight eats up the sweet turn of her lips. She used to make such a fuss about swimsuits. Now, she just gathers the hem of her tartan frock in her fists and lifts it up over her head. She discards it in a careless heap on the rocks.

Next came the perplexing underthings, fiddly-looking clasps coming undone with a flick of her fingers. Rumple drinks her in like a marooned man at a pool of freshwater.

It fills him with pride to be the one allowed to stargaze at the lavish expanse of her pale, pretty sky. To behold the constellations that live beneath sweaters and sensible woolen tights.

She wades into the water, her skin pebbling in the brisk night air. He takes her hands in his own and guides her further into the sea, the waves lazily sloshing against his back. When her toes can barely touch the ocean floor, he winds his arms around her waist. He hauls her into an embrace, thinking of how sailors greet their sweethearts the first moment their boots hit dry land.

Then, with a twist of his fin, he sweeps her legs out from under her, tucking his tail beneath her bent knees. Belle’s squeak of surprise gets lost in a breathless giggle.

He supports her gently, their bare chests flush against one another. The lack of resistance in the water allows them to spin effortlessly, twirling in small, quick circles. There are no fancy steps – no steps of any sort – but Belle begins to absently hum that same Cèilidh melody.

“It sounds better on a fiddle,” she murmurs, as though embarrassed by her rendition.

“I sin-cere-ly doubt that,” he whispers back.

As they spin, weightless and languid, Rumple leans his forehead against hers; his customary vow of adoration. But then, Belle does something strange. She tilts her chin up and presses her mouth to his. As she captures his bottom lip between her own, Rumple lets out a choked gasp, like a human swallowing seawater.

And then it’s over. It was so fleeting, he could have whimpered from the loss.

“Mhm…what…what was that?”

“A kiss.”

So he does what he’s always done when Belle gives him something; he immediately asks for more.

One kiss turns into two, which melts into a third, and a subsequent stream of kisses that come so leisurely, there is no telling where they begin and end. And he’s falling again, into the darkness of the sea’s deepest trench. His head is spinning, his lungs are burning, and still his every thought is ‘more, more, more’.

“You’re very greedy,” she chastises, though there is little heat behind her words.

Rumple flashes his serrated teeth, heartened rather than discouraged. “You shouldn’t give so readily, dearie. A beast may become accus-tomed to taking more than you’re willing to part with.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t let you have.”

And he believes her, his generous Belle.

He is struck with a stroke of brilliance. A kiss could be planted just about anywhere, couldn’t it? What if he were to kiss every last constellation in her sky? He could even tell her all of their names as he goes.

He purrs this idea against her lips. Belle throws her head back, moonlight splashing over her porcelain face, and she sends a laugh up to the true stars above. And then her laughter is smothering him as she gives a greedy beast his fill.

Rumple realizes, huffing a small chuckle of his own, that he might like the flavor of dark chocolate after all. So long as he is tasting it on her tongue.

-

[ryik-the-writer]

CHAPTER 9 - Rapids 

A03

Here’s the continuation on this story that took me three years to get out.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Belle had never known such fear.

She sailed the entire world, faced typhoons and sharks and poachers nearly her entire life, but the creature—the man—she was most afraid of was walking high and dry on land.

And threatening her merman.

Belle’s heartbeat began to escalate as she paced down Storybrooke’s streets, her mind spinning for answers.

This wasn’t something she could go to the police about. What the hell could she say? “Help, my mer-boyfriend is about to be killed by a poacher-pirate guy?”

They’d think she was insane!

But she rather have to plead her case than waste any more time. The clock was ticking.

Luckily Merlin and Ariel were in the kitchen preparing dinner, chatting and laughing.

She watched her friends for a moment, wondering just what they thought of her after her disappearances these last few weeks. She hadn’t been the best towards them lately, and they’d shrugged off her absence beautifully. She owed them the world.

Ariel looked up and grinned widely at the site of Belle.

“Well, look who’s actually home for dinner,” she teased.

“I’ll get the good wine,” Merlin chimed in.

Belle gulped and stepped further into the kitchen, clutching her stomach.

Ariel instantly noticed Belle’s demeanor and placed down the knife she was holding.

“Okay, what’s going on?” she inquired as she led her to a chair.

Merlin killed the heat on the stove, and joined them, his eyebrows raised in concern.

Belle clutched her stomach, nausea threatening to take over.

“Guys,” she began to explain carefully. “I’m…I’m in trouble.”

Merlin’s mouth fell open, automatically misinterpreting Belle’s distress.

"Oh shit, you're pregnant, aren't you?" He gripped the back of the chair he was holding onto tightly, taking in a deep breath to stead his nerves. "It’s fine, we can sue for child support and put it in a college fund to—”

“Damn it Merlin no!” Belle shrieked, covering her face in humiliation.

“Then what’s going on?” Ariel demanded as she stepped in front of Belle.

“This has gone on long enough! You’re gone all day, don’t come home until the middle of the night. Your sunburn and waterlogged but you keep going back to the beach.”

Belle gulped. Ariel wasn’t just angry, she was hurt, and she had rather dealt with her rage than her pain.

Ariel stared at her best friend of over ten years. They’d sailed the world together, survived hurricanes and sharks and god-awful boyfriends. There weren’t secrets between them. Until now that is.

“Please, Belle, just tell me what’s happening to you, what’s going on?” Ariel pleaded. “Whatever it is, I will help you and support you all the way.”

Merlin nodded beside her. They were all in this together.

“It’s…a bit hard to believe,” Belle explained.

Ariel shook her head. “There’s nothing in the world you can say that we won’t believe.”

Belle groaned a bit, looking back and forth between her best friends.

“Okay,” she sighed, knowing this was about to be a bloodbath.

“For the past several weeks, I’ve been befriending and studying a merman off a cove on the beach. And now, Killian Jones, the captain of the ship Eric works on, is trying to hunt and kill him and I need your help to save him.”

The kitchen became so quiet that only the sound of boiling water could be heard. Merlin and Ariel finally exchanged a rather incredulous look.

Belle gasped. “I know it sounds crazy-”

“Actually, it sounds a lot less…odd than what we were expecting,” Merlin shrugged, making a very obvious step to the phone hanging in the kitchen.

“Merlin,” Belle whined.

“We’re just gonna give Dr. Whale a call,” Merlin responded with a tight smile. “Maybe he’s got a good remedy for dehydration…and insanity.”

Belle covered her face, feeling like she really was about to pass out. Rumple was running out of time, and she was a phone call away from ending up in a looney bin!

Ariel looked torn, but determined. Belle knew from experience that she – a championed athletic swimmer – could easily tackle her if she tried to make a quick escape. Judging by the worry on her face and her clenched fists, she might just do that.

She had to be logical, but quick. She had to bring them to her side.

“Guys, wait, please,” she pleaded, earning Merlin’s stare as the phone continued to ring.

She took a deep breath, summoning the courage she needed.

“I know you think I’m crazy, I thought I was too, so I don’t blame you,” she laughed. “But I need you both to believe me, to give me a chance.”

Merlin and Ariel glanced at each other, unconvinced but practical.

“If you could just come with me down to the docks, I can show him to you,” she swore. “Just for a moment? Please, please just trust me.”

Ariel and Merlin looked unconvinced and ultimately she had to be the one to grab the keys and make a decision.

“Five minutes at the sand dunes, and then can we take you to the hospital?”

Belle tensed. They really did think she was crazy.

“Fine,” she agreed hastily, “let’s just go.”

She sprinted to Merlin’s truck, Ariel quick on her heels as if she were trying to make a break for it.

Let them think what they want, Belle thought, as long as they got to Rumple and figured out a plan. She didn’t trust Killian not to make his move early and completely cut her from the equation in the process.

The ride to the beach severely contrast from earlier trips the trio had made. There was no laughter or good-natured banter between them. Just an eerie silence that threatened to silence them all forever.

Belle hated it. She didn’t want to have her best friends in the entire world on the outside. She hated how she had kept them there to begin with.

She'd make this up to them, she promised, but she had to save Rumple first.

Save the merman, make peace with her friends, in that order.

Belle was ready to fly from the truck when they came across the nearly forgotten mass of sand dunes, but Ariel seemed to act as a wall between her and freedom.

“Just…stay close to me, okay?” she inquired, not quite meeting her friend’s eyes.

Belle tried to get the lump in her throat down but failed. Merlin as well looked ready to spring after her.

Belle could have rolled her eyes at their behavior, but she understood in a way where they were coming from.

She thought herself mad sometimes at all this. Merfolk were stuff of legend after all, and the fact that she was up close and personal with one on a daily level still had her in shock.

But she wasn’t crazy, and Rumple was somewhere in the area and she had no choice but to reveal his existence.

The trio skid down the dunes, Belle’s eyes immediately searching for her merman.

The water was quiet, the faint echo of seagulls creating a lullaby over the area.

“Maybe he’s sleeping,” Belle suggested out loud.

“Belle,” Ariel sighed.

“Just…give me a second,” Belle said as she kicked off her shoes. She dodged Ariel’s grasp and eased into the cold water, shivering with anticipation.

She placed her hands above the water, feeling the vibrations from the life underneath it.

Rumple’s life.

“Rumple, please come out.”

A small wave crashed on to her, shaking her but not knocking her down. She looked up and found Rumple staring at her, grinning.

“Back already?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” she said, choking a bit on the relief that Jones hadn’t gotten to him yet.

Rumple noticed her distress instantly. “What is it, Belle?”

As his eyes searched her face, it landed on the other two humans behind Belle, both of who were gaping at them.

“Holy fish!” the female with long red hair said. “Holy actual fish!”

The male human began to shake and slowly eased to the ground.

“That’s a…a…”

“Merman?” Ariel said, just as confused as he was.

Rumple growled at the intruders, hands squeezing Belle’s tighter.

“It’s okay,” Belle assured, fingers grazing over his. “I know they’re strangers, but their friends of mine and they're going to help us.”

“Help us?” Rumple inquired.

Belle grasped his hands, her body shaking from the stress.

“There’s a man after you, Rumple,” Belle explained as the merman’s expression changed. “The same one who hurt your tail.”

Rumple growled. “Where is he? Did he hurt you?”

Belle would spare him the details of her conversation with Jones until later. All she needed right now was for her to agree for him to go with her.

“No, but it’s you he wants, and I can protect you but you have to trust me.”

Gold nodded. Of course he trust her.

Belle motioned for him to stay put and waddled back to sure where her two companions were still gaping.

“So …” she began, motioning to Rumple. “He’s pretty real.”

“No flipping kidding,” said Merlin who had collapsed onto the sand.

“I know you’re both taking this in, but we need to get him out of here.”

Merlin rose up, staring at her incredulously. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

Belle smiled widely. “It’s about time to uncover your pool, right?”

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up. “I beg your pardon, you want to take him to my place?”

Belle dropped down to his level, practically begging him to consider.

“Jones won’t set foot on your property to get Rumple this way,

“And,” Ariel jumped in, shrugging sheepishly. “It’ll create the perfect environment to study him.”

Belle gave her a look.

“To keep a close eye on him, I mean.” Ariel corrected.

Belle shrugged, satisfied. She knew her friend was going science-mode as she had when she first discovered Rumple and meant nothing malicious.

“So what do you say,” Belle inquired to Merlin. “Can we take him home?”

Merlin looked at the hopeful women before him and then at the merman who had yet to lighten his glare.

This all seemed like a very weird fever dream, and one unfortunately that he would not be waking up from any time soon.

Best to just accept it then.

“Fine, but you two better figure out how to get the fish on the back of my truck.”

Belle and Ariel squealed and kissed his cheeks.

“Okay,” Belle gasped, a weight lifting from her chest. “Can we get the truck down here?”

As the trio worked out a way to get Rumple to safety, the merman turned to the horizon where he could just see a ship sailing across the setting sun.

Jones.

Rumple hissed with intense hatred. That man was after him, and his Belle at that!

As Belle beckoned him to the shore, he swore immediate death on the man if he came near her again.

He was not getting his beloved. Not a chance in hell or high water.

[bananaink]

Oh hey in your merman au can aizawa and the others understand the humans and vise versa or do they kinda have to mime things out like in that previous ask where you said hizashi gave eri prosthetic fins how exactly would he communicate that to her and aizawa without having aizawa rip his hands off for trying to touch her

It’s kind of like meeting a new, intelligent species and figuring out how to communicate with each other.

In my Au mer-people communicate mostly by high frequencies (like dolphins, whales) and body language. Their eye-sight is very good (at least the ones living close to the surface) and their voices very loud if they want to (like deaf cats crying for treats). Humans obviously aren’t made for clicks and whines and whistling (and constant screaming), so they can’t communicate like that. But only because we can’t understand them doesn't mean they are dumb - so there is some research about mer-people communication and behavior and how to get basic things across.

Most of that research depends heavily on the cooperation of the mer-person and they tend to be very closed off and shy. Also, a vast majority of the research has come from working with captive mer-people which is not really representative because of the different outcomes. (some mer only tried to get the treats at the end of the tests or actively sabotage the research by changing every answer - which pointed to high intelligence).

Izuku and his team is not the first to try and establish some kind of relationship with a wild mer, but they are one of the first to actually succeed in teaching Aizawa a way to communicate so they can understand each other. Aizawa is only interested in keeping the humans away from his place but Eri is very eager to learn and keeps asking to meet with Izuku and Mirio - they are so fun! And bright! So many pretty things to see and eat! You should try them!

And he cant say no, not when they proved themselves to be actually good and nice, Eri won’t let him get away with ‘these people are noisy and dangerous’ anymore. Especially when she sees him dunk Hizashi under the water all the time and only getting a spluttered complain in return.

Well, long story short, they basically settle for sign language and it takes a looong while for some cultural differences to make sense. But they manage and in the end Eri even tries to get her voice to squeak Izukus and Mirios name :’D

Izuku, gently holding a squeaking Eri under her arms while Hizashi straps her fins on, cries at the first “Izu, Izu, Izu” :’D

[ladytauria]

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

(Bcs i wanna see as much as you’ll give 😔👍)

<3333 thank you so much~ that’s very sweet of you! i’m happy to show you a few things~ i hope you like!! <3

—

Somehow, for some reason, Tim has become someone that Jason trusts. Trusts to have his back in the field. Trusts to handle information for him; to help him with cases. Trusts to patch up, if or when things go wrong.

It’s humbling still. He never thought he would have this.

(from a 5+1 jaytim fic)

—

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. “I want to help.”

The mer growls. It’s a low, threatening sound—almost like a hum. If Tim was in the water, he’s sure he’d be able to feel it in his bones. “Fuck off. I don’t need your help.”

Untrue. There’s no way the mer can escape the net on his own, and there are still a few more hours before high tide will sweep him back to sea. Not that Tim is convinced he’ll be able swim even once he gets back into the water, but—still. He needs help, whether he wants to admit it or not. Tim knows this has to be terrifying, but… he can’t do nothing.

(for the jaytim prompt, “mermaid”. i didn’t get it finished in time, obvs, but i’m chipping away at it)

—

His gaze is drawn back for the nth time. This time, he gets a good look as Tim lifts his shirt to wipe his brow, drawing Jason’s attention to the muscles of his abdomen. Jason’s throat goes dry.

And then a water bottle enters his field of vision. Jason goes cross-eyed for a moment, looking at it, before he follows the arm extending it to Steph, her hip propped against his table, sly grin on her face.

“Brought you some water,” she says, entirely too chipper for Jason’s liking. “You’re lookin’ pretty thirsty.”

Jason’s face flames. He snatches the water and unscrews the cap. “Shut up,” he mutters. Whose idea was it to put the workstations so close to the training area, anyway?

(another piece for jaytim week xD this one combined all 3 prompts from day two)

—

It takes a few minutes for Timothy to join him. When he does, he looks slightly out of breath, his outer coverings rumpled. He’s not wary the fancy-coverings, like he had the first day, but instead looser ones. He smiles again, close-lipped, and approaches the water cautiously. Jason doesn’t smile, but its a near thing.

Then—he does something strange.

He lifts his chin, exposing the soft skin of his throat, and turns his wrists towards Jason.

Jason’s breath catches for a moment.

A sign of submission, used by mer to show another they mean no harm. How—

It doesn’t matter. Jason rises from the water and grabs the human by his throat, pushing him to the ground. The human stills—but he doesn’t fight. Jason can feel the thumpthump-thumpthump of his pulse beneath his claws.

He squeezes. The scent of blood tints the air. The human remains still, tensing only slightly, staring at him with eyes ocean-blue. They stay there, suspended. For how long Jason doesn’t know. He doesn’t squeeze any tighter. The human makes no sound, makes no move to fight, just stays still and pliant.

No one comes to help him.

(snippet from the very first jaytim fic i started writing!)

—

(putting this one under a cut!)

the boy fidgets for a second, and says, with conviction, "peter."

tim just nods, despite being sure it's a lie. he's good at sniffing those out—always has been. it's almost definitely his 'working name', which turns tim's stomach, but he ignores it. it and the green in the corners of his vision.

"well, peter," he says. "i don't know if you've heard, but... i've got a bit of a thing against children standing street corners."

the boy looks shifty again, before screwing his face up in something like disgust. "what, the red hood's against loitering now?" he asks, defiant.

tim, despite himself, laughs. it feels... good. it's been a while since he laughed at something... normal. "you know damn well that's not what i meant," he says, but it comes out more amused than anything else. "but sure, kid. i'm against loitering. and i think you and i need to have a chat."

(finishing things off with a gen!fic! reverse robins, tim ends up being the one to take jay in. inspired by an iselsis fic—i’d link the exact one but my internet is being funny)

[pixiedust-designs]

DEEP DIVE

Part 3? To the Merbur au. Promised a next part to this so here it is.

(Warnings: safe vore, talk of non safe vore, doesn’t happen, swearing, talk of death)

———————————————————————

Truthfully? It could’ve gone worse. After arguing for what seemed like hours, Tommy finally got what he wanted. Well kinda. He could still go see the giant mer as long as Techno went along too. Tommy wished he could go by himself, but it was better then not going at all. Phil and Techno didn’t trust Willbur at all. But Tommy was hoping with Techno hanging out with him and Willbur that would make him realize Willbur wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Tommy ran down to the beach Techno behind him yelling at him to slow down. But there was no way he was going to listen. He hadn’t seen Will in days now. He had his serf board with him as he ran into the water. “Willbur!” He screamed to let the giant know they where here.

Techno grumbled as he ran after Tommy. God the kid was fast. Tommy had said to bring the surf boards even if Techno hadn’t used his in over a year. He got down to the beach glaring at Tommy who was already out on his board. He couldn’t keep an eye on him if he ran off ahead of him. He swam out on his board to be next to Tommy. “Do not run off like that. This isn’t going to work if I can’t keep an eye on you.” He told him hitting his shoulder.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t even out of you eye sight.” He looked down to see if he could see the shadow of Willbur beneath them. He frowned not seeing him yet. “Willbur?!” He called out again. Maybe he didn’t hear him?

Willbur quickly swam to where Tommy normally was. He had sensed him more then he had heard the human. He could also tell Techno, Tommy’s brother was with him. He smiled looking up to see the outline of two humans of those floating things. He swam up splashing the human as he surfaced. “Quit yelling, I’m here.” He smiled.

Tommy laughed happily as he got splashed. “Hey!” He yelled. He looked to Techno who didn’t look happy about being here. Tommy ignored him.

Willbur was glad to see Tommy again. This was only the second time they had been able to see each other after they got caught. He wanted Techno to like him, but that was providing to be very different. “So what you want to do?” He asked keeping everything but his head under the water.

“We got our boards so I thought we could surf.” Tommy said. Willbur might not be able to surf with them. But the giant liked to watch.

“That sounds good.” Willbur nodded. He then froze sensing another mer in the area. He hoped it wasn’t who he thought it was. He turned to look out at the ocean.

“Will? What’s wrong?” Tommy asked seeing his face suddenly turn from happy to worried.

“There’s another mer….” Willbur said. “Not a good one.” He added.

“Another one?!” Techno asked. “What does that mean?” He was worried now too looking at the giant mer.

“It means it’s not safe here for you.” He looked at Tommy the both of them sharing a look. He needed to protect the humans.

“Well then Let’s go back.” Techno said trying to paddle back to the beach. They where a lot farther out then he had thought though… There was a giant hand pulling his board back. He yelled in surprise almost falling off.

“Sorry.” Willbur said. He didn’t want to scare Techno, but he might have too.

“It’ll take to long to get back.” Tommy said now on full alert. He looked around making sure he couldn’t see another giant in the waves.

“We can try! What else are we supposed to do?!” Techno yelled. “Can’t you’re friend here fight it off?” He glared up at the giant mer. They where stuck out here with giant sea monsters and he couldn’t protect Tommy.

“I’m not much of a fighter.” Willbur sighed. “And they are bigger then me.” He felt bad for Techno. What he was planning would definitely scare him.

Techno grumbled. “How can you not fight?” He muttered. He couldn’t even imagine a bigger mer then this one.

Willbur looked at Tommy. “Do you know what I’m thinking?” He asked.

Tommy nodded recognizing the look Willbur had. It was the same look he had when they first meet. “I- I do.” Just because he know they would be okay didn’t make it any less nerve racking.

“What are you two talking about?” Techno asked confused. He looked between the giant and his brother.

“Willbur can protect us put you’re not going to like it.” Tommy said looking nervously at Techno.

“What does that mean?! You are not making any sense.” He crossed his arms. He did not like the way the giant was looking at him.

“Him first?” Willbur asked not answer Techno’s question.

“I think that’s best.” Tommy agreed. Techno didn’t need to see his brother get eaten. And Techno would probably try to attack Willbur.

Willbur nodded with a sigh. He had never picked up Techno before. “Sorry.” He said reaching for the pink haired human. He wrapped his hand around him picking him up off his board.

Tommy winced hearing Techno screaming his head off. Maybe they should’ve explained…

Techno screamed as he was picked up in a giant hand. What was going on?! He pushed against the hand wrapped around him. He couldn’t struggle much in the tight hold. “Stop! What are you doing!?” He yelled looking at the giant as he was brought up to it’s face.

“I’m so sorry, but you’ll be ok!” Willbur said holding Techno close to his face. “I’ll eat you then I’ll eat Tommy. You’ll be ok together.” He said like that fixed anything.

“Eat?!” Techno screeched. “Don’t you dare!” He looked completely terrified. He struggled even more. “I thought you said you wouldn’t hurt us!” He yelled as he was shoved into the giant mers mouth.

Willbur didn’t know what to do with Techno yelling. He wasn’t listening. He didn’t know what else to do, so he shoved Techno into his mouth and closed it around the human. He looked down at Tommy a little panicked.

Tommy watched in shock as Willbur just put his brother into his mouth. He did it so easily. He shook his head get rid of all the bad things he was thinking. Techno would be fine. He sighed looking up at Will, he looked so nervous. “Just swallow, I’ll explain it to him later.”

Willbur nodded not being able to talk. He licked over the now sobbing and screaming human in his mouth. He winced as Techno punched his tongue. He tilted his head back and swallowed.

This couldn’t be happening. Techno thought even as he was swallowed down by the giant monster. But everything around him told him it was. He had tried to fight back, make the giant spit him out. But he had just been swallowed like nothing. He couldn’t move as he was pulling down to the stomach. As soon as he fell into the more open space he got up and tried to as far from the middle as possible. He hit the walls around him. He knew it wouldn’t do anything though.

Tommy couldn’t watch as Willbur swallowed Techno. He knew he was safe, but it still looked…wrong. He gasped as he felt Willbur wrapped his hand around him. He was carefully lifted up to his face. He didn’t struggle like Techno.

“You ok?” Willbur asked softly. Tommy looked more nervous then scared.

“Yeah I’m ok big guy.” He smiled. Willbur and him had only done this once. And he didn’t know what was happening then. He patted Willbur’s nose. “Let’s do this so I can talk to my brother.”

“Ok.” He more gently placed Tommy on his mouth. He quickly snapped his mouth closed sensing the other mer geting closer. He licked over Tommy so he could swallow him easily. He wished he didn’t have to rush as he swallowed the young human. He ducked back under the water swimming farther out to sea.

Tommy closed his eyes as he felt Willbur swallow. He kept his body limp not wanting to hurt Will. He soon fell into a open space. Before he could even call out for Techno suddenly he was being hugged. He gasped as Techno held into him tightly. Techno never hugged Tommy like this…this was bad.

Techno couldn’t even talk properly as he hugged Tommy close. He couldn’t keep his little brother safe. “I’m so sorry Tommy, I said I’d keep you safe.” He rambled. Would Phil even know what happened? He’d wait for them to come home but they never would…

“Whao! Ok Techno, it’s ok Will’s not going to hurt us!” He said wrapping his arms around Techno’s back. “Let me explain.”

Techno pulled away. Did Tommy really believe that this monster wasn’t bad?! “Tommy no! We are literally in the monsters stomach! This is not safe!” He yelled. Tommy had to be in shock.

“No we are safe! And Willbur’s not a monster!” He tried to push Techno off of him. “Get off of me you ass!”

Techno packed off from Tommy. “What in the world makes you think that this is ok? We are going to die! We are just food to it, we’re not going-“

“No we are not! Just shut the hell up and I’ll explain!” Tommy screamed over Techno.

Techno snapped his mouth close, shocked at Tommy’s words.

Tommy sighed taking a second to calm down. “We are safe here because we are not in a stomach.” He glared as Techno went to say something. He closed his mouth again. “Willbur it’s human he was one stomach that’s got all the nasty stuff. And he has a storage stomach, or broding pouch. Whatever you want to call it.” He rubbed the wall next to him. “Point is, that we are safe and Willbur’s protecting us from the other mer who would have eaten us for real.”

Techno listened to Tommy trying to process what he said. It kinda made sense…. Willbur seemed to really care about Tommy it didn’t make sense for it- him, to just eat the both of them. “How do you know all this then?”

“Ummm… remember when I said Willbur saved me? Well this is what he did to save him when we first meet.” He smiled nervously.

“You’ve done this before? He’s eaten you before?!” Techno yelled before calming himself. “Sorry, I’m stressed.” He rubbed his temples. He went and set down next to Tommy. “This is really safe?” He asked more softly.

“Yep.” He nodded rubbing the silky wall. He smiled hearing a rumpling purr from Willbur. “See? He’s just keeping us safe then he’ll let us out when it’s safe.”

Techno grumbled finally excepting that it was probably fine. He patted the wall next to him. He now felt a little bad throwing such a fight now. Only a little. “Couldn’t have explained before he ate me?” He shoved Tommy’s shoulder.

“Would you have let him if we explained before hand?” He shoved back.

“No, but at lest you could have told me what was happening.” He poked Tommy’s face.

“You’re such an-“ Tommy was about to say before something pressed up against their backs. He smirked as Techno tensed up. “Scared?” He teased.

Techno rolled his eye. “Shut up.” He relaxed realizing it was Wilbur’s hand pressing up against them.

Tommy chuckled before getting comfortable snuggling up to the soft and warm flesh around them. “Get comfortable, we don’t know how long we’ll be here.” He told Techno.

“It better not be to long.” He huff. But he did get more comfortable. He would never say it, but it was kinda comfortable. If he ignored where he was. They didn’t talk much more just laying there listening to Wilbur’s breathing and heart beat as the giant mer swam through the ocean swaying them back and forth.

Willbur swam to the deeper part of his territory where he wouldn’t be bothered. He kept a hand over where he could feel the light weight of the two humans curled up in his brooding pouch. He was glad Tommy had managed to calm his brother down. Techno wouldn’t have been able to do much more then give him a sore stomach. But he hated scaring him to the paint where he thought Willbur was going to kill the both of them.

He rested at the bottom of a trench where he knew no human would be able to get to without a special metal ship. He hoped Techno wouldn’t be to mad went he let them out. He was worried he wouldn’t let Tommy visit anymore. But they could figure that out later. Right now he was happy to keep his two little humans safe.

[atypicalacademic]

s e a c h a n g e

No sea in this, but. Yknow. May I offer some Alsal/Aranea?

*

"You are leaving, then?"

Dawn was a sharp sting no different from the cold, seeping through the half-opened window, it's magic-dulled tendrils a lingering brush against her cheek. Curious how she had once felt it less acutely when she'd slept in her tent, with naught but duty and dreams to keep her company at Azura's feet.

But then again, this wooden cabin was meant for two.

Straightening the folds of their shawl to drape it twice over their arm, Alsal caught her gaze in the mirror, an eyebrow raised. "Changed your mind about not coming along, have you?"

Aranea shook her head. It wasn't a demand, barely even an ask. And yet, an odd, quiet guilt sat at the edge of the bed, watched imperceptibly from the walls that would feel all too bare when they shut the door behind them. Perhaps, if they ask once more, only once more, the fraying thread of reason that reminded her of her duty to these mountains, to this cold, barren land, to them, would prove too frail to withstand the silence that follows.

Or perhaps she was growing old.

She picked a stray thread of their robe from the rumpled sheets beside her. Crimson brightening to gold, like a silken strand of sunrise. "I wish you would stay for another day."

"And trust the rabble to run themselves? Perish the thought." Alsal scoffed, shaking their hair away from their face. It fell in wild curls down to their waist, held loosely in it's bejeweled clasp. "You're lovely, Aranea, but we both need Blacklight intact."

She couldn't help but laugh. That pride of theirs was an anchor. She was scarce the only mer to moor her hope to it's tether, to rest her endurance against it's shore.

"Write to me." They said. "Let me know if you need something. I've told Zennat to keep an eye out."

They paused at her bedside, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Their thumb traced a wrinkle at the edge of her nose.

Two hundred years. Two hundred more.

"Alsal," Aranea reached across the silence of gods and caught their hand in hers. "Haven't you done enough?"

Their eyes softened. The iron fist at Redoran's helm was but skin and warmth between Aranea's fingers. Only a hand, roughened from war and the ceaseless toil of rebuilding, only one, like hers, that bore the scars of Azura's love, only the salt and ash of the sun's return, the last surety in a storm-tossed sea. One day, they would bury her with it.

When she pressed her lips beneath the moon-and-star, Alsal was almost, almost mortal.

Alsal dipped down to kiss her forehead, their touch lingering at her cheek. When they pulled away, their ageless face was the sun, again, the sun with eyes of raw ruby, dusted with freckles she never tired of tracing between her fingertips. Their smile was again a sudden thing, reckless and sharp as a bolt of lightning.

"I'll have done enough when I'm dead."

Palm still cradling the empty air between them, Aranea sighed.

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Jewel of the Sea: Chapter 18: A Long Overdue Talk

Chapter 17

Word Count: 1,594

Virgil woke the next morning curled around Elliott, who was trying to get out of bed. Virgil gave a soft groan before untangling their tails and rolling over. “Five more minutes.”

Elliott laughed. “Looks like someone got used to sleeping in.”

Virgil sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and floating slightly before sinking back down into the natural bed. “What time is it?”

“Just past nine.”

Virgil nodded, and moved to grab a fresh covering from the closet. He opened his jewelry box for the first time in a few moons and decided to go all out. He was home, he was royalty, and he wanted to show it. Before he slid the first armband on, his eyes caught on the bracelet Roman had given him. His smile was tinged with sadness at the edges but he kept it on, brushing his thumb over it. “Thank you.” He whispered.

“What was that?” Elliott asked as they turned back around.

Virgil shrugged. “Nothing. Nothing, let’s get to breakfast.”

They headed down to the dining room and took their places. Virgil’s mother commented on him being gone longer than normal but the family was used to him disappearing for moons at a time so no one made too big of a deal out of it.

Toby and Ember were talking about Ember’s crush and how she thought a Necklace was in her future. Nate and Jasper were discussing plans for the crops. Andy, as usual, was just sitting off to the side. Virgil bumped their shoulders together as he sat. “How are you doing?”

Andy just leaned his head on Virgil’s shoulder. “I should be asking you that.”

Virgil chuckled. “I’ll be fine. How have you been holding up?”

Andy closed his eyes, looking exhausted. Virgil knew his twin like his own mind and there was something they needed to talk about. “I’ve been taking it one day at a time, Virgie. Don’t worry about me.”

Virgil laughed. “It’s my job to worry about you, silly.” He squeezed his twin’s hand as they began the meal. “We’ll talk about that later, okay?”

After the meal, Andy said he was going to be in his room so Virgil went to the garden to try to sketch out the Necklace design. He picked up the slate and writing utensils, bemoaning the loss of paper and pencil. Just as he was getting somewhere with the drawing, a knock sounded at the arch.

He looked up, hair floating in the midmorning current. “Yes?”

One of the royal guards was there, looking slightly annoyed. “Someone found a royal-finned out by the edge of town. He says he wants to talk to you.”

Virgil nodded, putting his drawings and thoughts aside. “Send him in, won’t you?” He tried to put on the princely mask he’d always worn for affairs of state like this but he found that it was eerily similar to the polite mask he’d worn at the party. An event he would rather not think of at the moment.

He had no idea who he was expecting to see but it certainly wasn’t the very person, the very human, he was trying to forget. Logan swam in, his hair a mess the current had used as a toy, his shirt rumpled and barely coming far enough down, and his legs in the form of an indigo tail that, despite Virgil’s best efforts, his brain categorized as complementary to his own and a color that looked very nice on the human prince. Logan smiled at him, his hand coming up for a tentative wave. It was the meekest Virgil had ever seen him and, despite all that had happened in the past day, it hurt.

Part of him was elated to see him again, to know that he was here with him instead of with the-. He couldn’t bear to finish that sentence. Instead, he waved the guard away and rose to stand. “What are you doing here? Better question, how did you get here?”

Logan didn’t respond, his eyes scanning Virgil. The mer crossed his arms, acutely aware of just how many bands he had and how few rings. When Logan’s eyes met his again, the human took a deep breath with a wince, clearly not used to breathing water.

“It started at the cliff. I talked with the . . . entity that you gave the stone to. They gave me a tail for three days and I set off to find you. So, I swam for what must have been three hours before time and exhaustion caught up with me and I fell asleep. I woke to a . . .” His voice trailed off as he searched for the right word before eventually just gesturing to Virgil’s tail.

“Mer. We’re called ‘mer’.” Virgil supplied in a tone that conveyed more anger than the hurt he truly felt at seeing Logan here.

“Right, a mer. She asked me which blessing I came from and where my contingent was, claiming she’d never seen me in town before. I have no idea what she meant by blessing so I just asked for you and they brought me here.”

Virgil held up a hand. “What name did you ask for specifically?”

“Virgil. I asked to see a Virgil. I described the purple tail and the side fins,” he gestured to the ones that lined his own sides, “and they brought me here.”

Virgil nodded. “And why are you here?”

Logan frowned, awkwardly moving forward until he was as close as Virgil normally allowed. “Why wouldn’t I be here?” His tone made him sound as if he had no idea what he’d done wrong.

Virgil scoffed, throwing his arms wide. “Maybe because you played with my feelings for a few moons before asking to kiss someone else?”

Logan huffed out a breath, turning to the side slightly before turning back. “How about the lying? How about the consorting with that entity, leading me on all summer, the fake amnesia? How much of that was the truth?” He paused, hurt in his eyes. “Do you even truly care for me?”

That made Virgil snap, his heart shattering. “Out of all the questions to ask!” He had to take a second to run a hand down his face, batting at his floating hair. “Do you even know what I’ve been through in the past day, let alone the past four moons?” He paused for breath, sending a glare toward Logan when the human opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve been captured by pirates who wanted to sell me for profit, made a deal for my life with Remy, faked amnesia just to get that trinket of a necklace, fallen in love with a human and I might as well have betrayed my entire blessing in the process!” Only at the end did Virgil realize he’d been raising his volume the whole time and was now shouting at someone he’d once thought he’d never hurt.

Logan opened his mouth to give a rebuttal but paused. “Fallen in love? How would you be betraying your entire blessing by doing so?” His voice was softer and at a lower volume.

Virgil shook his head, feeling the headache that comes with tears. His voice was shaky but he managed. “No. You don’t get to hear all of my secrets and pain while I know you’re in love with someone else.”

“But I’m not!” Logan ran a hand through his hair uselessly. “I thought he was you!” This was quiet, barely drifting to him.

It was Virgil’s turn to pause, hand reaching to rub his aching eyes. “What?”

“It’s a story that most people would question the sanity of but suffice it to say that the person you saw, or think you saw, was a shapeshifter using your likeness.”

The space was silent for a time before Virgil sniffled. “Does that mean . . .?”

Logan nodded, coming just shy of Virgil’s personal space. “I had wanted to ask if I could kiss you before I professed undying love.”

Virgil smiled, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “Is it too late to accept the kiss?”

Logan shook his head as his hands came up to cradle Virgil’s cheeks. Virgil’s head dipped down and their lips connected. In that moment, Virgil could have sworn time had stopped. The kiss was sweet and short but it was also everything Virgil had dreamed it would be even before he’d known he wanted it.

“Now,” Logan said when they broke the kiss, “what was that about you betraying your blessing? And, what is a blessing?”

Virgil settled back down in his seat on the sea moss, turning the slate over and hiding the picture that now served a new purpose. “A blessing is a group of mer.” He waited as Logan settled by his side, tails intertwining. “The reason I might have betrayed my blessing by falling for you is that I was willing to give up my life here and live with you on the land. Typically, once a mer chooses to leave their blessing, they aren’t allowed back in.”

Logan took his hand and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of it. “I’m grateful that you are willing to do that.”

Virgil leaned into him, his free hand sliding through the water to hover over Logan’s cheek. The human leaned into his palm and Virgil could have melted. “May I kiss you?” Virgil’s voice was a whisper that was almost a purr.

Logan smiled and leaned in.

Chapter 19

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[ao3feed-twistedwonderland]

tendrils and tidal waves

tendrils and tidal waves by serenescribe He’s trying to leave the area, pushing and shoving his way through the endless sea of patrons, when a sudden shrill cry stops him in his tracks. Lilia’s ears twitch. His head snaps to the side, following the source of the sound, only to come across a small group crowding around a rickety wooden stage. A tall man dressed in a patchwork suit jacket and a rumpled collared shirt talks to them all, gesturing animatedly with his hands. But it is what the man is gesturing at that snatches away Lilia’s breath. Because next to him, curled up in a too-small tank filled with muddied water, is a tiny little mer. Little tendrils of its tail tangle together as the creature presses thin fingers against the glass panes of the tank, auroral eyes flicking from side to side with a fervent desperation that Lilia feels in his soul. It is too young to be here, too small. Why in the name of the Thorn Fairy is this child here? Words: 2796, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Silver (Twisted-Wonderland), Lilia Vanrouge Relationships: Silver & Lilia Vanrouge Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Jellyfish Mer Silver, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Rescue Missions, Accidental Child Acquisition, Protectiveness read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/gafvVNs

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

“ why did you stop loving me? ” with mer 🥺 angsty af

Just remember, y’all request this shit. It’s dark and painful, but if I put specific warnings, it’ll ruin the story. So, do please proceed with caution. 

* * * * *

July in Louisiana meant there were only two tolerable times of the day to be outside: before the sun rose and after the sun set. Merriell had left at dusk, and now here you sat, quietly watching the crepuscular shadows along the bank of the stream and beneath the low branches of the live oak, waiting for dawn’s light to chase them away.

With a heavy sigh, you wished something as simple as the sun could chase away the shadows that clung to your heart as you thought about where your husband had spent the night.

The chittering birds told you it was officially dawn, their little bodies waking up to bounce through the branches of the oak. While watching the morning unfold, you remembered how hesitant you had been to move this deep into the south, but Merriell had promised there was no better place, no more peaceful place in all of Louisiana to set up a home.

You guessed maybe that was it: home had become too peaceful for him, too good for him, and like all the good things in Mer’s life, he knew it would come to an end. It was a true shame he never realized it was actually his own hand that caused all of the destruction that seemed to plague him.

A few months ago, Merriell had spent his first night away from home; in the morning, he was drunk, apologetic and sweet and even though you took pause, you decided it was a fluke. It was just one of those times when Merriell needed to feel free, like he still had complete control over his life.

The second time, your intuition knew something was wrong. It wasn’t about riding around with the boys, or about gambling and drinking. After that second time and without your conscious consent, your mind planted the seed that it wasn’t about a something at all . . . it was about a someone.

You spent nights three, four, and five weeding that damned seed, over and over again, but it had permanent roots. After the sixth time, you gave up and just let it grow, nourishing it with every doubt you’d ever had.  

And last night, well last night had made seven.

You figured that the seventh time was the best time to confront Merriell. Afterall, God rested on the seventh day, and you knew God didn’t want to be around for this.

The sun rose over the horizon, bathing the lawn in a blue-pink glow as Mer’s truck crept into the driveway. Your tears had been shed hours ago and you swore to yourself that he wouldn’t get to see you cry.

Shifting on the porch swing, you tucked your legs under your body and ran your hands apprehensively over your thighs, stopping to adjust your wedding ring and realizing for the first time since Merriell had slipped the gold band on your finger that it felt itchy—like the skin underneath couldn’t breathe.

Maybe that was it? Merriell’s domestic skin just got too itchy and he needed to scratch it.

You hoped it was a satisfying scratch because you already knew there wouldn’t be a chance for another. The second he stepped out on you, your marriage was over. Merriell had once loved your confidence, your acknowledgment of your own self-worth, but maybe it was too much to handle for a man who seemed to have a streak of self-hatred that he just couldn’t shake.

Yes. Maybe that was it.

Merriell stopped in his tracks when he saw you on the porch and you watched as his eyes darted back to his truck, a glance of apprehension, whether to stay or flee clearly written across the face you used to find beautiful.

When your gaze didn’t waver, Mer knew the choice had been made for him, so he took a deep breath, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Your eyes raked over the way his clothes were rumpled, obviously having spent the night on someone else’s floor.

He stopped at the edge of the porch and leaned against the railing, head bent, his hands still in his pockets. You could see they were shaped into fists and the tension rolled off of him, along with the smell of her.

“Vaginal secretions. They’re pretty pungent, you know.” Your voice came out strong and clear, completely disguising the shadows of disgust that squeezed your heart.

Merriell didn’t raise his head, but the muscles in his forearms flexed.

“The first five times you showered before you came ho—” you stopped yourself. This wasn’t anyone’s home anymore. “Before you came back here. Since you’ve stopped for nights six and seven, I just assumed you didn’t give a fuck if I knew.”

Still, he kept his head down, fists balled in his jeans’ pockets. His scuffed boots toed at one of the knots in the porch’s floorboards.

“Why did you stop loving me?” you asked in a rush, emotion edging over the words that had been running through your mind since night two.  

Merriell did look up at that question, his eyes filled with tears and you were appalled that your first instinct was to comfort him.

To comfort him!

No. Instead, you scratched at the skin beneath the band of your wedding ring, your eyes never leaving his face.

“I—” he began, stopping to clear his throat. “I neva stopped lovin’ ya.”

First you blinked, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

Then you laughed, a cold, unhappy, bark of a laugh. “You’ve come up with an incredibly rich way of showing off your love for me, Merriell.”

Untucking your legs, your bare feet settled on the cool wood of the porch and you flexed them to still the swing. You glanced at the sunlight filtering through the branches of the oak and wondered how something so pretty could be occurring in tandem with the ugliest moment of your life.

“What’s she like?” you asked, your eyes still trained on the growing sunlight.

Merriell was quiet for a long time. He pulled his hands from his pockets and you couldn’t help but to turn your attention back to him, the thin band of gold flashing on his finger as he ran his left hand through his hair.

“Do you take your wedding ring off when you fuck her, or do—”

“She’s havin’ my child.”

You stopped breathing, the heated blood in your veins turning to ice.

“Leave.”

“Y/N, please,” Merriell began his voice catching as he let his tears fall.  

You stood, willing your body to get as far away from him as it could, but when you turned to walk into the house, he reached for you, and the thought of his fingers—the fingers that had been touching her, that had been inside of her—wrapping around your wrist was enough to make you sick.

Shaking him off, you threw open the door and ran to the kitchen sink, throwing up nothing but bile because you couldn’t even remember the last time you ate. Tears streamed down your face as you gagged again, and from your peripheral, you could see Merriell hovering in the doorway.

Running water to wash away the sick and rinse out your mouth, you felt your knees shake so you turned around against the counter and slowly sank to the floor, unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body.

That’s why. That’s why. That’s why.

She could give him the one thing in the world you never could.

You screamed, an agonized purge of emotion that exploded from your chest and you saw him leave, like a ghost, like a whisper of the man he had once been.

He had told you it didn’t matter.

He had sworn his love and fealty to you.

He had asked you to marry him.

He had sworn he was happy.

You straightened up. Your back still leaning against the countertop and you pulled your wedding ring off your finger. Slowly climbing to your feet, you turned back toward the sink and tossed the ring into the garbage disposal, flicking the switch and listening to the blades tear themselves apart as they hit the metal.

You flicked off the switch and swiped at the tears on your cheeks.

You had already broken one promise to yourself: you had let him see you cry.

You’d be damned if you’d be here when he got back; you’d be damned if you’d ever let him see your face again.

The walk to your bedroom felt like it was measured in miles, not in feet, and when you began tossing your things into a bag, you were struck with a realization.

You wanted nothing from this house, nothing from this life.

Leaving your clothes, makeup, and jewelry strewn across the bedroom, you turned on your heel and walked away. The only things you took from that house, that place you had called home for seven years, were your tennis shoes and your car keys.

As you pulled out onto the quiet road, your gaze focused only on the sun in the distance, a bright orange ball that held the promise of another hot day.

Your eyes never flicked to the rearview mirror.

Not once.

[abovethemists]

Monsterfuckers Ball!

Welcome to the newest Rumbelle non event. This is not an exchange. There are no rules. This spun out of a halfway joking attempt to get @emospritelet to write a creature Bobby orgy. But why doesn’t everyone get involved?

Do you have a hankering for vampire Gold? Dragon Rumple? Were Rush? Mer Danny? Ives being Ives? All of the above at the same time? Well this is the non event for you! It’s a simple four step process. 

Pick a creature

Pick a Bobby

Throw in a Belle

Profit!

Post your fics at any time in October and tag them “monsterfuckers ball”. I’ll put together a masterlist at the end of it. 

A very Happy Halloween to you all!

Edit: Please use the tag “Rumbelle Monster’s Ball” when you post. Tumblr won’t let me track the word fuck. womp womp. 

[lilacmoon83]

Mysterious Fathoms Below

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 5: Welcome to Storybrooke

It was a morning like any other in Storybrooke, Maine and for this town, that was literally true. It was the same thing every morning. Same people. Same routine. Nothing changed. Such was the nature of the curse.

Regina walked along the sidewalk. As usual, she observed Marco on a ladder, fixing the same sign, Archie walking Pongo and greeting her with the same pleasantries, and Mr. Gold hobbling along with his cane. She had an extra cold glare for him today, for this was not exactly what she thought it would be. For she was one thing that was more annoying than angry and enraged. Regina was bored.

This wasn't exactly what the imp had promised if she cast the curse. But he had enticed her by revealing that Snow and her Charming prince had escaped to this very land in their mer-form, for he revealed that mer-people could travel realms without curses, portals, or beans. So she had done it. She cursed Snow's people and friends. If nothing else, she knew the guilt would eat at her and she would eventually come here to try and stand against her. And that's when Regina would crush her and her true love. But it had yet to happen and Regina, with her thirst for revenge going un-quenched, was growing restless. But so far...Snow had not come to try and rescue anyone.

Upon their arrival in this land, she had a small hiccup in the form of a father and son, native to this land, who had been camping too close to the place where the curse had carved the town out of the woods and ended up inside Storybrooke. At first she had wanted them to leave right away and urged Billy at the repair shop to fix Kurt's truck.

But then she had gotten to know them, especially his little boy, Owen, and realized what she might be missing in her life. Unfortunately, Kurt had seen too much and found her attempts to keep them in town excessive, to say the least. So she had no choice but to force them to stay. Except Owen had escaped and she couldn't risk Kurt telling anyone what he had seen. And she had to make sure Owen never led anyone back to their town so when he did return with authorities, a magical barrier kept him and them from seeing anything.

Then there was Kurt. She currently had him locked up, but she wasn't sure keeping it that way was feasible. She knew that meant she had to get rid of him. Permanently. Normally, she wouldn't think twice about eliminating people, let alone one person. But doing so without magic was decidedly more messy. Before, she could rip a heart and crush it, engulf a village with one fireball, or better yet, order her Knights to carry out an execution. But none of those were really options here in Storybrooke.

If she wanted Graham to do it, she'd have to wake him up and getting him back under the curse might not be so easy. Then there the option of a gun and it was definitely the quickest option. Until she read about lethal injection in her research she had been doing about this world. From what she had learned, it was a drug cocktail that was used in the executions of criminals in this world. It was injected and stopped the heart, ceasing all life function in seconds. It was perfect, because all hospitals had the necessary drugs to make it. So that was her goal. She would concoct the lethal injection herself in her vault and then she would recruit Nurse Ratchet to administer it for her. She was one person that wouldn't question what they were doing or bat an eye at the prospect of murdering a patient. Especially since Kurt's raving had led her to keeping him regularly sedated. She had easily fooled hospital administration into believing that Kurt was very disturbed and got the approval to keep him heavily medicated. But it was one loose end that Regina wanted to tie up and she decided that, since she had finished the concoction last night, that today would be the day. Kurt would meet a quick and painless end. Then she would bury him in the woods at the campsite where it was likely he would never be found.

David surfaced, as he towed the boat to the shores of Storybrooke. They knew they were in the right place, because there had been an invisible barrier that he could see in his mer-form. It masked the existence of the town from view, but once he had crossed through the barrier, a town appeared.

"This is it! I recognize that clock tower! I remember, because I asked my Dad why it didn't seem to work," Owen exclaimed.

"I'm afraid it doesn't work, because time doesn't move here," Snow answered him.

"Cause it's a curse?" he asked. She nodded and handed her husband his enchanted necklace. He put it on and returned to his human form, before offering his hand to her and helped her off the boat. He helped Owen too and then grabbed a towel, before drying off and putting his shirt back on.

"What now?" Owen asked.

"Well...we explore this town as quietly as possible and try to discern where Regina might have your father locked up," David replied.

"We'll have to be careful. No one remembers us and in a town this size...it won't take Regina long to hear about "strangers"," Snow reminded. He nodded, as he took her hand and they set off into town.

"So this is it? This is what she wanted?" David asked, not quite understanding.

"Well, she is the Mayor. That means she has a lot of power I guess," Owen deduced.

"I guess so...but I think the point of all this was punishing me," Snow said.

"Which she didn't get to do directly," he said, as he squeezed her hand.

"If she sees you...she'll stop at nothing to make you pay," David said fearfully.

"Which means we need to find Owen's father and leave," Snow replied, as they watched people mill about on the streets. She vaguely recognized some of them, but hadn't seen anyone she had been close to yet.

"They all seem relatively safe," Snow said encouragingly, as she looked around, but wasn't watching where she was going and bumped into someone.

"Oh...I'm so sorry," Snow said, as she started helping the woman pick up her things.

"It's okay...it was my fault. I'm so clumsy," the woman said. Snow looked up and realized that she recognized her.

"Nova?" she asked.

"I'm sorry?" the woman asked.

"Oh...I'm sorry, you just look like someone I used to know," Snow covered.

"That's okay...I'm sister Astrid," she said, as they shook hands.

"Um...Margaret. Margaret Nolan," she said.

"Oh...what a beautiful little girl," Astrid complimented, as she gushed over Emma.

"Thank you...this is my husband David and our...son Owen," she said, surprising the boy, but then it made sense that she would introduce him as such to create a plausible facade.

"And this little one is our daughter, Emma," she added.

"Emma...what a lovely name," another voice said. She turned and saw a man with a cane standing there. She gasped, for she almost didn't recognize him here. Back in their land, his skin had been leathery with a golden sheen, scraggly hair, and eyes bleeding with a craze like she had never seen. But here, he seemed like a perfectly normal man, albeit a disabled one. It was quite the contrast and suddenly, she saw recognition in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he growled. David looked at him suspiciously.

"You remember us?" the Prince asked.

"Not until I heard that name…" he replied in a hiss, as he looked at the Savior, who was much too young to do any saving.

"Her name?" David asked and then it dawned on Snow.

"That's why you wanted to know her name," she realized. He nodded curtly.

"The question is...why are you two here 27-years too early?" he questioned in annoyance.

"It's because of me," Owen chimed in fearfully, as he hid behind David.

"I see," Rumple said evenly.

"Look...we came here, because Regina has Owen's father and we couldn't stand by and let her rip another family apart," David replied.

"And you came, despite knowing that she will do everything to rip your family apart. In fact, she'll delight in it and then everything I have worked for could go up in smoke!" he hissed.

"Wait...you want the curse to be broken?" Snow questioned. He sighed.

"That's my business," he snapped.

"No...you do want it broken. That's why you wanted all this," David said, gesturing at the town.

"You wanted to come to this land. I'm don't know why, but you were adamant that Snow and I were together," he recalled.

"Yes...and the only reason I let you two escape when you chose to become mer-people was because I could see your arrival with your grown daughter in the future," Rumple responded.

"You let us escape?" Snow questioned.

"Of course, dearie...I could have easily stopped you had I not seen that things would still work. I almost did when you two chose not to take your human forms permanently again. I thought it would ruin everything, but then sometimes destiny is fated to happen, no matter what the circumstances," Rumple responded.

"And that destiny is Emma being the Savior?" David asked. He nodded.

"And what is she going to save you from exactly?" the prince asked suspiciously.

"That's none of your business," he snapped.

"No, it is my business, because she's my daughter!" he snapped back, as they stared at each other with hard lined expressions.

"All you need to know is that harm to your Emma is not part of it. You need to leave here with her...now," Rumple insisted.

"We can't leave until we've found Owen's father," Snow refuted. Rumple rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation.

"Your bleeding hearts are what gets you both in so much trouble! If she catches you...you'll both be locked up right alongside this little boy's father and there is no telling what will happen to Emma, but it won't be good. Because Regina knows your child can break her curse," he said.

"Then help us," David replied.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"Help us find Owen's father and then we disappear again for twenty-seven more years," David offered. Rumple sighed and was seriously missing his magic right now. He had always respected and even admired David for his bravery and heroic nature. But damn if it didn't complicate things at times. It was so much easier to just take the easy road by using magic to do what he wanted and damned who it hurt. But such was a lonely path and it had cost him everyone he loved. Bae...and Belle eventually. That's why they were even here in this land in the first place. So he could find Baelfire someday and use their daughter to do it. Which meant he needed all of them protected at this point and if the only way to get them to leave town until it was time was to free this boy's father...then he would relent.

"Fine...across the street. Get in my shop. We have much to discuss," he hissed, as they followed him to the Pawn Shop.

"You're going to help us?" Owen asked.

"Only because I need them, boy...even if they are nothing but trouble," Gold grumbled. David smirked.

"Of course...after all, we can't have anyone thinking the Dark One has a heart," he quipped.

"I could care less about some boy and his father from this land," he lied. He would never admit that a father and son being separated pulled at the strings of his black heart and hit especially close to home.

"And I have about as much heart as you have tact, Charming," he hissed. But David just shook his head. Though he sometimes seemed thick, he had always known there was much more to the former shepherd beneath his heroics and princely facade. He and David both had humble beginnings and it was almost as if David could see beyond his scary display and prickly bluster. They understood each other, especially since David was a father now. The common ground between them was actually astounding and as much as he would deny it, David was probably the closest thing he would ever have to a friend. He would have to take a memory potion because of all this now. Yes...Charmings were nothing but trouble.

[ryik-the-writer]

CHAPTER 8 - The Enemy

[A03]

Despite her water-logged body and headache, Belle was positively giddy to go back to the beach to see Rumple. She planned to “borrow” diving equipment from Merlin so she could do some additional exploring with her mer-friend.

However, her inventor from Australia was coming in today and she had to be at the docks with the mayor to meet him. Not to mention Merlin and Ariel were watching her like a hawk since she arrived home at 3 a.m. the previous night.

“Most people don’t sneak in during the middle of the night when they’re “with” someone.” A bed-haired Ariel had commented over late night tea she had made in anticipation for Belle’s return. “Did…something happen?”

“If something did happen, we don’t need the details.” Merlin protested sleepily.

“No.” Belle said quickly. “I just…lost track of time.”

Ariel nodded, but there was a hunger in her eyes for more answers and Belle was almost tempted to spill everything, but it just wasn’t the right time. She swore once Rumple’s safety was guaranteed that she’d tell them both everything, but not until.

Now, at 8 a.m. in the morning, Belle and her lethargic team sat at the tables at a small dock café waiting for the morning ferry to arrive. Merlin was blinking over a cup of hot coffee while the mayor was glaring at him over hers.

“So, Miss French,” The mayor spoke when a waitress brought them a basket of rolls. “this inventor friend of yours is…”

“Brilliant.” Belle answered, knowing she threw the mayor off. “He’ll fix this problem in no time.”

The mayor hummed, unamused. “I should hope so.”

The group remained quiet until Ariel spotted the ferry coming in the distance. They rose as it ported and waited as the mainlanders and tourists exited, side-glancing Belle as she searched for the mystery inventor that would fix all their problems.

Suddenly, Belle smiled and jogged up to a heavyset man with a metal suitcase and stiffened into a soldier’s salute.

“Permission to hug, Captain French?” Belle requested, barely smothering her grin.

The man set down his suitcase and extended his beefy arms. “Permission granted darling o’mine.”

Belle giggled and jumped into her father’s arms, laughing when he lifted her a good foot off the ground and swung her back and forth.

“That…is precious.” Merlin chuckled.

Ariel shrugged good-naturedly. “Glad to see someone has a decent relationship with their father.”

“Indeed.” Mayor Mills muttered, straightening professionally and approaching the hugging duo.

“Captain…French?” she greeted.

The captain in question sat his daughter back on her feet, reaching out to engulf the mayor’s offered hand.

“The only captaining I do nowadays is on my fishing boat back in Queensland. Just call me Moe.”

The mayor pulled back, keeping her smile though her hand tingled slightly. “Very well…Moe. I take it Belle has briefed you in on our dilemma?”

“Gave me the gist.” He stated, picking up the metal suitcase he brought with. “I think I got what you need, but let’s get some breakfast first.”

After a good breakfast, the group was much perkier. Even Mayor Mills let down her over-professional walls and smiled along to one of Moe’s fishing stories.

“Sword fish had to be as long as my boat. Twenty feet at least!”

“Was that before or after the squid?” Belle inquired with a good-natured eyeroll, knowing her father always stretched the truth with his stories. What else were retirees supposed to do?

“Before, I think.” Moe answered before shoveling in his last forkful of eggs. “It was after I met Triton, before I met your mum.”

Ariel scoffed at the mention of her dad. Ariel had grown up in a military family like Belle’s but much stricter and much more crowded, as she was the youngest of seven too-similar sisters. Though the military family was a pain to live with at times, it was the traveling that led her to meet Belle in high school and spark their friendship.

“So you’re a captain and an inventor?” Regina inquired, obviously trying to pull the conversation back to business.

“Yep! I used to design ship turbines and waterproof radios before working my way up to captain. Now that I’m retired, I dabble around in environment-saving tools.” He leaned over to noisily pull the metal suitcase onto the table, pulling from it a small, mesh square no bigger than a coin purse.

“Check this puppy out!”

The mayor cautiously observed the square. “This is…”

“An oil filter. You put this on the end of the oil line and it absorbs any access oil that comes out.”

The mayor nodded. “Perfect. How much do these cost each?”

“I have a visiting-a-daughter special.” Moe winked at Belle.

“Oh my God dad…” Belle groaned, shooting Merlin a look when he chuckled.

“$150 each.” Moe stated.

Regina mused at the offer, doing a quick calculation in her sharp mind.

“I’ll have to talk it over with the council. I’ll get back with you in a couple of days?”

“No problem! Where am I staying?”

The major smiled proudly. “We have you set up at the bed and breakfast on Main. I’ll be happy to escort you.”

“Sounds great.” Moe stood and stretched, glancing at his daughter. “You don’t mind if I head on out do you?”

“Of course not dad.” Belle stated, feeling guiltily relieved. “But I am taking you out to dinner tonight. No objections.”

“Can’t wait, pumpkin.”

“Dad…”

The group walked the mayor and Mr. French to the mayor’s car and waived them off, bursting in relief and excitement when the car disappeared down the road.

“Yes!” Ariel cheered. “We did it! It’s almost over!”

Belle’s smile faltered at her friend’s proclamation. Once Moe fixed the oil problem, they wouldn’t have a reason to stay in Storybrooke. The institute would give her and Ariel a new assignment and there was no telling when they’d be able to return.

Belle felt her throat tighten at the thought of never seeing Rumple again. Would he be devastated as well? She had to tell him, had to let him know what could happen.

Merlin’s yawn cut Belle from her muse.

“I’m exhausted. I’m going home to get some sleep.”

Ariel stretched tiredly. “I’m with you. You coming, Belle?”

Belle paused. “Um, no. I’m going to…have another cup of coffee. Then maybe take a walk along the pier.”

“Fine.” Merlin nodded tiredly. “Come by later and I’ll give you a recommendation for a restaurant.”

“Great bye!”

Ariel and Merlin gave her perturbed looks before heading towards the car.

As soon as she couldn’t see their car, she darted down the docks and across the beach, slowing her speed so that she wouldn’t draw attention.

She was out of breath by the time she found the secret beach, but was still excited to see Rumple perched on a hill of sand, a multitude of treasures surrounding him. She called out a greeting and eyed the objects spread before him curiously as she approached him.

“Belle!” the merman greeted excitedly. “You’re early.”

Belle yawned in response, bustling down to the sand. “I met with my inventor friend.” She relayed.

Rumple’s eyes widened. “Your…you can fix the ink spills?”

Belle smiled. “Yes, soon.”

Rumple shot at her, clutching her to him by circling one arm under her armpit and the other around her neck. Belle recognized that it was his attempt at a hug, awkward as it was.

“Everything’s going to be okay for now on.” Belle assured, hands caressing his scaly back.

Rumplestiltskin pulled back, his eyes much more crestfallen than they should be over such good news.

“You said you were here to the stop the spills. You’ve stopped them, does that mean you’re going away?”

Belle gulped, the absolute distraught on his face breaking her heart.

“Rumple…I…”

She wished she had planned this out better, created a speech at least. She knew her time in Storybrooke was coming to an end and she had no way of stopping it. As soon as they sent their report back to headquarters, she and Ariel would be sent back to Australia until their next assignment popped up, and it would be too dangerous and selfish to ask Rumple to follow her.

But Belle wasn’t ready, and she couldn’t just put Rumple in a cooler and take him with her…though if she found a large enough one at a yard sale she’d look into it. She’d just have to find a way to extend her stay, or at least make use of what time she had.

“Look,” she said, clutching his hands in her own. “No matter what happens after this, I’m not leaving you. I don’t want to leave you.”

Rumple smiled thankfully, lifting their clutched hands to his forehead. It was an odd gesture that made Belle giggle and join him, meeting his eyes and smiling when he did.

-,-,-,-,-,-,-

Belle wiped a tear from her eye as her sides burned from laughing at another of her dad’s ridiculous stories.

“I can’t believe you would do that.”

“Your mum didn’t either.” Moe chuckled as he sipped on his bottle of beer. He sighed longingly, smiling soberly at the brown bottle. “I miss her so much. She was my partner in crime.”

“I miss her too, dad.” Belle said, placing her hand on top of his.

“She always hoped you’d find a partner of your own.” Moe said pressingly.

Belle rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “We’ve been through this…”

“I know, I know.” Moe laughed. “I just want to see my girl happy is all.”

“I am happy dad.” Belle insisted, and she wasn’t just trying to appease him. Since she came to Storybrooke and met Rumple, she had felt more joyful, more excited to get out of bed every morning.

“You’re not lonely?” Moe asked her intently.

“Of course not.” Belle said. “I have Merlin, and Ariel…”

She stopped when Rumple’s name almost rolled off her tongue. She took a sip of her drink, hoping it had gone unnoticed but her dad had caught it.

“Who else? Have you found someone?” he grinned.

Belle blushed. “Not exactly…”

“The color on your cheeks says otherwise.” Moe teased, making Belle wish the floor would open and swallow her.

“Dad it’s really—”

“Ah Belle! I was wondering if you were going to show up tonight.”

Belle glanced around to see Killian Jones walking toward the bar. She wasn’t sure whether she was glad to see him or not, as his presence may give her father the insinuation that they were involved.

“Forgive me, I didn’t see you had company.” He said in a charming brogue, though he shot her wink.

“Captain Jones, it’s great to see you!” She greeted much too cheerfully to be real.

Killian held back a snort, giving a slight nod to her and then her father.

“Excuse my intrusion.”

“No, not at all.” Moe said as he stood, grinning Belle’s way. “I was just about to head back to the inn.”

“Oh no.” Belle sighed disappointedly, though she was praying he would hurry up and go.

“Yep, see you tomorrow m’girl.” Moe said, sending her a wink as he left her alone with Killian.

Belle physically sagged against the bar stool. “Thanks.”

“The conversation sounded a bit strained. I hope I wasn’t…”

“No,” Belle laughed. “You’re actually my hero. He wanted details on my love life.”

Killian chuckled. “My presence might have given him the wrong idea.”

A warm blush traveled across Belle’s cheeks. He really could be a charmer when he tried, though the half-drunken bottle of beer in his hand worried her.

“Well,” Killian sighed, “now that I’ve saved you, I’ll leave you to your peaceful evening.” He gave a slight bow and turned to leave.

“Wait.” Belle protested, not realizing she had said anything until he actually stopped to look back at her.

The books he had leant her were heavy in her bag, reminding her of the proposal he had made the last time they saw each other. She had been a bit cold to him when they met, and he had been nothing but good-natured to her then and now. He didn’t deserve her cold shoulder, even if he was annoyingly flirtatious. She couldn’t judge him until she got to know him, so she might as well start now.

“Let me buy you a drink…for all your help the other day…and tonight.” She chuckled.

Killian took her in, a small, innocent smirk going across his lips.

“I’d like that very much.”

Two hours later the biologist and the captain were giggling furiously over their third round of beers.

“Then,” Killian giggled as he continued with a story he had been relaying. “We had to get peanut butter between the eels teeth to get it to let go of his arm!”

Belle doubled over with laughter. The story was more gruesome that funny, but Belle was too buzzed not to humor him.

“You’ve had a lot of adventures.” Belle chortled before taking a swig from her bottle.

Killian nodded, smiling reminiscently. “The boys and I have seen the world and all its wonders ten times over.” He snuck a look at Belle before he returned to his drink. “But there comes a time in a man’s life when he’s ready to slow down, have less dangerous adventures.”

Belle smirked when she sensed what he was leading to. “I’ve been thinking the same thing, but with my significant other.”

Killian smacked his lips. “You two worked things out then?”

Belle smiled. “We did, and had a quiet adventure as a result of it.”  

The captain hummed and gave her an incredulous look. Belle rolled her eyes at the glint of lust. “Not that kind of adventure, thank you. We haven’t gotten to that stage yet.”

“He must be pretty special to wait for.”

Belle watched the water droplets run down her beer bottle. Though the comment made her want to tell Captain Killian Jones, it did bring up the question of what could be next for her and her merman. She cared for him so much, but she wondered how their relationship could transform. As soon as her father fixed the boats issue, their work in Storybrooke would be done and they would receive their next assignment. Being a marine biologist was her life, and she loved it, but could she really choose between staying in Storybrooke with Rumple over exploring the oceans and saving its inhabitants?

“He is special.” Belle finally admitted. “So special. I’m just not sure if a future for us is plausible.”

Killian eyed her, his fingers tapping on the neck of his bottle. “Why do you think that?”

“Let’s just say…” Belle laughed, then shrugged. “We’re from two different worlds.”

“Indeed.” Killian said, lifting his bottle in salute.

Before Belle could question him, he stood and pulled out his wallet.

“No!” Belle exclaimed, searching for her purse. “This is on me, remember?”

“I never make a lady pay for drinks.” Killian winked, standing unsteadily as he stood to place a few bills on the counter. “However, I would love the honor of walking you home.”

Belle bit her lip as he stumbled a bit. “I live a bit too far out for you to escort me. Perhaps I should walk you home instead. I have your books with me. We could exchange them.”

Killian laughed, the heat of the alcohol hitting her lips. “I think that would be a wise choice.”

Belle slung his arm over her shoulders, his tipsiness causing him to slouch and lose the few inches of height he had on her.

“Just down the docks.” He instructed unevenly.

Belle could see the familiar sails of Killian’s ship. “You live on your ship? How magical.”

“She needs constant attention.” He said with a wink.

Belle lowered her head before rolling her eyes.

Belle slowly led them up the stairs to the deck. Killian nodded to the Captain’s quarters and Belle helped him sit on the bed. She looked around, noticing he had straitened up a bit, which Belle couldn’t help but think he had done so in some kind of anticipation, if not from her than some kind of girl who would have caught his eye.

Belle sighed. It certainly wasn’t going to be her.

She started when Killian suddenly stood. He grabbed onto the table, giving her a pleasant smile.

“I’m going to get a glass of water. Would you like anything?”

“No thank you,” Belle said politely. “I’m just going to put the books back.”

Killian nodded and made the wobblily trip into the kitchen area, leaving Belle to fish the books from her bag and returned them to the stack she had borrowed them from.

True to his word, Killian had indeed been on many adventures and had artifacts from all over the world to prove it. Her eyes scanned the books and maps she saw last time until she saw the mysterious door Killian had stopped her from entering.

Belle glanced over her shoulder and heard the distinct sound of drawers opening and closing, signifying that Killian was still busy in the kitchen. He had been intent on keeping whatever was in there a secret. Belle wondered if it was full of personal belongings, maybe relics of a painful past. Or perhaps it really was just “dangerous fishing gear” and he really thought she could get hurt.

Still, Belle had learned from experience that usually when someone was hiding something, it was worth finding out about. Belle decided she would just take a quick peak, and if she saw nothing, she would close the door and drop the whole thing.

She opened the door just enough for her to step through and pulled the light chord, filling the small room with dingy orange light.

Belle’s eyebrows bowed in question as she looked around the room. It was full of mermaid memorabilia, statues and ancient pictures and books like the one Killian had lent her. She stepped further inside, her suspicions dimming when she noticed nothing incriminating. It would make sense that he’d have an interest in the creatures with his seafaring travels.

She was about to turn around when she noticed something on the small desk. It was a glass case of some sort, the dim lighting barely illuminating it. There was something dark and wrinkled inside it, and light, Belle discovered when she lifted it off the desk.

It was a fin. A piece of one any way.

The discovery made Belle’s stomach drop. It couldn’t be…it wouldn’t be possible…

Belle turned towards the light, holding the glass case to the dingy lightbulb for better illumination.

As the darkened but distinctive golden color washed over her, she watched through the glass as Killian stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

“I would have preferred if you hadn’t found that.” Killian tsked.

Belle slowly lowered the case, hugging it to her chest as she glared at him.

“You’ve sobered up quickly.” She spat.

“Miraculous recovery.” He deadpanned as he stopped and opened a small drawer. In a quick swoop he pulled out a small but still very threatening gun. His lip curled when he saw Belle’s panicked expression

“As I said, there is a lot of dangerous equipment in here.”

Belle gulped, but somehow having a piece of Rumple with gave her the ability to keep her spine straight and her glare firm.

“You said it was fishing gear.”

Killian chuckled, brushing invisible grime off the gun before stepping closer to her. “Emphasis on the fish, but still just as dangerous.”

Belle felt the urge to step back as he edged uncomfortably closer, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of scaring her.

“I know where you got this from.” Belle hissed, her nails scratching into the glass when he stepped right in front of her.

“From your monster.” Killian shrugged. “Years of tracking him and I’ve only gotten this small piece of proof.” He tapped on the glass with the gun as he said it, smirking when he met Belle’s glare.

Belle gulped, but she kept her spine straight and her glare firm.

“How long?” she growled.

“You’ll have to specify on that question love.” Killian said as he brushed up to her, causing Belle to draw back until the back of her legs hit the desk. He directed her into a chair, thus trapping her in the small room with him. “Do you mean how long have I’ve been tracking that beast, or how long have I known that you’ve been cozying with him?”

Belle’s fingers tapped nervously on the glass casing. He’d known about her and Rumple all along, and she had bit the baited hook he’d cast out to her.

“Both.”

Killian shrugged, stepping back just enough to pull a chair out in front of her and sit, the gun still pointed at her.

“My history with the beast is long and quite complicated.” He winked. “I rather talk about you.”

“How flattering.” Belle deadpanned.  “But I have nothing to say to you except that you should put that gun down before you get hurt.”

Killian laughed, charmed by her feistiness.

“There’s no need for threats, love.” He said, sitting back and crossing his legs. “In fact, I think once I let you go, we’ll be much nicer to each other.”

“I doubt it.” Belle snarked. “But what are you going on about?”

“Let me level with you.” He sighed, leaning forward. “I’ve been tracking this creature for a long time, and I’ve lost a great deal trying to prove his existence.”

“So has he.” Belle growled, tapping a finger against the glass case in her arms.

“He was alive and well last time I saw you two together.” The captain clucked, giving Belle a sordid look-over. “By looks of it, you two were getting quite comfortable with each other.”

Belle’s face tinted pink at his insinuation, but her snark was stronger than any embarrassment she could feel.

“What can I say, I like creatures with scales and class.” She smirked.

“Let’s cut to the chase.” Killian interrupted, disturbing images dancing behind his eyes. In a blink, one of his charming smiles was plastered back on his lips, one that, if Belle were more feeble-minded, she would have fell for the moment she met him.

“How about I just cut out of here…” Belle suggested, trying to ease past the pirate. He pointed the gun at her shoulder and pushed her into the desk.

“Please don’t do that again, Belle.” Killian insisted. “I’d hate to mark an inch of your pretty skin with a bullet, at least not before I present my offer to you.”

“What offer?” Belle spat, eyeing the exit.

“As I said, I’ve studied and chased that beast for some time now.” The captain explained, tapping the tip of the gun against her arm. “And, unsurprisingly, its become charmed by you. Trusts you, even.”

Belle arched a suspicious eyebrow. She did not like where he was going.

“Capturing this beast—dead or alive—could mean more fame and money than I would know what to do with.” The captain explained, and Belle could practically see the dollar signs dancing behind his eyes. “Which is why, if you help me trap it, I’ll split it all down the middle with you.”

“You think me shallow enough that I would put Rumple in harms way for fame and fortune?” Belle scoffed.

“I think you’re smart enough that you recognize a golden opportunity.” The captain explained. “Wouldn’t you like to just see the world rather than study it? You’d never have to work another day in your life.”

“I like my job!” Belle exclaimed. “I have helped save so many species, just like Rumple.”

“Well then think how many more you’ll save with the price tag on that creature’s head. You could save the world.”

“Rumple is part of my world.” Belle fought. “I won’t sacrifice him. His life is precious, to me and so many other creatures. He protects the oceans and ways I can’t! He’s kind and gentle, and creative and he appreciates beauty in ways no one else can.”

The captain observed her, the small smile on his face queer and slightly terrifying, like a shark seconds away from devouring its trapped prey.

“The beautiful girl has fallen in love with the underwater beast.” He scoffed. “Adorable!”

Belle’s argument shriveled on her tongue. Gods be, he was right.

She loved Rumple, and the realization only made her panic more for his safety. Killian was dead-set to kill her friend, and his only hope of salvation was if she calculated her way out this hole.

“Why is it always the pretty ones who fall for the monsters?” Killian mused aloud. “Pity, really.”

Belle gritted her teeth at the statement, knowing that a snark back would lessen her chances of survival.

“I really do hope you change your mind.” Killian sighed. “I hate to hurt pretty women, and I think in time you and I could develop a rather…” he wagged his eyebrows and Belle struggled not to slap him then and there. “close friendship.”

“What are you going to do to me in the meantime?” Belle inquired after forcing down a gag.

The captain seemed to muse on the question for a moment, and Belle hugged the glass case tighter to her out of concern for herself.

“I’m going to...let you go.” he decided, easing the gun away from her. “I have some hope that you’ll change your mind.”

“And why would you think that?”

“Because, my dear, dear Belle,” Killian laughed. “No one is going to believe a word you say.”

Belle gulped. He was right on that note. Two weeks ago if someone had told her all she had witnessed, she would have thought them insane as well.

Still, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t run to the docks and tell Rumple about the danger he was in.

“Not to mention, I’ve tracked that beast for years. I’ll find him again in a matter of days if you try to tell him.”

Damn.

“Regardless if you help me or not, Belle,” Killian continued, “I’m getting that beast. The only reason I’m getting you the option to help me is because with your help, he may survive much longer.”

Belle shook her head, the idea of Rumple swimming around in a glass case, being poked and prodded by strangers, becoming too realistic for her taste.

Killian witnessed the fear in her eyes, and he stood, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I really like you Belle,” Killian confided. “I know you’ll make the right decision.”

Belle held her breath when he released her, watching as he unlocked the door and stepped out. She waited until she could no longer hear the echo of his footsteps before she dashed out the door, her chest heaving as she struggled not to let the anxiety of the situation get to her. She needed to stay strong. Rumple’s life depended on it. Her life depended on it.

As she stumbled to the dock, running a finger around the outline of Rumple’s fin.

“Don’t worry Rumple, I’ll figure this out.” Belle pledged. “I’ll protect you no matter what.”

[mareyshelley]

TEA Nominations - autumnstar

Thank you so much to everyone that took the time to nominate me and my fics. I really wasn’t expecting it, and I especially didn’t expect to get nominated for Best New Author ❤️ Below are the fics that were nominated, and the categories they were nominated for, if you’re considering voting for them or me:

Echoing Hearts - The one where Wish!Rumple finds a Belle. Nominated for Best Rumbelle Fic and Best Wish!Rumple

The Image of Her - My Halloween Edwardian Rumbelle. Nominated for Best Historical AU and Best Unexpected Twist

What the Heart Wants - A Season 7 AU with Belle and Gideon. Nominated for Best Woven Beauty

The Sounding Sea - The one with nonverbal mer!Belle and her besotted Dark One. Nominated for Best Creature AU and Best AU Belle

Mirrored Memories - A Season 1 AU with amnesia!Belle and a plotting Rumple. Nominated for Best Dark Castle