Seto Kaiba (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firstrateduelist) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kittensinboxes2025-05-13 02:56 am
firstrateduelist) wrote in kittensinboxes2025-05-13 02:56 am
Dear Friend, Across The River [Rivalshipping Mer AU]
It was odd to crave after the sky, when you held no claim to such, was it not?
It didn't stop Seto from yearning for it, however. The glow of the moon entranced him and pulled him to the surface quite often, reflecting off of his markings as he broke past the waves. He was careful, always, to break the water's surface at night, where none could see him.
After all, who would be out at midnight to catch sight of a sea dragon, reclined upon a rocky outcropping to gaze into the entrancing light of the moon, puller of tides, silent deity that called to this one child in particular. Mokuba was probably right to warn him from this behavior. Their pod had strict rules regarding fraternization between humans and dragons, which all boiled down to "don't". As the strongest in the pod, Seto was expected to challenge its current leader, and this behavior put his stake under question.
He had no such interest, however. He knows what others think of him, expect of him, and he has no interest in fulfilling their expectations or guesses for what he might get up to. Wasn't it enough to be under the claw of said pod leader, forced to obey by hook or by crook?
The man spent an immense amount of time trying to quash the look of rebellion in Seto's eyes, expecting that it would lead to a coup. After all, he had no children of his own, and the royal line would thus perish with him. Seto didn't care either way: the royal blood was thin and weak. In need of replacement. Maybe one day it would come about that he'd assert himself. After all, the rakes along his flanks still stung something awful. He'd love to pay Gozaburo back for the favor someday.
For now, he tilts his head up to the sky, long slender neck held in a loose curve of repose as he hummed contentedly with the waves, his markings gently glowing in indeterminate patterns.
As his scales dried in the air, the snout drew in, shifting back into something more akin to a human, but for the finlike ears, the glowing scales beneath his eyes. Because his hindquarters were submerged, his lower half remained fully draconic, the thick, bulky tail ready to propel him if needed.
His song is hums and trills directed at the moon, a tribute to the beautiful sky. It's midnight, beautiful midnight with its placid sky, dark as the depths. He's glad to know he's alone, at least.
It didn't stop Seto from yearning for it, however. The glow of the moon entranced him and pulled him to the surface quite often, reflecting off of his markings as he broke past the waves. He was careful, always, to break the water's surface at night, where none could see him.
After all, who would be out at midnight to catch sight of a sea dragon, reclined upon a rocky outcropping to gaze into the entrancing light of the moon, puller of tides, silent deity that called to this one child in particular. Mokuba was probably right to warn him from this behavior. Their pod had strict rules regarding fraternization between humans and dragons, which all boiled down to "don't". As the strongest in the pod, Seto was expected to challenge its current leader, and this behavior put his stake under question.
He had no such interest, however. He knows what others think of him, expect of him, and he has no interest in fulfilling their expectations or guesses for what he might get up to. Wasn't it enough to be under the claw of said pod leader, forced to obey by hook or by crook?
The man spent an immense amount of time trying to quash the look of rebellion in Seto's eyes, expecting that it would lead to a coup. After all, he had no children of his own, and the royal line would thus perish with him. Seto didn't care either way: the royal blood was thin and weak. In need of replacement. Maybe one day it would come about that he'd assert himself. After all, the rakes along his flanks still stung something awful. He'd love to pay Gozaburo back for the favor someday.
For now, he tilts his head up to the sky, long slender neck held in a loose curve of repose as he hummed contentedly with the waves, his markings gently glowing in indeterminate patterns.
As his scales dried in the air, the snout drew in, shifting back into something more akin to a human, but for the finlike ears, the glowing scales beneath his eyes. Because his hindquarters were submerged, his lower half remained fully draconic, the thick, bulky tail ready to propel him if needed.
His song is hums and trills directed at the moon, a tribute to the beautiful sky. It's midnight, beautiful midnight with its placid sky, dark as the depths. He's glad to know he's alone, at least.