hypermoyashi

In a plot twist that would surprise absolutely no one, Xie Lian was stuck in a net. Again.

Judging from the lightening and darkening of the waters around him, he’d been stuck for about two days now. Which, he would admit, was slightly worse than the average time he spent in nets. Most of the ones left in the cove unattended were worn and frayed, so after some worming, the bindings of the net would snap against his coarse scales. And in the rare event that the nets were newer, fishermen would come by at least once a day to unload their haul, and Xie Lian would be able to free himself after nearly giving some poor soul a heart attack.

Neither situation was the case this time. The net was new and robust, making it difficult for Xie Lina to untangle himself from once his luck managed to get him caught in it. Since it was so new and nice, he assumed someone would be by to check it or pull it up, but even after two days, the net remained untouched.

He sighed and tried to squirm again, hoping it might loosen something, but moving only forced the ropes to further twist and strain around his wrist and fins. Xie Lian had to bite back a whimper and, giving up, slumped onto the ocean floor.

Moving hurt, and he was tired. Maybe, it was time to just give in and lay here. He’d already tried every trick he knew to escape, and nothing had worked. He was entirely at his luck’s mercy.

He wasn’t too hopeful. His luck had never been kind to him.

Just as Xie Lian’s eyes slid shut, he felt the current shift, and something in the water tasted… different. He couldn’t quite place it, but his sluggishly opened to figure out what might be the source.

He was greeted to flowing, dark hair and the glinting of a knife.

He tried to struggle away from it, but that only made his earlier problem all the more relevant when the ropes dug painfully into his wrist and tail. Suddenly, a hand, an actual human hand, was on him, holding him down and keeping him from thrashing.

Xie Lian wanted to scream, but it caught in his throat when the pressure around his wrist and tail suddenly eased. With a powerful snap of his tail, he propelled himself back. Dully, he noted that he thought he’d felt his tail hit something.

He turned, slowly, ready to fend off an attacker. Then, his tired brain caught up with him, and he realized he was free of the net, without a single additional scratch on him.

He hadn’t been attacked. He’d been rescued!

[Read the rest on ao3]

[ Thanks to quinnlocke for coming up with the title to this for me!! Also a certain group chat on discord for being directly responsible for this. You guys know who you are. Enjoy a preview for my upcoming HOB mermaid au, guys! No warnings besides scars/past injuries for this snippet. ]

The siren’s song, a tantalizing rumor of pure bliss, of a sound unmatched by any human voice, so sweet it had enticed sailors to their deaths for centuries despite the many warnings that floated through every child’s story and old wife’s tale.

Really, the tales were exaggerated.

Mostly.

Singing was an odd passtime merfolk had grown fond of, one that made less sense the more one thought about it. They were creatures of the sea; that they had developed voices that could mimic human speech and music at all was astounding. Still, their voices were only slightly better than the average humans. What made them dangerous was when they weaved their songs into spells, more so when the voices of many created a harmony that could make a human forget every memory ever held dear and abandon it all for the call of a cold, airless death.

But even by those standards, Xie Lian thought people would have a hard time finding him dangerous. It had been a long, long time since he’d had anyone to sing with, and even longer since he’d had the will to weave anything into those notes.

He sighed as he pulled himself up onto a rock and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to unknot the shells and coral that’d gotten tangled up into it. It was a pain, but he was used to it. The cove he lived in was somewhat close to a small fishing village, so there were a good number of nets strewn over the cove. Some of them were abandoned, some lost, and some were just waiting for their owners to come back, but no matter why or how they wound up there, Xie Lian always found himself tangled up in one.

He supposed it was inevitable with his luck. It would’ve been more tolerable if not for the fact that extricating himself was never a simple matter. He always managed to worm out before starving to death, but never without suffering lacerations and burns from the rope over his skin. His scales were always fine, too thick and tough to be bothered by the nets, but his delicate tail and dorsal fins were both in sorry states. They neither looked appealing anymore nor functioned as well, their edges ragged and shredded from years of abuse.

Ah, well. That was just how things went.

Just then, a sound cut through the air, sending shivers down his spine. So unused to voices, it took him a moments to recognize, but when he did, dismay crept through him.

 
-/-/-

Chuuya stumbled up the last of the steps with a hand pressed against his side and curses on his breath. Blood still pooled and ran down his side, and Chuuya had to grimace at the amount of it winding up on the concrete at his feet. He could only hope it was dark enough for Shirase to miss the trail entirely.

Chuuya swore when his foot went straight through the rotted wood of the first step, lodging several chunks of wood into his ankle. He half fell onto the platform, and he was only mildly relieved that the wood there managed to hold his weight. As carefully as he could manage, he wrenched his leg free and hauled himself under the shrine’s crumbling roof. He pulled himself to his feet, making the world tilt and spin around him, and the prayer box seemed to mock him as he passed it.

The frame of the shrine’s door was weak enough that Chuuya could pull it open with what little strength remained to him. He shut it behind him, grateful that it didn’t completely buckle, but before he was able to take two steps into the safety of the shrine, the world titled just far enough that Chuuya’s legs suddenly gave out from beneath him, sending him plummeting to the floor.

His vision blurring, Chuuya muttered weakly, “Shit.”

It took a few false starts, but he was able to pull himself up and against the wall. He brought his hands up, pausing to note the dirt and dust that coated them from the floor. He had more pressing things to be concerned with, but… still. Gross.

He tried to tear off a part of his jacket to make bandages, but his shaking fingers couldn’t seem to muster the strength. He’d waited too long, and when Chuuya realized this, a sob that was as filled with equal parts hysteria and despair escaped from his lips.

Refusing to just lie down and die, Chuuya pulled his jacket off entirely. He wrapped it around his waist, leaving the body of it around the wound and tying the sleeves together painfully tight. It would serve better than his fingers, and he had to hope his luck would carry him through until morning.