#and swimming in a soup of Everybody Is Yelling All the Time

[bending-sickle]

i need to be alone and hedonistic for like 48 hours maybe then i’ll stop breathing funny

[smokeygrayrabbits]

Vash ending up in a plant tank/plant lightbulb due to maybe an overblown injury or plant related sickness? Either way he needed to be put into one Starwars bacta tank style and he's very mad about it. he keeps trying to escape (like that octopus in the New England aquarium that would sneak out at night to eat fish) . in an attempt to get vash to stay in the fucking tank and heal, the gang decides to decorate the inside of the tank. vash finds their efforts both insulting and unsatisfactory. he ends up just kind of sitting on the bottom of the tank and glaring it everybody who walks by. everyone just fucking coos at him bc he's adorable while pouting. vash swims to the top at the opening of the tank and yells down at everyone else "I HATE ALL OF YOU" and he sinks back into the soup still pouting. Wolfwood absolutely bullies him and teases him, but he also doesn't leave Vash's side for too long cause he knows Spikey gets lonely. bash, of course, is very annoying the entire time he's in the tank. he keeps trying to splash at wolfwood or banging on the glass. Meryl and Roberto have to restrain him from jumping in the tank to throw hands with vash.

[mamawolfblood]

Total drama Surprise

14 Brunch of Disgustingness

Chris: Last time on Total Drama Island… A note from a secret admirer got Gwen and Bridgette up in each other’s business. DJ accidentally knocked his boy Trent off the airplane, sending him deep into the Earth’s crust. Leshawna showed everybody how to hang on for dear life on the moose ride. Harold showed himself to be an ace flag-catcher, until he caught sight of Heather’s… unmentionables, causing him to crash his way right off the island, but not without a little canoodling time with the fair Leshawna. And now, let’s see what’s in store for our campers on this week’s episode of Total. Drama. Island!

Iris found it odd that Chef did want her help today for breakfast. Walking and sat on the dock looking at the moon. It was calm a peaceful just the gentle sound of water. "You couldn't sleep either?" Duncan said making the teen jump. He chuckled sitting behind me. His arms wrapped me into a warm embrace. His chin ontop of her head. No words needed to be spoken they just watch the sun rise.

It was something she didn't want to end but nothing lasts forever. The campers made their way to the mess hall. Before Iris could enter Duncan grabbed her arm. "Duncan what is it?" She asked looking up at him. But the carage he gathered soon turned to cold feet making him let go. "Nothing let's see what your dad has up his sleeve today." Damb so close but no big deal. The girl thought stepping inside sitting with her team.

Iris pov

My dad  Was acting weird whenever someone tried to ask about food.  Chef would snicker and laugh along with him. " OK seriously enough, what is wrong with the two of you?" I asked making them look at me. Its no secret I get cranky when I don't get food.

Chris: Congratulations to the remaining ten campers for reaching the halfway mark in the competition! You’ll all be on the jury for the final episode.

Geoff: We got the power! Yeah!

Chris: The two teams will become one next week. But first, all the girls will be moved to the Gopher cabin and all the guys will stay in the Bass cabin. This week’s challenge is as old as history itself. A battle of the sexes [Lindsay blows a raspberry at the guys] After everyone is settled in, I’ll announce the challenge. And then, you’ll have an uh… bite to eat.[He and Chef snicker] Ready for a little good news? This week, no one will be kicked off. [everyone cheers] It’s all for reward and it’s a good one. Okay, time to relocate. Let’s move! [He and Chef snicker]

Heather started kissing up to Bridgette. It was sickening to watch so I got up and left.

(Confessional: Bridgette)

Bridgette: I was a bit worried about being the only new girl on the team. Then I figured it can’t be that bad. I don’t buy that hype about how well guys get along and how catty girls can be.

(Confessional Off)

I was sitting outside when Bridgette walked over. "Hi Bridgette have fun in the lions den." I said before laughing.

Leshawna: Nobody’s leaving until I find out who ate my pudding pockets!

Heather: I ate them. So what?

Leshawna: Whoa! Pump the brakes a minute! You’re “so what”ing me? That’s my food. No one touches my food!

Heather: Whatever, deal with it. It serves you right for leaving your junk everywhere, especially that. That is bugging me.

Leshawna: Yeah, it’d bug me too if I didn’t have anything in the front or in the back to shake.

Heather: Yeah? Well, you’ve got so much junk in your trunk, your jeans should come with a trash compactor!

Leshawna: Ooh! You want a piece of this?

Bridgette: Uh-oh.

Heather: Bridgette! It’s so good to see you! Come in, come in! Welcome to our cabin. We’re like a big family in here.

Gwen: Big and dysfunctional.

Heather: Anything you need, just yell.

Bridgette: Thanks for the awesome welcome, Heather.

Lindsay: Welcome to the club! It’ll be so much fun! As long as you do everything Heather says. Ow!

Heather [after she laughs] : Yeah, we love joking around here at girls cabin. I made sure your bunk was next to mine–

Lindsay: Hey! That’s my bed. Ow!

Heather: So we can talk and share and really get to know each other.

Bridgette: Okay, yeah! Hey, thanks everybody, I can’t wait to get to know all of–

Heather: Okay! Plenty of time to chat later! Let’s unpack.

Lindsay: This is great! I bet we’re getting along way better than the guys.

I honestly hope things are going well. This den of vipers is about to explode. If on cue I heard this.

Bridgette: Let’s build bridges, not walls!

Heather: Take your pick.

dramatic music plays as Bridgette picks Gwen and Leshwana's side

Heather: You just dug your own grave.

Bridgette: Let’s try to get along, okay? Otherwise, the guys are going to cream us, don’t you get it? Tough room.

[Chef and Chris snicker]

Heather: Stop doing that!

Chris: Let’s just tell them… Today’s challenge is… The Brunch of Disgustingness! You’ll be getting a nine-course meal. Each member of each team must finish each dish. You will not know if the next dish is grosser than the last, not as gross, or just as gross. Just that it’ll likely be… gross.

Chef: Tell them what they’ll get if they win, Chris!

Chris: The winning team spends two days at a local five-star resort where they’ll be pampered, eat gourmet nosh, and be given antibiotics against anything they may have caught while participating in this challenge! The losing team will go hungry tonight and spend the next two days here. On Total Drama Island. With Chef.

The first round was bull testicles and the point went to the girls. Oh those boys could handle a little meatball.

Chris: The score now stands at one for the girls and zero for the guys! And now, the next course in… The Brunch of Disgustingness! You guys like pizza?

Owen: I could eat pizza any time with anything on it!

Chris: Anything? How about live grasshopper pizza with tangy jellyfish sauce and live anchovies?

Owen: I could eat pizza any time with anything on it!

Chris: How about live grasshopper pizza with tangy jellyfish sauce and live anchovies?

Ok even I thought it was gross please do let me get sick.

Leshawna couldn't eat it giving the guys a point making us tied. The girls freaked on her but honestly not a big deal. "Guys its not a big deal. We will win the next round so stop complaining.

(Confessional: Chef)

Chef: I was excited about the next dish. I made it from scratch.

(Confessional Off)

Chris: All right, who’s ready for the third course? Spaghetti! Well, actually, Earthworms covered in snail slime sauce and hairballs.

I barfed when it was placed infront of me.

(Confessional )

Iris- WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?! THIS SHIT IS FUCKING DISGUSTING!

*static *

(End of Confessionals)

The guys got another point and now I am getting aggravated.

Chris: All right everybody. Time for course number four. No nine-course meal would be complete without soup. Today’s special is French Bunyon soup with hangnail crackers.

(Confessional: Geoff)

Geoff: I think they just use stuff from Chef’s bathroom floor.

(Confessional Off)

Bridgette gasps

DJ strains to eat

Trent gags

Lindsay: I didn’t even taste it.

Chris: The girls win again![Gwen, Heather, Leshawna, and Lindsay cheer] The score’s now tied up at two.

(Confessional: Bridgette)

Bridgette: I think the girls really made a breakthrough as a team.

(Confessional Off)

The rounds continue and the barfing too. But we made it to the final round.

"Oh god I think I'm going to be sick." I said trying to hold it down but I dont think I can.

C

hris: Wow, it’s still tied up. We’re down to the last course in the challenge. It’s delicious dolphin wieners. Hot dogs made of dolphin.

Bridgette [after she gasps] : But dolphins are our friends!

Heather: What are you waiting for? It’s already dead. If you don’t eat it, we don’t win.

Bridgette: Ooh, I can’t! I’m a surfer! I swim with dolphins!

Heather: Eat it!

Bridgette: No! I’m not doing it. You can’t pressure me.

The hell we can't grabbing a hot dog off the plate, and then proceeded to shove it down her throat.

"I'M NOT LOSING THIS BECAUSE YOU CAN'T GROW A PAIR! THE DAMB THING IS DEAD SO SUCK IT UP AND STUFF YOU FUCKING FACE!" They all looked at me Bridgette had tears in her eyes. She coughed it all up.

DJ: I’m with you sister. I’m not eating no dolphin.

(Confessional : Chef)

Chef: I slave over a hot stove cooking dolphin. No appreciation!

(Confessional Off)

Chris: Okay, enough. We’ll solve this by having an eat-off. The one who can drink the most shot glasses of fresh, delicious blended cockroach will be the winner. This unlikely satisfying blend of eight different cockroaches is vitamin rich for your balanced lifestyle. On your mark, get set, go!

Owen and Leshwana drink the cockroaches.

Leshawna groans two times

Chris: Owen wins!

DJ, Duncan, Geoff, and Trent cheer

Leshawna groans

Heather: Leshawna, you are completely useless!

Leshawna: Oh, uh-oh, something’s coming up. [puking]

DJ pukes

Trent:pukes

Chef: Grr… [retches]

Chris retches

Duncan and Geoff Puke

The “elimination” music plays.

Chris: The guys are the big winners today. And the girls go their separate ways. Two definitive cliques have been cemented. [Heather grunts and the door rattles] For now. What shocking surprises are in store for our campers next week as they head for the big merge? Tune in on Total. Drama. Island!

[secret-engima]

story-spinner

Having a bad day. You happen to have any HCs or snippets for Kings Skjald verse? You may not but your writing always seems to cheer me up so

Me: So sorry I missed this! I didn’t log in yesterday like- at ALL and I only just got the notification. I unfortunately do not have any snippets to share, but HCs I can do. :)

-In the aftermath of Souls of the Sea (Still Belong to Blue Tides) and everything that happened in there, a couple things happen. One of the big ones being that Ravus joins the Kingsglaive. It takes him a year of stubbornly arguing with his mother over it, because she does NOT want Ravus to go haring off to war, but in the end Ravus wins and joins up at 17.

-The glaives at first are not too sold on this idea. Because... prince. Tenebraen prince with a resting murder face. He’s probably a wimp. Or just a jerk. Will he even obey orders and work with us non-royal Galahdian/Lucian nobodies?

-Then they actually throw Ravus into boot camp and learn that this boy may have enough formal manners to perfectly blend in with Lucian high society but once you take him out of that environment and stick a sword in his hand he becomes a bundle of Feral Anger And Bloodlust with a side of Really Scary Cunning. Also he spent part of those months on the run being grilled by Gladiolus in how to fight (on top of the royal sword training he’d already been receiving pre-Tenebrae’s Fall obviously) and spent putting food on the camp grill for his mother and sister by Killing It Really Hard First.

-Basically he fits riigghhtt in with the rest of the feral, chip-on-their-shoulder-rookies.

-Also, Ravus may not be a Reborn Viking of Pure Awesome like Gladiolus, so he can’t stand toe to toe with Cor the Immortal or anything but like- in canon this boy was able to claw his way up the ranks of a foreign military that WOULDN’T HAVE WANTED HIM THERE (see: Uldor’s comments during the Ignis DLC, and that cutscene with Besithia making snide comments at Ravus in the main game) and eventually become SiC and then Supreme Commander. Kid has talent and the stubborn to back it up.

-Nyx is not a fan of being Braincelled by this younger, more aggressive Tenenbraen, especially when half the time Ravus is only in yelling range because he’s DOING THE DUMB RIGHT ALONGSIDE NYX.

-Luche and Libertus are both a Stress.

-Tredd finds it fun to wind the kid up even though it repeatedly gets him a broken nose.

-Anyway as a side effect of Ravus joining the Kingsglaive, Luna and Gladiolus both take an interest in the Kingsglaive as a whole, and of course, whatever THEY take an interest in, Noctis will take an interest in too.

-Cue Smol Prince following along whenever Luna comes to check on her brother (and secretly use her magic to heal them even though Mother Strictly Forbids Using Her Magic Outside Emergencies Until She’s Fully Trained) and Gladiolus making friends with people physically a lot older than him but not mentally. And maybe mopping the floor with anyone who dares challenge him to a spar (this is the year Gladiolus is finally good enough to win against Cor in a spar according to a previous HC of mine, sorry but the Glaives have no chance, they give it a good go though).

-Gladiolus may or may not accidentally teach the Kingsglaive how to swear in Old Norse.

-I really really want the other Astrals (minus Bahamut) to start noticing and taking an interest in Leviathan’s new “kid”, because no one has given blessings since Solheim’s fall and of all of them, LEVIATHAN was not the one they expected to buck the mold in that way (in other ways sure, but Blessing a human???? THEIR angry rage snek???). But I’m still working out how all that ... goes.

-Leviathan probably browbeats the others into keeping it a secret from Bahamut tho. Because she is protective of her child and there’s no way she’s letting Bahamut hurt her Chosen again, even by accident.

-Gladiolus, with his newfound abilities to breathe underwater and such, sometimes gets an itch to go swimming. Considering the ocean is miles away most of the time and the pool has chlorine that stings his lungs when he breathes it, he finds the Royal Aquarium with all its ocean fish a much better place to hang out for a few hours.

-Clarus, Juno, Regis, Ignis, Cor, and more than a few freaked out Crownsguard would like to STRONGLY DISAGREE.

-Gladiolus, who lost track of time swimming around with the Really Dangerous Fish that won’t bother him because they can sense Leviathan’s Blessing, is just like- sorry? I’ll warn you next time.

-Everybody: WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEXT TIME.

-Sylva becomes a major voice in Lucian noble circles in favor of the Kingsglaive and efforts to clean up the refugee sector. Because she may not be Lucian, but she is the ORACLE and her voice carries a LOT of weight and she’s lived through what the Galahdians and other refugee groups have suffered through. She knows the smell of your home burning and blood on your clothes as you run from MT units and pray they don’t find you. She knows what it’s like to flee to another country. What it’s like to be HUNGRY and SCARED. What it’s like to cling to the children at night on a Haven, cold and tired but unable to sleep because the daemons wander and scream only a few yards away, and while the mind says they cannot come onto the Haven, the heart and the instincts do not believe. She knows ALL OF THAT.

-She also knows what it’s like to be saved. To be found and sheltered and taken to safety by soldiers who are just like her, and know to give her and her children soup and soft foods, who know to approach from the front rather than the sides and to move slow and open, to always say what they’re doing before they do it. She knows what it’s like to be so grateful for those simple kindnesses that it takes all she can muster not to start crying, because if she starts she will not stop and then her children will start crying too.

-So whenever some Lucian noble makes contemptuous noises over the “necessity” of the Kingsglaive or the refugee sector, or makes a comment on how Insomnia is for LUCIANS and not ragged strays, she will look them in the eye and say something perfectly cool and polite and deadly. Something that sharply reminds the noble that SHE, the HOLY ORACLE, is a refugee just like all the other “ragged strays”. That she and hers were “found” by Kingsglaive and escorted safely home. That her SON is now part of that very same organization.

-But do go on and tell her how the Kingsglaive are a waste of money and refugees should be left to fend for themselves.

-Needless to say, between Sylva backing them politically, Luna healing them on the sly (and also Sylva does come heal the bad cases whenever she has time), and Ravus being his feral budding terrifying strategist self, the Kingsglaive and Little Galahd as a whole rapidly come to adore the Nox Fleuret family. These are their Oracles. No touchy. They will Fite You.

-And of course, Noctis adores Luna and tries to emulate her because she’s Cool, and also his Shield-Brother cares for the Kingsglaive, and Big Brother Ravus IS a Kingsglaive, so Noctis rolls up his little sleeves and tries to help too. He’s too young to have a voice in politics, but he can and will follow his dad around nagging that hey-hey Ravus says their shoes don’t fit and the quartermaster won’t give them potions even though IGNIS says they have the budget for it and hey hey hey- (Regis would like to know how Ignis the Eleven Year Old got his hands on the Kingsglaive budget, but Cor has been making dire noises along these lines already so he sighs and siccs the auditors on the quartermaster).

-Noctis also visits a lot, and tries to give the Glaives games and things because hey those make him feel better so maybe it’ll make the glaives not look so tired too.

-The Entire Kingsglaive as they proverbially (and sometimes literally) pick up Noctis: We’ve only known this princeling for a few months but if anything happened to him we would kill everyone in Niflheim and then ourselves.

-Gladiolus approves this feeling.

I think that’s all the HCs I got for the moment, I hope these made your day a little better. :)

[prism-sakura-s]

Saltwater Brew

A/N: So um... @sliceofmaggpie idk if you remember but I said I wanted to write a fic inspired by one of your mermay drawings and I know it’s been seven months but I finally finished it so. here it is.

Warnings: murdering/drowning/eating people mention (the cannibalism is more brief though), mentions of loved ones going missing, pain (?)

Word count: 7k (yeah I... kinda went crazy w this)

Pairing: Paulkins

~

Emma blew a stray lock from her face, growing bored out of her mind. Honestly, curse the gods with making her the way she is. They made a siren who hates sitting and singing all day long. Who does that?

A sadist, probably, thought Emma. Which is, accurately, what most of the gods are. That's what she's learned anyway.

Sure, she would admit, when you first start out as a siren you have fun watching the male sailors plummet to their deaths, or drowning anyone who managed to survive. But after a few hundred years or so it becomes boring. At least, to Emma it does. The other sirens don't seem to tire of it at all. She wonders why.

Oh, and there's the fact that killing people isn't exactly the best hobby to do in taste. In Emma's opinion, the sailors should be grateful they're being spared from living any longer, but she recognizes the fact that, strangely, people would prefer to live a little longer in this cruel world.

"Emma!" a cheery voice called.

The siren in question groaned. Gods, not another one, she pleaded uselessly.

"Emma!!!" The voice was louder and much more urgent, though somehow, it still kept its chipper tone.

"I'm coming!" Emma called back, exasperated. She promptly turned her tail into legs before standing up. She took her time making her way to the strangely smooth cliff.

Upon arriving she saw the rest of the sirens looking and grinning in the direction of a ginormous wooden ship sailing towards the direction of the rock. Emma sighed and walked towards the crowd before plopping down and stretching her legs. She still didn't understand why they had to show them off instead of just keeping their tails. Not that she didn't like the legs, she really saw them as a convenience, but seeing as the songs did the trick anyway, there seemed to be no need.

"Men are most likely to jump if we show them off," Zooey had explained with a big, dumb grin that Emma wanted to punch.

"But men will jump if we sing anyway," Emma had argued.

"So? They will still be more likely to jump if we have legs," Zooey insisted. Emma had left the conversation at that, worried that she would lose more brain cells if she kept it up.

The ship wasn't too far now, and the chattering around Emma grew more frantic and excited. She saw Nora and Zooey climb on the highest rock.

"Alright everyone!" Zooey called in her high, joyful tone that Emma oh so despised. "Let's go get this one!”

Everyone except Emma cheered. Emma, in turn, groaned, grateful that it was drowned out in the noise. If anybody heard her, they would surely her ask if there was something wrong, then continue to talk for a long while Emma slowly dissociated.

"Okay everybody!" Nora called. "Ready?”

"READY!" the crowd yelled.

"ready," Emma slurred.

"Let's sing!" Zooey yelled.

Emma took a deep breath and sung.

Their voices immediately blended together, creating a single tune that flowed seamlessly through the air. The harmonies wove together and made their way to the unassuming sailors. The melody captured the men as a net would catch helpless fish.

Emma saw the men jumping off and cringed inwardly, but didn't stop singing. If she did, the song would break, and she would get in trouble. So she had to wait.

Suddenly, Emma saw something. A man had walked off the mast and fallen, but he had plummeted straight down. Her eyes lit up; that meant that sailor was still alive.

Please end soon, Emma thought.

Thankfully, the gods had mercy on her, the first in a long time. The ship seemed to have a small amount of sailors, so the song ended about a minute after the man Emma saw jumped.

“Okay girls!" Zooey said, her legs morphing back into a tail, "Have fun!”

Emma took a running start and dove right off the cliff. She heard a chuckle from Nora as Zooey exclaimed, "Looks like Emma's excited!”

You absolute buffoons, Emma thought, snorting as her tail returned. She plunged head-first into the water.

It didn't take Emma too long to find him. He was about 20 feet away from the cliff's face, thrashing and flailing around in intense panic. Emma caught him just as he was trying to swim back to the ship.

"Hey!" Emma said, trying to catch his attention. The sailor whipped his head towards her with wide eyes. There was a beat of silence before the man spotted Emma's tail. His eyes grew impossibly wider as he screamed and tried to swim away.

"Wait, hey hey he- oh." Emma stopped as she saw the man was gasping and coughing. "I think you swallowed some water.”

The man's movements became more sluggish, and Emma realized that she needed to act soon. And that she needed to sing. 

Emma wasn't concerned with making him too entranced, she knew that without the others the song wouldn't do much. She just needed to make him drowsy or knock the guy out so she can easily drag him to her cave.

Emma sighed and took a breath. "Hey Mister Business, how do you do?”

She continued singing, watching the sailor's eyes droop. She quickly made her way to the foot of the rock, careful as to not stop singing or let go of the man.

As soon as she saw the hole on the side of the island, Emma moved ever faster. She only slowed the once she reached the mouth. She crawled onto the small patch of land in front of it and through the small entrance and turned her tail back into legs once she reached the dry part.

Emma laid the man down onto the cloth bed on the floor of the cave. She found the flint and lanterns she had salvaged from dead sailors and shipwrecks and quickly lit all of them. Emma then scrambled back to the sailor. He didn't seem to be breathing.

"Oh come oooonn," Emma said under her breath.

She pressed her hands to his chest and started to pump it. Water came spurting out of his mouth and the man began to cough and sputter. Emma quickly withdrew her hands and sighed in relief.

"Hey," Emma said, a relieved smile on her face.

The guy sat up and looked at her for a few seconds, trying to register what he was seeing. In this time Emma noticed his bluish-grey eyes, filled with wonder and fear. 

Pretty, Emma thought, barely noticing it.

The sailor suddenly realized what was happening and yelled again. He scrambled to the wall and shrunk, hugging it desperately. He stared at Emma with more panic in his eyes than the actual personification of Panic.

"Hey, hey, don't scream!" Emma whispered desperately. "They'll hear you!”

"Are you gonna eat me?” he asked, his voice meek.

Emma blinked and laughed at the assumption. She failed to notice the blush that suddenly appeared on the sailor's face. "No, I'm not going to eat you," she said. "Really, you are already funnier than most humans I find. 'Eat you,' that's cute. No, I won't eat you, I promise." Emma stood up. "The others might if they hear you though, so I suggest you keep quiet." She walked over to a tarp covering something sitting on a high rock. She pulled it off to reveal a large chest. Emma opened it. "What can I getcha?”

"...so you're a nice siren?" the man asked, calming down considerably. He straightened his back and muttered, "That's new.”

"Yeah, well this doesn't happen a lot," Emma said, rummaging through the chest. "I've only saved about... well, more than ten sailors over the course of a decade... or so." She made a face. "I wouldn't really know, I kinda lost track of time over the centuries.”

"How did you know I was alive?”

"Experience, buddy," Emma replied. "The sailors who fall straight down survive the most.”

"Uh huh," the sailor glanced around, then looked back at Emma since there wasn't much to look at. "So, the other sirens are going to eat me?" He made an uncomfortable face. "I don't want that to happen.”

"Well, maybe." Emma took out a pot and dry firewood. "Soup?”

The man was surprised. "Yeah, sure.”

Emma took out more utensils and ingredients. "You see, we sirens choose what we want to do," Emma explained. "All of us lure sailors to their deaths. Although I-" She turned and tapped a ladle to her chest. "-am sick of doing so." She turned back to the food. "But some choose what to do with the bodies, just as they choose whether to live under or above water." Emma walked over to the water trickling in and filled the pot with it before walking back to the chest. "Some just take the sailors' stuff, either from their bodies or the shipwreck, or both." She put some firewood on the floor. "And sometimes... they eat the bodies.”

"Oh," the sailor scrunched up his nose, which Emma thought was adorable. "Well, at least I was saved by you." He looked up at Emma. "Thanks, I guess.”

Emma smiled. She turned back to the fire she started and started to cook the soup.

"No problem." She chopped up some onions and dropped them into the pot. "What's your name?”

"Paûlos," he said, "but I met a guy on my travels who called me Paul, so I've been going by that since.”

"Paul. That's a nice name." 

"Thanks," Paul said, and smiled a little. "What- what's your name?"

"Emma," she replied. She then turned back to the soup. "I'll be working for a while, so...hm.”

Emma got up and took a stone bowl and a cup from the chest. She went out of the cave and returned shortly after, the bowl now filled with water. She then heated it and added some black grains. Paul tilted his head.

"What is that... Emma?" he asked.

Emma shrugged. "There was an Ethiopian guy who gave me this, said I should put these in hot water. I haven't tried it until now, so…"

"Wait. How long have you had that?" Paul asked, concerned.

Emma frowned at the bowl as she poured it into the cup. She was silent as she stared at it, trying to remember, then gave up and handed the cup to Paul. "A while," was all she said.

Paul looked into the cup, then back at Emma.

"Don't worry, I don't think you'll die from that," Emma said, adding more ingredients to the soup. "Those grains still seem to smell the same as when I first got them.”

Paul nodded and glanced back at the mug. Taking a leap of fate, he sipped the black concoction and savored it before it disappeared down his throat.

"This... is actually pretty good, Emma," he said, surprised.

Emma looked back at him, seemingly pleased. "Well, that's good then." She turned back to the fire. "Soup's done." 

Emma poured the soup into a different bowl and put a silver spoon in it. She handed it to Paul.

“Thank you," Paul said, putting down the mug. He downed a spoonful and hummed in delight. "This is delicious!”

"Thanks, I learned it from this Spanish sailor I saved once.”

Paul nodded again as he ate a bit more. "Say, what made you want to start saving people? It's not a trait I've ever heard of from a siren.”

"Well, Paul," Emma said, "I got bored.”

"Bored of...?" Paul pressed.

"Sitting and singing all day.”

"...that's all?" Paul was confused.

"Oh, and killing people is, I've heard, not exactly tasteful for your species.”

"You say that as if killing people is a minor setback to you." Paul noted, concerned. He momentarily glanced at the entrance.

Emma sniffed. "Don't judge me, we were trained from birth to kill, we're much less skittish with it than you human folk.”

"That's understandable." He went back to eating the soup. "But you won't kill me... right?”

Emma looked at Paul and softened. "No, I won't.”

Paul nodded, still slightly on edge. He continued eating, taking a sip from his drink every now and then.

"What gave you the impression I was going to eat you in the first place?" Emma asked.

"Your teeth," Paul answered, his mouth full. He quickly swallowed. "They're very sharp."

"Oh, yeah they are. We're all born with them for some reason.”

After saying this, Emma realized that Paul was still quite wary of her, though why she failed to see this until now was unclear.

"Hey, look," she said, "I swear, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead by now. Normal sirens are barbaric in their own right. But I'm not normal. Hell, everything about me indicates that. I hate singing, and I hate causing other people's deaths against their will." She paused, and sighed inwardly. "Look, I'm trying to help, okay? And for me to do that, I need you to trust me. You're a smart human, you can do that, right? Wait-" she snorted, "-that sounded threatening. Sorry. Just... just know that, if I wanted to, I could just knock you out and kill you whenever I want, so resistance is futile, alright? But please assume-" she closed her eyes and held up her hands, "-I'm perfectly safe.”

Paul nodded. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense," he said softly. He paused before handing the now empty bowl to Emma. "Can I just... have more please?" he implored sheepishly.

Emma smiled in relief and nodded before taking the bowl and refilling it.

She gave back the bowl. “Anyways, you’ll be staying here a few days, so get comfy.”

“Wait what?” Paul suddenly stood up, nearly spilling the soup and knocking over his mug on the floor.

“Careful with that stuff, they’re about a hundred years old,” Emma said, removing the pot and adding more wood to the fire.

“I can’t stay here a few days, I have to go back!” Paul exclaimed, panicking.

“If you go back now, the others will see you.” Emma stood up and faced him. Her face was serious. “Then they’ll kill you. The safest thing to do is to stay here while I build a raft for you.”

“But I-“

“No buts, buddy.” Emma grabbed his arms. “Listen Paul, think about the implications if you go out there. Think about them.”

Paul stared at her, afraid.  Emma wasn’t sure what he was afraid of.

“Paul, I’m perfectly safe, remember?” Emma reassured. “They’re not."

Paul finally sighed and nodded. “Okay Emma,” he said. “But I need to get out as soon as possible.”

“Agreed,” Emma said. She let go of Paul’s arms. “Now, stay here, I’m going to get supplies from your ship.”

“I don’t suppose I can take the ship, can I?” Paul said, sitting back down.

“Nope,” Emma said simply, standing at the entrance. She crouched down and took one last glance at Paul. She smiled. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

Her legs morphed back into a tail and Emma crawled through the opening, leaving an open-mouthed Paul.

☆

A few days passed as Emma built the raft. Over time she and Paul had time to bond. Strangely, Emma felt endeared to his personality. He was a shy guy, very polite. He seemed to be afraid of offending Emma, though there was really no need. Paul, on the other hand, soon became aware of the fact that, just as Emma said, she would have killed him in at least the first few days if she really wanted to. So he grew more relaxed around her, growing to appreciate her company. Paul even told bits and pieces of his life. He had hailed from Athens and was interested in theatre as a kid. 

"Theater? Like, the thing Zooey organized one time?" Emma said.

"What thing?”

"It was like storytelling, but everyone randomly sang and made weird movements sometimes," Emma explained.

Paul made a face. "That sounds weird. And terrible.”

"It was," Emma agreed.

"Well no, I just like storytelling in general," Paul digressed. "I loved watching the plays in the Temple of Dionysus and the festivals. I wanted to become an actor one day. But my dad said no.”

"Why not?”

"He wanted me to become a sailor. Said it made more money, or whatever. So I honored his wishes. I got a job shipping different supplies abroad. There was just one thing I overlooked." He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I was not sea compatible.”

"What do you mean?" Emma asked, eating some grilled steak.

"I got seasick easily," Paul said. "And I'm not the adventurous type, really. I'm not even that willing to move from Athens. I'd be content staying in my hometown.”

"But does it make you happy?" Emma inquired, taking a large bite out of the beef.

She chewed for a while before she realized Paul hadn't answered. She looked at Paul, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.

"Does it make me happy?" he asked. After a while he shrugged and settled with, "Well, I don't really know, Emma, I guess I never questioned it. I had a home, a dad, an interest, although I never really acted on it... well, I had a life. I never asked for anything else.”

"Did you have anyone else?" Emma implored. "A girlfriend, a boyfriend...?”

"Definitely not,” Paul said, laughing at the idea. "I liked people but... I'm not exactly the ideal male.”

"Well, you seem like a nice guy, Paul,” Emma said. “You probably deserve to follow your own passions.”

“Well thank you Emma,” Paul said, smiling a little. He continued to eat his own slice of cow. 

Conveniently, Paul had decided to help Emma with the raft as he had some experience with woodworking. Emphasis on the “some.”

“I tried it out once,” Paul said, tying together two planks. “Got several splinters and they hurt a lot, so I ended up quitting.” 

“Seems like you’re not exactly the type of guy to do anything dangerous,” Emma teased. 

Paul chuckled. That was another thing Emma liked about him for some reason. It was probably unrelated to the fuzzy feeling in her chest.

Oh Tartarus, she’s not stupid. She knows it’s probably directly related to the fuzzy feeling in her chest. 

“No,” he said, finished tying together the planks, “I guess not.” He aligned it to the rest of the tied wood. “The only reason I’m doing this is to speed up the process.”

Oh great, there was a pang in Emma’s chest. As if this could get any better.

 ☆

On the night they finally finished the raft, the two sat side-by-side on the tarp Paul had been sleeping on for the last few days. They stared at the raft and the oar sitting on top of it. The raft honestly wasn’t that impressive. It was a bunch of wood tied together securely in the shape of a rectangle. But there was a sense of accomplishment nonetheless, and the two appreciated it in silence.

“It’s… bad.”

They both nodded in mutual agreement.

“Well,” Paul noted. “If this kills me then you’ll have accomplished your actual purpose.”

Emma snorted. “Well, if this breaks it will probably break early on, so I might be able to save you.”

“Let's hope for the best,” Paul said. 

Emma nodded. “So, you want to go now, or…?”

“You know,” Paul yawned, “I think I need some proper rest before I go. Don't want to collapse while in view of the island.”

“True.” Emma stretched. “Well Paul...” She stood up and smiled down at him, though there was an underlying emotion behind her eyes. Paul couldn't quite identify what it was though. Emma, on the other hand, knew exactly what it was, and hated it so, so much.

“Let’s get ready for tomorrow.” 

Paul settled down as Emma blew out all of the lanterns. As she reached the last one, she glanced back at Paul, who was lying down on his tarp, a folded piece of cloth under his head. He glanced back at Emma.

“Goodnight,” she said, smiling at him.

Paul smiled back and closed his eyes.

As Emma lay down on her own cloth, she had the desire to rip that weird feeling out of her chest and beat it up. It was unnatural. She had never felt this before, and if she did, it was a long time ago and she didn't remember.

Emma sighed and lay silently in the dark for a few hours, unable to sleep. Tiring of the effort, she got up, deciding that maybe a late night swim would not be unfavorable. 

She exited the cave and regained her tail. Emma plunged into the sea. She recalled a man who told her once that water was cleansing. Perhaps he was right. Emma felt some weight lifted as she swam freely through the warm water. She ran her hand along the seafloor, disturbing some fish along the way.

“Sorry,” Emma mumbled. She lifted her hand and ascended a bit.

Emma circled the island, growing a little weary. But still, the exercise was freeing in a way. She wondered why she didn’t do this more. 

Emma closed her eyes, letting the feel of the water flow around her. She twisted her body through the sea, marveling at how easy it felt. 

Someone abruptly grabbed ahold of Emma’s shoulders. Her eyes shot open to see a face grinning widely, hair like tentacles swimming around wildly as if it had a mind of its own. Emma yelped, startled, and swam off as fast as she can.

“Emma! Wait!”

Emma halted. She knew that voice, despite having not heard it in a century. Could it be…?

Emma turned slowly. She saw a figure of a woman with… normal brown hair with black highlights. Similar to hers, though longer. She seemed taller than Emma. Her eyes were a deep dark brown. 

Emma couldn’t believe it. It was her.  

“Jane?” 

Jane smiled and swam towards Emma, who was trying not to cry. 

“Hey Emma,” she said.

☆

“I see your little crib hasn’t changed much,” Jane joked, looking around the cave. “Except of course, a raft and a guy. Who is not dead.” 

“Yeah,” Emma replied, plopping down on her makeshift mattress. Jane followed her. “What happened to you anyway? You’ve been gone for a century!” 

“Ah.” Jane plopped down beside Emma. “About that.”

“You didn’t tell anyone. You disappeared without a trace. We all thought the worst.” Emma couldn’t contain herself any longer. “Why did you leave? I was afraid! Afraid I’d never see you again! I-“ Tears spilled out and she started sobbing. 

Jane enveloped her in a hug, rubbing her back. “Hey,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

“I missed you so much,” Emma sobbed into Jane’s chiton. 

Jane only sighed and nodded. Guilt was starting to weigh on her shoulders. 

After Emma had calmed down a bit, Jane had offered to make something for her. Emma had asked for tea and guided Jane through the steeping process. 

“So, I’m going to explain why I disappeared, but to be honest? I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Jane confessed, leaning on the platform where the chest was. 

“That sounds promising,” Emma said sarcastically. Now that her sadness was taken care of, all that remained in Emma was light bitterness. 

Jane sighed and chewed her cheek. “So, truthfully…” She inhaled and looked Emma in the eye. “I… met someone.”

Emma raised a hand. “Stop, stop. I want you to stop right there.” She looked at Jane with an unimpressed raised eyebrow. “You left because you met someone?” 

“He washed up in my cave!” Jane protested. “He caught me by surprise. And besides-“ She walked over to Paul, freaking out Emma a little, and gestured toward him. “-I don’t think you have the right to question it.”

Emma’s face reddened madly. Jane smirked, a little amused and feeling victorious. 

“Oh shut up,” Emma snapped. “He’s not the first one I’ve saved.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jane said, checking the water in the pot. 

“Yeah, well- wait. You know?”

“Yeah. Sometimes I’d see you zoom underneath the water carrying some guy in your arms. Then I’d hear some grunts and you talking to a deeper voice several nights later. My cave’s not far from yours, you know. And I had nighttime swims too. Or walks, depends on what I felt like. Oh look.” Jane crouched down next to the pot, where the water was boiling. “The water’s ready.”

Jane grabbed a ladle and poured the water into two mugs with tea leaves. She handed one to Emma, who fumed silently. Jane sat back down and blew on her own tea. 

“But from what I’ve gathered, this guy right here-“ She looked at Paul, then glanced back at Emma with a smile on her face. “-is very different.”

“Why did you come back anyway?” Emma said, trying to steer the conversation away from the present topic. 

Jane’s smile disappeared immediately, and Emma almost felt bad.

Jane looked into her cup. “Mortals don’t last very long,” she muttered. “I should’ve known, but… I don’t know, I thought they’d live for at least two hundred years? But they don’t. Xanthos, he became… old and wrinkly at a much faster pace than I was expecting.” Jane shivered. “But I still loved him in a way. So I stayed by his side until he… died.”

“Oh,” Emma mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

Jane chuckled sadly and shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said. “It happens to all humans, I just wasn’t knowledgeable enough. Not…prepared.”

Emma took a sip out of her mug and patted Jane on the back, unable to recall any other types of comfort. 

“Thank you sister,” Jane said dryly. 

“Don’t thank me,” Emma snarked back. 

Jane giggled and smiled at Emma. She took another sip of her tea and glanced back at Paul. “So,” she began. “What’s the deal with him, huh? He seems pretty cute.”

Emma nearly choked on her tea. She ended up spitting some of it back out. “I-I guess? I mean,” Emma cleared her throat, trying to ignore Jane’s grin. “He’s like a… calf. Fragile.Sweet and shy. Polite.”

“You seemed pretty endeared by him,” Jane said, still grinning. 

“You had a lucky guess!” Emma exclaimed. 

Jane chuckled. “True, you got me there.” She drank her tea. “I just wanted to get back at you.”

Emma sighed and tried to finish the rest of her tea in peace.

“You probably want to go with him, don’t you?” 

“What makes you think that?” Emma said.

“Well, have you ever felt like this with any other poor sailor you’ve rescued?” Jane asked.

“…no,” Emma admitted.

“I imagine it must be disconcerting for you.”

“It’s terrifying. And unnatural. I’ve encountered so many other people before, why did this-” she stabbed herself repeatedly with her finger, “-only come out now?!” 

“You become attached… sometimes,” Jane stated, drinking more tea. 

Emma took in the sentence, moving it around her head and getting the feel of it. “Yeah… yeah I guess you could say that.” 

“Trust me, I know what you’ve been through,” Jane assured. “When I met Xanthos, the feeling I had… well, I actually had a similar reaction to you.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Emma asked. 

“I… didn’t want to risk anyone knowing.”

Emma felt hurt from that. “You didn’t trust me enough to tell me?”

“Look Em, I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t bother,” Emma interrupted. “I’m too tired to get mad at you. So I forgive you, though that was a jerk move.”

“Thank you Emma,” Jane sighed. She went back to drinking tea.

“Okay, well, maybe I do want to go with him,” Emma admitted quickly, “but what if the same thing that happened to you happens to me?”

Jane shook her head. “It won’t happen to you, Em.”

“What do you mean?”

“You hate the island.”

“Undoubtedly,” Emma agreed.

Jane snorted and continued, “All of the siren’s lifelines are connected to it, tied to it. Like… there are strings on us that are also attached to the island. As long as we stay here, that string won’t break, we won’t grow old. I never hated my life, so my string never broke, just became longer. But your string…” She gently took Emma’s wrist and traced an invisible thread from it. “It’s already frayed.” Jane made an exploding motion with her hand. She put Emma’s wrist down. “If you leave, you become mortal. So you’ll just be dying slowly with your fella over there. Hardly any emotional pain.” 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that,” Emma said, uncomfortable. 

“I think you have a while to get used to it.”

Emma huffed and set down her mug, folding her arms. “How do I know you’re not just getting rid of me?”

Jane chuckled. “I’m telling you this so you can do what you want. I’m not telling you to leave, that’s up to you. But I do know that you want to leave this life, you just needed a reason.”

Emma glanced back at Paul and sighed inwardly.

Jane noticed this. “See? You agree.”

Emma glanced back at Jane. Technically, all of the sirens were sisters, but Jane was the only person Emma really regarded as a sister. They were very close, and when Jane left, Emma felt like she had lost something important to her. 

“What about you?” Emma asked softly. “I mean, I could visit you from time to time, but… if I go, I’ll be gone for a long time.”

“I realize that, and I’m not entirely happy with it,” Jane said. “But I know you, Em, you want to be free. You started saving sailors just to defy what you were created for. You hate being a siren, and nothing would make you happier than simply not being one. And then you meet this guy that you may really like and want to spend more time with him, so maybe, you think, you want to go with him. And you’ve found your chance Em! This guy-” She gestured wildly to Paul, “-is your chance! To be truly happy!” She took Emma’s hands in hers. “And you should be happy! Honestly… that is something everyone should have.” 

“True happiness, huh?” Emma said, bowing her head. 

Jane nodded, smiling. “Well, if he turns out to actually be a jerk or becomes too boring, you can always come back.”

Emma chuckled, then nodded back slowly. “I… do want to go.”

“Then you go with him tomorrow. You fulfill your dream.”

“But… you just came back.” Emma looked at Jane with sad eyes. 

“If you get homesick, you can always visit,” Jane assured. “Your little sailor friend can help you. But you definitely won’t regret leaving, I know it.”

Emma smiled, relieved. She chuckled and lightly punched her sister’s shoulder. “You better miss me.”

“Oh trust me, I will,” Jane promised.

The two sisters embraced each other. 

☆

Paul opened his eyes blearily. He yawned and sat up, trying to process the sight. To his surprise, Emma was still asleep, and seemed well-rested. And even more surprising was the presence of another woman hugging Emma in her sleep.

Well, in Paul’s case, surprising, yes, but also terrifying. 

Paul screeched.

Emma immediately woke up and stood facing Paul. “What is it?” she screeched back, panicked. 

Paul pointed at Jane. “Who is she?” he whispered desperately.

Emma relaxed and looked at where Paul was pointing. “Oh, Jane?” she asked. 

Paul nodded fiercely. 

“Oh, she’s my sister. She went missing a long time ago. Apparently-” Emma shot a stink eye at the sleeping figure, “-she ran off with a cute sailor who washed up in her cave,” she said in a mocking voice. 

Paul snickered, and Emma smiled again. You know, she mused, Jane could be right.  

“I might follow in her footsteps in a while,” she said. “Coffee?”

“Yes please,” Paul said, sitting down again. “Wait- what?”

“What?” 

“‘Follow in her footsteps?’ You’re gonna run off with someone? Who?” 

Emma processed his words for a second as she collected water before bursting out in laughter. “Who else do you think?” she said. 

Paul reddened. “Wait, you want to go with me? Why?” 

“Well Paul,” Emma said, starting a fire, “I don’t think it’s gone unnoticed by you, but I hate being a siren very much.” 

“So much so that you’re willing to run away?” Paul inquired, surprised. “I didn’t think you hated it that much.”

“Well I do, and I…” Emma thought of what to say. “...decided to leave for once, with you.” 

“Can’t you go on your own? You don’t exactly need a boat to leave.”

Emma didn’t reply. She only sat by the heating water, desperately trying to think of an excuse. 

“Weeeell… I guess… some things are worth it,” she said, turning to smile softly at Paul. “And, I mean, I kinda had a job rescuing sailors, but Jane has graciously offered to take over for me,” she quickly added. “I’m free. So I guess a little adventure won’t hurt.” 

“You know I’m not fond of adventure, Emma,” Paul pointed out, a little amused. 

“If you go anywhere in this great expanse of water, you are asking for adventure,” Emma said, sprinkling in the black grains. 

“I… guess that’s true,” Paul muttered. 

“So, I believe-” Emma poured the drink into a mug and walked over to Paul, “-I’m going with you.”

Paul couldn’t help his smile as he took the mug. Emma saw this and felt the return of the fuzzy feeling. 

Goddammit, she thought, but didn’t make any other internal comment. 

Emma heard a grunt from the other side of the cave. Jane was awake.

Emma looked back to see Jane sitting up and yawning. She looked over at Paul and Emma watching her curiously. Jane grinned. 

“Well good morning, you two,” she said, standing up. “What’s this you got here Emma?” She stared at the brew in the pot.

“It’s a concoction… of sorts,” Emma explained. “Paul, this is Emma.”

“Hi,” Paul greeted quietly. 

“Hello there, human.” Jane greeted back. “Emma has told me quite a lot about you.”

Emma blushed. “Jane!” she hissed. 

“Sorry,” Jane said teasingly. “Mind if I have some of this drink?”

Emma huffed, the heat retreating from her face. “Sure.” 

The day went on normally, Emma collecting fruit and vegetables for them to eat. Paul took some and placed them in an old purse from a shipwreck for the travel. Jane hung out in Emma’s cave, striking up small conversations with Paul while Emma salvaged for supplies just in case. She cooked stew and found bread from the most recent ship. 

The sun settled below the horizon and turned the sky dark, allowing the stars to come out. Emma peeked out of the cave, hoisting the raft behind her. Paul held the other end back in the cave as Jane carried their supplies behind him. 

Emma glanced towards the top of the island. She heard the chattering of the sirens die down and the lamps going out. She saw a few of the others diving down into their own caves underwater. Soon everything had quieted down and the moon was in the sky. 

“Alright, everyone else is gone,” Emma whispered. “Push!”

Paul grunted as he heaved the raft out of the hole. Jane followed after them, watching the environment waringly.

“Everyone’s asleep?” Paul asked. “No one will hear us?”

“Well,” Emma grunted, pulling the raft fully out of the hole, “if we’re quiet enough. Some of them could still be awake, but they’re pretty far from us so… no. Hopefully.”

The raft plopped into the water with a quiet sploosh. It bobbed up and down as the waves pushed it around. Paul turned slightly green. Emma caught his expression.

“Paul?” she asked, seemingly concerned.

“Yeah?” Paul squeaked, turning to look at her. 

Emma smirked and jumped into the middle of the raft, wobbling slightly. 

Sploosh, sploosh. 

The raft bobbed more frantically. Paul gulped.    

“Come on,” Emma said, walking to the edge. “Or would you rather stay here with the murder maidens?”

“Of course, I can take care of you if you choose to stay,” Jane offered, shrugging. Emma shot her a dirty look and she chuckled. “Seriously though Paul, it’s not so bad. Try to suck it up. Or if you can’t, just puke into the ocean.”

“Don’t, you’ll inconvenience the fish.” Emma held out her hand to Paul and smiled comfortingly. “Let’s go.”

Paul nodded. “Okay,” he muttered, still slightly unsure. He took a deep breath and took her outstretched hand. Paul stepped onto the raft. 

Emma smiled wider. “Alright, and the other foot…”

Paul did as he was told and put his other foot on the raft. Immediately the vessel was put off-balance, making Paul yelp and flail his arms, staggering backwards, threatening to fall. 

Emma panicked, grabbing both of Paul’s arms and pulling him to the middle of the vessel, determined to keep balance. She gasped and tried to calm her breath. Emma looked up at Paul. 

“Are you okay?” Emma asked. 

Pau’s eyes were wide and he was breathing hard. He was panic-stricken. Paul looked down at Emma’s concerned face. 

“Y-yeah,” Paul said. He was starting to calm down. His mental stability was that of the raft, slowly going down to gentle bobs on the sea. Paul realized he was clenching Emma’s arms too tightly and relaxed them.

“Oh sorry,” he apologized.

“Oh no, no it’s okay,” Emma assured. 

After saying that sentence, Emma realized their exact position. They were grasping each other’s arms and staring at each other blank in the face. 

Emma blushed and awkwardly detached her arms from Paul’s. “Um, alright then,” she said. She took another glance at Paul before walking over to Jane, who was watching them amusingly. 

Jane, thank god for the small sliver of mercy in her, merely held out the bag of supplies and smirked, but otherwise said nothing. Emma very graciously snatched the package from Jane.

“Thank you,” Emma said.

Jane’s smirk morphed into a genuine smile. “You know, Emma, I’m actually really proud of you.”

“And that’s a surprise, now is it?” Emma joked. 

Jane chuckled and sighed. She looked at Emma and smiled, a little sad. “I hope you have a good journey. And a good life.” 

Emma smiled a little. “Thank you, Jane.” 

Jane spread her arms, inviting Emma. The latter accepted and hugged her sister tightly. 

Once they separated, Emma put down the bag of food and picked up the oar. She smiled, then grinned at Paul, feeling a little confidence build up within her. She grasped the oar tightly and lowered the paddle into the water. Slowly, but surely, she pushed it through the water.

The raft bumped against the land.

“Uh…” Jane said, “you’re supposed to row the other way.”

Paul, who turned a little nauseous again, nodded weakly. 

“Right,” Emma quickly corrected, a little flushed. 

She quickly pushed the oar behind her, and the raft started moving away from the island.

Emma truly smiled this time, and pushed it again. 

And again.

And again. 

Emma whooped happily as the few inches between her and the island became a few feet, then a few meters. She looked back at Jane, who was grinning too.

“Goodbye, Jane!” she called, waving happily.

Jane whooped too and waved back.

Emma grinned wider and glanced at Paul, ignoring the sudden yank in her gut. He seemed calmer now, and happier now that he was leaving the island and going back to his home. Emma was happy too. She felt it throughout her, leaving a warm feeling in her face, her chest. 

Yank. 

Emma grinned at the moon, feeling the wind brush her face. They were leaving.

Yank.

Emma was rowing a raft away from the island she hated with a man she felt some sort of strong connection with. 

Yank.

It felt great. Emma was invigorated. 

YANK. 

In a rush of joy, Emma suddenly turned towards Paul and took a step towards him. 

SNAP!

Emma screamed as pain overtook her body. It flooded her mind. Some part of her - she wasn’t sure what - was being pulled from her body. 

“Emma?” she could faintly hear Paul say. “Emma!” he yelled. 

The siren screamed as the pain throbbed, spreading throughout her body. Emma’s vision dimmed and Paul’s panicked face started fading until all she could see was black. 

☆

Emma’s eyes opened to a dark night sky. The stars twinkled overhead, greeting Emma and her headache. 

Emma sat up and groaned. Most of the pain was gone, but some had apparently remained. She clutched her head and shut her eyes, hoping that it would help dull the migraine. 

“Oh my gosh Emma!” Paul exclaimed, dropping the oar he had been holding and rushing over. The raft wobbled, and Paul immediately halted to steady himself. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, now walking slowly towards Emma, “I’m still not used to how unsteady this is. An actual ship is much more stable.”

Paul gently kneeled down beside Emma’s propped-up figure and gently smiled at her. He clasped his hands. “Are… you okay?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, my head hurts like Hades, but otherwise I’m alright.” 

Paul frowned and turned towards the supply bag. “Just lie down, alright? I’ll get you something to eat.”

Emma nodded again and lay down. She felt the bobbing of the raft as Paul moved towards the pouch and observed the speckles of light dotted across the sky.

“How long was I asleep for?” she suddenly asked. 

“Oh, um…” Paul, tight-lipped, tapped the rim of the bowl he held in his hand. “I think it was… two days.”

“What?!” Emma shot up and immediately yelped at the sudden sting in her skull. 

Paul turned to look at her, eyes wide. “Emma, don’t do that!” he squeaked. “Just lay down, please?”

“Mmhm,” Emma responded meekly, eyes closed. She lowered herself again, feeling the ache swirl around. 

Emma sniffed, then asked again, “Was it really two days?”

“Well, it might have been three,” she heard Paul reply. 

Emma sighed. “Zeus damn it. And we’re not near land?”

“There’s only two of us rowing this raft- well, one of me in the last few days,” Paul said. Emma heard a delicate trickle into a bowl coming from his direction. “And this is a very small vessel, so it’s no surprise we’re moving slowly. Here.”

Emma felt a nudge on her shoulder and opened her eyes. Paul was handing her a stone bowl filled with soup. 

“Get up slowly,” Paul implored. 

Emma did as he asked, propping herself up. She gratefully took the bowl from Paul’s hands and began drinking it. It was cold, but she wasn’t to complain - they had been in the middle of the sea for a few days, after all. 

“So… what happened to you?” Paul asked, his voice tinged with worry. “I was… really afraid you were dying. As if a god had smitten you.”

Emma lifted her head, licking some of the soup around her mouth. “No, I think…” She furrowed her brow. “Jane said that once I would leave, the connection between the island and I would sever.”

“Connection?” Paul inquired. 

“She described it like a thread, tying me to the life force of the island. It was already loose since I hated it there, but it wouldn’t fully cut off until I left for good.” Emma winced. “Which means… I’m not immortal anymore.” 

“Wait, you’re not?” Paul blurted. Emma detected disbelief as well as guilt in his voice. “I- are you going to be okay?” 

Emma shrugged. “I suppose so. Being a mortal can’t be that bad. I mean, you’ve turned out okay.”

“Barely,” Paul mumbled, worry lines still etched into his face.

Emma noticed this, and quickly tried to reassure: “Hey, don’t feel bad about it. It’s certainly not your fault. I asked for this, and it’s honestly better than my crappy life as a siren.” 

Paul nodded, a relieved smile making its way onto his face. 

“Well, get some rest,” he said, carefully standing up. “I have to man the raft and see if anything wants to, uh, eat us.”

Emma smiled up at Paul. “Sounds good to me.” 

Paul lingered for a bit before walking over to the oars at the other end of the raft.

Emma finished her soup and put the bowl back into the bag. She gradually laid back down, hearing the gentle splish, splish of the oars as Paul began to row. She took a deep breath and took in the sight of the stars twinkling down at her. She processed the fact she was now free. 

Emma was free.

Slowly, as the boat rocked her like a baby in a cradle, with the comfort the stars provided and the calming sounds of the ocean clouding her mind, Emma soon drifted to sleep.

Maybe, just maybe, the gods were kind sometimes. 

[yilingradishfairy]

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán & Lán Jǐngyí, Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán/Lán Jǐngyí, Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Characters: Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán, Lán Jǐngyí Additional Tags: Don't worry, WangXian is coming, we've got some setup to do first, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Alternate Universe - Wizards, Alternate Universe - The Princess and the Frog (2009) Fusion, or rather, the book that movie was based on, Untamed Spring Fest 2020 Summary:

Jin Rulan had no idea how this happened. Really. He should in no way be blamed for the events that transpired to get him here. Running for his life. Or rather … hopping. He couldn't believe his first real life-or-death situation is at the threat of an average garden reptile. Oh yes. The very real threat to his life was a freaking garter snake. Harmless to him normally, wouldn't have even bothered him as recently as two hours ago, but things have changed. He has changed. Rulan spared a moment to glare again at his new frog body with distaste. "Come on!" Jingyi urged, hopping in front of him. Rulan directed his scowl toward the other enchanted boy. "This is all your fault," he panted, turning his ire on Jingyi. "No, it's not!" He returned indignantly, even as he helped Rulan hop over a fallen log. "The witch said a kiss from a royal would turn me back. You're royal, and you kissed me, so I don't know what went wrong." ( Or, the Frog Princess AU no one asked for.)

A/N: The prompt for Untamed Spring Fest 2020 – Day 19 was Journey. I was reading (fic) and having lots of feels about Jin Ling’s bracelet and suddenly had the –cursed– brilliant idea to mash it up with E.D. Baker’s Frog Princess (which is the book series that heavily defined much of my childhood and also inspired the Disney movie Princess and the Frog). So, this fic is set in the world of Frog Princess. Functionally, a royal AU plus witches. For example, WWX spends his days tinkering with talismans in Lotus Pier as the resident Guardian Mage, or something. But he and some others are going to be the closest things to Cultivators in this AU. Everybody else is just going to be regular old royals. So partially because it's AU and mostly because I personally mix up Jin Ling and Jingyi when I'm reading too fast, I'll be using courtesy names mostly. So that means JL = Rulan and JC = Wanyin. 

Jin Rulan has no idea how this happened. Really. He should in no way be blamed for the events that transpired to get him here. Running for his life. Or rather … hopping. He couldn't believe his first real life-or-death situation is at the threat of an average garden reptile.

Oh yes. The very real threat to his life was a freaking garter snake. Harmless to him normally, wouldn't have even bothered him as recently as two hours ago, but things have changed. He has changed. Rulan spared a moment to glare again at his new frog body with distaste.

"Come on!" Jingyi urged, hopping in front of him. Ah yes, the frog who had started this whole mess. He directed his scowl toward the other enchanted boy.

"This is all your fault," he panted, turning all his ire on Jingyi.

"No, it's not!" He returned indignantly, even as he helped Rulan hop over a fallen log. "The witch said a kiss from a royal would turn me back. You're royal, and you kissed me, so I don't know what went wrong."

They hopped frantically for a few more seconds, narrowly escaping some of the snake’s lightning-quick strikes, before Jingyi wondered aloud, "Maybe you kissed me wrong?"

Rulan almost face-planted at that. "Do we have to talk about that now?" He yelped.

Jingyi pouted as they hopped. "You brought it up," he muttered as if he couldn't hear him.

Suddenly, the snake struck again, nearly nabbing the distracted Jingyi. Rulan impulsively pushed him out of the way, sending him sprawling. The snake turned enterprising eyes on Rulan and sunk its fangs into his flank. Rulan's panicked flailing slowed as the neurotoxin spread through his bloodstream. "Jingyi," he gasped out.

"Rulan!" Jingyi shouted, scrambling back toward him. He reached out toward Rulan, but the snake grasped its paralyzed prey in its jaws and shot off toward the water. Rulan thrashed frantically, but his valiant attempts at escape did not loose his enemy's jaw.

They splashed into the water, and the snake began to unhinge its jaw, slowly enveloping Rulan's amphibious body. He jerked, trying to wiggle out to no avail.

"Spread your legs!" He heard Jingyi shout. He drew his eyebrows together in confusion - or at least he would have if he had eyebrows to draw and control over his body. "Keep your legs wide open! That'll keep it from swallowing you."

Rulan turned his attention to keeping his front legs spread wide. The snake maneuvered his body against a rock to try and leverage his body into its mouth. Suddenly, a green blur dropped down onto its head, and the impact sent Rulan flying. "Swim!" Jingyi yelled, tugging him along down the river. They swiftly swam downstream for several minutes until they felt confident they were out of danger.

"We should make camp for the night," Jingyi suggested, slowing his pace. Exhausted, Rulan could only vaguely nod his head and follow along. He trailed behind Jingyi as they crawled up the bank and around the edge of the forest until Jingyi found an acceptably empty tree hollow. Rulan slumped down as soon he clambered inside, stretching his aching unfamiliar muscles.

"Well, uh," Jingyi started awkwardly. "Good night."

"G'night, Jingyi," Rulan sighed, eager for this day to just be over.

Silence reigned. Well, not really silence. The forest floor was alive with noise. Bug chatter, leaf rustles, and whatnot. But the only thing that could be heard here, in this tiny tree hollow with just them, was the sound of their exhausted breathing. Rulan was listening to his breaths even out and his heartbeat slow (has his heart ever beat that slow?! This is safe, right? It's just because he's a frog now?), when he heard the whisper.

"Rulan?" he heard Jingyi start tentatively. Rulan stubbornly refused to answer. This was the -boy- frog that had turned him into this slimy green thing and endangered his life with a freaking garter snake. What could he possibly have to say?

He heard Jingyi sigh, sounding a bit sad and alone. "Thanks for saving me," he said, which is ridiculous. Rulan didn't save him. He just wasn't quite in control of his limbs yet. Yeah. Totally a freak accident that he had knocked Jingyi out of the way of the snake's attack, Rulan reasoned. And anyway, Jingyi saved me more, he reminded himself petulantly. Telling me how to keep from being swallowed and knocking me from the snake’s mouth and tugging me along with him down the stream.

"I'm glad you didn't die," Jingyi declared quietly. He then turned over and apparently went to sleep.

Rulan wanted to scream. All he had wanted to do was sleep, but now his brain was awake and thinking things.

He regretted it, he told himself firmly. He regretted it terribly.

He wished he had never kissed Jingyi. He wished he had never even met the brutally honest frog who had begged for kisses and yet made him feel more seen than anyone else, outside of his family. He wished he had never bargained to help him, even if he’d had no way to think it would turn out like this. He wished to take it all back. Right?

Rulan cracked open an eye to scrutinize at his companion's sleeping form. Is that where he went wrong? he wondered. Maybe he should have listened to xiao-jiujiu about not spending all day in the swamp. But it’s his favorite place in all of Lotus Pier’s, as it was his mother’s.

The swamp is Rulan’s favorite because it reminds him of home, of his mother’s Lotus Pavilion. (Ironically, his father had built that Pavilion to remind her of that lotus swamp from her home.) But both places reminded Rulan of the times when he and his parents were able to forget the pretentious behavior of their station. Koi Castle was so stuffy and suffocating. Rulan would rather spend his whole day in the Lotus Pavilion. He liked to dig his toes into the mud. He liked to listen to his mom regale him with tales of her unruly childhood with his wild uncles. He liked to wheedle his parents into water fights where they would all laugh and his dad would try to catch his mom when she slipped and he would fall instead and then Grandma Jin would yell at all of them. But Lotus Pier is just as good. He liked to swim with his da-jiujiu and shoot arrows with his xiao-jiujiu and watch them cry over his mother’s soup. He liked to feel his face stretch with a smile he could never wear at home.

He missed his mother. He missed his father. He even missed his shushu. He doesn’t know why they bundled him off so quickly to his uncles in Lotus Pier only for both of them to leave him too.

He had just wanted someone to talk to. Not any of the simpering, back-stabbing idiots he had to bring with him. Not even any of the disciples at Lotus Pier (even though they were markedly more sincere and kind to him). Just someone who would get him. As a person, not a status.

Is that where he went wrong?

Okay, maybe making friends with a frog hadn’t his smartest move. But really, who could it have hurt? The frog may have had the most contrary personality he had ever met (that he hadn't been related to). Yet, underneath the savage honesty and incessant requests for kisses, Jingyi was surprisingly insightful. He seemed to understand Rulan, even if he rarely agreed with him. Rulan had met plenty of people who wanted something from him. Practically everybody not related to him only talked to him if they wanted something. But no one had ever been like Jingyi. He would request a kiss, then immediately insult his clothing or his hairstyle or his bracelet. But he was never malicious about it. Rulan had heard some much nicer things said (by his shushu or once even his mother) that had cut down the target more cruelly than any insult ever could have. Jingyi’s insults seemed … careless? Ignorant, certainly, but usually insignificant. Jingyi just couldn’t keep his thoughts inside of his head, rude or not.

Rulan had wanted to help. Jingyi seemed so distraught, and he didn’t really deserve this. (Okay, actually Rulan has spent more than an hour with Jingyi. Jingyi had probably deserved it. But he’s sorry now! And if Rulan could help him out of this predicament, shouldn’t he help? Isn’t that his princely duty?) Rulan had planned to take him to see his da-jiujiu once everyone comes back. He only vaguely knew the curse-breaking spree of the cultivation world that da-jiujiu had been on for much of Rulan’s childhood, then suddenly given up on a few years ago. (Nobody would give him any details.) But Rulan knew that Wei Wuxian was the person he would want to talk to about breaking this kind of curse. He said as much to Jingyi. But his family was taking so long coming back, and no one would tell him anything, and Rulan felt so helpless. Surely a kiss wouldn’t hurt. Right? So, he had kissed Jingyi anyway.

Is that where he went wrong?

Or maybe he did kiss him wrong. With that distressing thought, Rulan fell asleep, his dreams full of kisses, green slimy skin, and Jingyi.

Next scene should be up later today. Still in editing stages.

Everybody, stay safe and wash your hands!

[vanilluhbeaux]

Not Another Au!

vanilluhbeaux (distinque)

Chapter two 

  A deadly silence overtook the classroom, deep breaths being held collectively in their chest and multiple pairs of eyes stared at the boy with half white and half red hair. Shouto felt their eyes gazing at him in shock and horror, but continued to stare only at the curly haired boy with green eyes. The boy stared back at him, his eyes wide but saying nothing, still as a statue. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly through full, parted lips

“I’m going to kill that bastard,” an angry voice said, grabbing Shouto’s attention. Whipping his head around, he found an angry blonde staring at him, a murderous glint in his red eyes. Rolling his eyes, Shouto turned his attention back to the pretty boy with pretty eyes, just in time to catch him move his lips.

“Kacchan!”

The first word Shouto heard out his mouth was someone else’s name—and he couldn’t help but feel jaded by it. It rolled off the tongue easily, as if he’d been saying it his entire life. There was no reason why his first word should’ve been anything else—though there’s no reason why it shouldn’t have been, either. He did love the way his voice sounded, however. It was enthusiastic and bright, and it would’ve bought a smile to his face—had “Kacchan” not spoke.

“I’m gonna beat up that green haired bitch too,” Kacchan affirmed, looking at the girl next to him, who furrowed her small eyebrows. She pouted her full lips at him and huffed with disdain, crossing her arms across her chest. “But I’m going to kill that mismatched fucker first.”

“Katsuki!” she screamed, slamming her hands down on her desk.

“Ochako!” he screamed back, his voice strained. The class let out a collective groan that seemed to resonate in Shouto’s soul. Judging by their responses, these two arguing was not anything they wanted to be around. “If anyone’s going to die in this bitch, he’s going to be first,” he finished, looking Shouto in his eyes.

“Nobody’s gonna die, babe,” she said, rolling her amber eyes and placing a hand on her round cheeks.

“We don’t know that anymore!” he argued back. “Anything we had stopping this shit is gone because Deku decided he wanted to be a fucking attention whore!”

“I didn’t do anything,” the green eyed boy squeaked from his seat in the back of the classroom. “I’ve just been sitting here this whole time. It’s not my fault I’m cute.” He threw his hands up as he shrugged, and shook his hair out of his eyes a little.

“Okay confidence!” a girl with light tan skin and yellow eyes, Mina Ashido, said from the front of the classroom, “I see you, boo!” Her pink hair whipped around her head as she looked at Ochako and called, “Are we still going to the pool? ‘Cause I still wanna go.”

“She’s not going any-fucking-where,” the blond yelled, putting a defensive hand on her shoulder. “Not while there’s a fucking curse on all of us! And your stupid ass shouldn’t want to go, either,” he muttered the last part, purposely lowering his voice so that she wouldn’t hear him, but she did anyway. Ochako, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms across her chest and furrowing her brows.

"You're not my dad," she said, defiantly.

"But you call me daddy, so shut the fuck up."

Before she could open her mouth to retort, the bell rang—a long, loud sound that echoed throughout the entire building. Slowly, the students began rising from their seats, running over to their friends before heading to lunch. "So what're you in the mood for, fluffy? I want a good burger," Denki said, slinging his arm around Shinsuo, who either didn't notice or mind enough to remove it. He kept his nose buried deep into his phone, scrolling through his library to find a new song to play while walking to the cafeteria. "But ony if there's fries with it—curly fries. I fucking love curly fries," Denki continued.

"I like curly fries too...and call me Shinsuo," he said, throwing a glance at Denki, his eyes lighting up slightly.

"So you can speak? I thought you were blind or something."

"You're a moron." With a roll of purple eyes, he turned up the volume of his phone, intent on drowning out the world—or at least the barely-passing student talking in his ear.

"What's in your headphones?" he said, pulling a white earbud out and dropping it.

"I only listen to thug music," Shinsuo said, showing his phone with a proud smile on his face and popping his dropped headphone into Denki's ear. You can stand my umbrella-ella-ella, eh eh eh, echoed throughout his ears. "Rihanna's the G.O.A.T.—the greatest of all time. She's savage," he said, carrying onto his own world.

On the otherside of the classroom, Todoroki stood aloof, Deku staring at his with large, bright eyes. "Thank you for noticing me," he started, looking up at the taller teenager with stars in his eyes, "You acknowledged me...even after knowing that you could die, you still chose to see me. It's been so long since anyone's noticed me—which doesn't make a whole lot of sense because I'm the main character, but whatever."

"Weird flex but okay," Shouto said, blowing off what Deku said and preferred just to look at him. He cocked his head to the side as the gears in his brain turned, red hair falling into his grey eyes. "Wait, what the fuck, Deku? Run that back," he said, twisting his fingers in circles.

"One," he began, "my name is Izuku Midoriya."

"Whatever, just say that again," he demanded, pushing the hair out of his eyes. He knew that he had to be mistaken—that he hadn't heard what he just thought he heard.

"I'm the main character?"

"Further back."

"Nobody noticed me?"

"Further."

"Knowing you could die?"

So he did hear what he thought he heard. "Yeah—that—what the fuck? When the fuck—why would anybody die?" he said, throwing his hands up in the air, a confused look crossing his features.

"It's the disaster," Momo said, crossing her arms across her chest and a frown forming on her lips, "we don't know what happens—or why, really. Only that it does happen."

"What the fuck is 'it'?!" Shouto said, his voice aggressive and exasperated.

"Every year, people in this classroom and people close us to die—in horrible ways. Thirty years ago, there was a student in class 1-A named Yagi Toshinori, and everybody loved him. He was insanely popular—always smiling. One day, he got murdered in the building—they found his intenstines outside of his body. But his classmates loved him so much that they kept acting like he was still with them. And ever since that year ended, there's been an 'extra' student in the class. A dead one," Momo said, her voice tight and angry, "To account for them, we ignore one student from the class. It's worked for six years—until you ruined it, Todoroki!"

"You just said that you didn't know what happened or why," Shouto said, a second away from tears his hair out.

"I lied for suspense," Momo shrugged, walking away from the group, grabbing a girl with short, purple hand's and pulling her out of the classroom.

"What does any of this shit mean?" Todoroki said, looking back at Izuku. The boy stared at him with bright eyes, and opened his mouth to speak, but the words were stolen from his throat. Before he could warn him, a strong hit came from the side of his face, throwing his off his balance.

"It means that you fucking killed us all, dumbass!" Katsuki yelled, the girl with auburn hair—Ochako—gripping his shoulder with strength that he didn't think she possessed. "All because you just had to talk to the fucking loser? I swear to God if anyone dies, you're going next," he threatened, his finger pointed in Shouto's face.

"Bakugou!" a taller boy yelled, "I understand that you're angry—"

"Eat a dick, Iida," he hissed back, "My girlfriend has asthma. You don't know shit."

"I'm sorry everyone," Ochako apologized, gripping his shoulders tighter than before, pulling him away from the small group forming. "We're leaving," she whispered in his ear, and he allowed her to lead him away. She dropped her hand from his shoulder and it found itself in his larger hand, intertwined where she felt like she was supposed to be. As they left out of the classroom, she rested her head on her shoulder, his skin warming her cheek. They turned down the hallway, but stopped before the cafeteria, Bakugou taking a turn that Ochako didn't expect. She cocked a small eyebrow but said nothing—there was rarely anything Bakugou could do to surprise her at this point in their relationship. She felt him lead her down an almost unfamiliar hall, but they stopped in front of a few lockers.

A fierce blush overtook her cheeks as she felt him cup her face with his hand. His lips graced her forehead and she closed her larger, amber eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to you," he whispered against her skin. She nodded at this, a dreamy sigh escaping her lips. "There's so much we haven't gotten to do yet...I don't want to lose a second with you."

A small smile crossed her face, and she bought his forehead down to her own, rubbing her nose against his own. "You're not going to miss a thing, babe," she said, gripping his free hand. "Nothing." She pushed herself up on her toes, bringing her lips to his and delivering a small, chaste, kiss. "I promise, we're gonna get through this."

x

The cafeteria was crowded by the time they arrived, though Mina saved the couple's seats—unfortuntely, they were right across from Todoroki and Izuku, much to Katsuki's dismay. As soon as he sat down, he stared Izuku in his bright green eyes and said, "I still need to kick your ass."

Izuku nodded, saying, "Looking forward to it." He took a bite out his sandwich, chewing.

"Are we still going swimming today, Ochako?" Mina said, smiling as she sipped her soup.

"Yeah, we can go after class today. It's super hot out today and I wanna go before it starts getting cold out," Ochako confirmed. She threw a glance at Katsuki, who nodded at her, seemingly reading her mind. "He's coming, too," she said, throwing a thumb at her boyfriend, "And you two can come along. It's been forever since I was allowed to talk to Izuku." Her bright eyes looked at both Todoroki and Izuku, and she smiled softly.

"Don't come, Half 'N Half," Katsuki added, looking at him without fear.

"I'm going to come anyway," he responded, slurping his noodles loudly.

"Oop," Mina said, looking up from her food, "So you're bold bold." Katsuki threw a mean look towards her, though she didn't notice, simply smiling into her food. "Gone head; I ain't mad at cha," she finished, popping a fry into her pink lips.

"We're coming too!" Denki called, walking up to their small table with Mineta and Shinsuo, the latter of which pointing a disgusted look towards the former. "You know me and Mineta can't pass up a pool opportunity," he added, smiling softly.

"Captain Creep can't hang with us," Mina said, glaring at the shorter boy, "but y'all can slide through."

"Hey," Mineta said, "I resent that. And considering someone," he said, looking at Shouto, who very calmly flipped him off, "decided to screw us all, I want to spend what could be my last day on Earth surrounded by beautiful women in very little clothing. And you do not get to decide how I live my life."'

"And you don't see anything wrong with anything you just said?" Izuku asked, taking another bite of his sandwich. "Because there was so much wrong with what you just said."

"Like what?" he asked, incredulous.

"Those 'beautiful women'," he said, putting air quotes around beautiful women, "don't want you staring at them. I'm sure they're not trying to surround you, either."

"I mean...okay?"

"You're objectification of women is disgusting, fucking weirdo," Katsuki said, rolling his eyes. "And you do realize that the more people that go—the more likely it is that someone's gonna die? Because that is exactly how this works, morons." He sipped his drink before a lightbulb went off in his head, and a sick smile crossed his face. "You know what, fuck it, let's all go. And if Mineta is the one who dies, I won't kill Todoroki. I'll still fuck Deku's ass up though."

"My name's not Deku," Izuku said.

"Your name is whatever I say it is, Deku."

"My father made me promise to stay home today," Shinsuo said, finally speaking up. "And I'd rather not hang out with this purple pervert, either."

"You have taste," Mina said, a small smile toying on her lips. "So we're all going?" A small nod from most of the table confirmed it, and Mina didn't miss the way Katsuki grabbed Ochako's hand from under the table. She sipped her tea quietly.

[welshjule]

Doyawannarootorwhat?

January 1982

 It was snowing the day my family left Cardiff for a new life in Australia.

I was eighteen, living with my mum, dad and two younger sisters and none of us knew what we were doing!

We had never even been on a plane before and the furthest we had ever traveled was  Pontins in Prestatyn.

My dad’s brother and his family had emigrated to Perth and my parents had asked my sisters and myself if we wanted to go and live there. It all sounded really exciting at the time and we had travelled to Australia House in London about a year before and passed the interview.

But now, we were having second thoughts because the three of us had steady boyfriends and we had sworn undying love and absolute faithfulness to them, like only teenagers can. So, it was a very dramatic departure, with our ‘soulmates’ shivering in the street as we drove off.

Foreigner was playing ‘Waiting for a Girl Like You ‘on the car radio and the back seat was filled with brokenhearted sobbing as the three of us tried to out-do one another in our pain and suffering.  We only got about five minutes up the road before my father turned around from the front seat and yelled:

“If you think I’m listening to this sh*t all the way to Heathrow, you can think again. If you don’t pack it in, we’re not stopping at the services.’’

We soon shut up. We loved the services.

All kids loved the motorway services. They weren’t all about petrol. There was an air of excitement, as everybody escaped from the family car and did their own thing for half an hour. The video arcades were filled with flashing lights and loud music and they were a magnet for teenagers, who lined up to play Space Invaders and drive pretending cars at 500 miles per hour.

That didn’t interest me.

I went straight into WH Smith’s and bought my two favorite magazines, ‘Jackie’ and ‘Blue Jeans’ and sat down to a breakfast of sausage, beans and chips. I was soon lost in the ‘problem pages’ and an article on smokey eye make-up tips.

Then, we were back on the road.

In 1982, flying on a jumbo jet was a really big deal. It was glamorous and exciting and people dressed up for the adventure.

It all appealed to my inner diva and I was channeling Debbie Harry, who was my idea of cool.  

So a few hours later, with my ash highlights, Adam Ant pirate shirt and a sexy Jackie Collins novel in my handbag, I nabbed a window seat on the massive plane. Pressing the button on my seat, I ordered a Bloody Mary, put on my complimentary airline socks and lit up a fag.

There was absolutely no sense of safety in the air back then; The smoking seats were at the rear of the plane but the smoke just wafted over everybody in a thick smog. The cabin crew dished out as much free alcohol as a passenger could drink, everybody had a pocket full of lighters and combined with my mother’s duty-free Opium perfume the entire place was a powder keg.

I f*cking loved the Eighties!

But most worrying was that I was invited up to the to meet the pervert pilot three times in the first two hours. Mum and Dad were completely oblivious to this man wanting me all up in his cockpit but this geezer had no chance.

He’s in charge of gravity for God’s Sake!

Why would I interrupt the deviant responsible for keeping hundreds of people 30,000 feet up in the sky? As far as I was concerned, he didn’t need any distractions. You’ve got one job. Concentrate!

Anyway, the glamour soon wore off.

The feature film was ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ but I couldn’t tell you anything about it. With one screen up at the front of the plane, Harrison Ford was the size of a Lego block and the earplugs kept jumping out of my ears. Soon there were kids screaming, spines contorting and full-on fights over the precious arm-rests.

There were no straight-through flights then and for some reason, our journey seemed to involve changing planes at every Middle Eastern airport on our way to Australia, and thirty- eight years ago those places were intimidating. Security guards and police patrolled everywhere carrying guns and scaring the crap out of all the travelers with their blank glares.

Trying to find any kind of airport staff who could speak English was like hunting for a unicorn!

Hot, tired passengers walked around in a confused, sleep-deprived daze and we were all lugging huge suitcases (with no wheels), winter coats, overnight bags and duty-free booze. Everybody was on edge and scared they would miss their connecting flight which was a real possibility.

Walking into my first public toilet in these here parts was a real culture shock I could have done without because there were no toilets in the toilet!

I opened one door after another until it dawned on me that the hole in the floor was for squatting over. The place smelled like a sewer from the dark ages and my aching bladder dried up like a prawn cracker as I held my nose and made for the exit.

‘’You’ve got to go Ju,” my Mum warned, “We’re going to be here for hours, just hold your breath.”

“Mother, I am eighteen not ten,’’ I replied, ‘if I tried to squat on that putrid, wet floor and fell in that shit, I’d grab a gun off one of those guards and blow my brains out!”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” she sighed, spotting a little old lady sitting behind a wooden table counting change.

“Do you think she works here?” my Mum whispered,

“Oh my God, of course she works here, who would willingly sit in this cesspit. “

I was young and rude and had no regard for a woman who was forced to do this disgusting job day after day.

“Mum, I can’t stay here another second. I’m literally going to catch some shit-borne plague virus.’’

I ran for the exit and as the door closed behind me, I heard Mum asking for some toilet paper. I didn’t rate her chances because in those days toilet paper was a bit of a novelty and travelers caught short were pretty much up shit creek!!

Eventually, after missing a connecting flight and spending the night in Abu Dhabi, we arrived in Perth, Western Australia and were picked up at the airport by my dad’s brother and his family.

It was the middle of summer and as we walked outside to the carpark, the heat hit us like a punch and we stopped dead. We couldn’t catch our breath and I could feel my nostril hair burning!

‘’Bloody hell Tommy, how do people live and work in this?’’ asked my sweating father who was struggling with a suitcase the size of a small car. ‘It’s like being cooked.’

My aunty and uncle laughed and told us that it was about forty-two degrees. But apparently, we would get used to it.

Living with our relatives, the heat was no hardship. Their gorgeous house had air-conditioning and was as cold as a meat freezer.

Everything had a new, exciting, holiday feel and we played ‘It’s a Knockout’ for hours with our cousins in the swimming pool while our uncle barbecued steaks the size of hubcaps.

Perth is a beautiful city and in 1982 it had a very laid-back vibe. There was a strong American influence and we loved going to milk bars and drinking milkshakes from giant metal beakers. Sales assistants smiled and told us to ‘have a nice day’ and there were palm trees growing on the side of the road.

The first time I went to a drive-in movie I felt just like Sandy from the film ‘Grease.’ Waitresses on roller skates wore cute uniforms and carried trays of French fries and hamburgers. There were groups of teenagers everywhere, smoking cigarettes and sharing sneaky bottles of Jim Beam.

The movie playing was American Gigalo, but nobody was interested in Richard Gere.

Instead of cars, most boys and girls were making out in ‘shaggin’ wagons.’

These were small panel vans that were basically a bedroom on wheels. They first became popular with surfers because there was plenty of room for a group of mates with their surfboards to travel to the best beaches.

Now, horny boys all over Australia worked their butts off for one of these prized ‘sin bins’ and would pimp them out with shag pile carpet, surround sound speakers and strobe lighting. Add a mattress, a bong and an esky full of beer and it was a guaranteed shag pad.

The rule was ’If it’s rocking don’t come knocking,’ so kids waited their turn to make great memories or more often, drunken mistakes.

I thought it was a brilliant idea. A million times better than trying to mate in a sedan in the middle of winter.

Almost all the boys had a mullet haircut, which was short on the top and long at the back (think Billy Ray Cyrus) and the girls had curly, spiral but mostly frizzy home perms. The Aussie boys described their mullets as ‘business at the front and party at the back’ and they could definitely party!

The novelty of home pizza deliveries, bronzed lifeguards and breath-taking beaches made life blissful.

Had we landed in paradise?

Was this place absolutely perfect?                                                                                

Not quite, as I was about to find out.                                                                                                                

The first time my sister and I went into the city on a Friday night it was like being transported to Las Vegas. We were with a young aussie bloke called Brian who worked with our auntie and he was really excited to show us his town.

Brian was more Australian than Dame Edna and we didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. He said things like ‘crook’ and ‘mongrel’ and ‘fair dinkum’ and sounded like a seventy-year-old sheep shearer.

“Youse two are good looking Sheila’s, so if you want to crack on, go for your life” he told us.

Walking along Hay Street, the warm, balmy breeze gave the place a tropical feel and the lights from the restaurants and clubs added to the excitement. The air smelled like Chinese food, petrol and every teenager’s sexy dream.

Boys were hanging out of souped up Chevy’s and Toyota Camry’s, doing laps and calling out to all the girls while Jimmy Barnes and ACDC blasted out of their speakers.

Everybody seemed to be young, loud and ready to party and photographers were everywhere, taking pictures of the revelers for the weekend newspapers.

Beautiful bronzed girls walked around in bikinis, heading for nightclub ‘beach parties’ or Miss West Coast beauty competitions.

Pinocchio’s was the most popular place to spend a Friday or Saturday night and it blew our minds. The place was enormous with a huge dancefloor on the ground floor and two bars. Upstairs were more places to drink and dance and the place was packed.

It was all so exciting, The Police were singing ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’, and we were looking good.

There were dozens of blokes at the bar and we could see some of them checking us out and grinning at one another. Brian found some people he knew from work so my sister and I went and sat down in a velvet booth. Sipping our Cinzano and lemonades we looked at the dancefloor.

It was wall to wall girls, dancing around their handbags (yes, even here) and absolutely no boys whatsoever. Eventually, with Whitney Huston singing her heart out we hit the dancefloor.

Now, I was used to being wooed by Welsh boys and God love them, they had to have some bottle. If they liked a girl, nine times out of ten she was with a group of friends and the poor bloke would have to risk being ridiculed or rejected by all of them.

But many a boy took a chance and would ask for a dance or if he could buy a girl a drink, because if he asked enough girls, eventually, he might get lucky!

We danced for hours to Joan Jett, Men at Work, Adam and the Ants and Kim Wilde and I felt so happy because I loved Australia and I had just discovered B52 shots which I had been knocking back! Everybody seemed to be laughing and there was the exciting feeling of perhaps meeting someone new.

The disco lights were flashing blue and pink, the music was deafening and we were all choking on the smoke machine. It was bloody brilliant.

But, not one boy came near us

Brian was now sitting down so we went and joined him in the booth.

I had some questions,

‘’Brian, what’s going on?’’

‘’Why are all the boys standing together and ignoring the girls?’’

“Why hasn’t anyone asked us to dance?”

‘’How are people supposed to meet from opposite sides of the room?’’

‘’Is this a gay bar?’’

To be honest, I was a vain little mare.

It was all about me and I was just in a bad mood because nobody had chatted me up all night.

Brian looked at me in complete shock for a few seconds and then burst out laughing,

“Jeeze, who are you and what planet are you from?’’ he choked, ’Nobody cracks on ‘til the end of the night. Give the boys a chance, they’re drinking their grog.”

From what I could see, most of the boys at the bar were absolutely hammered and one dickhead near us had ripped off his shirt and was puffing out a skinny chest. They were all showing off, trying to out-drink one another and shouting at the top of their voices.

At about 1am the DJ started playing ‘Shut Up ya Face’ and that was our cue to leave and go next door for pizza, but before we could stand up, four young guys came over to our table.

‘’G’day ladies, how ya going?” asked the obvious ringleader with a horrible orange mullet.  He sat down next to me, grinning like a maniac and then turned to face Brian.

“Listen mate, I don’t wanna cut your grass or nothin’, so which Sheila’s yours?” he asked.

Brian shook his head, ‘’No worries there mate. They’ve just got here from England and I’m showing them the sites.”

The boy’s eyes lit up and he tried to put his arm around me,

‘’Me and the lads have been watching youse two all night. Right pair or ragers eh?’’

His mates fell about laughing

‘’Robo mate, you’re a fu##ing legend’’ shouted the boy with no shirt.

I doubted that

Robbo stank of beer and sausage rolls and his hair was dripping wet.

‘’Oh my God, stop sweating on me’’ I screamed, moving sideways along the seat.

‘’Hey, don’t spit the dummy” he grinned ‘’ I just wanna get to know ya.’’

“Well don’t come any nearer,’’ I said putting my arm out, ‘’you’re in my personal space.’’

‘’Oh she’s a pommie, ’’ shouted a tubby boy who was standing next to Robbo and seemed to be dressed as a bank manager.

“She’s well up for it. Give her the hard word.’’

Cheeky Bas##rd. I understood that alright!

Glaring up at him, I said,

“For a start off, we are Welsh not English and what are you wearing? I can’t believe the bouncers let you in here. You should be banned for life for having such hideous fashion sense. And by the way, I’m not up for anything, thank you very much.’’

But Robbo wasn’t giving in just yet and he suddenly lurched towards me, and said, ‘’Doyawannarootorwhat?

All I heard was root and what

“What is a rooterwhat?’’ I asked

Robbo threw himself back in the seat and grabbed his crotch and it seemed like everyone in the club was laughing at me.

I was over it.

“Brian, what is he talking about?  What does it mean?’’

The poor boy was starting to look uncomfortable.

“Well, a root means a sh#g, you know, getting laid.’’ he said

It was too much for me and I had to stand up.

Looking down at Robo, I couldn’t believe it.

“So, let me get this straight. You came over here to ask me to have sex with you.”.

“Bloody Oath I did. Nothing wrong with a bit of hide the sausage.” he laughed

“You must be bloody joking. You haven’t had the guts to buy me a drink or ask me to dance but you expect me to go home with you?’’

“Well not home exactly, me oldies wouldn’t like it’’, he said, ‘’but the car is parked in the multi-story on Barrack Street. We could go for it in there’’

‘’Wow, how romantic’’ I said

“Oh, so my lady wants romance, does she?’ A little dancing and some champers? said the bank manager. ‘’Didn’t realize we had Princess Diana in here tonight boys.”

“You’ve got that right,’’ I told him, ‘’I am a lady so you can kiss my arse.’’

“That’s what I’m talking about” shouted Robbo and I noticed he had vomit down the front of his shirt.

‘’We don’t want a formal introduction, just a root.’’

‘’Well I’m not interested’’ I told him, grabbing my handbag off the table.

We walked through the club and as we reached the exit, Robo’s bank manager shouted,

“Hey, Mary Poppins, no hard feelings eh! How do ya fancy a 68 and a half?

I couldn’t resist it

“What’s that?’’ I shouted back

‘’You give me a bl#w job and I’ll owe you one.”

I had to laugh.

That was the night I found out that most Australian blokes are very funny but if you want flowers, compliments and courtship, you’ll be waiting a while!

After all, there is no such thing as perfection.