Magni leans over his lab table a lot, always working on a concoction or new experiment in the late hours of the night. Altare doesn’t mind, he’s a night owl himself. He goes on his late-night walks and always returns to Magni still in the lab, brow furrowed as he examines his test results or the scratch of his own handwritten notes.
Altare may not be the model citizen for getting the most rest, but he can sense the tension in Magni’s shoulders; he’s been at it for hours and was due for a break. But telling him to rest wasn’t so easy; Magni was more likely to brush him off and say “in a minute” than to come willingly out of the lab. So Altare would have to lure him out.
However, as Altare walked over to where Magni sat in his lab, he caught a glimpse of a cluster of moles scattered across Magni’s neck, like constellations. Altare swallowed, seeing how Magni’s hair brushed the back of his neck softly as he leaned his head into his hand. The temptation to lean down and brush his lips along the gentle line of his neck was strong.
So he did. The way Magni didn’t startle told Altare that Magni had known he was home and heard his approach, but MAgni still yelped softly and blushed a warm shade of pink as Altare let out a breathy chuckle. Their eyes met, Altare not bothering to hide his intention.
“Come to bed?”
“… Okay..”
The lack of resistance made Altare chuckle as he pulled Magni from the lab. He knew just what would loosen the alchemist’s shoulders…
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The world rained ash like snow. Gone were the tranquil blue skies; in its place were angry reds and ominous grays. Every breath of air invited poison to the lungs. Here, the remnants of humanity desperately clung to life.
"Hey, Dz?"🎇turned to🧤, whose hair was now caked in soot and debris; a far cry from the once well-kept head of platinum blond hair. Now, it resembled straw. "Can we dance?"
🧤stopped to shoot him a look with hardened eyes that betrayed nothing.
Perhaps🧤thought he'd gone insane, but who wasn't partway there nowadays when every street was lined with the skeletons of civilization; where silence punctuated their every step.
"Sure,"🧤muttered, voice raspy as he took🎇's hand and placed his free hand on the shorter's waist.
There's nothing graceful about their dance. No music to coordinate them as they kicked up plumes of gray with every jerky, out-of-sync step. But somehow, it was perfect. Here, 🎇could let his worries, pain, and sorrow go. Right here, he was alive as the world goes up in flames.
Seit einiger Zeit schon versuchen wir, eine tolerante und bunte Gesellschaft aufzubauen, und viele Vereine oder auch die Politik kämpfen aktiv dafür. Die Themen dabei sind vielfältig, aber in erster Linie denkt man meistens zuerst an eine Multikulti-Gesellschaft und die damit leider oft verbundenen Probleme wie Fremden- und Religionsfeindlichkeit. Doch diese Themengebiete alleine reichen bei…
Violence in pursuit of so-called science. 🎇 had been expected not to say anything beyond what was expected of him but was he ever one to sit still?
And thus, this was how it was going to end. The cold embrace of murky waters was familiar. Come to think of it, this was the second time he saw his life flash before his eyes. He'd make a joke about water being his mortal enemy and laugh about it if there were anyone to listen but briny water was quick to fill his lungs.
People have a weird and sick way of romanticizing death. If he were honest, it felt like shit. The grasp of death was cold and unforgiving. This time, there were no gleaming golden eyes staring him down and no webbed hands pulling him up onto an observation deck. Everything hurt. His ears were ringing. His back was burning from shards of glass and shrapnel embedded into flesh. He could taste blood in the water. His blood.
With lady luck usually not on his side, he'd fully expected to die in that van or suffer much heavier injuries. Well, it was either that stupid rental van or this. And he'd much prefer the biting cold of the currents than being roasted alive in a van that was decidedly not his dream ride.
Speaking of dream rides, did🧤manage to get away? He hoped he did. 🧤deserved much more than a tank being his whole world. 🧤would go on an adventure, see things he'd never seen before, experience life beyond the confines of a cold, uncaring facility and maybe meet other people. The mercreature had always seemed to be rather sociable underneath his prickly exterior. 🎇should be happy for him and yet…
The oxygen deprivation began to take his thoughts away.
He'd soon be seaweed, nothing more than flesh and bones ready to decay in the currents.
'I really want to go on that adventure with you too.'
The water suddenly began to stir around him. Lips pressed against his own and a tongue forced his mouth open.
The rush of oxygen in his lungs had him struggling to open his eyes. What greeted him was a face he'd come to call beautiful. The breath caught in his throat, just like it always did.🧤never failed to take his breath away.
🎇wondered distantly if🧤would scoff if he cracked the joke right now.
Lean arms wrapped around him to pull him to the surface. 🧤's tail, useless on land, was made to slice through water like nothing while the tentacles worked to propel them up.
-
"How dare you make my choices for me?! Fuck your stupid adventure, pretty boy. I don't care about that crap. Hey! Are you listening to me?" The back of his skull was pounding as🧤launched into his long-winded tirade.
"I am." 🎇winced when his voice came out scratchy. "I was just thinking about how much I hate the sand and how pretty you are." Oh, hate the sand he did. What was worse than dry sand? Damp sand. It was getting in places where it shouldn't even be. Eugh.
"Nice try, brother. That ain't working on me this time."
Perhaps it was the incredulousness of the situation that had 🎇suddenly bursting into laughter. Or maybe it was how🧤had his arms akimbo in a way that made him look like a customer ready to out-sass a tired employee at W4lm4rt.
Laughter was ever a contagious disease. The noise that left 🧤 was breathy and a little strangled but it enraptured 🎇 all the same. It was as if his soft chuckles lifted a veil from his eyes.
Funny how laughter can do that. They were truly the honest rumblings of the soul.
"🧤." "Huh?" "My name, idiot." "Oh."
The day dawned crisp and clear.
"Hey, 🧤?" "What?" "Can I kiss you? Like for real this time? No more drowny kisses?" "No."
"Huh?! I think I more than deserve it, don't you think?" "Fuck you."
"That can be arranged. All you had to do was ask, man. You know–" 🧤catches his lips in a bruising kiss. Frankly, it was more teeth than an actual locking of lips but 🎇was more than happy with that distinction for now. He'd like to not be reminded of his underwater experiences AND it was more than enough to shut him up. For now anyway.
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🎇knew if he were to get out of bed to look in the mirror, he'd be greeted by dark circles framing dull green eyes, that mere days ago, had been shining with wonder and ready to greet each new day.
Not that he wanted to look. He knew what was waiting. Guilt. Denial. Defeat. Wilful ignorance was still ignorance all the same. He could acknowledge that much at least.
Hearing 🧤's voice for the first time was a pleasant surprise.
It was musical and much deeper and fuller in range than he expected. The incredulity was silly to think about in hindsight. 🧤had a slender frame, that much was true, but he was still far larger than him.
His tail and tentacles more than made up for what he lacked in upper body strength. The interaction made his heart flutter all the same even if🧤only spoke up to shut down his ridiculous theories.
The butterflies in his stomach quickly turned stone cold.
🎇was far from blind to the way the research facility saw their prized subject, a clearly intelligent being that could very well surpass them in intellect. It wasn't hard to gauge how sharp-witted his fish friend was just based on their shared conversations, which made his orders all the harder to fulfill.
🧤 was an ethereal sort of beautiful, would've and should've been untouchable if he weren't shackled in a tide pool far too small to ever be enough for him. Would🧤like to see the world beyond his tank?
Would🧤still have all the hard edges that threatened to slit the throats of anyone who came close if he were free? Oh, yes. Most definitely. The thought made a chuckle bubble in his throat. All that snark paired with smug grins that had far too much teeth was part of his charm.
Come to think of it, 🧤 never told him his name. Also, when did 'it' become 'he'?
Before he could even comprehend his own reckless actions, he was pulling into the facility in a rental van and sneaking past the security checkpoint at 3am.
He felt the same pull again, amplified every time he knew🧤was close. It felt like a primeval desire built into him to actively seek out whoever was on the other end.
He climbed the familiar steps up to the observation deck and waited with baited breath for🧤to surface.
🧤's wrath was palpable despite the distance he put between them. The reaction was not a surprise to either of them. 🎇had been gone for a good week trying to gather himself with nary a word to his friend.
"Thought you had enough of me. Studied all you had to, didn't you?"
🎇flinched in response despite it being the furthest thing from the truth but🧤seemed to take his minute reaction as fact. "I see how it is. You humans always pull this shit with me. Stand something to gain by earning the monster's trust, huh?
"No! I…" "Shut the fuck up. I don't want to see you." "You don't have to see me then! But please hear me out."
🧤turned away and began to sink back into the waters. "Would you like to go on an adventure?" The question gave the mer pause.
The space fell silent, only interrupted by the soft whirring of the control panels.
🎇doesn't remember how he got here. He sped down the hallway with reckless abandon with 🧤in his arms and clinging on for dear life with night guards hot on their tail and calling for backup.
Adrenaline was what kept him going. Or maybe all those push-ups actually worked out in his favor for picking up a nearly 300-pound octopi-man-fish thing. On second thought, maybe the smuggling part should've been better planned.
"Hope you're ready to see the sunrise again, man. We should be able to get to sea by dawn."
"Why are you even doing this?"
"Would you believe me if I said I'm doing this because I want to know your name?"
"Ah, so you ARE a knucklehead."
"Hey!"
The creature, beautiful and terrible to behold. And yet he cannot help but want to know its name. 🎇was more than aware his irrational impulses were unprofessional and yet he had gone and shut down every alarm bell in his head. Something about the merperson made his breath stutter both with curiosity and a personal need to believe in magic.
🎇had a field day explaining to his colleagues on why he had returned from the isolation tank soaked from head to toe and weak on his knees that day. The silver lining? Well, at least the flush on his face could be chalked up to a fever settling in from walking around in notably not-dry clothes. He was sent straight home where vestiges of sleep tugged him into a fitful slumber of gold eyes and soft lips.
He wanted so badly to share what had happened in that room but he'd seen the way most reacted to the mere reminder of the 'monster' they kept under lock and key. Greed and fear. He wondered if that's why it always looked so angry. Or was it sad?
That was when it dawned on him that he wouldn't mind if it mauled him. He'd accept him with open arms, foolish as it sounded. He was more concerned for its well-being.
It always appeared so miserable. There was so much he wanted to know. Could it speak? Did it have a hobby? What would make it smile?
It was that train of thought that brought him right back to the same observation deck the next day.
This time though, it was adamant on ignoring him after having had writhing tentacles toss him right back onto the deck when he tried entering his tank again against his better judgment. It was clearly not amused as it swam in agitated circles to make sure🎇doesn't try again.
So territorial. He pouted. It was progress nevertheless. It didn't seem to want to harm him anymore. Never being one to give up, he sat down on the edge, right where he stood the day before, and began to spin ridiculous tales about his life, hoping it would stop to listen.
Maybe one day it would surface to tell him how stupid he sounds.
If you were to ask what 🎇was up to, he'd come up with a plethora of excuses. "I have to see the specimen to check for potential injuries." or "The surveillance cameras were triggered. It could be in danger." (He knows full well the only danger it posed was to itself. The creature only ever stared ominously into the night vision cameras).
Justification after justification on why he was going to see the mercreature that was adamant on ignoring him for weeks on end. In truth, it all came down to the golden gaze that bore into him and pulled him in on instinct.
Perhaps all those legends about sirens luring sailors into the sea and drowning them were true. But that's a problem for tomorrow's 🎇 to handle.
He was going to pretend what he was planning to do was to earn the creature's trust after several weeks of observation. One might even say what he was planning to do was incredibly foolish. That barely deterred him from trying. The space was just as dark as he remembered. Soft lights rippled through the water as the creature swam its rounds in leisure as he approached the metal stairs leading to the observation platform. That was when the emergency lights kicked in, bathing the tank an ominous red.
It paused, finally taking notice of 🎇's presence and broke to surface not a moment later.
"Umm… Hi," he greeted with all the calm he could muster as he kicked aside the tranquilizer gxn by his feet before removing his shoes. Inhuman eyes followed his every move with caution and curiosity. With how close the creature was now, he could clearly see the speckles of light against its skin that form intricate patterns, barely washed out by the red lighting, reminding him of the stars he saw last summer during his trip to the countryside.
'Beautiful.' The sight had him staring in wonderment. Beautiful was definitely not a word to use on someone who could very well kill him with a precise swipe of his tail or a deliberate drag of his ankle that pulled him into the water the moment he dipped his foot into the water.
Oddly specific? That was exactly what happened.
He got himself pulled under murky waters. It happened so quickly. Part of him cursed himself for forgetting that it moved far quicker than it looked. It wasn't as if this behavior was unexpected.
He would've brought a snorkel if he possessed any foresight. A little too late for regrets, unfortunately. He saw his life flash before his eyes. The experience should terrify him and yet all he felt was peace washing over him as the snarling fishman hovered over him with webbed fingers around his neck. It's quite the mesmerizing sight. Was that a mole by his lips? Fish people get moles? Cute. The thought brought a soft grin to his lips as he reached out to brush his hand against its cheek.
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but in his final moments of consciousness, he saw how sad it looked, barred teeth and all.
