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monstersandmaw · 4 years

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Mute male siren x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a tier reward for a lovely patron who wanted a siren who's never been able to use his voice, and is thus treated poorly by his own kind for being 'useless' in their eyes. Hope you enjoy!

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It was the eerie melody - almost more of a feeling in your chest than a sound in your ears - that drew you out onto the jetty from the beach where you’d been walking barefoot, flip-flops dangling from the fingers of one hand. You knew about the shoal of sirens who lived and hunted off the reef that guarded Starfall Bay, but you’d never seen them; they didn’t come too close to shore very often after all, preferring the vast open waters of the channel beyond.

Something about their song that afternoon seemed harsh, cruel, despite the plainchant beauty of it and a tear spilled from your eye before you’d even noticed it forming. The song faded as the sirens clearly dived back down again, and it left you strangely hollow. Humans were far from immune to the hunting calls and songs of those hauntingly strange creatures, and in the silent wake of their absence, you found yourself humming softly. The tune was a cheerful one as you tried to rally your spirits a little.

Squinting against the reflections of the strong summer sun against the rippling water, you clambered down to sit on the edge of the dock so that you could dangle your feet in the cool, clear water. A little crab scuttled around in the rocks beneath the jetty’s pilings, minding its own business, and you watched him for a bit. As the hairs on your arms prickled suddenly, you looked up and found that you were not alone.

Lying half slumped over a nearby rock which had been smoothed by the constant caress of the sea was a creature that was unmistakably a siren. You frowned, wondering what they could be doing just metres from the shoreline, and half-hauled out of the water. Something about their size and shape suggested that they were male, and you stared openly at the stunning colours of his tail and upper body. The thick muscle was covered with inky blue scales which were in turn dotted here and there with pearlescent scales. It brought to mind the clearest of night skies. The fan of his tail was feathered and spread out in the water behind him, while his upper body was smooth and free of scales. His skin there, however, was a dark blue-grey, and he had little fins of iridescent blue at his elbows. Plastered to his head and hanging halfway down his back, his hair was black as an oil slick, and he stared at you with huge, dolorous, sapphire eyes, blinking slowly.

“Hi,” you called, waving. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a siren up here before. Do you come here a lot?”

He waved back, somewhat hesitantly, and then gestured with a clawed hand at his throat, opening his mouth silently.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t speak…? Is that right?”

In answer, he gave a slow, sad nod, those bright, completely blue eyes turning down to stare at a spot of vivid green seaweed on the rock.

Something about his dejected posture made you keep talking, so you asked, “Do you know Sign?”

His head jerked back up at that and he tilted it curiously to one side in a silent question.

“You know, Sign Language?” you asked. “It’s what people who can’t hear or talk - or sometimes both - use to communicate. They use their hands.”

The siren froze but his lips parted in soft astonishment, eyes wide with wonder. He clearly hadn’t known that there were other ways of expressing himself, and your heart twisted at the anguish in his storm-blue eyes.

“My friend teaches it,” you went on, thinking on your feet. “I don’t know it myself, but if you’d like to learn, I’m sure I can ask him for you.”

He nodded emphatically but then went still again.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He made an empty kind of cough, mouth opening in an unvoiced hiss of frustration - more of a choke, really - flashing razor sharp teeth. Then he looked back at you and rubbed his thumb against his fingertips in the gesture that said ‘money’ almost the world over. He’d clearly been around landfolk often enough to have picked that one up.

Waggling your legs slowly through the water as you thought, you pouted and then said, “I can ask if he’d be willing to help out anyway… He’s the kind of guy that would do that.”

The hope that kindled in those sad eyes nearly tore your chest in two.

“I’ll ask him right now. Hang on.”

One quick text later and Jera was agreeing to come down to the beach in ten minutes to meet the siren. The bright green of the lizardfolk’s tail seemed to fascinate your siren, and the two of them seemed to hit it off almost immediately. You couldn’t help but notice the way he flinched away though whenever either of you made a sudden gesture or raised your voices - even to laugh - and as you and Jera made your way back up the beach after promising to return the next morning, your friend voiced his concerns.

“For a siren to have no voice…” he muttered darkly. “He must be the lowest of the low… he…”

“He seems to desperate to communicate,” you commented.

Jera shook his head and made a soft growl like an alligator. “It’s more than that. They use their voices for everything: hunting, mating, socialising… Without that, he… he has no role, no function.”

Your heart ached for him and you said, “You mind if I sit in on the lessons too? That way he’s got me to talk to as well…”

“I kind of assumed you’d want that anyway,” Jera grinned. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

Over the next three weeks, you and Jera spent hours down at the shore with the siren. He was literate as it turned out, and at the start of your first lesson he wrote his name with a talon in the hard, wet sand.

“Ilta,” Jera repeated, looking up at him. “That means ‘evening’,” he added, and both of you eyed the starry night sky of Ilta’s tail.

“Appropriate,” you grinned and Ilta blushed darker. His face was so sharply defined, his features so intense and clearly belonging to a predator, that to see him turn a little softer sent a thrill through you.

When he saw the way you smiled, he signed, “Thank you,” with a hesitant and bashful hand.

One morning perhaps a month into your daily lessons, as you hurried through the town, with your heart fluttering and your chest light with excitement to see him again, your phone buzzed and you paused at the harbour to read the text.

Jera: Hey, I can’t make it today - something’s come up and they need me to cover for another member of staff at school. Sorry! x

You replied that it was fine, and that you and Ilta could practise together anyway. However, he wasn’t there when you got to your usual meeting spot in the cove, and a stab of worry hit you like a hammer blow. Eventually, after thirty long minutes of pacing the sand and staring at the water, the surface of the sea rippled in a rush of bubbles, and you saw Ilta’s dark tail propelling him towards you.

“Hey,” you called, waving to him, but when you saw how dejected he looked, how broken down, you knelt in the water, heedless of the splashing waves, and held out your arms to him. “Come here,” you murmured.

He lay in your lap, his chest heaving silently, and he flung his lean, muscular arms around your waist. Stroking his wet hair seemed to calm him and after a moment you felt him shiver. “Ilta, what happened?” you asked softly, but he only tightened his grip on you and buried his face from sight. “Ok, it’s ok,” you crooned. “I’m here.”

After a while, you recalled something that Jera had said about song being so important to the everyday life of a siren, and you began to hum quietly. It was the tune you’d sung on the day you’d first met him; a variation of a folk melody that had always cheered you up when your grandmother had sung it to you. Within seconds, his body went limp beneath your touch and he let his hands fall to the sand on either side of your thighs. He listened to you sing it through twice before he took a deep, shuddering breath, and then pushed himself upright.

His strange gaze met yours and he reached a lethally-clawed hand for your throat, his fingertips just brushing against your skin as you continued to sing. The urge to stop was overwhelming, but something made you keep humming. He blinked slowly, dark lips slightly parted, and he continued to touch you. Eventually he withdrew his hand and signed an embarrassed, “Thank you… I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” you asked, using your hands instead of your voice now.

He shuffled slightly, splashing you as he got comfortable enough that he could sit half-coiled up on himself, balanced and able to use both hands to speak. “Sorry,” he grinned as you wiped the droplets off your face with a quiet laugh. “I… I had a bad day with my shoal.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes in frustration, though it wasn’t directed at you. “They use their voices on me,” he admitted.

“I don’t understand…” you said gently, movements of your hands small, quiet, faltering.

He turned his gaze back to meet yours and said, “You know how we hunt, right? We lure our prey in and then we use our voices to stun them. The sounds are…” he paused, frowning, searching for a way to explain it to you. “You know how some whales hunt by blasting sound at fish, making the air inside them expand or leaving them twitching and immobile…”

Horror slid into your stomach and you stared at him. “They did that to you?”

Ilta nodded. “They’ve always done it,” he went on. “But since I’ve been coming here and learning to talk another way, they’ve been doing it more and more. I… I can’t defend myself from that.”

“Can you leave?” you blurted aloud.

He shrugged. “Probably, but only if I stayed in and around the harbour. I learned to hunt in the shallows the way other merfolk do, with a spear of sharpened shell, but they think that’s hilarious of course.”

You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and he smiled broadly.

“What?”

“I love the noises you make,” he said. “Sometimes it’s just really cute and other times it’s beautiful. You have a lovely voice you know?”

You snorted softly, flushing. “You should have heard my grandmother. She was a real singer.”

“What’s a real singer?” he asked.

“You know, someone who sings for audiences… People pay to come and hear her…”

“Oh,” he said. “You sang for me though,” he added, his movements suddenly shrinking down to barely-there twitches of his hands. He’d picked it up much more quickly than you had, and you almost missed what he said.

“I couldn’t think of any other way to make you feel better,” you said shyly. “Did it work?”

“Yeah.” It was obvious that there was more to it though, but he didn’t go on immediately.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” you asked, trying to catch his eye but he was too busy looking at a patch of bare sand just beside you.

He shook his head.

“Then what is it…?”

He swallowed and looked up at you at last. “It’s something a mate might do,” he said with trembling fingers. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before. I thought they never would… you know… because of…” he finished by gesturing weakly at his voiceless throat.

Feeling brave, you reached for his face and traced your thumb across his cheekbone. “Ilta,” you said and he brought his hand up to your throat again before dropping it so that he could speak.

“I love your voice,” he said. “I wish I could sing for you. I wish… I…” His hands fell limply into the water beside his tail and he sighed. Slowly he brought the fingers of his right hand up to his own throat, claws digging into the muscle of his neck. For a horrible moment you thought he might hurt himself, but he relaxed a second later and opened his mouth. As he exhaled, gills flaring briefly in his neck, he let out a wet choking sound. It was just air in his throat, with no vocalisation at all. “I can’t,” he signed. “I’ve never been able to…”

You took his hands in yours briefly once he’d stopped talking and kissed his knuckles gently. “I know it’s… it’s been awful for you,” you said as you continued to kiss his cold skin, “But… I think that not having a voice has made you partly who you are. I’m not saying I wouldn’t love you if you could sing, but… I love who you are, Ilta. I love spending time with you and listening to your stories about what it’s like underwater… I would never have known any of that if I hadn’t met you.”

Ilta listened to your words and stared at you, stunned, barely breathing. Eventually he slid his hands free of yours and asked, “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you reassured him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked immediately, and when you nodded, he grinned again.

He knocked you back into the sand, pressing his whole body against yours, and it was as if his touch became his song. Silently, he sculpted his feelings for you against your skin, running his hands up your legs, his gills working as he became more and more aroused by the feel of you. He lifted your top and raked his teeth over your warm skin, making you gasp and cry out. The cove was mercifully pretty empty, with only a few people about, but they were a long way off.

His fluke flailed in the surf as he dragged himself up towards your shoulders, his body still pressed along yours. His long hair fell to one side and you looked up into his eyes. “You were going to kiss me,” you grinned.

Ilta’s answering smile was sharp and wicked but full of fondness, and he kissed you hard enough that you let out a low moan. One of his cold hands wrapped lightly around your throat as you continued to mewl and groan under his touch, and you knew that his touch was his answering song for you. Together, the two of you made a song of your own. When you said as much, he tipped his head back, almost in victory, and rutted up against your thigh, his scales suddenly slick where they touched you.

Ilta continued to touch you with reverence and wonder until you could no longer stop the sounds from falling from you. He took every single one of them and returned them with his body until the two of you were gasping together, sharing a breath as he spilled his release across your thighs, his forehead pressed to your collarbones and his fingers tangled in your hair.

With one final, soft, decadent moan, you kissed the top of his head and he signed something vague that might have been ‘thank you’ but you weren’t quite sure. To be fair though, you weren’t in a much better position to be articulating anything either.

—

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Never Fathomed All The Fathoms

Word count: 5021

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The queen’s advisor. Having to hunt food. HOW INSULTING WAS THAT?!

Aragon stretched her wings and flipped her tail as she noticed a school of pilot fish following behind her. She smiled, trying to use this to mask her agitation, and banked upward into a loop with a big acrobatic twirl of a finish. The feeling of the open sea pushing past her brings a delicious rush, and she could almost feel her agitation ebbing away with the current. She checked her followers: the school tries to recreate her moves, but the individual fish all just end up bumping into each other. Silly scavengers.

She pulled at the woven bag hanging around her long neck, trying not to lose focus. Tomorrow was the hatching of the queen’s first ever pup, the kingdom’s next heir. Everyone was expected to bring a contribution for him or her—even the queen’s most trusted advisor. So that’s why she, Aragon of the Seahorses, was out there in the wild, looking for tribute.

She dove down to the nearby craggy red reefs and wispy seaweed. She swam through the coral stacked high in columns, canting and curving to avoid scratching against their knobby bodies. As she zoomed past, gooseneck barnacles close, and small fish and seahorses dart away anxiously. The pilot fish seem uneasy in the more cramped quarters, so they abandon her, opting to follow a nearby sea turtle, which seems oblivious to its new entourage. She shrugged and then took a pick from an empty shell pile in front of a crevasse. Such a pile would normally indicate an octopus lair, but she actually sees a moray eel staring out at her. It clicks its jaw in disapproval at her presence.

A brave slipper lobster climbs among stinging polyps and stares at her. Aragon circles it and scoops it up in her webbed talons. It waved an antenna in confused protest as she muzzled its claws. Even though she completely outmatched it, the thing still tries to fight back, tries to hold onto its short life. She almost felt a stab of empathy.

For a moment, Aragon stood anchored to the rough rock the reef was growing from, then vaulted herself upwards. She beat her wings, up and up and up, enjoying the warming sensation as the pressure changes. After a quick underwater scan, she broke the ocean’s surface. The dry, cold wind is a shock against her scales. But still, she twisted around and floated belly-up, letting the sunlight beat down on her soft underscales.

Leviathans came in all shapes and sizes and hues, but she never really knew where her rich gold came from. From horn-to-tail, she was a metallic yellow color that glinted like gemstones and ore in the lamplight down in the city. Spirals of aquamarine and emerald green and azure twirled here and there, but not even they could outmatch the burnished pelt her body bore. Nobody in the entire Sea Kingdom had her scales—her mother had told her she should be proud of her uniqueness, and she was, but sometimes she wished to be the same shades as everyone else. As childish as that was for an advisor.

Sighing, Aragon rolled back over and stared up at the bright blue expanse of the sky. She raised her claws up, looking at how sunlight filtered through the thin webbing between them. Even they were gold, though paler than the rest of her.

Lashing her thick, powerful tail, Aragon was about to retreat back into the coolness of the water when she noticed some driftwood and metal floating in the timid waves, and then an island in the near distance.

It was small, with a few palm trees swaying lightly in the wind and some overgrown grass. There was also a strange-looking rock lying in the sand that smelled a bit...off.

Aragon paddled towards the island, noticing more shrapnel and pieces of a wreckage either floating on the surface or lying at the bottom of the shallows. Her talons soon touched sand and she heaved herself up the island’s slope and onto the bay, realizing that the rock wasn’t even a rock at all. It was a human!

It was smaller than she expected a human to be, especially when the pup stories painted them as such dangers to Leviathans- cutting off their claws to use for soup, shaving off their scales for fancy clothes, removing their tongues for frying, using their blood for medicine. But this one didn’t seem to have plans to do any of that. In fact, it seemed...dead.

Aragon took a tentative step forward. The white sand sucks hungrily at her talons, but she pulls them free before she could sink down to her ankles. She craned her neck down, nudged the human with her hooked snout, then jumped back.

Nothing. The human didn’t move.

Aragon tilted her head in confusion. She got closer and sat down this time, eyeing the scrawny little thing. Why was it so thin? What were those weird yellow tentacles coming from its head? Where were its claws? WHY DIDN’T SHE KNOW ANY OF THIS?! She was TWENTY-FOUR. The QUEEN’S ADVISOR. She should KNOW THIS!!

Aragon set her bags aside so she wouldn’t be hindered by them. The lobster she had caught took this opportunity to escape, but she could hardly care. All her attention was on the human before her.

She dipped her head and nudged it again. When it doesn’t move, she buries her snout all the way under it and flipped it over onto its back. Soft, but pale facial features were turned up to her. There were no patches of fur on the chin or mouth like some pictures portrayed, but she still couldn’t tell if it was a male or female. Perhaps it was neither? Gender didn’t really matter to Leviathans- they could come in any form and could chance their sex if they wanted with a simple request to the Whale Gods; was it the same for humans?

Aragon extended one talon and poked the human’s stomach. This sparked no reaction, so she poked again, this time much harder and made sure to press down with more force.

A cough.

A spew of water.

Aragon lurched backwards so fast she stepped on her tail and tumbled to the ground. Her wings sprang outwards in surprise, sand blasting in all directions. For a terrifying moment she could only writhe on her back in the shifting, sucking sand, all four of her limbs flailing wildly in the air, but then she regained her footing and shot for the water instantly, scrambling awkwardly in terror from something not even half her size.

Pressed low to the sand, she watches the human alongside the lobster she had caught. It twitched its antenna and scuttled up the small slope leading to the bay, heard the hacking sounds the surface creature was making, then retreated again, burrowing itself under one of Aragon’s talons. It seemed it would rather take its chances with her than the scaleless thing writhing on the beach.

The human made pitiful noises as it coughed and tried to get up. When it opened its eyes, Aragon could see a flash of storm grey before they fluttered shut again and it flopped over, no longer moving.

A minute passed. And then five. And then ten. The human didn’t move.

Aragon slowly crept out of the water, feeling the lobster cling desperately to one of her claws for a few seconds before letting go, and hovered over the little thing. She poked it in the stomach like before, but it didn’t stir. She had to stoop her head low to press one of her ears to its chest, and her skull was bigger than its torso. She worried about crushing it if she accidentally fell forward.

Thump-thump-thump

A tiny heartbeat. Weak, but present.

The human was alive.

Aragon sat back on her haunches and tapped her chin. From the mess around this island, she assumed something had happened here and this human had been a part of it. However, she couldn’t smell the raw scent this one gave off anywhere else. Where was its pod?

Aragon waded back into the water and began searching the perimeter of the island. There, she spotted an arm sticking out from under some rubble, so she pushed it aside. Instantly, a foul wave of rot filled her nostrils and she reeled away in disgust.

The human’s skin was horribly white, wrinkled and peeling. Pale pink lied underneath- muscle, if their anatomy was anything like a Leviathans. Tendrils of brown waved lazily from its fractured skull. The red trench carved down the backside has become a home to curious minnows.

Aragon may not have known much about humans, but even she knew that this one was very, very dead.

A flash of gold caught her eye- the human was wearing a necklace. She carefully removed it and opened the hatch on the oval-shaped pendant (which was very difficult with how tiny it was in her claws). An image of the dead human and what appeared to be the one of the beach was revealed to her- they were smiling brightly and seemed to be hugging each other with only one arm. The one on the beach was holding up its free talon, sticking up two claws in some kind of gesture.

They knew each other. They were clearly close- kins, perhaps?

Aragon frowned when she realized that the poor human’s clutchmate was dead. It must be so sad and lonely...or maybe it didn’t even know yet?

She walked back up to the beach and found the human in the same exact spot as she left it. She looked down at it pitifully, occasionally glancing at the pendant in her talon. It was definitely the one in the photo. And that meant it was all alone.

Aragon’s tail thumped on the sand as she thought about her options, sending golden grains scattering through the air. A crab came out of the bay a few feet away thanks to the mini earthquake going off on the beach, clicking its claws in agitation. When it scuttled near the human, Aragon threw herself down on all fours over the body and roared fiercely, which was enough for the crab to keep its annoyance to itself.

How strange. Why was she so protective over this scaleless thing? Surely it could defend itself.

However, when she looked down at its stubby little claws and saw no fangs when she checked its mouth, she didn’t think it was in any position to defend.

After a few more moments of thought, Aragon made up her mind: she would bring the human to the queen. The queen would know what to do- she always did. Plus, turning up with one of the scaleless surface fiends will definitely boost her popularity!

Aragon plucked off a golden scale from one of her palms and put it under the human’s not-forked, squishy pink tongue. Holding a Leviathan scale in the mouth was said to grant water breathing for 24 hours—or so the story goes. Hopefully it was true, as she didn’t know how else to transport the gill-less being to the Sea Kingdom hundreds of meters below the surface.

Carefully, using her teeth, she picked the human up by the weird coverings it wore over its pudgy little body. She placed it on her back, between her wings, and then realized it could easily slip off. She grabbed it again, gently cradling it with both talons as if it were a newborn pup. She looked around, picked up her bags, then dove into the water, holding the human close to her broad chest as she propelled herself forward with her tail. After a moment of swimming, she came to a forest of kelp and grabbed a talonful tying them together to make a sling she could wrap around her neck. She sets the human inside of it just in time before a voice called out to her.

“OHHH SEAHORSE!!!”

Aragon rolled her eyes, already knowing who it was. Only one Leviathan would blatantly use her Levia Title, despite her specific orders not to.

Levia Titles were something every Leviathan had. It would come after their real names, was based on something aquatic, and was used quite often, but she never really liked being called “Seahorse”. The only reason she had such a name was because her mother couldn’t think of anything else that was yellow in the ocean, apparently. Not that she HAD to be named after something yellow, but it just made sense with her coloring. At least, to her mother, that is.

After making sure the human couldn’t be seen in the sling, Aragon fluffed up her wings, swallowed her agitation, and turned to the female approaching her.

Boleyn of the Turtles was a perfect example of what the “ancient, original Leviathans” looked like. She had a long, elegant body with large fins sticking out from her head and ankles and back and tailtip. She was a dazzling emerald green color, with the fins being an even more beautiful shade of lime. However, in Aragon’s opinion, her appearance was completely ruined by her infuriating ego and obnoxiously loud voice.

“I was looking for you,” Boleyn said, floating in front of her. She coils up in the way she always does when she stops swimming, and Aragon wonders how that keeps her from drifting away. “Were you trying to get away from me or something?”

“Ah, looks like my plans were foiled,” Aragon sighed. “Back to the drawing board I guess.”

Boleyn deflects her annoyance easily and flicks her with her tail. The curve of her fins are edged with small, pointy spines that scratch uncomfortably against Aragon’s scales. She flapped her wings gently and moved backwards in the water away from the serpentine Leviathan.

“Did you catch anything?” Boleyn asked. “I found a few octopuses but I don’t know if the queen will enjoy them. Didn’t she say they were too oily last time or was that about squid?”

“It’s octopi,” Aragon corrected. “And it was the squid.”

“Oh! Good, good.” Boleyn said. “You didn’t answer my question, though.”

“Just some crustaceans.” Aragon answered. “Not my best catch.” She notices Boleyn eyeing her sling, so she folds her wings in front of her to try and hide it.

“Clearly,” Boleyn agreed. “Come on. We gotta head back before it’s dark.”

The two began to swim through the ocean, the sunlight filtering down from the surface lighting their way until that was smothered by the darkness when they went down deeper. By then, their natural night vision has kicked in, but glowing violet and pink jellyfish also light the path.

“So,” Boleyn started, slithering delicately through the water like a graceful sea snake. “Why don’t you tell me what you REALLY found out there?” Her long, catfish-whiskers are twitching sporadically. Aragon wonders if she could sense her catch.

“An orca.” Aragon answered.

Boleyn raised a brow at her. “An orca? Really?” Aragon bared her fangs at her, but she doesn’t falter. “Come on. Tell me!”

Aragon blew a stream of agitated bubbles from her nose, but spread her wings and was snagged by the current, halting her forward stroke. Boleyn whirled around excitedly and hovered in front of her.

“I found a human.” Aragon whispered.

“A HU—”

Boleyn nearly gave away Aragon’s surprise before she lunged forward and closed her webbed talons over her snout. A few nearby Leviathans turned their heads in confusion. She flared the golden fin running from the top of her head down her neck in agitation.

“Will you be quiet?” Aragon hissed. “I don’t want the whole ocean to know!”

Boleyn nodded, and Aragon slowly pulled her talons away.

“A human,” Boleyn whispered. “Wow. What are you gonna do with it?”

“Show it to the queen.” Aragon answered. “Could be useful, right?”

“Yeah,” Boleyn nodded. “I’m coming! I wanna see her reaction to that! Maybe it’ll finally be the thing you need to become ruler!”

Aragon poked Boleyn in the neck. “Squid brain. Don’t say that so loud. Seymour is a wonderful queen.”

“Dolphin is regal and boring and all about whale politics. YOU are snappy and fun. You would make court SO much more entertaining!”

Aragon actually found herself smiling at the image of her in the grand crystal throne, wearing the shimmering glass crown. She quickly shook that away, though, and started swimming again.

“You incompetent jellyfish.” She said to Anne, who quickly followed after her.

“I speak only the truth!” Anne grinned at her.

Aragon’s wings felt like they had an extra current under them as she shot along through the water. She even found herself doing an excited twirl before she remembered the delicate cargo she was carrying. She gently touched the sling on her chest and felt the form of the human. Still there.

She and Boleyn reach the edge of a rift, and whatever conversation they were having on the way there dies down. They don’t go down into the spreading seafloor below, but instead travel along the edge of the small cliff to find a guideline to the city suspended over the rift. Slowly, from out of the depths comes into view the pulsing glow from the crystalline city.

Home.

As they approached the crystalline caves, Aragon noticed a faint glow, a dulled reflection from the Leviathans within. The city is constructed from giant interlocking blocks of shaped crystals, stacked in a seemingly haphazard pattern to form passageways, gathering caverns, and smaller shelters as needed. Pavilions and terraces, courtyards and gardens, rooms and walkways- it's all there in the sprawling complex of the Sea Kingdom. The city itself rests on a platform suspended over a geological rift, anchored on either side with dark crystal chains and balanced with gas ballasts arranged in the top portion of vaulted domes. However, down below, is a trench that houses the dens of several Leviathans on the upper cliffs, and then various shops and businesses further down, where glowing jellyfish and bioluminescent moss lit up each storefront. Maintaining the balance of the kingdom over the ravine is one of her jobs, although adjustments are rarely called for.

She and Boleyn follow the passageways, through the main marketplace: the Glitter Bazaar (named by the queen’s ward), toward the center of the city: the palace, a giant building not hollowed out from crystal like most of the rooms in the city but rather created from the negative space of the carefully fitted crystal surrounding it. Even the throne room’s giant and elaborately carved arches and columns are just illusions, decorative pieces sticking off from the neighboring rooms. It’s amazing that it’s all aligned so perfectly—but then, it helps that the original architects have worked on this design since its conception. The only thing Aragon doesn’t like about this room is how the walls were designed to absorb light, which keeps the room from getting too bright when it’s fully occupied by phosphorescent Leviathans but makes the space feel empty and dark when she’s there by herself.

On their way there, they catch the attention of a large, burly Leviathan, who swam up to meet them. Flames captured in sea glass orbs make her shiny, dark red scales crackle like hot embers, streaks of gold and bursts of orange and pops of crimson exploding all throughout her body. Her forearms were huge, tipped with thick, coal-black claws, and easily pulled her big body along. However, instead of back legs, she had a cluster of tentacles helping her swim. A few of them were grasping sharks and large fish, her tribute for the hatching day tomorrow. That, along with the natural warmth her scales gave off, gave away who exactly this was.

“Cleves!” Boleyn called gleefully, darting over to the much larger Leviathan.

“Hello, Boleyn,” Cleves of the Sharks said, smiling toothily. “And hello, Aragon.”

“Hello,” Aragon waves a talon.

“And where are you both off to?” Cleves asked, swimming alongside them.

“To see the queen,” Aragon answered.

“Wanna come?” Boleyn said. “Ari’s got BIG NEWS!” She says no more, however, because Aragon flicked her in the nose with her tail.

“Sure,” Cleves said cooly.

Aragon always liked Cleves, and not just because she was different when it came to color like she was. The Leviathan, a Lava Leviathan, to be exact, was always so mellow and relaxed no matter what happened. Plus, the heat she gave off was comforting and hard to not lean into.

The three of them glided smoothly under the front palace overhang and came to a halt inside of the throne room. There, atop the throne made of crystals, sat the queen of the Leviathans.

She was big, but not bigger than Aragon or Cleves. She had wings like Aragon did, though, which were settled calmly against her back. Her scales were bluish grey that shimmered silver in the light. Thin, silky fins ran from her head and down her spine like gently swaying pieces of iridescent kelp. Her tail was shaped into that of a dolphin’s which was probably where her Levia Title came from in the first place. The strands of sapphires and opals she usually wore only added to her beauty, but were no match for the glass crown that glowed every color of the rainbow atop her head.

“Aragon,” Queen Seymour of the Dolphins said, “You’re back.”

Aragon swept out one wing in a bow. At each side, Cleves and Boleyn do the same, although Boleyn’s has an extra flare from the way her tail swishes excitedly, stirring the water around them.

“I am,” She said. “And I bring news.”

“Oh?” Seymour tilted her head.

From the side of the throne, a head pokes out. A small, light pink Leviathan with an underbelly the color of a shell’s interior clambered up the crystals, making Aragon wince when she scuffed a few delicate carvings with her claws, and settled in front of the queen. It was Howard of the Sirens, the queen’s ward, and the easiest way she could be described was: an overgrown axolotl. Short and stubby legs, frills at the side of her head, sorta blobby but endearing (at least to the queen). The fins that stretched out from her upper back and forearms were pretty with how they were colored in every shade of pink, but her face looked too much like a frog’s for Aragon’s taste. Not that Howard wasn’t cute, she was, just definitely not Aragon’s type as a ward.

“And what would that be?” Seymour asked curiously.

Aragon fluffed up her wings to show her importance and went to share the news, but Boleyn beat her to it.

“ARAGON FOUND A HUMAN!!”

Silence.

At least, for a moment, that is.

Whispers. Whispers moving to and fro with the water. Whispers bubbling throughout the throne room. Whispers of disbelief, of awe, of shock, of fear.

The guards and other noble Leviathans that had been in the throne room were frozen, the queen’s wings were stiff, Howard’s eyes were wide, and a small crowd had formed outside the front archway, spilling slightly into the room.

“A...human?” Seymour finally said. She places a protective talon on top of Howard’s head.

“Yes,” Aragon nodded. She held herself tall, barely able to suppress a smirk. What Boleyn had said about her being queen replayed in her mind. “I can show you.”

She carefully removed the human from her sling and pandemonium filled the room- guards lunging into defensive positions with their silver spears raised, nobles backing away against the wall, a pale green servant with a spiraling narwhal horn darting from the room, and several overlapping gasps and cries of shock. Even the queen, who was usually so calm and refined, looked stricken with fear by the appearance of an actual human.

“By the whales,” Cleves whispered. “Is it alive?”

“I think so,” Aragon said. “I found it washed up on a small island north of here. There weren’t any others.”

Seymour stepped down from her throne and Howard scampered after her. They both look at the human with morbid curiosity.

“Woah,” Howard murmured.

“Why did you bring it here?” Seymour asked.

“I thought you would want to see it.” Aragon answered.

“Hmm.” Jane tipped her snout at it. “I suppose we could do research on it.” She turned to one of her guards. “Fetch Parr.”

The guard nodded and swam out. He returned a few minutes later with Parr of the Reef, the queen’s best scientist.

She has a short face with long and smooth metallic horns on top of her head that sweep back from her nose and brow, as well as the neck frills that adorned both sides of her throat. Sail-like wings that start from her shoulders and extend all the way to the end of her extremely long tail move in a graceful rippling motion as she swims inside the throne room. Her scales are a deep azure that’s speckled with starbursts of cobalt and baby blue as if someone had crushed sapphires all over her.

She lands before them, folding her wings and curling her long tail close to her so she won’t hit anyone. Despite this, however, it still wags around like a spastic snake when she sees the human cupped delicately in Aragon’s talons.

“Oh wow!” She exclaimed, bouncing her back talons excitedly. “A real human! I mean, I’ve seen a few before, but always from afar and they’re in their ocean vessels. Never this close!”

She makes a grabbing motion with her front claws, reminding Aragon of just how young she was. She had only turned twelve, the age of adulthood for Leviathans, a few moons ago, yet she had been working as the royal scientist for quite some time now.

Parr took the human from Aragon and immediately began to inspect it. Her snout and claws poked just about everywhere on its body, absolutely amazed by having such a specimen. It made Aragon anxious.

“You have to let me keep the human in my lab,” Parr said to Seymour. Her tail is slapping loudly against the floor.

“No!” Aragon suddenly yelped. Several eyes turned to her and she quickly stood up straight, regaining herself. “I mean- Parr, I know you’re the scientist, but I found it. I should keep it in my care.”

“She.” Parr corrected.

“What?”

“The human.” Parr said. “It’s a girl.”

A girl. Aragon repeated in her head. She had to clench her teeth together to keep from grinning giddily.

A girl. Just like...

Like that, the need to smile disappears. A deep sadness replaces it.

Don’t think. Don’t think about her. Don’t think about it.

“She’s young, too,” Parr went on. “Probably still a pup for humans. Well, not THAT young, but definitely not an adult.” She looked back at the queen. “I can figure out more if you let me keep her.”

“No.” Aragon stepped forward, shaking off her sadness. “I’m sorry, Parr, but I should keep her. I’ve imprinted on her already. Plus, she has MY scale helping her breathe underwater.”

Seymour looked at Aragon skeptically. “Are you sure you can...?”

Aragon knew what she was thinking about. She lashed her tail furiously, creating small whirlpools around her.

“I can take care of her just fine.” She growled.

Seymour studied her from talon-to-tail before nodding.

“Alright. Take her.” She said. “But know that this isn’t permanent. Humans don’t belong here. So don’t get attached.”

—

Aragon’s den was in the tallest crystal tower on the castle, a large room she had carved herself, with a terrace for a spectacular view of the kingdom and easy access to the ocean to swim. Violet and emerald and gold sea glass orbs were strung around the ceiling, glowing from the bioluminescent paste covering them. A large, bowl-shaped bed was at the far side, softened with bits of kelp and seaweed and other palpable materials. Beside it, a smaller one lays. This one had a jagged gold-and-green piece of an eggshell lying quietly in the bedding. Aragon approached it and picked it up carefully. She held it to her chest for a few moments, then gently set it on a shelf.

She took the human out of the sling and looked at her for a moment. She found herself running a delicate claw over the scaleless thing’s soft, fleshy face, twirling what must be fur on her head. It was messy and tangled- she must not groom herself. Silly little thing.

She set the human on the smaller bed after making sure the bedding was fluffed up and soft enough. Then, she climbed into her own bed, punched the nesting a few times, circled herself around twice, then flopped over. She watched the human from the edge of the nest.

“Are you awake?” She whispered like she had done with her egg years ago.

No answer.

“Do you have a name?”

Surely she did, but the human didn’t answer. Aragon leaned over and nearly squashed the poor thing with her head when she checked her heartbeat again.

Thump-thump-thump— it was still there.

She was still alive.

“You need a name,” Aragon mused out loud. She rests her chin on her talons, inspecting the human. “I’m sure you already have one, but you need a Leviathan name if you’re going to stay here.”

She flipped her tail back and forth, thinking.

“Orca.” She finally said, smiling. “I like Orca.”

The human actually stirs, twitching its little stubby claws and making a tiny noise that ripples in the water, but doesn’t wake up. Aragon leaned forward and gently licked her cheek to calm her.

“Sleep well, little one.” She whispered before curling up in her own bed.

—

Two hours later, Aragon can’t take it anymore. She snaps up, picks Orca up with her teeth, and lays her in her own bed. She curls her tail around the human’s body protectively, then resumes sleep.

This time, it comes peacefully.

#six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six fanfiction #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #jane seymour #katherine howard #catherine parr #joan on the keys #never fathomed all the fathoms

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darkredehmption · 5 years

Text

In Good Conscience

#SL #InGoodConscience

@DamagedBrother and @OfFeatherNFang

***

For the love of… Gritting my teeth, I resisted the urge to yank the blindfold off as Rhage drove us back to town like he was driving Miss Daisy on crack. The tension was high enough in the car already, and small mercies, it wasn’t because of me. Phury was clearly getting a workout as a bonded male as he tried to reach his mate, his patience so very paper thin I decided to shut my trap and keep anymore smart ass comments to myself.

When the car screeched to a halt and the doors all popped, I chanced a glance and lifted the blindfold on one side. Back in Caldwell, I figured it was safe, and hey, they weren’t paying attention to me anyway. Not when there were females screaming down the road…

The two brothers sprinted in that direction as the pretty blonde glanced back at me, put the vehicle in park, then leapt out with the keys.

“Have a nice life, Malys,” he called, legging it after his Brothers as I popped the door, blindfold now totally gone, and stepped out onto the pavement. My hand gripped the edge of the door so hard it was a wonder the body didn’t bend or crumple. This was it… this was my moment to leave. The thing I’d been wanting to do all week. And yet…

I slammed the car door and turned away, managing two micro steps away from the car before I stopped. Even from here, my sensitive ears could hear the sound of the females crying, the male’s snarling as they prepared to fight however many of the enemy were there to protect Phury’s mate and whoever else. My heart shuddered, pausing as I weighed my conscience and whether I could live with it if I walked away.

Fuck.

I sprinted for the alley next to me, club goers darting out of my way, startled and hurling obscenities. I didn’t care, not stopping until I was in the darkest part of the side street before going invisible, my wings snapping out as I launched upward. Three strong beats and I was on the roof, sprinting across it and fetching up on the other side that dropped down to the alley with the Lessers, the Chosen, and the Brothers.

Spreading my wings, I stepped on the ledge then leapt upward. One powerful beat upwards and I returned to visible as I dropped. My wings adjusted one final time, the perfect landing to put me on the fucker, before I let them vanish again.

Then I crashed into the Lesser. The sideways trajectory took us away from the other Brothers, and away from the Chosen. Considering I’d dropped on his head, he took it pretty well, rolling and getting back to his feet with a snarl. Black blood oozed from his temple, his ear, and I hitched a grin on my face as I winked, tensing my body for the fight.

Zsadist:

[This was not good. Taking down Lessers was not the issue. The issue was that there were hostages. And not just any hostages, they were Chosens. One of them being Phury’s mate. Luckily the three Lessers that had them in a hold immediately pushed them away to come at us. There were four but I only focused on the one in front of me while Rhage and Phury took on one each themselves. That left only one by himself that I had to keep my eye on. With the girls being free he could come for them at any moment and I could not let that happen. Phury screams out and I look up to watch lucky number four head towards Cormia. Of course.

You are going to wish you never met me fucker. [Biting at his throat to hear the screams that were just music to my ears. I growl as my head shakes back and forth to tear at the enemy’s flesh. Black blood splattering on my scarred face as I let out an evil laugh right before I head butted the fucker. He pushes back and continues to lose his shit, fumbling for a knife he managed to grab.]

And what are you going to do with that? Hm?

[Knocking him down with a roundhouse kick to the chest. My shitkicker stomping down on his hand that held the blade. Digging my boot into him causing not only the knife to fall but the satisfaction of hearing every bone break in his hand. Meanwhile Phury and Rhage were caught up in their own battle with the lessers. I’ve never saw my twin looking so crazed as he did now. Fuck in this moment we were definitely related. He moved with urgency, trying to take down the Lesser in front of him. Eyes wide, his bonding scent all around us. His hands grabbed at the fuckers throat, squeezing so hard I swore I saw the enemy’s black blood seeping from his ears. That’s when I heard it. Gunshots coming from the entrance of the alleyway.

More shots are fired. FUCK. The fucker in my arms still held on though. That was the thing about lessers. Even when we cut them open to almost nothing they still fought. Still moved until you hit them in that spot. Ripping one of my daggers free from the holster at my chest before I plunge it down on the lesser. The flashing bright light forms as he disappears to nothing. I lifted my head as I tried to figure out what the fuck just happened. All I saw was Phury running to Cormia who was covered in blood. Oh no. Scribe no. Then I turn my head to see Malys in front of the Lesser that came for her. Did he…? No.]

Mal:

I had only a second to take in the Brothers, my arrival taking some of the strain out of the situation and allowing them to concentrate on their fights, before the Lesser swung at me. The blade glinted in the weak alley light as I danced and weaved backward, jaw clenched. He wasn’t a rookie at this whole ‘I’ma cut you thing’ either; every jab was to a vital organ, every upward cut and downward slash done to seriously wound or immobilize.

But guess what, fucker, this wasn’t my first trip to the rodeo either.

The blade shot out in a jab and I twisted. I matched his speed, his timing. My body missed the blade by inches. Then my hand came down, capturing that wrist and turning. I put everything into the turn, the whole weight and force of my body. The wrist shattered in my grip as the knife clattered to the ground. The Lesser didn’t seem to care though; he threw his weight into me mid turn, the action throwing us both to the ground.

Cursing, I tried to roll only to feel the weight of him pin me, his forearm coming down to press against my throat as his working hand fumbled to find the knife. Fat chance, pal. My hand moved to the arm pressing down on my windpipe, and with a hard twist and shove I reefed it sideways, his body half turning until I could see more of his nape and back than his front. Then it was a frantic scramble. The next moments passed in a blur as we grappled, until I had my legs locked around his waist and my hands wrapped around his head. One more twist, and the crack that echoed was lost in the snarls and clash of battle behind me.

I panted as I shoved his stinking body away, ignoring the twitching. The females, huddled by the wall, looked to me wide eyed as I got back to my feet.

A shot rang out.

My head whipped to look down the alley as I ignored the fresh burst of aches and pains from my body, the sharp punch and sting of whatever wound the knife wielder had to have given me in the scuffle. A Lesser strode down the dark opening, hand raised. The gun gleamed, ready to dispense unflinching brutality. I didn’t think, launching myself toward the Chosen as I saw his hand shift, that trigger finger squeezing.

Every slender female was crouched against the wall as I put my larger body over theirs, bracing as adrenaline dumped itself into my system. I could hear my heart beating hard, harder than it had in a long time as the world narrowed down to only a few sights, sounds, smells. The females crying out. The snarls of the Brothers. The flop of that twitching Lesser’s leg against the pavement.

And the gunshots.

They punched through the air, a vibration I could feel as he unloaded his clip down the alley. I couldn’t even look to see if the Brothers had sustained a lead injection, too afraid of shifting even a fraction to expose the females beneath me. But I counted.

At a glance the weapon was a nine mil, or close. Your average nine could hold a max of seventeen bullets. Assuming the prick hadn’t been out shooting anyone else tonight, so far, he was at twelve shots. Five left…

Bang. The soft thwump of a bullet in flesh - the putrid spurt of black blood.

Bang. The muted shatter of bone.

Bang. Chipped pavement.

Bang. The bricks above the Chosen and I shattered.

Fuck. I moved then. I turned and lunged from my protective spot over the females straight at the Lesser. I saw the white of his eyes as my own lit with angelic power. Was I moving too fast? The gun went off, but I didn’t care. For a second we stood there, frozen in time, staring at each other. Then my hand closed around the muzzle as I wrenched it away, slamming my elbow into his face as he lurched. He reeled back, then I was flipping the gun and smashing it against his face. The force, backed by power, caved in his skull.

As he dropped to the pavement, the gun fell from my fingers, the power leaving me with the same rush it had come. I was panting as I turned, taking stock of the alley. I couldn’t smell Chosen blood… so at least there was that.

Zsadist:

[Wiping my blade clean off on my leathers as I hustle over to Rhage. Just as I arrived he was finishing off the Lesser in front of him] You good? [I panted out, my eyes inspecting him for wounds. The poor Brother was shaking. Fuck it would not be good if the beast came out to play right now. That was the last thing we needed. He nods, watching as he struggles with keeping the monster inside of him at bay. “Yeah...I need Mary man.” Gripping his shoulder, giving it a nice squeeze] Soon. Just stay cool and we will be home before you know it.

[As soon as the Brother nodded we both rushed over to the others. Rhage moved to finish off the lessers that Malys had taken down. I had to give the Brother credit, he was shaking like crazy but made sure to hit the nail on the head each time. Two bright lights illuminate the alleyway as all evil was finally expelled back to the omega. It then dawned on me that we never gave Malys back his weapons. Damn. Though to be completely honest, I did not expect him to follow us to this fight. Hell, he just spent an entire night strapped to a stretcher in the mansion. Why the fuck would he not escape? Run back to his Mahmen and never look back at Caldwell. What made…him stay? Made him fight along beside us?

My attention is drawn to Phury who was grabbing at his mate, checking every inch of her body with tears in his eyes. “Where did they hit you Nalla?!” He practically screamed the words out. Cormia had tears streaming down her cheeks but held a sad smile. “I’m okay...this isn’t my blood.” He looked puzzled but captured her up in his arms. His lips crashing to her own in a much needed kiss. Their love was something I was glad that my twin had. He deserved it all. After years of putting all his time and energy on me, he finally found the love of his life. And that's all I could ask for. Now only if he could get off my case about finding someone. Snorts. When he moved with his mate to check the other Chosens my eyes fell on Malys. That’s when I saw it. Two wounds in his chest that were saturated with his blood. The scent of it tingles my nose and almost masked Phury’s bonding scent. Almost.]

Turning my head to watch Phury move over with the females. His eyes that matched my own found the former prisoner’s. “I cannot express how thankful I am for your bravery and what you’ve done. These females...” He pauses as Cormia strokes his hair, letting him know it was okay before he continued. “They mean everything to me...and you...you risked your own life for them. I owe you my life man. I truly do. Fuck, the King will be hearing about this for sure.” Nodding in agreement before I moved even closer to Malys]

Brother mine, we need to get him help. The Manse is closer than Havers, let’s take him back and have V and the doctors patch him up. He deserves that. [I didn’t have to look in my twin’s direction to know he agreed on that. It made me wonder where he came from and who is Father was. Who was this Chosen he called his Mahmen? So many questions that I hoped would now finally be answered. Malys went from prisoner to Hero in less than twenty four hours. Shit.

I hear the screeching of tires in the distance, alerting me that Rhage was just around the corner.] Hey man...Hang in there. We are going to get you some help, big time. [My eyes moved from his to his chest again before I inspected elsewhere. Checking to make sure that there wasn't any other injuries I had to be worried about. From the looks of it, though it was only his chest. Okay, good. Making a mental note to contact Vishous once we were in the car. I wanted to make sure the staff was well prepared for him when we arrived at the mansion.]

Mal:

I’d moved so fast… faster than I’d ever moved before. And now everything seemed to be slowing down. Was this shock? Fuck. Really don’t like it. My body felt like a weight, and even as I stood there I knew one step, one move, and I wouldn’t be standing anymore.

The roaring sound in my ears, the blood pounding in my veins, faded slowly, and with it the adrenaline. My chest ached. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Dropping my head slightly, I took in the two red spots, their stains spreading even as I stood there. Well shit. Probably not a good sign.

‘~for them. I owe you my life man…’

I lifted my head as the words punctuated the haze sinking in. Clearing my throat, and tasting blood, I found my voice as my eyes drifted to Zsadist. He was looking at me, and that look…

“Are they alright?” I heard my voice come out. It sounded stronger than I felt. It sounded almost normal. “The Chosen? They’re okay?” I felt like they’d been saying that, and my brain was having a rough time processing it. I mean, I wasn’t… I wasn’t normally being shot at. Poltergeists and demons and women in white didn’t /shoot/ at you… “And you guys…” I let my eyes rake over the Brother, as his golden eyes came closer, then to his Brother with the Chosen. Handsome Rhage was gone. “You’re all fine?”

Sunlight… I thought tiredly. I need sunlight…

Zsadist nodded a confirmation.

“Awesome…”

I coughed, the taste of blood in my mouth, on my lips. My knees buckled. The cold numbness at my chest spread outward. Lung, I realized dazedly. That smelly fuck popped a lung. Or both. Did lungs deflate? I felt like I was deflating, even as I realized I hadn’t hit the pavement. Odd.

I could hear Zsadist’s voice, so close. ‘…we are going to get you some help…’

Then it was lights out.

Zsadist:

[To top it all off the man stood there and started to ask if not only the Chosens were okay, but my Brothers and I as well. Who was this guy? A saint? Scribe. I just continued to nod every time he asked a question. My eyes couldn’t break from his. It was still so mind blowing to me that he just did that. That shit right there screamed Brother. Protecting the race. Flickering my gaze down to his mouth to watch the blood dribble out as he spoke. Fuck yeah that wasn’t good at all. We needed to get him to the manse and quick.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the Escalade come into view. Perfect timing cause Mr. Hero started to fade, his body aiming for the pavement. But before he could fall, I was right there to catch him. His head flopped down on my shoulder as I felt him go limp. Normally I would stiffen at the contact of a stranger but I didn’t with him. I mean hell, the male needed my help to hold him up. Now was not the time to let my demons take over and drop the poor guy. Scribe please don’t let this fucker die on me now. Hell after what he just did he went from the most hated to a fucking hero. That’s when I felt it. This spark. The same spark I felt at the audience house. What the hell was that? Before I thought it was him but now I was unsure. I mean how could this male be causing it right now when he was out cold on me. My fingers knotted at the back of his shirt, giving it a tug as I holler at Rhage] I need your help man! He’s fading fast here!

[Phury moved the Chosens inside the SUV while Rhage rushed to my side to help. I managed to maneuver the male around. Hooking my hands under his arms and lifting as Rhage grabbed at his legs. It felt like déjà vu as we carried him inside the car the same way we did the previous night. Only this time he wasn’t a prisoner. He was a savior. A savior who needed some medical attention and fast. I growled out at Hollywood as he stumbled.] Watch it! One wrong move and this guy is fucked. [He gives an apologetic frown and nods as we put him in the back. Letting the Chosens have the seats as I climbed in with the bloody male.] Go.

[Was the last thing I said to Rhage as he closed the trunk on us. Kneeling beside him, my hands moved to check out the wounds. I could hear the faint beats of his heart. Fuck I didn’t realize how serious this actually was. Quickly I removed my leather jacket. Laying it on top of the male as my hands shifted to apply pressure to slow down the bleeding. He couldn’t die. He just couldn’t. Lifting my head as I call out to my brothers] Faster! And someone let Vishous know what’s doing! [Looking back down at the male as I take in a breath. His blood was all I smelled.] I need you to do me a favor. You gotta hang in there, okay? Malys...you gotta keep fighting. Keep. Fighting.

#sls

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hommepieds007 · 7 months

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East Village First Avenue…Reef Flip Flops…

Source: HommePieds007

#male reef flip flops #maleflipflops #guysinflipflops #guysflipflops #whiteguysfeet #str8 guys feet #nycmen #malefeet #malefootworship #shades #nyc street style

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ffm1 · 28 days

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abhijeetpawar22 · 4 years

Text

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Geographically, the detailed analysis of consumption, revenue, Flip Flops market share and growth rate, historic and forecast (2015-2026) of the following regions are covered:

North America (United States, Canada, Mexico) Europe (Germany, UK, France, Italy, Spain, Russia, Others) Asia-Pacific (China, Australia, South Korea, Japan, India, Southeast Asia, Others) Middle East and Africa (UAE, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, South Africa, Nigeria, Others) South America (Brazil, Argentina, Columbia, Chile, Others)

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The Global Flip Flops Market Report establish a range of primary and secondary research techniques to collect both quantitative and qualitative data on global and regional heads. Using different Flip Flops industry-best analytical techniques, the overwhelming quantity of business data thus obtained is filtered and narrowed down to the Flip Flops information that matter most to businesses operating in the sector or planning to enter.

The Flip Flops study projects practicability analysis, SWOT analysis, and various other information about the leading companies operating in the Global Flip Flops Market provide a detailed systematic account of the competitive environment of the industry with the aid of thorough company profiles. However, Flip Flops research examines the impact of current market success and future growth prospects for the industry.

In this study, the years considered to estimate the market size of Flip Flops are as follows:

History Year 2015-2019 Base Year 2020 Estimated Year 2020 Forecast Year 2020-2026

Flip Flops research provides answers to the following key questions:

What is the expected growth rate of the Flip Flops market?

What will be the Flip Flops market size for the forecast period, 2020 – 2026?

What are the main driving forces responsible for changing the Flip Flops industry's trajectory?

Who are the big suppliers that dominate the Flip Flops industry across different regions? Which are their wins to stay ahead in the competition?

What are the Flip Flops market trends business owners can rely upon in the coming years?

What are the threats and challenges expected to restrict the progress of the Flip Flops industry across different countries?

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weflipflopsuk-blog · 5 years

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Best Mens Flip Flops for Summer

Mens Flipflops

Acquiring shoes really are among the hardest factors you need to really do. What helps it be rough? If acquiring shoes you have to be certain the set that they acquire is hip yet provides relaxation to those ft. Shoes have to be comfy for simple walking without even damaging those ft. Flipflops are a type of vases which were found out a while past. They're thought of as relaxed regular wear sneakers. However, the truth is they are getting to be far more than simply sneakers.

Mens flip flops are becoming substantial popularity along with time. Men may put their other flops who have any sort of apparel. The absolute relaxation these reverse flops present to own feet is unique and also this relaxation may be why for reverse flops turning into the most favorite option of men all around the entire world. Adult men are extremely mindful in regards to relaxation; they'd consistently desire convenience over trend. How amazing can it not be when they can find either jointly? It's true, here can be actually the fantasy for reverse flops. Flip flops men make certain to give relaxation to men feet in addition to maintaining that vogue announcement for casual and formal use. Men no longer further need to think about damaging their toes although attempting to appear excellent. Flipflops have glossy layouts which make sure they are best for those using feet that are delicate.

Easy and Comfortable Footwear:

Your footwear usually does not always need to give you a lot of money. How can it really feel to devote an immense total on sneakers but end up damaging the toes and receiving foot harms? It appears debilitating. The remedy for this debilitating problem would be that a couple of flipflops mainly because not only are they comfortable footwear, however, may also be quite simple on your pocket. You may readily discover budget-friendly flipflops in flip-flop immediate. That has been a moment in which sporting lace has been believed a huge matter. It's still thought of a significant item, so Flip-Flop Direct comes with a comprehensive scope of men's leather flipflops from a variety of colors and layouts.

You may select your favorite couple of leather flipflops and end up in style. You undoubtedly will find up some heads if you showcase your leather flipflops in people. Even the UK has consistently had its fair share of vogue after. And thus, flip-flop immediate is meeting its role by supplying the greatest set of men flipflops united kingdom. Adult men of the united kingdom can currently surf throughout the site and become astounded at exactly what sort they are able to receive in only other flop sneakers and also how they squeeze in the style requirements of the united states in addition to the whole world.

Flip Flops in Brands:

You'll find several hundreds of brand names of footwear which are introducing fresh components of layouts and fashions to this shoe universe. I will be certain you must be mindful of the 2 connoisseurs of this shoe business, including Adidas and Nike. Possessing a set of footwear out of Nike or Adidas may be your fantasy of each and every single shoes enthusiast. Their impeccable layouts and hues convinced to attract the eyes of anybody who seems. Thus sporting a set of footwear from both of these is likely to leave one of the middles of everybody else's eye where you proceed. How do you intend to receive yourself a couple of flipflops from your 2 connoisseurs? Nike reverse flops men will be the optimal/optimally kind of flipflops for its fashionable guys who wish to produce sure they are part of these regular. Nike has made adequate pairs of flipflops for males to offer them with this ideal appearance. Likewise Adidas reverse flops men can also be for sale in a wide selection of layouts to us the fragile ft of the men. Flip Flo immediate is with the comprehensive range of flipflops for guys out of both of these brands that are popular.

Flip Flops with Cheap Rates:

But maybe not everybody is able to manage to get shoes in Nike and Adidas. Thus for those that are lower on funding but nonetheless might really like to relish sporting hip flipflops, flip-flop Direct presents reverse flops in every fork and ranges all of the local and global makes. As an instance, you should get Reef sandals, Havaianas flipflops, and so on as well. I really believe nobody should keep out of becoming themselves apart flops only on account of the amount of money issue. Finding reverse flops to get men might be harder compared to locating them to get ladies. That really is only because men tend to be somewhat more aware in their relaxation. Thus, to aid males to locate their ideal couple of Mens Flip Flops, flip-flop immediate is providing a huge number of kinds of reverse flops. The amazing colors and glossy designs convinced to attract adult men that are vogue adoring.

FAQ’s

What's just a flipflop? Flipflops are a kind of vases with a thong among your large toe and second toe. They're manufactured normally out of plastic or plastic in several instances. Exactly what exactly are the most useful men flipflops? The finest reverse flops for men include things like Reef sandals, Havaianas flipflops, Wando reverse flops, Teva Mush reverses flops, Sanuk Beer reverse flops along with Tommy Bahama Whiskey Slide. Exactly what exactly is the other flop footwear? Twist flop sneakers really are comfortable sneakers to be worn out inside and outside. They maintain your toes let them breathe. They've one thing connected with the only real. Exactly what exactly is definitely the absolute most cozy men's flipflops? The absolute most comfy men's flipflops are all Teva Mush Mens reverse flops, Cross Bayaband reverse flops, Havaianas flipflops and also the Reef flipflops. Why reverse flops are far better compared to footwear? Flipflops are far better compared to shoes as they're simple to put on and extremely snug. They truly are available and therefore avoid the toes from becoming pushed my shoes up. Who sells sea flipflops close me? Flip-flop Direct could be your location at which it's possible to acquire the very best & many cozy men's Reef flipflops. We're providing reverse flops in most single color and design and style. Who sells Havaianas flipflops? The favorite Havaianas sandals for men are obtainable in flip-flop Direct having a broad scope of colors, layouts, and fashions. You may even make them!

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