if they made 6 sharknado movies, u can do anything

What in the fuckery?

On his face, on his clothes, tainting into his usually pristine gloves in dark, glistening patches that spoke of... certainly something you didn’t want to imagine. The metallic tang of it hung faintly in the air between you, unmistakable and jarring.

Your heart lurched. “Whawhawhawha— what happened to you, Jade!?”

His smile remained serene, unruffled, as though you had merely inquired about the weather. “I’ve finished ridding us of the nuisances,” he said, his voice smooth as polished stone. “Would you like to depart now, or would you prefer I quickly run you a bath?”

The casualness of his tone sent a chill down your spine. "What in the world are you saying!?" You scrambled backward on the bed, the sheets tangling around your legs. “You’re drenched in blood, Jade! Did someone hurt you? Are you—”

A chuckle.

He tilted his head, and something glinted in his eyes, something ancient and possessive that made your breath catch. “My dearest lady, could it be that you have forgotten? My, I am truly disheartened.”

“Forgotten what?”

His smile widened, just a fraction. “Why, our little vow, of course.”

“Jade, I— I don’t know what you mean.” Your voice trembled despite your efforts to steady it. “And I’m really scared right now. I—if you could just explain to me—”

But he was already moving, closing the distance between you with fluid, inhuman grace. Before you could recoil, his arms slid beneath you— one hooked behind your knees, the other supporting your back— and he lifted you as though you weighed nothing at all. You writhed instinctively, your palms pressing against his bloodied chest, but his grip was unyielding.

“Now, now.” His voice was a velvet murmur as he carried you toward the adjoining bathroom. “Fret not, little duchess. I don’t mind refreshing your memories.”

—          Year XXXX, Yvon Duke’s Manor —

Your eighth birthday. You were absolutely over the moon, practically vibrating with excitement as your maid finished pinning the last ribbon into your hair. She tapped your shoulder gently, signalling she was done, and you immediately leaped from your seat, spinning in a flurry of silk and childish glee. A quick, breathless thank-you to the maid, and you were off— racing down the corridor, your small feet pattering against the polished floors.

“Papa, Papa!”

Your father’s laughter echoed through the hall before you even rounded the corner. He was already waiting, arms open, his warm eyes crinkling at the edges as you barrelled into him.

“Hoho, there’s my sweet child!” He hoisted you up with ease, spinning you in a wide arc that (nearly) sent your ribbons flying. “You look absolutely insuperable today!” His voice was rich with affection, the kind of deep, rumbling warmth that made you feel like the most cherished child in the world.

You giggled, clutching his shoulders as the world blurred around you. “Papa, put me down!”

“Never!” He pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “My dear, I have prepared a very special gift for you today.”

You gasped, bouncing in his arms. “Present, present!!” You clapped your hands together, barely containing your glee. “I’m so excited for the banquet!”

Your father chuckled, setting you down gently. He knelt to your level, his hands resting on your small shoulders. “It’s not just the banquet, my little star. I have something else. Something I think you will love very much.”

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “What is it, Papa?”

He gave you a soft, knowing smile that sent a flutter of anticipation through your chest. “I have arranged for a new companion. Someone to serve you, to protect you, to be by your side as you grow.”

You blinked. “A friend?”

“Something like that.” He rose, extending his hand to you. “Come. I’ll introduce you.”

Making your way to the guest room, your father promptly pushed open the door— and you were met with what you thought was the prettiest boy you had ever seen.

Soft, teal hair cascaded like sea-foam, a single streak of black cutting through the aquamarine like a shadow in shallow water. His face was chiseled, for lack of a better word— too sharp, too refined for a child his age— with high cheekbones and a jaw that promised handsomeness in years to come. His posture was immaculate, spine straight as a blade, hands clasped behind his back with the practiced poise of someone who had been trained to stand still for hours.

But it was his eyes that stole your breath.

Sharp. Piercing. Bright, luminous, almost unsettling in their intensity. They watched you with an awareness that seemed far too old for a boy of perhaps ten or eleven, cataloguing every detail of your appearance as though you were a text to be memorized.

Sevens above. You couldn’t wait to be friends with him.

You bounded forward, heedless of propriety, stopping just before him with a grin that split your round cheeks. “Hello! I’m Y/N! What’s your name?”

He blinked, giving you a soft, practiced smile in contrast to your enthusiasm.

“Jade,” he said, his voice smooth as polished stone, carrying a cadence that was distinctly other— a faint, melodic lilt that spoke of distant waters and deep currents. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, my lady.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You talk funny.”

Your father cleared his throat behind you, a gentle warning.

But Jade only laughed— a soft, husky sound that seemed to surprise even him. “Do I? I apologize. I am still learning your surface tongue.”

Surface tongue. The words were strange, exotic, like something from a storybook. You leaned closer, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “Jade, where are you from, exactly?”

Jade’s smile flickered— just for a moment, barely perceptible, but then he smiled again. “I suppose if you must know, my lady, I am from the Coral Sea.”

“THE CORAL SEA?!” You perked up further, switching your gaze between your father and him repeatedly. “Papa, did you hear that?! He’s a MERMAID!! That’s so COOOL!!”

“A merman, my dear. And he is to be your page. He will serve you and protect you as you grow.”

You turned back to Jade, your heart practically bursting with excitement. “Do you have a tail? That means you can breathe underwater, right? Can you talk to fish? Can you—"

 “Y/N,” your father interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. “Perhaps we should let Jade settle in before you interrogate him.” He suggested with a dry laugh, gently leading you out the room.

—          8:00 PM —

It was about time for the banquet.

You were practically vibrating in your dress. Reaching the hall, you paused at the top of the staircase, your small hand gripping the banister. Below, the great hall sprawled before you— a sea of glittering chandeliers, white tablecloths, and faces turned upward to watch your descent.

Your birthdays were always this grandiose.

Your father stood at the bottom, arm extended, his smile bright as the sun. “Shall we, my little star?”

You nodded, your heart thrumming.

The banquet flew by like a gust of wind. You had so much fun. You got to make so many friends, and holy crap— the gifts you received were absolutely inSANE! You barely knew these people! Heck— someone gave you a horse. A fucking horse. To an eight-year-old. Splendid!

Right now, you were strolling around the garden. It was your sanctuary— a labyrinth of hedges and roses that bordered the cliff’s edge, where the sea sang its endless, melancholy song. Moonlight silvered the leaves, turning the world into a dreamscape of shadows and shimmer.

That’s why, when you heard a noise— a soft, crumpling noise, like fabric shifting against stone— you felt slightly uneased.

“Hello?” you called out, your voice small in the vast darkness.

Of course, no answer.

Curiosity prickled at you. You stepped off the path, your slippers whispering against the damp grass, and followed the sound to a secluded alcove tucked between two overgrown hedges.

And there, half-hidden in shadow, was Jade.

Your breath caught.

He was sitting on the cold stone bench. His posture was still somewhat straight, but his head slumped slightly forward. His fine clothes were rumpled. His hair which you last saw so neatly arranged now hung in disheveled strands.

And his face—

“Jade!” You rushed forward, your heart lurching into your throat. “Sevens, what happened to you?!”

He looked up at the sound of your voice, and you saw it— the mottled bruise blooming across his cheekbone, the split in his lip..

But he smiled.

Of course he smiled.

“My lady.” His voice was rough, strained, but he forced it into that familiar, silken cadence. “Should you not be inside? The night air is treacherous for young lungs.”

“Don’t change the subject!” You dropped to your knees before him, heedless of the grass staining your dress. Your hands reached for his face, but he caught them before you could touch him.

“Now, now,” he murmured, his fingers cool and steady around your wrists. “there is no need for such alarm. I merely tripped.

“Huh— tripped..? Don’t make me laugh! You look like— that looks like—” You paused, jarringly pointing at his form. “— like someone hurt you!”

His smile widened, just a fraction, and something flickered in his eyes— warmth, perhaps, or amusement. “And what would you do if someone had, my lady? Would you march to their door and demand satisfaction?”

“Yes!”

He laughed— a soft, husky sound that dissolved into a wince as it pulled at his split lip. “Your devotion is touching for someone you had just met today. Truly. Not to mention, they are nothing but a diplomatic gift sent as a page.” He released your wrists, leaning back against the stone bench. “But I assure you, I am quite well. A mere misstep in the dark. Nothing more.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’d never lie to you, my lady.”

You stared at him, your heart twisting. He was lying. You knew he was lying. But his eyes were calm, his smile serene, and he looked at you with such gentle amusement that you found yourself doubting your own instincts.

“At the very least, let me get you something,” you said, rising. “A cloth. O—or maybe some water. I’ll fetch the physician—"

He caught your hand once more.

“Don’t.”

A tick of absolute silence passed by, the only noise interweaving between the two of you being the soft rustle of the breeze.

“Hmph— fine then! Suit yourself. I’ll just stay here until you choose to spit out the truth.”

Plop.

You sat down beside him on the bench, close enough that your shoulders nearly touched.

“Who did this to you?” you whispered.

He was quiet for a long moment.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters!”

Another tick of silence.

“…I will tell you this much,” he said at last, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Your garden is not the only place in this estate where monsters lurk.”

The words sent a chill down your spine. “Monsters?”

He tilted his head, studying your face. “Do you believe in monsters, my lady?”

"Eh?—" You faltered. “I don’t know. Do you?”

His smile widened— just a fraction, just enough to show a hint of teeth. “I believe I am looking at the only one who has ever shown me a sliver of concern here.”

You didn’t know how to answer that. You were only eight, and the weight of his words was strange and confusing. But something in his eyes made your chest ache.

“Oh, well, uh—" You bit your lip. “Can I help you? With the... the monsters?”

He laughed again, softer this time. “You are very brave.”

“I know,” you said seriously. “Papa says I’m going to be a great duchess someday. Or something even more. But nah. I wanna be a duchess. That means I have to protect people.”

Jade was quiet for a long moment.

Then slowly, he reached out and gently touched your hand— just a fleeting brush of his fingers against your knuckles, featherlight and tentative, as though he were testing whether you were real.

“You will be a magnificent duchess, my lady,” A pause.

"I have no doubt of that."

You beamed, your small chest swelling with pride. “Ohoho, well then! I’ll protect you too, Jade! From the monsters!”

His expression flickered— something raw and unguarded surfacing in the depths of his eyes before the carefully constructed mask slid back into place, smooth as glass.

“You make dangerous promises, my lady.”

“I don’t care.”

He didn’t say anything after that. He only sat there, his hand resting lightly beside yours on the cold stone bench, his bruises hidden in the dappled shadows of the moonlight.

And when you finally rose to return inside, brushing the grass from your dress with careless hands, you didn’t notice the way his eyes followed you— the way something in them had irrevocably shifted, quiet and deep as the turning of an unseen tide.

You were eight, and you had made another friend.

He was ten, and you had just become the centre of his world.

—          10:00 PM, Jade’s POV —

The banquet had wound down, and Jade had been dispatched to the kitchens with a tray of empty glasses. Menial work. Beneath his station, certainly, but he knew that protest was futile.

He was in no position to protest.

He had just set the tray on the counter when the door swung shut behind him with a heavy thud. He turned to face the source.

Three of them. The head footman, a groom from the stables, and the cook’s nephew. All older. All larger. All wearing the same cruelly amused expressions he had grown accustomed to.

“Well, well,” the footman drawled, cracking his knuckles. “Look what we have here. The little sea-creature, slumming it with the servants.”

Jade straightened his spine, his expression smoothing into careful neutrality. “Is there something I can assist you with?”

“Assist us?” The groom laughed. “You can assist us by crawling back to whatever hole you came from.”

The cook’s nephew stepped forward, his eyes glinting. “The Coral Sea. That’s where you’re from, isn’t it? The place that doesn’t know how to keep their pets in line.”

Jade's smile remained fixed, polite, impenetrable. “I assure you, I am quite well-trained.”

He saw the fist coming, but he didn't dodge.

He had learned that dodging only prolonged any ordeal.

The first blow caught him across the cheekbone, snapping his head to the side. He tasted blood— copper and salt, familiar as breath.

“A diplomatic gift, they called you,” the footman sneered, landing another punch to his ribs. “You're nothing but a monster dressed in fancy clothes.”

‘What differentiates us then, I wonder?’ The thought surfaced like a bubble through deep water, but he didn’t utter a word of the like. ‘You strike from cruelty. I merely endure. Is that not the truer measure of a monster?’

‘Perhaps, we are both creatures wearing masks,’ he thought. ‘The only difference is that mine is prettier.’

He smiled and chuckled dryly at his own thought.

“The hell are you laughing ‘bout, leech?”

Another blow. Then another.

Jade stumbled back, his hip catching the edge of the counter. The pain registered distantly, a dull throb beneath the surface of his consciousness. He had perfected the art of detachment— of retreating to the cool, quiet depths of his mind where the blows could not reach him.

Count the strikes, he instructed himself. One. Two. Three. Observe the pattern. The footman favors his right. The groom aims low. The nephew tires quickly.

He catalogued their weaknesses. Their tells. Their faces.

But he didn’t resort to offense whatsoever.

He had been instructed, in no uncertain terms, that any act of aggression would be interpreted as a breach of the alliance. If he harmed a surface-dweller, he would be sent back to the Coral Sea in disgrace— or worse, executed as a threat to the fragile peace.

So he endured.

He endured until the footman grew bored. He endured until the groom grew tired. He endured until the cook’s nephew grew tired of his own cruelty.

He endured until they left, laughing, the door swinging shut behind them.

And then he stood in the silence, one hand pressed to his bleeding lip, and allowed himself a single moment of stillness.

This is the cost of survival, he reminded himself.

He needed to find somewhere to tend to his wounds. He pushed off the counter, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. The garden should suffice. He internally mapped the entire manor upon arrival, so he was rather well-acquainted with the place despite having been here for… less than a day.

He delved into the gardens and walked around until he found a suitable, secluded area.

Situating himself onto the bench by the alcove, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Treating his injuries, he abruptly froze when he heard footsteps. Light. Hesitant. And of course, drawing closer.

He recognized the rhythm immediately. Small feet, uncertain steps, the particular cadence of someone who tiny and naïve.

The duke’s daughter.

He pressed himself deeper into the shadows, silently willing himself to become invisible.

It seems my misfortune is simply ardent.

The hedges parted, and she stepped through the moonlight.

She was still wearing her party dress, pale silk that glowed like pearl against the darkness.

“Jade!” She rushed forward. “Sevens, what happened to you?!”

Jade mustered up the strength to look at her directly.

And plastered that smile.

That same, stupid smile.

“My lady. Should you not be inside? The night air is treacherous for young lungs.”

“Don’t change the subject!” She dropped to her knees before him, seemingly heedless of the dirt staining her luscious dress. Her hands reached for his face, but he caught them before she could touch him.

‘Revolting’, or so he’d like to believe.

“Now, now,” he murmured, his fingers cool and steady around your wrists. “there is no need for such alarm. I merely tripped.

“Huh— tripped..? Don’t make me laugh! You look like— that looks like—” The girl paused before jarringly pointing at Jade’s form. “— like someone hurt you!”

“And what would you do if someone had, my lady? Would you march to their door and demand satisfaction?”

“Yes!”

‘How amusing.’ Jade laughed.

“Your devotion is touching for someone you had just met today. Truly. Not to mention the fact that they are nothing but a diplomatic gift sent as a page. But I assure you, I am quite well. A mere misstep in the dark. Nothing more.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’d never lie to you, my lady.”

“At the very least, let me get you something,” The girl said, rising. “A cloth. O—or maybe some water. I’ll fetch the physician—"

Jade took hold of her hand. Getting an adult involved in this would only complicate the whole ordeal.

“Don’t.”

A tick of absolute silence passed by, the only noise interweaving between the girl and Jade was the soft rustle of the breeze.

“Hmph— fine then! Suit yourself. I’ll just stay here until you choose to spit out the truth.”

Plop.

She sat down beside him on the bench, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.

“Who did this to you?”

‘…’

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters!”

“…I will tell you this much: your garden is not the only place in this estate where monsters lurk.”

She looked at him, slightly shaken up. “Monsters?”

He tilted his head, studying her face. “Do you believe in monsters, my lady?”

"Eh?— I don’t know. Do you?”

“I believe I am looking at the only one who has ever shown me a sliver of concern here.”

Oh, sevens. What was he saying??

“Oh, well, uh—" You bit your lip. “Then can I help you? With the... the monsters?”

‘How cute.’

“You are very brave.”

“I know,” she said. “Papa says I’m going to be a great duchess someday. Or something even more. But nah. I wanna be a duchess. That means I have to protect people.”

Jade was quiet for a long moment.

“You will be a magnificent duchess, my lady,” A pause.

"I have no doubt of that."

The girl beamed, her small chest swelling with pride. “Ohoho, well then! I’ll protect you too, Jade! From the monsters!”

‘My, what’s this? She wishes to protect me? Fufufu… Perhaps she isn’t so bad after all.’

And when the young lady finally rose to return inside, brushing the grass from her dress with careless hands, he allowed himself to watch her go.

‘Such a fragile little thing,’ he mused, his fingers still tingling where they had touched her. ‘And yet, she walks through the darkness without fear.’

‘Clearly, she doesn't know that the real monsters are already watching.’

‘Clearly, she doesn't know that I am one of them.’

But she will learn.

In time, she will learn everything.

can you guys tell i got sleepy as shit like near the end