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manicrouge · 4 months

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An Ode to Serelia

[𝟷𝟾+, 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸] || Part Two

[𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎: 𝙶𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍!𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚡 𝚂𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

[𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍]: 01/01/24

[𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝]: Displeased is the siren who weeps, a sister stolen leading to her finding the man who helps her to her feet.

[𝙲𝚠]: blood, graphic violence, torture, gore, body horror, violence, character death, murder, loss of a parent, angst, mention of suicidal thoughts, smut, loss of virginity, creampie, inexperienced!reader, possessive!Simon

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 23,720

𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 If you're intrigued in the music I listened to writing, there's a link to the spotify playlist, enjoy !!

[𝙰/𝙽]: HIIII !! This is the story I mentioned the other day on my blog, it's here, it's written (hopefully to a decent standard) and it was a lot of fun to write and I hope you have fun reading it !! Also I did change up the appearences of sirens a little for the sake of being #unique and #different. Greek mythologies version would have been interesting, though I'm unsure how exactly a bird with the head of a woman would translate into a cod fanfiction so please forgive my creative liberties.

Also, there may be the possibility for a part two cause I have an idea if you would like that pls let me know!!

Comments are always appreciated, please let me know what you think... unless you think it's the worst thing you've ever read, then tell me, but in a nicer way pls, i.e. 'bless you, you tried' or 'hmmm, I've read better, good try though!'

(I'm very sensitive).

HAVE FUN!!

P.s. Rhymezone and me were besties while i was writing this. Also I figured out how to make the text tiny... I'm learning guys!!! And sorry for it being so long, tumblr was literally lagging near the end of writing this whoops.

Also!!! Share any request you have for me in my 'Ask me anything'!! I'd be happy to write more alt aus with different characters :))

Please don't post my work anywhere else without my permission !!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Illuminated in the night, entranced by the tide, the sailors always come to you, such a mistake they make, too little too late, for they can never ever run. Foolish mortal men, sinking into the watery depths of a sirens den, for a woman in the sea is never just a friend.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

In the dead of night, you awake to a glow. It's seemingly stretching out its arms, calling out to you.

The orange light bends and warps with the movement of the sea, the rolling waves and glaring light for the moon creating a mixture of light which creates a celestial shimmer on the scales on your tail, reflecting off of your black eyes as you turn your head up in its direction.

The muscle in your chest is pounding, muffled words running through your ears as you keep your eyes trained on the light pushing its way from the shore all to make its way to you.

A full moon is never a good thing, although, submerged in the depths of the sea, you find it difficult to make out the shape of the glowing orb in the sky.

Her light confirms your worst fear, though, your eyes struggle to make anything out.

Even at night, the coral surrounding your bed is sleeping, nature reserving its strength for another troublesome day of battling against the grubby hands of the legged folk who rule both land and sea with an iron fist.

'Don't go meddling with the folks of the land, my dear, for trouble is the only thing ye shall find.'

It's the lesson of your mother which courses through your mind, like a shock of adrenaline through the body, a dopamine which has your hands trembling while sitting in quiet contemplation.

Land folk are dangerous, maniacs who believe they can possess the land and all that walks upon it.

To own the world, you would have to be mother nature herself, even then, her presence is discounted for because one of the land folk has in abundance what she lacks: golden coins.

You're familiar with these things, these little circular items they carry on their being, sometimes in small leather pouches, recalling a few of them being in the pockets of silly sailors who though they had the right to the place you and your sisters called home.

During their time spent, they toyed with the land as though she herself can not feel, taking and taking, so much so, you feared your initial silence to their actions would have resulted in you being damned for an eternity.

They massacred most of the fish, took your food as though it was theirs to take, discounting the creatures in the surrounding water. Greedy were the city folk, both of these golden things and your food, so, you followed the rule your mother had introduced.

Holding you on her lap, she looked at you and your delicate little frame, placing her hand against the wound on your tail.

Blood drifted in the the water, swirling with the current of the water and you sniffled in your mothers lap.

How terrible the wound was, throbbing as she plucked seaweed from out of the ground, using it to cover the cut.

The wound had been the fault of the land folk; they mistook you for a fish you supposed, though your little mind really didn't care to stop and acknowledge the truth of what happened.

The hook they had caught your tail with sat beside your mother and as she picked it up, she held it before you, watching as your eyes grew wide, nearly bulging from out of your little head as you began to squirm on her lap. What a monstrous little thing that contraption was, causing such hurt when it was the size of seashell. Keeping it in your view, she shushed you, opening her mouth, showing you her pointed teeth as she cupped your face with her other hand.

'My poor Urchin,' she lamented, 'it can do no harm now; it's not in the hands of the city folk, it's in mine,' she soothed, yet, despite her words you found that your throat was clogged as you recalled the morphed faces of the men who had caught sight of you when you had been caught.

'Is it because we hurt the bad people that they're doing this to the ocean?' you quietly asked, choking out your words as the gills either side of your neck opened.

It felt as though the hook had been stuck in your throat, ripping the insides as you struggled to the words out while sitting on your mothers lap. 'Are we bad people, mama?'

'No dear, we protect the sea and do the job the Lord made for us, it is the folks on her back who are the bad people, we're submerged in her soul, you see, keeping her from harms way and the cruel games of the true beasts,' she firmly stated, 'we hide from the enemy, covered in the current of what gives life to take the lives of those who are much too greedy for this world,' she lectures, 'so you mustn't pity the land folk; if they stray too far from their home and into yours, it is your duty to keep them away.'

'Even if we hurt them?'

'A lesson taught, is a warning sent, my dear,' she sweetly said, 'for a thieves broken neck is easy to repent.'

You acted that day as your mother had intended all those years ago: cruel, brutal, and unforgiving.

By the time you had finished, the water surrounding you was branded with their blood.

You gasped and choked, spitting out chunks of sailor from out of your teeth, plucking chunks of their cotton shirt out of your mouth the remains of a fish bone; it was far too stuck for you to use your nails, no matter how sharp they are.

You cleaned your teeth, watching as the bodies with their organs descended to the bed of the ocean with their gold coins in your hands while their pockets were filled with stones.

It was payment for their crimes and in death, they paid you to keep their bodies down, away from their families, for, you thought of the children on the coast.

They very well may be human, but they are undeserving of seeing one of their own in such a way.

You felt little when as you watched them sink, and upon reflection, all you ever feel is remorse for your silence.

Had you acted sooner, well, you suppose it would have saved you a trip to the deeper part of the ocean when hunting for food.

In the midst of your exhaustion you find your thoughts again, realising in your moment of contemplation, the little light grew closer to the edge of the coast.

Placing your hands against rocks, you push yourself from out of your reserved mellow cove, cocking your head to the side as you reach your hand outwards toward an orange fleck of light which greets you with open arm.

Exiting the cave, a flurry of bubbles pour pass your lips as their chants grow louder, as though they too are underwater.

Your pointed ears twitch as you push forwards through the water.

Your eyes are heavy as you push through the water, growing closer and closer to the source of the light, the sudden shift in the brightness causing them to sting.

You keep your eyes on the mysterious glow, rubbing your face with your hand, the long nail on your pointer finger catching the edge of your lip. Hissing, you watch as a faint trail of rouge seeps from your mouth, pressing the tips of your finger into the wound. Still, your eyes are unmoving, much too interested in the glowing beyond on the water.

Then, you hear voices.

It's the voice of humans, their low grumbles, cheers and chants causing the water surrounding you to vibrate from their ferocious tongues.

'I found one papa!'

Shifting, you turn your head towards the surface.

Whatever they have found is not for their hands, you sure of that much, and your stomach grows weary.

Oh, what catastrophe are they going to muster tonight? What are they going to use for sacrifice?

Your throat begins to knot, its as though someone is pressing their hands around the gills on you neck as your mind races.

One by the ocean is one of your own. Who else would have landed up on the shore? But it can't be, no it mustn't be; they're smarter than that.

No one else is awake at this hour, you have the consciousness of only yourself and the land folk.

Why would an Urchin be so far out that the spliced fingers of man could get to her?

No, they're in their caves, keeping their ears out for the horn of a ship, or perhaps the merry song of a sailor.

As you break the surface of the water, the waves of the ocean brush against your head, rain pouring from out of the sky, The breeze against your skin rendering you breathless.

You're guilty of feeling a crude interest take hold of you as you peer towards the sure, before ultimately deciding to succumb to temptation, following through your curiosity in the hopes to find what has caused such a disturbance.

It's difficult to see, your eyes are trained for the sea, you have little experience on land and the light above is much harsher than the gentle streams beneath the surface.

As you push forward, keeping most of your body underwater, your ears are greeted with more howling.

Their's excitement seeping from off of their tongues, they're bemused with their discovery.

Perhaps it's one of their rituals; you've found, through the time you have been watching them, they're terribly fond of the sacrifice of their own. Their disregard for the very thing they grew from is disheartening, a reflection of their characters.

Their form of sacrifice is truly despicable, against the order of nature, but they do not care for their own. One could be starving at a table full of food, the very table they set, yet, forbidden from touching a single thing all because of another's self importance.

Yet, it is you and your kind who are the monsters.

It's at times like this you long for your mother.

But, with the rain battering the backs of the humans as they form a circle around their special find, you find both her absence and the shyness of the moon leaves crude goosebumps covering your body as you shift in the water.

'MONSTERS,' a silk tone calls as you grow closer and closer, yet, you are forced to stop; the tide is upset, the moon displeased at such a display of savagery.

The thing in your chest stops, your webbed hands forming fists as you crane your neck forward.

'Monsters you are! Let me go,' the voice cracks as more cheering ensues.

'Cover her mouth,' demands one, 'keep her from singing her murderous song; her voice is as sweet as honeysuckle and it is her barbed tongue which has taken our brothers from us, and we will not let it take us! This is for the men we have lost to the creatures of the sea!'

You watch as the waves grow stronger, the rain landing with a slosh against the sea.

It's difficult to keep yourself in one place, both the fire in your chest and the shoving formation of the water urging you to go forward. You know her tone, though it is shredded and brutal as she speaks, unlike the sweet songs you savour.

Serelia.

'No!' she screams, ripping her vocal cords as you see a webbed hand appear from the circle of bodies, blood dripping from down a wound you spy on her shoulder.

Gripping the sand on the shore, the waves from the water brushing against the tips of her fingers and you feel the crashing body of water forcing you forward.

'Please, we would do no harm if you did none to—'

Opening your mouth, you will a tune to escape you, to pull them away from her to give her time to return to her home. Only, your much too choked up as water floods your mouth, the foul weather proving to work in mans favour.

Pushing yourself further up, you open your mouth, letting out a ghastly wrench as a sudden flood of coldness fills your veins, pulling at your tongue, keeping it pressed against the bottom of your mouth. Your lips quiver from the temperature as you attempt to pry a tune from out of your clogged up mouth.

'I- Illuminated—' you swallow another mouthful of water.

Her hand disappears.

You watch as a hand grabs her wrist, hearing her squeal and scream.

The circle of bodies disperses as you see the ends of her tail held in the forearms of a man.

There's a fire in your eyes, a fire enough to leave the sea bloody as your scaled skin and blackened eyes catch a patch of red staining the sand.

The sea betrays you as it sweeps up, carrying away grains of the red sand as the land folk hold their torches up in celebration as blood drips down onto the sand, the ruined blue scales of your sister turning purple in the light of the moon with the mixture of blood which pours from her wounds.

You watch in horror, hands slapping against the water as you look towards the moon nestled in the sky, peering down at you.

In the light of Luna, you recall her face.

Her innocent little face, doe eyes, cheery grin, how her nose would crinkle at the slightest accusation whenever she had done something particularly troublesome. The colour of her tail, how she looked when she sat upon the rocks singing her merry songs for the passersby to listen to.

A gift for the men she was, a gift spoiled by their grubby, wretched hands.

A sister as such spoke with a silk tongue, cohesive, one of your most prized possessions. A chest of jewels from horrid humans simply never compared to the life of one of your own, nothing.

Not even their dastardly golden coins.

Your head grows light as you keep your eyes trained on the humans marching forward, the light from the sticks they carry in their hands growing weary in the distance as the wind grows stronger. It's all too much, the sight of one of your own, the knot in your throat keeps you from gulping down necessary gulps of air. You feel nauseous, an icy chill freezing the blood in your veins.

Sinking back to the depths, your hand is forced and you're kept away from the dreary sight as the current drags you back under.

In the warped complexion of the surface, you see the moon still staring at you and you bark out in fury, 'you backstabber,' you roar, 'I saw my mother in you and you have betrayed our own for keeping you safe,' you continue onwards in your fury, your face contorting as you point up towards the surface.

'She has done nothing, as innocent as an Urchin can be, and you take her? Why not me?'

The current grows displeased.

'We give our lives, all our lives... my mothers,' you heave, placing a hand against your chest, 'I know not the secrets of the land, I don't possess the means to go upon the surface, how- how do we get her back? Why? Why would you take her and not me?' you choke out.

She shifts in colour, you spy her eyes growing red as you look upwards at her. 'She does not deserve to be a part of their game, neither did my mother,' you cry, 'take me, I'm offering myself up, leave her—'

There's a pull in the current, the rolling waves above the surface plunging downwards with a spiralling head.

You meet the eye of the storm, bubbles escaping your mouth as you bring your hands to cover your face. It hooks you, pulling you into as a ton of water comes crashing down into the small pocket of air you have become trapped in.

The last thing you catch before you're senses are flooded with darkness is the red glint in Luna's eye before you descend into the abyss.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It's with the crude calls of village folk that he leaves his post.

There have been some form of disturbance for the past couple of nights, and after the first ending him standing on the shore of the town, his eyes being battered with the wind and sea, he found he has little interest in part-taking in the games of the fools. Fortunately, as he raises from his post, peering from out the window, he hears a shift behind him.

His eyes are unmoved by the chaos beyond the warning, his lids only lifting when he catches a child rushing ahead of the crowd of people.

His words are lost in the hollers of the crowd, though, he bounces with such excitement, the type that can only be likened to when a child gets money for chocolate, or even a new toy.

Only, he's acting as though he has won the biggest and best chocolate bar, his little head bobbing as he bounds down the cobble streets, his hand wrapping firmly around an elder mans wrist, tugging him along eagerly.

From behind him, he hears the scrape of a chair and a weary sigh. 'Another call for me? Swear, they cause mischief in the dark they do,' he comments with a hearty chuckle.

Turning away from the window, the red glow from the fire on the end of their torches lights emits an orange light in the room, though, the man before him is covered as stray arms of light stretch beyond his bulky frame, merely able to catch even the side of the man with a mohawk's face.

'Has Price told y' what they're up to? It's been every fuckin' night for weeks straight,' he asks, tugging down the edge of his mask, tilting his neck either side, a crude snap emitting as he does so.

The man standing in front of him offers him a toothy grin, crossing his arms over his chest with a short nod. Muscles bulge against the white cotton clinging to his frame and he readies himself by undoing the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt, pushing the sleeves to the crease of his forearms.

'Apparently, they're lookin' for merfolk or somethin', y'know what Captains like, doesn't 'ave the time for stupid shit like this,' he explains, 'read too many fuckin' fairytales if y' ask me. Couple ships disappear off of the coast and they believe a fuckin' fish did it?' He breaks out into a spell of roaring laughter. 'They call 'em sirens.'

'Sirens?'

'Aye,' nods the slightly shorter man, rubbing the stubble on his face with his hand. 'Sirens,' he adds, 'lore men to their deaths with their songs they do, supposedly, prettier than any lass on the land... sounds like a story written by a man, eh? Beautiful bonnie's with a good throat on em', paradise if y' ask me,' he proceeds to laugh even harder at his own joke, kneeling over as he does so.

It takes a brief moment for him to realise the masked man standing before him is unmoved by his comments.

Awkwardly, he comes to a sudden stop as he peers up at the man, slowly adjusting his posture, using his hands against his knees to steady himself as he notes the red lights behind him have disappeared.

'Suppose I should go and fetch them back,' he quietly grumbles, 'keep an ear out though, won't ya, Ghostie? Needa make sure they don't try n' sacrifice me to the sirens!'

'Affirmative,' he says briefly, turning his attention away from him, listening to his footsteps against the floorboards as he tucks his gloved hands into his pockets. 'Johnny,' he calls out.

The footsteps stop.

'Doesn't count if I find out y' went into the water to find them yourself,' he warns, looking over as the man nods his head, 'I'll drag you back in and sacrifice y' myself.'

'Gonna take more to get rid of me than that, Lt,' he answers, pushing the door open, 'throw a pint of ale in the sea, an' maybe, just maybe you'd get what y' want,' he laughs, walking out of the door with his hand pressing on the handle of the sword sitting at his waist.

The taller man stands and watches as he disappears into the dead of night, shaking his head in his direction.

'Fuckin' hell,' he grumbles to himself before turning his attention back to the chair he'd perched himself upon, grabbing the dagger he had set down onto the table, grabbing the cloth sitting beside it before kicking his feet back up onto the table, watching as Johnny disappears past the window, heading towards the crowd of chaos.

Turning his attention back to the dagger, he eyes himself in the refection, noting the redness of his eyes before rubbing the cloth over its smudge surface. 'Lost their fuckin' mind, can never excuse shit in a reasonable,' he grumbles to himself, 'better chance of Price quitin' smoking than there is the chance of fuckin' sirens,' he continues on, lifting his head when the candle perched on his desk flickers.

'Bloody lunatics.'

As he sat in the silence of the station, he finds his mind wandering. It's unusual for his mind to ever really escape him, although, with the sight of that little boy jumping up and down in such a manner he finds it difficult to shake a niggling feeling which is poking and prodding at his temple.

His excitement was evident, that much was obvious the longer he focuses on the memory.

If such is the case, if there is truly something behind the little boys excitement, he's there, sitting on his ass, doing absolutely nothing while the man is left to deal with everything to come from whatever has been found. There's something different about the tone of the people, he sees it well.

Terror trickles in, one head at a time, passing by the window in a manic flurry.

At first, he doesn't notice, far too interested in the blade he'd pulled from the sheathe resting on his belt to see the chaos unfolding beyond the window of the station. Their words a muffled, and they seem distant as he eyes the popped blood vessels in the white of his eyes. Moving the metal closer to his masked face, he narrows his eyes, rubbing the cloth over the blade again.

The door bursts open, and while unnerved, outwardly he remains still, snapping his head around.

The man who had left no more than fifteen minutes ago is back, his face wind swept and pale as he heaves out heavy breaths, keeping his arm firmly against the door.

His white shirt is soaked through to the skin, the pinkness of his flesh peeking out from under the fabric, his calf high boots marked with wet sand, crunching as he steps a single foot into the Station, not daring to take one more.

It's easy to read his face, though he finds his brow creasing as he realises that the very look on his face is fear.

Immediately he stands up from his seat, the flame of the candle beside him flickering as he does so. Tossing the cloth onto the table, he sheathes his knife, grabbing his coat from off of the back of his chair, throwing it over his shoulders.

'What?' he asks, 'a fight break out or somethin'? Look like you've seen a ghost,' he breaths.

Johnny doesn't offer him a response for a moment, only looking up towards him with wide eyes, unable to pick his jaw up from off of the ground.

'Fucks sake, Johnny, what—'

'Siren,' he says quietly.

It's difficult to catch what he says with the rain hitting the window and street beyond the office. His lips curve into a crooked smile beneath his mask as he shakes his head.

Sirens? Is he fucking stupid?

The expression on his face doesn't change, even when he hears the small laugh escaping the confines of his mask.

'A lass was on the shore n' she has a fuckin' tail!' he exclaims, pushing himself up after catching his breath, 'tail blue as the sea, eyes black as the void... they bloody exist.'

'And where is she now? She go back into the water to swim off with her friends, hm?' he asks, 'ride away on the back of a horse with a horn on its forehead and wings too?' he scoffs, shrugging his jacket off, only for a hand to reach out, grabbing his forearm.

'Still on the beach.'

'The beach?'

'Aye.' he says, 'ran as fast as I could, woke Price 'n Kyle up, 'told them they had to get to the beach quick. If they keep hold of her, they're gonna kill her- she's a bloody mess, cryin' and screamin'.'

He pinches himself to make sure he's still awake while staring at the soaked man. In no way can he find a single thought in his mind at this moment to make anything make sense.

In fact, he feels a prickling heat flooding his flesh the longer he stands and processes what has just been relayed to him.

They're real, they're real and they have found one.

Despite the implications, it's difficult for him to miss the worry in his tone, and while what they deem to be a monster has just appeared off the coast of Lakekeep, he's still worrying about its safety.

'We have to go, they're gonna kill 'er, Ghost.'

Fixing his coat, he looks down at the dagger resting at his hip, giving a short nod as the man lets go of his arm.

'Price and Gaz followin' along?' he asks.

'Aye, didn't believe me at first,' confesses the man with a short laugh, 'still can't believe it meself and I've seen it with my own eyes,' he says, stepping back out into the rain.

Ghost follows after him, slamming the door of the Station shut as the head down the cobbled path, their boots splashing in the puddles forming in the tight streets as the rain hits the ground harder.

Their chants carry through the village, washing over the usual silence like a tidal wave, flooding his senses with cries and pleads.

As they edge closer, he can hardly believe it as a woman's voice bellows out, 'MONSTERS!'

It's brittle and broken the way she cries, and oddly, he feels that the voice tugs at his heartstrings.

'Mustn't listen to her speak, Lt,' he says, 'what they said is true, apparently the boy found her on the shore and when he approached her, he heard her hummin' a tune- said it had him in a trance,' Johnny says, looking to him.

'Monsters you are! Let me go!'

Stepping down off of the stone steps, the pair of the pursued the scene, hearing stray voices fall from out of the crowd, demanding that her mouth be covered in order for them to fulfil some form of revenge. Watching on, he catches the appearance of a bloody webbed hand poking out from the crowd, landing against the shore with a wet slap.

It's as though she's reaching out for something.

Following the line of her forearm, he watches as the sea climbs up the shore, touching the tips of her fingers as she continues to scream and cry.

Moving his attention from off of the beach, he looks to the water, eyeing the crashing waves as the wind sweeps the fabric of his long black coat to the side. The water is restless, and with the rain pouring from the black sky, it's difficult to make much out that isn't just raging water.

Although, in the glow of the torches which whip and wind in the wind, the light covers a fair distance beyond land, and he spots something in the water. In the darkness, it's difficult to make out more than a silhouette of what appears to be a human head. Only, after another crashing wave, he catches sight of pointed ears either side of the head.

Something is watching them, yet no one sees it.

'No!'

The scream from the centre of the crowd rips him out from his trance as he turns his head, following after Johnny.

'Please, we would do no harm if you did none to us. Please, let me go!' she screams with all her might, her voice piercing to the ears of everyone in the surrounding area.

The crowd dips as they shift, covering their ears with a harsh wince.

Finally, she's unveiled to him.

A gash in her head is pouring blood down her bare breasts as she fights and writhes against the hold of the hold of the men who keep her captive. Her ginger hair is matted and covered with the blood and sand, as is the rest of her body.

The slits on the side of her neck, similar to the ones on a fishes body open and close as she lets out muffled cries.

His eyes trail further down her battered body, the sight of a blue tail stained with blood greeting his gaze. In the light, it appears almost purple as the blood mixes with the shimmer of her scales.

Screwing her eyes shut, she fights with all the fury in her being, and as he watches her, he feels the same heat he felt at the station creeping back onto him, and despite the harshness of the weather, the warmth beaming from his skin is enough to keep him from shivering.

'Alright, move out of the fuckin' way!'

It's the voice of his Captain bursting through the chaos of the surrounding area.

Turning to look over his shoulders, he catches sight of Price and Gaz walking down the beach, and with ease, Price holds his hands up, his words catching the attention of the the booming crowd.

Silence falls upon them, the sirens cries mixing with the crashing sound of the ocean. The man moves past both himself and Johnny, Gaz standing between the pair of them as he parts the crowd with an astonishing ease.

The gasp that passes his lips when making it to the centre is enough to make even his blood run cold.

There's a moment of silence, the sound of the torches whipping against the wind as he keeps his eyes trained on the back of his Captains head.

Clearly, the cogs are turning, expecting what Johnny had told him to be that of a stupid joke, only, it isn't.

It's real and it's squirming around on the ground, staring Price right in the eyes.

'She's a murderer!' a voice shouts from the crowd, 'her and her people, she said it herself,' the continue on, fury carrying their tone past the cries of the woman on the ground.

Price continues to look at her, and as he looks over his shoulder, catching his eye, he turns back to the woman on the ground.

'Take her in,' he says with a firm nod, 'we'll put her in a cell in the Station for now, figure out what to do with her later,' he continues, looking at the two men who held her arms, 'carry her back to the Station,' he rules, resting his hands on his hips as he observes all the other faces in the crowd, 'as for the rest of y', funs over for tonight, get back home,' he demands.

'We'll take it from here. '

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You awake with a brittle moan.

Your mouth is full of send, a dull ache radiating from your chin as your forehead creases when you look ahead of yourself. You teeth bite down on the sand in your mouth, a disgusting crunch causing you to wince.

Memories are stubborn, not wanting to come back to you, only allowing you to recall the sight of blood on the beach and the crashing waves around you.

With a grunt, you attempt to push yourself up off of the ground, a grunt escaping you as your breasts push against the sand. Tearing your eyes from off of the beach in front of you, you shiver as you feel the water wash up, brushing against your limbs.

Looking to your hands, a startled gasp escapes you as you hold one out in front of your face. No longer are they webbed, no, instead, your fingers are separated. Curling your hand around the dark sand before you, you clench it in your fists, watching as it poured past it. Your hips ache as you shift, placing your cheek back against the sand.

Your head is spinning, you can't think of a single thing aside from the fact that your mouth is dry, horrifically dry.

You muster up what little spit you can, expelling grains of sand as the spit clings the your bottom lip, dribbling down the side of your mouth.

The water moves further up, and as you go to move your tail, you're startled by the sound of footsteps on the beach beside you, only, you're too tired to even check who it is.

I've failed as a sister, so if I must go out like this, then I will.

'Ma'am! Oh fuck, ma'am, are you okay?'

The tone is light, different to what you expected to hear counting you have washed up onto the very same coast you had seen Serelia on the night before... if it was even the same day as her disappearance, that is.

The sand crunches beside you as a shadow looms over you, keeping you from the brutal beams of the sun, a hand pressing against your shoulder.

Picking your head up, you muster out a pained whimper as you look at the man in front of you. Concern is etched on his brow as he stares down at you, shrugging off a piece of clothing, resting it against your shoulders.

Your eyes are narrow as you keep your eyes trained on him, unable to look anywhere else as he carefully places his hand against your cheek.

'Can you tell me your name?' he gently asks.

You swallow hard, your chapped and cracked lips pressing together.

Your eyes grow heavy.

You hear another curse under his breath as exhaustion rattles your body. Your head falls heavy and his hold on you slips away, gently placing your head back against the ground. You hope he leaves you be, allows the sea to swallow you whole so you can be with your own once again.

Two firm hands press against your shoulders, gently guiding so you're lying on your back.

His shadow keeps the sun from you once again as he scoops you up into his arms, keeping a firm grip around your shoulders and tail. his hand slips slightly as he uses his jacket to cover your breasts, and you shift when you feel his hand move lower, being extra cautious to cover up your tail.

His breathing is rough as he rushes up the beach with you in his arms, every step causing you to shift or hiss.

'Sorry, love,' he softly apologises, pulling you closer. You note how his pace slows upon him noticing the pain he's causing you by running, 'do you know where we are?' he asks, looking down at you.

Cracking your eyes open, the back of your neck burns as you attempt to look back at him. Poking your tongue past your lips, sand scrapes against the back of your throat as you open your mouth, all for a hoarse croak to escape your lips.

'Have to get you somethin' to drink,' he says firmly, 'you're okay now, love, I promise,' he reassures, pulling you closer to him.

You muster up a short 'hm', resting your head against his chest, listening to the little muscle in it thumping as he heads up the stairs, taking your further away from the beach.

The pair of you remain in silence and you hear the passing giggles and whispers of passersby as he keeps you against him.

You're unsure of what they're saying, though you're sure they're most likely laughing at your tail.

It's surprising hearing such a humorous reaction from them, figuring they would respond in a similar manner to how they did when you had heard Serelia screaming on the shore.

Mustering up a grunt, you flinch as your body is lightly pressed into a door. It squeals as it opens, and the very first thing you hear is a booming voice. It causes the dull ache in your head to worsen as you flinch.

'Am tellin' ye, it's straight out of a fuckin' fairytale it is,' booms the voice, 'can y'—'

There's silence.

Your eyes crack open as you observe the room you're in.

It's different to home, there's a rich smell, similar to the smoke from the lights on the beach.

'Found her on the beach,' confesses the man holding you, 'Johnny, go get some water, please,' he asks, 'she's got a mouthful of sand, she can hardly speak.'

There's a short answer, you can't quite hear it, as he moves you further into the room, setting you down.

Your damp hair hits the plush fabric of a pillow and something is pulled over your body. It's light, harmless.

'Where was she?' asks an unfamiliar voice. It's low, his accent is thick and as you turn your head to the side, you note the man has a thick brown beard, his hair quite short. Stepping towards you, he rests his large hand on your forehead. 'She's burning up.'

'She was near the same spot as last night where that... siren was,' he says.

It's as though life is breathed into you as you quickly sit up, ignoring the dizziness wrecking your mind. The man quickly pulls his hand from off of your forehead, moving it to your shoulder. 'Calm down, love,' he gently instructs, looking to the man standing beside you, 'you reckon she was attacked by it?'

'Could have been; she seems shaken,' he confirms.

Confusion hits you as you lift your tail, only to find that is has vanished.

As you lift your legs, a distraught gasp escapes you as you catch sight of legs.

Two legs- the same as the three men in the room have.

Quickly, you slap your hands to the side of your ears, your chest heaving as you realise your ears have shrunk, resembling that of the legged folk. Everything seems to come tumbling down in front of you, your head pounding as your eyes begin to sting.

'Hey, hey, you're fine,' hushes the man who found you on the beach. The door opens again and a cup of water is handed to him. Taking a seat beside on the bed beside you, he brings to the cup to your mouth. 'Have a drink,' he instructs.

You want to tell him no, to demand to know what they have done to her, yet, you know you can't do anything until you have something to drink.

So, you press your dry lips against the rim of the cup, allowing him to pour it into your mouth. The feeling is euphoric, unlike any sensation you've ever dreamt of, and you eagerly swallow down mouthful after mouthful of water, taking the cup in your own hands.

You're aware of the eyes on you, but you don't care, drinking from the cup until it is empty. With heaving breaths, your wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, keeping tight hold of the cup.

A hand settles against your knee, and as you look back up, the man who was sitting in the corner is now standing behind the two closest to the bed. You note the man who brought you water has an odd haircut, while the much taller man's face is completely covered aside from his eyes.

It's strange, the fabric of a thick hood pulled over is head, his eyes peering through the holes of a skull.

Is that real?

'Sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to upset you,' says the brown-haired man, squeezing your bare shoulder.

You look at him with your lips pressed together, bringing the cup closer to you as you swallow hard.

Despite his caring words, you find yourself unable to open your mouth- unable to trust him. He's going to hurt you if he finds out what you are, then what? You're forever bound to their land?

'What's the last thing you can remember before you washed up on shore?' he asks.

You look at him with beady eyes, and the man with his hand on your knee pats you gently, 'you're safe here, we're not gonna hurt you,' he reassures. 'You seemed panicked when we mentioned the mermaid, does it have something to do with her- or more of them?'

Your mind is racing trying to piece together a narrative.

Confirmation that she was the thing that put you in such danger will surely be a death sentence- if she isn't already dead. Living with that on your consciousness is a horrid thought to even think of, so, you distance yourself away from creating an accusation, though you find yourself in trouble as you realise how you reacted to the mention of her.

Essentially, you've acted on impulse and no matter the response, you're unsure if it's going to suffice.

'I- I...' you begin, your throat burning as you bring your hand up to clasp it, 'I was on a ship,' you answer, 'I remember it in water- b- but then there was a storm,' you explain, your voice choppy and broken as you rub your hand up and down your throat finding that even your gills have disappeared. 'The siren,' you begin, clearing your throat, 'she tried to help me.'

'Help you?' mutters the one with a strange haircut. 'How'd she do that, lass?'

'I- I was stuck,' you say, 'I couldn't get out an' she tried to, uh, pull me out,' you explain, 'but she got hurt- it might not even be the same one but... there was one, a good one,' you explain, gulping hard as the masked man standing beside the man with his hand on your shoulder shifts on his feet, his eyes burning into your flesh, the sunken eyes behind the skill mask leaving goosebumps on your flesh.

He's harsher than last nights current.

Keeping your eyes trained on the man, you observe him as he peers down at you, his built frame making you feel small. Most definitely, you do not want to get on his bad side; he could probably crush you with one hand.

'Couldn't have been the same mermaid,' he answers, his tone causing your chest to almost rattle, 'took an entire night for you to even wash up here, you wouldn't have survived if it was her,' he notes, the others around you shaking their heads in a collective agreement.

Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears, you feel blood coursing through your veins as you look up at him with teary eyes.

Your bottom lip protrudes as water begins to pour from your eyes. It's unlike anything you've ever felt, and, despite your burning eyes, you find the sensation oddly relieving.

You throat grows tight as you sharply inhale, allowing the cup to rest against the covers as you press the tips of your fingers into your cheeks.

A hiccup escapes your lips as your mouth trembles, all the misery of being lost and having lost escaping you in a cathartic sob that causes your entire body to shake.

'I- I don't know where I am, I- I'm scared,' you confess as more water clings to your eyelashes in little droplets, clinging on, only for their grip to fall loose as you blink, releasing more fresh streams onto your flesh.

Releasing a hand off of your shoulder, the man stationed beside you looks to the man who has his hand on you knee, 'you think you can go and get her some clothes? Poor things on show for the entire village to see,' he says. The man purses his lips for a moment, 'she's gotta have something that she doesn't want.'

'Has so many fuckin' dresses she won't even notice one has gone missing,' he says, standing up from off of the bed, 'I'll go and try and find something, as long as I don't take her cyan one I don't think she'll be too bothered,' he shrugs, 'keep an eye on her for me, won't you?' he asks, looking at the three.

The man with the peculiar haircut places his hand against his shoulder, patting it, 'she's in the best hands of the entire village,' he reassures, 'go an' find the lass some clothes, Gaz, we'll kep 'er safe,' he promises.

Gaz. What an odd name.

The rest of their conversation is lost on you as you're far too caught up in the tightness in your chest and the sounds of the screams you heard on the beach the night before to even think about anything else.

Only, when the door shuts, you startle at the sound of the slam, snapping your head up.

'MacTavish, I need you on patrol today,' says the brown-haired man. The disappointment on his face is notable as his eyebrows curl, 'everyone's on edge with the entire mermaid incident, the last thing I need I people trying to cause more trouble or almost drownin' going to find one of their own,' he says, 'speaking 'f which, need to go and check on her myself, make sure the head wound isn't goin' green,' he huffs, turning to the masked man standing behind him. 'Keep an eye out on her,' he states, turning his attention back to you.

Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to bathe in your emotion as you come to terms with the fact that she's alive.

Your eyes meet with his, your heart burning at the sight of pity burning in his gaze.

If things were any different, you very well would have wiped the soft smile off of his face, but you look at your options and his uniform, likening it to one your mother had described to you in the past.

'They like to think they have control, dress up in clothes just to make the isolation of their species more capable,' she explained while sitting in upon one a rock. You accompanied her, looking at her. She had such knowledge of the world beyond the water that you were simply awestruck with every story she told you. 'Fabric makes people listen, they're scared of the people with the golden buttons and sharp metal swords.'

'If you need anything, ask him and he'll get it for you,' he asks, looking over his shoulder at the man.

His tone grows harsher upon the mention of him doing his duty, your eyes falling to the man.

'Won't you, Ghost?

The masked man grabs the chair he was sitting on when you first entered the room, moving it as the brown-haired man and MacTavish move in the direction of the door. The chair settles at the side of your bed, as the pair move towards the door.

'Affirmative,' he grunts, taking a seat beside you while the two leave the Station, leaving you alone with the masked man called Ghost.

You look at him briefly, swallowing hard.

It's difficult to sit in silence, your stammering breath a reminder of all you've lost.

Beady eyes look at the masked man as you attempt to choke up the courage to say something to him. Despite sitting, his frame is much bigger than anyone else's you have ever seen, and as he leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, you flinch.

'Where's the mermaid?' you ask.

You watch his eyes scan the area surrounding you.

The fabric of his black mask moves as he sucks in a breath, 'can't say,' he confesses, 'confidential; unsure if anyone is listening out to try an' find her. If word gets out where she is, she'd be dead by tonight- if not sooner,' he explains.

'Why do they want her dead? Has she done something to you?'

You want to scream.

The man beside you is short with his responses, speaking of her as though he understands the whole picture, when in reality, their confinement of her is a crime punishable by death.

'She said somethin' she should've have,' he answers simply.

His words drag against his throat as he speaks to you.

'Oh,' you muster, resting your back against the wall behind you.

'Where were you goin'?' he asks.

You raise an eyebrow in his direction, tilting your head as you attempt to process what exactly he means by his statement.

'You said you were on a boat and you were rescued by one of the sirens,' he reminds you, your face flushing with colour as you realise you have already forgotten the tale you were twisting.

'I was with my sister,' you say, 'the memory is quite fuzzy,' you confess, knowing your knowledge of the surrounding land is limited to a map of the sea, not what is beyond it. 'It was for one of her trips, she was travelling to see her husband and then the storm hit.'

'The sea isn't too fond of forgiveness,' he remarks.

'Neither is the land,' you say, falling back into the security of the covers over you, allowing your back to slip from off of the wall, lying down.

Pushing himself up, he looks down at you, mustering a small hug as you sleeping exhale.

All the emotion and crying has your eyes drooping, disregarding your conversation. The man doesn't judge you for that, however, as you watch him looking over you with gentle eyes behind the mask.

'Get some sleep,' he says.

You expect him to say more to that, yet, instead, he pulls his chair from beside you, moving to it back to the corner he was sitting in before.

You keep your eyes on his broad back, watching as he sits down, kicking his feet up on to the desk, keeping his eyes out of the window.

Your eyes stay there as you drift off to sleep.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

When the door eventually bursts open, he's quick to send his eyes in the direction of Gaz as he walks through it with a bundle of garments. His mouth is open as he goes to speak, only to quickly shut his mouth when he is eyes falls to you, sleeping in the cot.

Holding the handle of the door, he pushes it shut so the lock clicks as quietly as possible, even going as far as to wince while doing so.

'I managed to find some clothes for her,' he says, 'not sure if I'm going to be a single man when she gets home, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.'

Setting the clothes down on the desk, Ghost stands up, picking the green cotton frock up from off of the table holding it out.

'I've never seen her in it,' Kyle says, 'don't even think she remembers having the thing, so she can't be upset about it if she completely forgot it existed, right?'

'Affirmative,' Ghost responds, 'wouldn't be too sure about it, though. She has an eye for the strangest things,' he warns, to which he laughs.

'You're right with that,' he says, 'I saw the Captain while I was out, he was comin' back from checking on the siren, told me to ask you if you're alright taking the girl in until she can remember what day it is; we can't leave her alone.'

He feels his chest tighten as he looks to you, seeing you peaceful sleep as you turn under the covers, your bare arm over your covered torso. 'You're the only one without someone... not too sure how—'

'I'll do it,' he says keeping his eyes trained on you.

Kyle looks at him with wide eyes.

'Well, she has no money does she? Not like an inn keeper is gonna give up a room for her, and I don't want to pay out of pocket to house her when she can just stay at my place.'

The man in front of him grins brightly.

'She'll hardly be any trouble, I'm sure of it,' he reassures, leaning against the desk, 'did she say anything else to you after I left?'

'She was with her sister on a ship heading somewhere to meet her sisters husband and that's then a storm hit and the ship was swallowed by the sea,' he says, 'she didn't say much, too out of it to really make much sense of the world around her.'

'Poor thing,' Gaz sighs, looking at Ghost, 'be nice to her, hey?'

'Wasn't planning on bein' cruel to her.'

'Good, good,' Kyle nods, 'Price told me to tell you that y' can have the rest of the day off if you get her out of the station, by the way. Take her home, get her something proper to eat and see if she wants to talk about it- he's sending something out to other villages to see if they have anyone who fits her description.'

'Doubt there'll be any news back for a while,' he says, approaching you, 'they don't care much for their own.'

His hand rests upon your shoulder and you grunt.

'I'll leave you to it,' Gaz calls from behind Ghost, 'gonna go and try and catch up with Johnny on patrols, doubt my lady would be too pleased with seein' another girl naked,' he chuckles, heading towards the door.

Waiting until the door is closed, Ghost proceeds to crouch down in front of you, rough hand nudging you again.

Your eyes crack open, a startled gasp escaping as you're greeted with the sight of his bone mask right in front of your face.

He feels you tense in his hands.

'Didn't mean to scare you,' he says, 'got you some clothes to keep people from starin' at you love, and then you're coming back to my place,' he explains.

His voice is softer than the tone he held with you prior and you swallow hard.

'Your place,' you croak, your face burning red from the sudden scare from your sleep.

'Yeah; until you're back on your feet and until that head of yours start workin' you're gonna have to stay here,' he explains, 'Price has sent messages out to local villages, see if any family members pick it up.'

Your face falters.

You're going to be here a while.

'Gaz got you some clothes,' he says, motioning over to the table.

Pushing yourself up, you manage to move your legs so your feet are planted against the floor. Ghost averts his eyes away from you, turning away. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you look at the ground at your feet.

Surely it's not that difficult.

Pushing your self up off of the bed, you take a short breath, your legs wobbling as you land back onto the bed.

Despite being gifted the ability of legs, you find it quite pointless that you cannot use them. The water is much easier to navigate than the land is, that much you're sure of.

Looking up at the man in front of you, you let out a small breath.

'Can you help me?' you ask.

He doesn't bother saying anything to you, simply walking over to the table with the dress on it, it's an ugly green colour and you catch yourself grimacing at the fabric. Though, as soon as his eyes are on you, the sneer on your face fades away.

He's rough in the way he pulls the dress over your head, though you manage to get your arms through the sleeves with ease. It's an odd feeling, feeling the fabric against your skin, the elastic cuffs of the sleeves clinging to your arms.

Helping you to your feet, you stagger forward, your face growing red as you grab his arms for some form of support. Yet, he doesn't move, he doesn't even flinch, busying himself with pulling the skirt down, it stopping mid-thigh.

Your legs tremble as you wince, you grip growing tighter on him as you fight to stay on your feet.

'Guess I haven't quite found my footing after the accident,' you awkwardly laugh, wishing to be relieved of this torture.

Your face is beat red as you continue to curse the moon for putting you in such a position, cursing the your words during that night.

Leading you back down onto the bed, you're quick to let go of his arms as he looks at you. He knows you're not going to be able to walk to his house, and he fights off the urge to huff.

There's something so simple yet so difficult about the task... he's a fucking lieutenant in the village guard and he's been put on babysitting duties.

Be nice to her, hey?

Kyle's voice is like a dagger through his skull, and even though you can't see his face under the mask, he musters up a tight-lipped smile, swallowing all his pride for himself and his position.

'I'll carry you.'

Neither of you are happy about this, though a tight-lipped smile of your own appears on your face.

'Great... thanks.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

His home is humble, quaint, tucked away in a quiet pocket of town.

Pushing open the door, he tilts his head towards the entrance of the house. With uneasy feet, you wobble as you take a step up into his house, his hand grabbing your forearm when you nearly loose balance.

During the course of your travels, you had fought against him, insisting after catching people staring at you for him to put you down and let you walk freely.

At first, he doesn't listen, keeping his eyes trained on the path in front of him, though, fortunately, he relented after you started to squirm in his arms.

It was difficult at first, but you got the hang of it... as long as his arm was around your waist.

It finds its way back around your waist for a short moment as he helps you up the steps.

'Careful,' he utters.

'Thanks,' you respond, holding the sides of the doorframes as you walk into the living room.

It's a quaint and simple little space, although, your cove is much better than this place. Yet, you suppose you cannot be picky while undercover, his hospitality rendering you speechless.

The mystery of the red moon and her tide is still very much fresh and new, you know you must not do something to compromise your safety or your chances of finding Serelia.

Even if it is resulting in you finding shelter in a man with a skull masks home.

Pulling his hood from off of his head head, he shrugged his cloak from off of his shoulders, hanging it up on a wooden stand placed beside the door.

You stand and watch, your arms pressed to your side, still trying to understand how exactly humans manage to stand so straight on their legs.

He turns to look at you, you see his eyes shift under his mask, 'it's not much, and you're going to have to be okay with sleeping on the couch.'

'Much more than what I have right now,' you respond with a soft smile on your face.

'Thank you, Ghost,' you say

'Of course,' he says with a short nod, 'you can help yourself to whatever you want, all I ask from you is to keep out of my room.'

'I can do that,' you reassure, nodding your head.

He doubts you'll even be able to climb the stairs as he can only liken the way you're walking to that of a baby deer learning how to walk for the first time.

He can't complain however; it's entertaining to watch you, and he does so as you make your way over to your new bed, holding your arms out either side to balance yourself before toppling onto the couch with a large exhale.

Sometimes his limited compassion still manages to get him into terrible situations, and as he looks at you, he can't help but worry about what he has gotten himself in for.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After spending some necessary time in his home, you eventually find your feet... both literally and figuratively.

It's difficult for you to stay confined to the four walls of his house, granted, you don't really do much and find joy during your first day there reading through an old shabby collection of books on his shelf.

There's nothing interesting, and you're unsure as to whether or not he himself has read any of them as when you open one, you sneeze from the amount of dust covering it.

It's a fun past time you find, especially during the few attempts of being more steady on your feet. The moon must have heard your complaints as, during the second day, you're nearly unstoppable, aside from the burning in your calves each time you take a step forward.

By the third day, you're almost sprinting out of the house into the village.

It's difficult to adjust to first.

The land is unknown to you, yet, you don't threat.

Instead, you search the village high and low, walking into every store, listening to every conversation of the locals in the village. You feel your skin crawl whenever you hear their laughter, though, it's as though talk of the siren has disappeared completely.

From spending time reading in the library to simply perusing the streets, you're wounded by the lack of information.

Why isn't anyone talking about her? Surely they know where she is; humans hate us and they'll want us gone for the issues we've caused.

The question follows you for a while, only stopping when you see the door open during your fifth night of staying inside Ghost's home.

He appears tired and as his hand moves to his cloak, he quickly stops himself from pulling it down when he sees you in front of him.

It's an odd thing, you've observed him over the past few days, and not once has he shown his face.

Still, you don't care for his habits as you open your mouth over dinner after swallowing a mouthful of food. Your hands is grabbing for the water next to your plate as you state, 'how come no one in town is mentioning the siren anymore?'

He looks at you, chewing under his mask which he holds up after each bite. 'Price has made it a rule,' he states, 'Lords out of town right now on business, until he comes back, we have to hold her per his request,' he explains, 'we've gotta keep her safe and if anyone is heard discussin' her, he's treating it as though it's treason.'

You offer a short nod, going back to eating your food.

'Why?' he eventually asks.

'I just thought, with something as big as this discovery, it would be the talk of the town for years,' you say, 'I thought it was strange, that's all.'

The look he gives you makes you think that he doesn't quite believe what you're saying to him, though, he doesn't press on the matter, going back to eating his dinner.

It's strange to spend time with a human, especially living with them.

He doesn't speak much, only really talking to you at dinner time or greeting you after returning from his shifts around the village to make sure everything is in check.

'You can take the mask off, you know,' you say, observing his discomfort, 'your identity doesn't make a difference to me, besides... this is your home,' you say softy.

Truthfully, the mask is just as much as an annoyance to him as it is to you.

Surprisingly, he listens to your words, pulling the mask tied around the back of his head off of his face allowing you to see his mouth.

Really, he does even know why he committed so long to wearing the stupid thing, growing especially frustrated as dinner grew to be more of a chore than something of enjoyment.

Old habits die hard, he supposes, and the habit of wearing around you died that night thanks to your comment.

While eating, he attempts to ignore your eyes on him, though he is far too aware that you're staring at him, not missing the way your cheeks have a light tinge of red to them.

Grinning to himself, he shakes his head at a crude thought that suddenly pops into his mind, narrowing his eyes as he lifts his head to look at you.

You drop your head immediately, focusing much more on your food than on him, though your embarrassment is difficult to miss.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Simon seems warmer to you after you've been at his house for a little longer. The longer time passes by, the more trips you're taking to the ocean.

It started with one in the early morning, although, you find yourself walking there at the beginning of every day all to talk to the waves, hoping you'll see the familiar face of one of your sisters in the water. Yet, you don't.

Part of you is happy with this fact, not wanting them to see you in such a state wearing the ugly green frock, the only thing you own aside from a pair of sandals which Ghost brought with him upon returning from a shift.

On occasion, you bump into one of the men you saw when you first stop at the station. You learn that MacTavish's name is actually Johnny, and Gaz, the man who found you on the beach, is named Kyle.

They stop to talk to you for a while, sometimes walking with you to the beach where they speak with you.

Nothing interesting really comes from the conversations until, a month into your stay in the village, Johnny blabbers a little too much.

'He enjoys your company, bonnie,' he confesses after complimenting your new pink dress Simon bought you, 'was telling me that he's enjoying giving you little gifts and having you with him for dinner. I'm tellin' you, he like you more than you think.'

'How can he like me when I don't do anything but steal his food and sleep on his couch?'

'Couldn't tell ya, lass, strange man is our Simon.'

You hold your breath.

'Simon?' you ask slowly, a smile creeping on your face.

He slaps a hand over his mouth, his face growing red.

'His names Simon?' you ask, craning your neck forward to look at the blushing mans face.

'Forget I said anything,' he demands, rubbing his face with his hand. 'Please,' he almost begs. 'What I mean to say, lass, is that he does like you, and if you haven't thought of doing something for him, maybe consider it.'

His words follow you into the nighttime as you're helping Simon cook.

It's been something you've been doing for a while, intrigue taking you down the strangest path.

'My mum used to make this soup,' he explains, 'the recipe for it is somewhere, I don't know where it's gone though. It was great for nights like there.'

You hear a bell chime in your ears, thinking back to Johnny's words. Simon doesn't miss the smile on your face.

'What? What did I say?'

'Nothing, Sim-'

You freeze.

The pair of you stare at each other.

'Ghost, I mean Ghost!' you exclaim, holding your hands up, realising that you have most definitely gotten poor Johnny in a hell of a lot of trouble.

'Johnny told you didn't he?'

'He slipped up while he was talking to me today, he didn't mean it and I'm sorry if-'

'Say my name,' he cuts you off quickly and your eyebrows furrow.

'Simon?'

He grins to himself, turning his head away acting as though you have just done him the greatest act of service. 'I like how it sounds when you say it,' he says, going back to chopping up the vegetables, 'much better than Ghost.'

Redness spreads to your cheeks as you admire the look of joy on his face, finding that you want to do that more in order to see that look on his face.

So, as you're eating dinner that night, and even when you're lying on the sofa, you scheme like a criminal.

You toss and turn before you eventually get up and begin your search. Holding a lit candle, your eyes scan through his shelves looking high and low.

You spend what must be hours flicking through books, moving things, looking under the sofa, attempting to squint your eyes to look through floorboard before you find it tucked between the countertop and stove in the kitchen.

Only then can you rest easy, your eyes closing as you think about the mission you have got to complete tomorrow.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Walking through the bustling village main street, you listen to the bright tunes of the surrounding marketplaces, small stalls on either corner of the street, pushing everyone on the main road closer together.

You brush shoulders with a few people, keeping your arms out in front of you as you walk with a basket in front of you, the gold coins Simon has given you per your request rattling in your other hand.

It's rare you're outside as you spend most of your times in the library or back at Simon's home. Though nothing is going to stop you from making Simon the soup he mentioned last night.

Your heart flutters at the thought of how much he has done for you, and as a form of a thank you, you're going through the crumpled up recipe you stole from out of his kitchen, going to different stalls to get the things you need for the recipe.

The trip renders you exhausted, and by the time you're back at his house, you're fighting against sleep as you chop up the vegetable, putting them into the pot. You're unsure if you're doing it right, although, the longer you leave it to simmer, the more it takes the shape of something edible... you suppose.

You keep it on the stove until you hear the door open, and whether or not it tastes good, you're fine enough with the delightful smell that is exuding from the pot on the stove, looking in the direction of the door as it opens and Simon steps into the room.

'You're back,' you cheer, dropping the wooden spoon in the pot, approaching him.

The door shuts and he pulls his takes his hat from off of his head, pulling off his mask.

A crooked smile greets your eyes.

'What's all this?' he asks, his arms resting on your shoulders. It's common now, him touching you, and you sink into his hold on you with a sigh.

'Well, I thought you'd appreciate me making dinner for you,' you say sweetly, grabbing his hands, pulling him through into the kitchen, motioning to the table set. 'Also, you mentioned the old recipe your mum used to make for you, so, I thought I'd try my hand at it, see if I'm a good cook or not.'

He lets out a small ‘hm' as he grabs two bowls from out of the cupboards, placing them down on the countertop beside the stove. His hand hand is touching the small of your back as he grabs hold of the wooden spoon you left in the pot, tugging down the black mask covering his nose and mouth.

You watch, holding your breath as you await his reaction.

'Is it terrible?' you quietly as, looking on his face for any form of reaction, yet, he's unmoved. 'We can get something else to eat if it's really terrible,' you offer, pushing down the cuticles on your nails as you keep your eyes on him.

Setting the spoon back into the pot, he exhales. 'Needs a tad bit more salt, sweetheart,' he gently says, 'but considering this is your first time making it, I think you've done a pretty good job, hey?'

You can't stop yourself from smiling at his gentle words, feeling the warmth of his large hand pressing against your back as he reaches beside the stove, grabbing a salt shaker. 'A little more practice and I think I'm going to have my own personal chef,' he comments, adding some more salt into the soup.

Grabbing the spoon, you stir the mixture, scooping up another spoonful, holding it out to him with your hand underneath it, 'how's it now?'

His eyes are on you as he places his mouth against the spoon.

'Much better,' he says with a smile, 'go sit down, I'll do this.'

'Are you sure?' you ask, feeling him move his hand from off of your back. He gives you a short nod.

'Don't want you to burn yourself, go sit down.'

Over dinner, you share brief words, but it is in the silence and the company of him that you find you're most at peace.

There's nothing from either of you, and you take time to eat the soup you have been working on all day. It's okay, a little on the watery side, and you do think that Simon is still definitely a much better cook that you.

He thinks the soup tastes a tad funny, but he doesn't say it to you.

Such thoughts leave the pair of you to sit together, silently thinking about each other, yet not having the heart to disrupt the peaceful silence.

After dinner, you attempt to help him clean up, only, he refuses your help, requesting you stay in the living room.

'Simon you always do stuff for me,' you whine with a huff, 'let me help you- washing a dish isn't gonna kill me, y'know?

'I have a surprise for you and you're not going to get it if you keep going against what I've asked of you,' he warns, 'be a good girl for me, yeah? Go sit down, I'll be right through and you can have your gift.'

Suddenly, it's like your legs don't work anymore.

Knees almost buckling at his words, you gulp hard, managing out a short breath as you nod your head, not saying another word to him as you approach the living room, taking a seat on the plush sofa, sinking into one of the many black cushions.

Pressing your face into your cupped hands, you fight off the urge to scream at the very fact he only has to speak to you and you melt like butter in a pan.

Death would be easier than this.

Eventually, he reappears holding a box in his hands. Setting it down on your lap, you smile at the sight of a white ribbon tied into a bow. It's a charming sight, and you fight off the urge to rest your head on his shoulder as he sits next to you.

'You didn't have to,' you whisper.

'Well, you don't have many dresses, sweetheart,' he comments, 'my mum would have my head if she found out you only had two dresses,' he said with a short chuckle, his eyes narrowing as he sighs, 'I saw it the other day, been trying think of a good time to give it to you.'

Carefully, you untie the ribbon, pulling the top of the box off, setting it aside.

Peering up at you is a white cotton frock. Small flowers stitched into the open neck of the dress.

Pulling it out, you hold it out in front of you, letting out a squeal as you see the fabric touching all the way to the ground.

You jump into his lap, pressing a firm kiss onto his cheek.

'I love it!' you exclaim, holding the dress to your chest, before quickly pushing yourself off of him, shrugging off the sleeves of the green frock you've had since arriving in the village. 'I don't even wanna wait to try it,' you say brightly.

He watches amused as the fabric falls from off of your body, pooling around your feet. You're unapologetic of your appearance, tits on full show without a single care in the world.

Pulling the white dress over your head, you wiggle your hips as it hugs your waist, covering your legs.

He watches you, his hands on his thighs as you clumsily spin around in a circle, your skirt raising as you do so. 'What do you think?' you ask, 'does it look nice?'

He exhales deeply.

'Was made for you, sweetheart,' he replies with a bright grin on his face, 'gimme another spin.'

Your cheeks flush red, though you comply, your heart swelling at the request.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

In the midst of the night is where you roam free, walking through the streets of the village, treading down to the shore all to sit by the water. You watch as the waves roll in with a joyous glint in your eye, knowing home is right at your fingertips.

But oddly, you find home is also on land in the form of your sister and the tall man with a strange mask.

The very thought of him makes you feel nauseous, the thought of him washing all your sentence just as the waves do the shore.

Dinner tonight was almost too much for you to handle, to have someone so close to you, to feel his hand on your back and to hear the humans terms of affection leave his mouth with the intent of the meeting your ears... everything.

You blame the dress you're wearing too.

You feel like you're betraying the words of your dear mother.

She has warned you time and time again of the dangers of the human folk, and here you are, wearing their legs, missing your tail and your vibrant scales, yet, prepared to throw it all away all to hear him utter your name and call you sweetheart just one more time.

All that for a human who doesn't even know the truth of who you are.

'I thought you were here,' you hear a voice call from behind you, almost submerged in the crashing waves.

Turning your head, you see Simon approaching you, his boots leaving prints in the sand.

Stopping beside you, you turn your head as he sits beside you. 'Why 'ave you come all the way out here at this time?'

'Needed some fresh air,' you mumble, resting your chin against your knees, hugging your legs.

'You'll find her again,' he says.

Your blood runs cold.

'Sure that siren saved her just as she saved you, yeah? You'll be with her again some day soon, and who knows, maybe she's become one of them herself.'

'She'd like that,' you whisper, looking at the tide.

I'd like that too.

'Until you know where she is or receive a letter from home, you're stuck with me,' he says, 'sorry.'

You laugh.

'You've been the thing to keep me sane through all this, Si',' you reassure, 'without you I would've lost my mind. I need you, and what you've done for me means more than anything any else has ever done for me.'

'Thank you,' he speaks with his chest, you can hear the smile on his face as he speaks. 'I've enjoyed the company, it's nice to have someone to come home to, makes a change from the constant silence, gets me down sometimes.'

You will die before he is ever alone again, you're convinced.

Letting go of your legs, you pull away from the shore, moving towards him.

The light of the moon bouncing off of the water illuminates his features deliciously and you can't help but think of how he would look beneath the water where the pair of you could live out your days together.

Placing his hand on your knee, you rest your head against his firm shoulder, letting out a small breath as you look out onto the sea.

'Do you want to go back home to your village?' he asks.

'I don't have attachments to places, only people,' you respond, 'doesn't matter where I am as long as I have the people I care about with me- and if they wish to go somewhere else, then I'll will let them to do so.'

'So, when your sister finds you, you're gonna go back home?' he quietly asks, looking at the calm water.

'I don't know,' you say, 'so used to having you with me, and she's found her love now, she doesn't need me anymore. If she even is still alive that is.'

Leaning into the narrative is bruising, and in his silence you sit and think about whether or not you would return to the sea once you finally know that Serelia is safe.

These are the people who have hurt her, the man beside you is keeping her from you, yet, there you are in his arms, seeking comfort in the idea of living out the rest of your life at his side.

Really, you should want to put the entirety of the village under water.

'I want you to stay,' he quietly confesses, 'too used to y' now,' don't think I could go back to normal if you left.'

The feeling of nausea hits you again.

'I wouldn't know what to do with myself,' you say, feeling his grip on your knee tighten.

He holds his breath and you turn to look at him. Half lidded eyes stare back at you, and you find your hand reaching out to slip beneath the mask of the skull on his face, hooking your fingers beneath the fabric of the mask.

'Can I?'

He looks at you, though says nothing.

As you pull your hand away from his face, he pulls the hood down off of his head, undoing the tie around the skull mask on his face, allowing it to fall onto his lap.

Pulling the mask down, allowing it to pool around his neck, he looks you in the eyes. You stare back, settling your hand against his cheek. As you listen to the calmness of the water and under the watching eyes of the moon, you have little issue in leaning in closer.

His hand finds the back of your head as your lips ghost each others and you can feel hit hot breath fanning against your mouth.

'Am I gonna regret this?' you asks.

'You might,' he replies, 'but I won't judge you for it if y' do.'

Your breaths mingle as your lips finally meet, a soft and hesitant connection which sends shivers down your spine. Its delicate, the feeling of his mouth against yours as he holds you as though you're seconds away from turning to ash, leaving him forever.

And while your lips were against his, the thought of doing such doesn't cross your mind.

Not even once.

Upon returning to his house, you walk past the couch you have been lying on, his hand on the small of your back pulling you past, guiding you up the stairs to his bedroom.

Nothing like what you have read happens, instead, he helps you out of your dress, leaving you in your panties. You ask for nothing from him as you climb into his bed as he undresses.

It's intimate, the feeling of his hot flesh against yours setting a light afire in your stomach as you curl into his side, just as you curled into your cove hidden within the depths of the sea.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Days progress and your search for Serelia quells as you keep an open ear on the talks of the city folk.

You could have ended all of this a lot sooner with a song, louring all of them into the water to give you an ample opportunity, but you haven't.

Some other time you would have, though, you've heard your voice while humming a song as you clean your flesh in the mornings, and it's devoid of the deepness to travel as far as it did while sitting upon the rocks on the sea.

She is still alive and well wherever she is, and you're quite sure she has been moved around quite a bit as a safety precaution, and with Price's willingness to keep her from the wrath of the village folk, you know that at least some of the men in the village are good.

The more days roll on, the softer the touches from Simon grow, and as you're sitting in the village library again, holding a book in your lap, your fingers trace over the words written, leaving your words caught in your throat.

Reading has been the one thing to keep you from the curse of whatever has happened to you, and you find the stories written by humans to be quite amusing.

Perilous speculation at it's finest! Your favourite.

Though, you find it's difficult to breathe as you progress further and further through the books in the library until you were greeted with one covered in dust.

The lady didn't see you pull it off of the shelf when you did, and as the sky grows orange before eventually fading to darkness, you're unaware of the change in workers as you press your thighs together, hot breath fanning against the pages of the book.

Only, it's not the story that has you blushing.

Rather, your own thoughts as you replace the characters in your head, seeing the same set of eyes that have been greeting you for the past week while waking up.

It's wrong and it's dirty, but you can't help but think of him.

Perhaps this is simply how humans show affection, and it's not like you haven't been close to doing it; your bare breasts have been pushed against his chest when the pair of you wake in the dawn, and neither of you have moved an inch during the closeness, relishing in the closeness.

'I've got work, love.'

'I don't care, too comfy for you to leave me.'

Your mouth grows dry as you contemplate whether or not he has thought of you in a similar manner, if the thoughts carry onwards to his mind from your own, or if he sees you in a different manner.

A voice calls out your name, the flame of the candle on the table beside you causing you to jump, and as you look up, you're quick to slam the book shut, clearing your throat as you tightly smile at the man standing in front of you.

'Scared me,' he says to you, 'I thought you were home.'

'I got bored,' you shakily say, gripping the book in your hand tightly, holding it as you push your chair in, 'I got caught up reading.'

Even though you try to keep the book out of his view, you find he doesn't care about the stupid collection of pages, his eyes dragging down your body as though they're scanning for any source of possible harm.

'I'm fine, Si',' you whisper.

He nods shortly, 'c'mon, it's late and you need to eat,' he says, stepping to the side, allowing you past.

Keeping hold of the book, you walk along side the man and out of the library.

'You didn't have to drag me out, y'know?' you ask, walking alongside him.

His eyes fall on you, you know it without even looking at him, your eyes scanning over the words in the book, 'could've left me in the library to live with the books, let the pots of colours ink stain my skin and cover me up. Wouldn't have bothered you every again.'

The book is ripped from your hands, slamming shut as the man standing beside you takes it off of you.

'Strange woman,' he remarks, keeping the book in his right hand as you proceed to walk through the town.

Your frustration is obvious but he clearly doesn't care, you see the way his face settles beneath the mask.

'Strange man,' you remark, 'walking around the village with a skull mask on, especially in the dark.'

He only grunts in response to your words, pulling your book in front of him, looking at the title with a raised brow. 'Saccharine?'

He looks at you with a look telling that he knows what's beyond the pages, the possibility of such making your cheeks flare red as he flicks through the pages.

'What's it about?'

'Uhm,' you look at him with weary eyes, 'it's an... adventure.'

He nods his head.

'An adventure,' he says, eyes scrolling down the page he lands on, reading aloud, ''use that pretty mouth of yours for me, sweetheart, tell me what y' want,' he grunts, watching her squirm below him.''

Your face is bright red.

'Something fuckin' adventure that is, huh?' he barks out a laugh, as you elbow him in the side, snatching the book out of his hands. 'You dirty thing reading that out in public,' he mocks, your throat growing dry as you look at him.

'Shut up,' you grumble, slamming the book shut.

His laughter doesn't cease as you head towards his home, 'maybe I should have left you in the library by yourself.'

You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, longing for the cold ocean to reach right into the village and pluck you right from his side, placing you right back into the ocean.

Grabbing his key from out of his pocket, he heads up the steps to his house. You don't miss the glance he gives you.

'Who says I can't sort it out here?' you ask.

The keys fall from out of his hand.

Reaching down, you snag them before he can even muster the strength to breathe after the comment you've just made.

'You'd have an audience,' he says, grabbing your waist as you put his key into the door, turning it.

'I don't care,' you whisper, placing your hand against his cheek, 'especially if it's you.'

You don't quite process what happens until his lips are pressed against yours, the pair of you clumsily stumbling into his house, a giggle escaping you as he keeps you pressed against him.

The next couple of minutes are lost to clumsy steps, giggles and kisses as the pair of you waste no time rushing towards his bedroom.

Somewhere along the line, your dress is discarded, as is his shirt, all for it to be put on you as you sit in his lap clumsily doing up the buttons as the cuffs fall past your hands.

It's an alien feeling, the feeling on someone's lips against yours despite all the chaste kisses you have shared during sleepy mornings, and as he grabs you with greedy hands, you feel yourself melting into his hold, pressing your chest against his as you stifle out a short sound in delight.

You're unsure what exactly the sound was as it's muffled by your lips pressing against one another's, your hands clutching at his shoulders as his hand holds the small of your waist.

You feel the little muscle in your chest flutter as he tilts your head slightly with his other hand, deepening the kiss.

Keeping your eyes close, you feel as though you are one with the tide of the ocean, your limbs become that of liquid, flowing with whatever he wills as you fall apart in his arms.

Your firm grasp against his shoulders melts away as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck, your chest growing tighter as it grows harder to find gasps to take a breath from the kiss.

Placing another kiss against your plush lips, he pulls away, placing his hand against your cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone, letting out a gentle sigh as he looks at you.

Such gentleness is unheard of, no man should be so kind, yet, here he is, holding you as though you're the most fragile seashell on the seashore, intending to hold you close to keep you as a memory.

There's an odd heat flooding your stomach when he pulls away, a pulsing in the area you're somewhat familiar with. It's a dull ache, a bruising urge and you began to squirm in his lap in an attempt to chase the feeling away.

The feeling of his pants against you brings a satisfying wave over your body, willing to continue squirming in his lap in the hopes to find some form of quick fix. A breathy whimper escapes you as you continue to grind hopelessly in his lap, chasing after the release you so crave.

Only, your his are grabbed by his hands, as he holds you in place, grunting.

'Hurts,' you grumble, your hands falling to grab his wrists in an attempt to pull them away. Yet, his hold on you persists, keeping you firmly in place.

'Please,' it escapes your lips before you even understand what it is that you're begging for, though there's something that you can only describe as longing to extinguish the fiery blaze in the pit of your stomach.

You continue to fight against his hold on your hips, you lips pressing together in an unhappy manner.

There's a glint you spy as desire in his eyes, though, much to your displeasure, he keeps himself from acting on whatever that particular desire is, leaving you teary eyed in his lap.

'Sweetheart,' Simon breathes, shaking his head, 'hey, hey, it's alright, what are you getting teary eyed f'r? Haven't hurt you, have I?' he asks as your try to blink back the tears forming in your eyes. You're frustrated, unable to tell him what exactly you want because, truthfully, you've only read about such in the books in the library during the times he was busy with work.

All of it is new, and you wish for the blessing of experience you wash over you as you look at him with a lingering frustration.

'No,' you say, 'it's not that, it's that I...' you're unsure what to say, so, you let go of his wrist, lifting your hips as you look him in the eyes, placing a hand against your core.

He looks at you with a crooked smile when he finally catches onto what exactly it is, and all you can muster, in pathetic whisper is, 'need you.'

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you're relieved when one of his hands is pulled from off of your hip as he gently moves his hand against you, cupping your cunt, pressing his thumb up in a particular spot.

You let out a whimper at the strange, yet welcome sensation, noting how his hand is far better than your own.

There should be something shameful about this, only you push into his hold, hoping he returns your enthusiasm.

It's in his arms you feel the most safe you have ever felt, even the tide of the ocean cannot compare to him in this moment as he pulls you loser, looking upon you with moons for eyes, conveying the idea that, maybe, he does think you're the prettiest thing he has ever set his eyes on.

Your back is pressed against the bed, the absence of his touch like a dagger through your heart. He looms over you, arms either side of your head. The lack of light, the flickering flame of the candle and the beams of light from moon shooting through the window render you speechless as you look at him.

'My pretty girl,' he utters underneath his breath, his hand brushing under the cotton shirt, moving further up your skin. Goosebumps form on your flesh as he does so, cheeks red the longer he keeps his eyes on you. 'Made with wind an' sea, you are,' he says, brushing his hand down your stomach, resting it against your pubic bone as he looks you. 'Tell me what you want, sweetheart.'

Opening your legs for him, you muster up a small whimper, looking him in the eyes, 'want you to touch me,' you quietly say, 'please, Si', need you to make me feel better,' you beg, feeling as though you're seconds away from collapsing.

A breath escapes you as he pushes your panties to the side, trailing his fingers up and down your folds with a groan.

There's a distinctive wet noise as he does so, spreading your cunt open with two fingers. Looking down between the valley between your breasts, you swallow hard at the sight of him touching you, jolting when his fingers brush against your clit.

It's unlike anything you've ever experienced.

Continuing in a fluid motion, your back arches as pretty moans escape your mouth, writhing beneath him. The heat in your stomach only grows as he does so.

'That's it, sweetheart,' he utters, sliding his fingers downwards, pressing one digit against your hole. 'Gonna be good for me an' take my fingers?' he asks, to which you eagerly nod your head.

'Y- Yes, please,' you respond, your back arching against the bed as he pushes a finger into you.

An odd stinging sensation causes a tear to slip past your eye as you fist the sheets below you, letting out a small sob. He pauses, you catch the orange light from the candle in his eyes as his mouth falls.

Then, you begin to feel him pull away.

'No,' you quickly exclaim, 'no, no, don't pull away, it's just...' you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, 'I've never done this before.'

He looks at you with wild eyes as he expression softens. Leaning forward, he places his lips against your and you cup his face with both of your hands, your mouth falling open as he begins to thrust his finger in and out of you.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he sighs, 'I didn't know, love,' he confesses under his breath, 'I shouldn't have made assumptions—'

'It's not your fault, Si', you didn't know,' you reassures, 'but I don't want you to stop,' you say, toes curling as his finger presses against a spot which almost has you seeing colour.

The air in the room is hot, only growing when you see a crooked smirk on his face as a crude squelch sounds.

You feel another finger against you.

'Gonna make sure your pretty cunt is taken care of,' he says, 'won't want anyone else after you've had me,' he utters, pushing another finger into you.

It burns for a moment, the stretch aching, yet working to contribute to the cord tightening in your stomach.

You're unsure as to what to expect as a delicious heat envelopes yous body, clumsy hands letting go of his face, moving to his shoulders. More tears slip down your cheeks, a loud moan escaping you as both his finger brush against a spot which has you falling apart in his hold.

You expect him to relent, though, he positions his fingers to proceed to hit that spot. By now you're a babbling mess under him, all the while he's grinning at the pretty mess you're becoming, soaking his fingers as you edge closer and closer to the edge.

You're not going to last much longer, he knows such as you clench around his fingers, his cock hardening at the very thought of having that pretty pussy around him.

There's a panic in your eyes as you edge closer to the edge, so he presses a chaste kiss against your lips, 'you're okay, princess,' you gently says, let go, cum for me, cum around my fingers, let me see how pretty you look,' he says, cautious not to make a demand as he continues to work his fingers into you, stretching you out.

Your chest heaves as you screw your eyes shut, your muscles tensing as you find yourself bracing for the coil in your stomach to snap.

It's odd to be scared of something that is making you feel so good, and you relax realising you're in his arms.

Your thighs begin to tremble as you let out small moans, drool trailing down your chin as you press your head back into his pillow, the heat in your stomach dispersing, crashing down into a pleasurable wave which has you almost sobbing.

Your hole clenches around Simon's finger, your entire body turning stiff as you stifle out a crude gasp, your orgasm washing over you. You watches as you completely fall apart, your juices flooding his fingers as you cum. 'That's it, you're okay,' he breathes, 'I got you, you're okay,' he reassures, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm.

Your raging breath steadily quells as he pulls his fingers out of you, sitting back on his thighs. Your hair is sticking your back as sweat soaks into the shirt you're working.

Whimpering, you watch as he presses the two digits he used to fuck you between his mouth, cleaning the mess you made of his hands with his tongue, letting out a short moan as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth, 'as sweet as honey,' he remarks, taking a moment to admire your glistening cunt.

Instinctively, you close your legs, all for him to tut, placing his hands on your knees, pulling them open again.

'Prettiest cunt I've ever seen sweetheart,' he say, 'don't try and keep it from me, yeah? You're not gonna be cumming around anyone else's cock aside from mine; gonna ruing you, shape that pretty hole for my cock and my cock only,' he gruffly speaks.

You hear the shift of fabric.

Pulling his underwear off, he tosses it somewhere into the room, sifting upwards, a crude wet slap filling the room as he slaps his cock against your clit.

You let out a small yelp as the sensation, your cunt still marked with sensitivity from your orgasm. Though, as you feel the blunt head of his leaking cock between your folds, you find the heat returns with a vengeance, leaving your mouth dry as he presses himself against your hole.

'It's gonna hurt for a second,' he warns, grabbing your hip with his hand, 'just keep breathing for me, let that pretty pussy stretch around me- I'll give y' all the time you need, just tell me,' he utters.

His tone is much darker than any you've ever heard, and as he begins to push himself into you, your mouth closes as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip so hard that you're quite sure you're going to draw blood.

A filthy moan escapes your lovers lips as he pushes into, the heat around his cock making it hard to keep a clear mind as the longing to fuck you until you're sobbing possesses him.

It won't take much, he knows that, counting on the fact that he's not even half way in and tears are already pouring down your cheeks.

Gripping your hips, he eases himself in to the hilt, moaning as you clench around his cock.

'Good fuckin' girl,' he curses, his nails digging into your skin as you wince. Never have you felt so full, feeling his cock pulsing in your core as you squirm beneath him.

Without even moving, you're sure he's pressing against that spot that brought you to your release just moments prior, you stomach twisting.

I'm not going to last.

Your legs merely wrap around his waist as he looks to you, and with a trembling mouth, you nod your head, 'y- you can move,' you say with a small nod, hissing as he pulls out, only to thrust back in.

Your skin is hot as sweat drips down your silky flesh, pushing downwards to meet his thrusts as he picks up the pace. The sound of you skin slapping together is vulgar, though neither of you care as you burble out weak 'ahs' under your breath as he drives his cock into you. Simon isn't quiet either, vocal grunts through gritted teeth as his bruising grip on you maintains a steady pace.

'Fuuuckkk,' he moans, grabbing the bottom of his shirt, ripping it open. You offer him as startled look as he drags his blunt nails up your stomach, grabbing your tits, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 'Prettiest fuckin' girl to ever walk the land,' he claims, 'made for me and my cock, and it's all mine, isn't it?'

'A- All yours,' you confirm, unable to keep a sane mind about you as he's fucking you dumb.

All your mind is sticking to is the thickness off his cock as it's hitting all the right spots. You're sure you're drooling from the sensation, your eyes falling back into your head as you babble out nonsense.

'No one else's,' you manage to get out before you're completely at his disposal, the feel of your next orgasm creeping up on you.

'You gonna cum for me again, princess?' Simon asks, greedily sucking in air as he looks at you, feeling your cunt clenching around him. He himself is edging closer to the edge, the tightness of you around his thick cock simply being too much to bear.

'Yes, 'm so close... so fucking close, please, please let me cum,' you dumbly beg, not able to keep the words from flowing past your lips.

'Go on, sweetheart, cum around my cock, make it yours,' he demands, his thrust growing much more sporadic as he chases after his own release.

A moan escapes your lips as you arch you back off of the bed, your entire body spasming as you allow yourself to fall into the pleasure of your orgasm as the cord in your stomach snaps, forcing a gasp out of you.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a brittle sob, tightening around his cock as you cum. The sound of your skin connecting is wet as Simon fucks you through your orgasm, his curses and grunts filling your ears.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, that's right sweetheart,' he moans, 'gonna make you mine, fill you up with my cum, no one else is having you, you're mine,' he grunts out, pressing into your, your cunt against his pubic bone as his hands tremble.

He lets out a moan as he fills you up.

It's a filthy feeling, but you love it terribly, your hole twitching as you feel his pulsing cock empty his load inside of you.

A short breath escapes him, and you moan feeling him push deeper inside of you, thrusting and out of you to ensure you're not missing a drop of it.

Remaining inside of you, he moves to lay beside you, keeping bodies pressed against you, the smell of sex and sweat in the clammy air of the room, but he doesn't even think of pulling out, let alone pulling away. Instead he settles with his cock inside out you, pressing another kiss against you.

Your eyes feel heavy, your entire body sluggish as you press your face into the crook of his neck.

'Good girl,' he utters against your skin.

You lay together for a short while before he eventually pulls his softening cock from out of you, you whimpering from oversensitivity as he does so. Your inner thighs are wet, and as your hole clenches around nothing, you're face grows red as you feel his cum dripping out of you.

He leaves you alone for a short while and you lay, your body blanketed in the moonlight. Beyond the window in his room, you spy the ocean in the distances, seeing the rolling waves, your throat tightening are your eyes move around the room, spying his side of the bed, then lifting back to the water.

You can't possibly stay here forever? Can you?

You have people, you have your sister still to find, getting no closer to having Simon confess to you where she is being kept.

When you uncover it eventually, what are you going to do? Free her and stay here? Will the even want you back when you return with the marks of a human all over you?

Your eyes water when he comes back into the room with a cup of water and a damp cloth in his hands, approaching you.

He sees the furrow of your brow and the discontent on your face, taking a seat beside you, pressing his hand against your face.

'I haven't hurt you have—'

'No, no,' you quietly state, sniffling, 'just...' you look at him, holding his wrist. 'I like you,' you whisper, his eyes growing wide at your confession, 'I- I know it's soon but—'

'I like you too, sweetheart,' he reassures, setting the cup of water down on the nightstand.

You rejoice in the outcome of your diversion, noting it works well as he looks at you with all the adoration the human heart can muster. 'Let's get you cleaned up, yeah? Can't leave you like this,' he utters, to which you nod in appreciation.

The night is sleepless for the most part as you're in his arms. It's difficult to confess to yourself, but you're aware of the lies you have told and of the possible consequences to come from it.

Even if he isn't fearful of what you are, there's still the fact that the betrayal will be too great as, essentially, everything you have together is built on a lie, and you're only encouraging it through playing the role of human.

A part of you wishes to wake him from his current sleeping state and tell him, yet, you cower in the thought of conflict destroying the night the pair of you have shared.

So, you tell yourself that you'll tell him tomorrow instead before falling into the heat of his body, closing your eyes.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

In the morning you wake with a dull ache between your thighs, looking to the side of your bed.

Simon isn't there and you sit up quickly, eyes scanning around the room, a panicked breath squeezing out of your lung as you search for him.

Has he left for work already?

You feel an odd sense of betrayal well in your breast as you shuffle from under the sheets, stopping in your tracks when you hear the creak of the staircase leading into his room. His head appears first and you quickly fall back onto the bed, eying him.

'I thought you left for work,' you confess as he climbs the final step. He shakes his head, looking out of the window to the early morning sun. It covers his frame in a delicious light and you take a moment to admire him. How his white shirt settles against his chest, the mask on his face right back where it usually it.

It's a shame though; you want to see his blond hair in the light of the sun.

'I'm not that cruel, sweetheart,' he reassures, 'want you to come with me today; I'm sitting in the Station by myself while the other three do whatever, want some company with me,' he says, we'll stop by the library and bakery before we go there, I'll get you that pastry you like,' he offers, fixing the buckle of his belt, 'what do you think?'

Propping your head up with your hand, you look as hm with rosy cheeks and a bright grin on your face. 'Make me a cup of tea when we're in the station too?' you ask.

'If I must,' he says, laughing, moving towards one of the drawers in his bedroom, pulling it open.

Grabbing a dress and panties, walking up to you. Shifting in the bed, you push the sheets back, standing up, taking the panties from his hands.

Stepping into them, you look up to see him holding your dress, the skirt bunched up. 'Hold your arms up,' he instructs, to which you giggle at, but comply, holding your arms up.

Placing the fabric of the dress over your head, you slip your arms inside of the sleeves, as he kneels down in front of you, pushing his mask up slightly so he can press kisses onto your stomach as he lowers the skirt of the dress further and further down.

More laughter spills past you as you watch him with do so. The skirt reaches your ankles and he stands up, grasping your waist. 'Happy I got this dress for you,' he comments.

You quirk an eyebrow.

'I thought you said it was plain.'

'Nothing's plain when you're wearing it, sweetheart,' he responds, pressing a kiss onto your lips. You roll your eyes at his sappiness despite melting into his hold.

'You're an idiot,' you say.

'And you're slow,' he retorts, letting go of your waist, 'finish up getting ready and meet me downstairs, don't take too long; don't wanna be stuck in a queue at the bakery.'

'You're the reason—'

'Don't wanna hear it, princess,' he calls as he walks down the the stairs, leaving you alone in his bedroom, crossing your arms over yourself as you watch him disappear.

＊*•̩̩͙✩��̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He cannot take his eyes off of you as you sit in the station, stray crumbs of the pastry around your mouth as you babble on about one of the books you found in the library.

It never occurred to him until now that it's very much possible to be a love drunk fool, and he feels himself grinning under his mask as you speak with such passion, it's making him lightheaded. He has little understanding of what you're talking about, but that doesn't matter.

He sits and listens to you, only stopping you when he reaches out his hand, brushing away the clumsy flakes of pastry from around your mouth. You stare at him, eyes panning down to your skirt as you blush at the sight of golden flecks on the white fabric.

Brushing your hands over your covered thighs, you brush them away, looking back at him. Opening your mouth, you go to speak, all for your moment to come crashing down as Kyle barges into the Station.

Taking one look at the pair of you, he lets out a comically loud wretch, 'save it for the bedroom, please,' he breathes, closing the door behind him.

'What are you doin' back?' Simon asks, checking your face for any more crumbs, letting a small grunt when he's satisfied there are none, pulling his hand away from you. 'Thought you were going to be out all day.'

'I've been looking for Rhys,' he says, 'he's supposed to be keeping an eye on her and I haven't seen her, when I went to the cabin the door was locked, all the curtains were drawn too,' he explains, rubbing his head.

Your ears perk up with the mention of a cabin, glancing at Simon before back at Gaz.

She's in a cabin somewhere nearby and she's still alive.

Your heart settles with the thought.

'He couldn't have gone far,' Simon says, 'might've slept in or something- if something was wrong, he wouldn't disappear on us.'

'You're right,' Kyle says, closing the door behind him, 'he's a good kid, shouldn't be thinking badly of him in the first place, just difficult not to worry when he's usually there at the crack of dawn, you know?'

'Are people still demanding a trial?' you ask.

'Yeah,' Kyle responds, approaching the fireplace to the right of the bed you're sitting on, pulling the lid off of the kettle. Fortunately, Simon replenished it after making you both a mug of tea. 'We're trying to push it back; she's a nice girl from what I can tell, doesn't speak much though- to me at least,' he explains.

'Why don't you just let her go?'

'Letters from the Lords telling us we can't act until he's back home,' he says, 'unfortunately, we work for him. If it was up to me, she'd be back in the water; I think everything people are saying about her is nothing more than fairytales.'

You smile at his words; he's right, in terms of her, they are all fairytales.

If he's looking for the sirens from fairytales, he's already eyeing her as he talks to you.

'Do you want another cup of tea?' Kyle asks, looking at the pair of you. Simon shakes his head but you nod, though, before you can reach for your mug, it's taken from out of your reach as Simon holds it out for Kyle.

You give him a short look which he returns after handing your cup to to Kyle who busies himself with minding his business.

'You my servant now?' you ask.

'Can be if you want me to be,' he answers.

You roll your eyes, leaning your back against the wall, dusting the remnants of your breakfast off of your hands.

'You're sweet talk is making me sick,' Kyle calls, approaching you, carefully handing you your mug of tea, 'need some lessons in it, Simon,' he adds.

'Fuck off,' barks the man.

'I've got nothing to do so you're not getting rid of me for a while,' he says, 'I'm gonna stay here for a while before heading back up to the cabin, haven't had a moment to relax this morning,' he scoffs, 'could do with a moment of rest.'

Sitting forward, you move your legs off of the bed, allowing Kyle to take a seat beside you, sipping from your mug, 'there's always something to be doing,' he begins to complain, 'never a fuckin' quiet moment in this—'

The door to the station bursts open, slamming against the wall opposite.

'She's dead!'

The cup in your hand drops as you jolt from the sudden noise, the hot liquid merely missing your thighs as you shift out of the way, hearing the tea cup shattering as it meet with the stone floor.

You curse under your breath, looking at the mess you have made as you go to drop to the ground to clean it up, all for Kyle to shake it head while Simon stands up to address the man at the door.

'It's fine love,' reassures the man sweetly, 'you'll end up cuttin' your fingers, I'll clean it up,' he says, looking down at the shattered tea cup on the ground.

Frankly, you appreciate his kindness as you raise to your feet, looking around Simon's bulky frame to the man who scared you.

He's shaking as he speaks looking at Simon, his eyes blown wide, reflective of the surface of the moon as he tugs at his fingers while attempting to express the horrors of which he has witnessed.

'I left for the night, an' when I returned she was dead,' he says, 'bloody and beaten, whoever it was took all her scales, left them around the room like it's some sort of fuckin' confetti.'

Scales.

You're sure you hear Kyle yell, but you're unsure what he actually says.

There's anger in the young man's eyes, genuine emotion as he details every single gruesome detail of the scene.

Serelia.

The siren.

'W- Where?' you manage to get out, not caring if Simon is about to say something in response. 'Where is she?' you roughly demand.

The young man standing in front of you looks at you with wide eyes as you move in front of Simon.

Your lover doesn't say anything.

'Tell me!' you demand, grabbing his shirt.

'T- The cabin just beyond the Lords house,' he stutters.

Without much thought, you're rushing out of the station without any hesitation, rushing through the streets as your heart rages in your chest.

Your mind is racing with his confession, shoving past and barging shoulders with everyone as you push through the busy town square, staggering up the steps towards the direction of the Lords house.

You're aware of the man behind you; Simon never really did let you out of his sights, after all.

Everything seems so much smaller in your eyes as you stumble further and further up, tears flowing freely down your cheeks.

Perhaps it's some form of sick joke- she's okay, she's just playing dead; she's a smart girl, even having tricked you a few times.

She's okay- she's got to be okay.

You're in a fit of hysterics as you pull the door open to the small, reserved cabin.

There are footsteps behind you, a distant call for your name, only, when you pull the door open, you seek the sister you had lost that night on the shore. Still bleeding as she was when she had been taken despite her pleads for freedom, only, she isn't moving.

She lays on the wooden ground of the room, her hand open in your direction, as stray tear slipping down her face as her open, bruised eyes stare into nothingness.

You stand at the door, your bottom lip trembling as you scream out, 'SERELIA.'

Rushing up to her side, you collapse onto your knees, trembling hands hovering over her swollen body, blood seeping into your white frock as you simply sit and stare in horror.

Placing your hand against her cheek, you flinch at the icy feeling of her skin, trailing the tips of your fingers over her soft flesh. Stray scales sit on the ground from around you, plucked like petals from a daisy.

Her body is destroyed, pretty face so swollen, you hardly know who you're looking at.

Nausea hits you, though you fight against the urge to vomit up your breakfast, lunging forward, slipping your hand beneath the bleeding body of your sister, resting your forehead against her shoulder as you pull her close, her body falling over your lap as you sob, brushing your hair through her dirty ginger locks as your body shakes against her still one.

This all feels like a bad dream that you wish to wake from, only, you cannot.

'I- I'm sorry, my urchin,' you manage to get out between spouts of hyperventilation and nausea, your nails digging into her flesh as your arm settles in her blood.

'My beauty, they have destroyed you,' you mumble under your breath, unmoved by the stench in room as your chest swells.

Pulling your head off of the corpses shoulder, you press your hand firmly against her rotten cheek, observing the countless amount of cuts.

You feel the room spinning as you observe the true brutality of mankind, how they are so careless towards the rest of natures creations and you feel like a fool.

A fury burns within you, your tongue ceasing as two hands are placed on your shoulders, attempting to move you away from Serelia. Looking up over your shoulders, you spy the bewildered eyes of your lover.

'Let go of me, Simon,' you demand, turning your head back to the woman on the ground.

His hands stay firmly on your shoulders.

You wish for him to relent, but that's not in his nature. No, he wishes to keep you from all danger, and with the mess you have made of yourself and the crime scene, somewhere deep inside, you understand that you cannot have the very thing you desire.

You're pulled to your feet, crying as you kick and scream in his arms, the bloody skirt of your dress sticking to your legs as you fight against him.

'Let me go!' you cry, turning in his hold, bringing your hands to his chest, weakly hitting him as though it is he who caused the bloody slaughter. 'Let me go,' you hiccup as you're pulled out the door, away from the sight that is sure to haunt you for the rest of your life.

Pushing your hands against his chest, you shove him with all you might, though he does not move.

Placing you against a tree, he gently guides you to the ground as your legs give, kneeling on the ground before you as you chase after your breath, your legs laid out in front of you, your hands resting flat against your thighs.

Looking up towards the sky, you spy the moon staring down upon you despite the morning sky, proceeding to cry as you recall the lights on the shore the night Serelia was taken.

Your throat burns with the desire to scream and scream until you have torn the very vocal cords nature gifted to you, seeing no use in them as you come to realise that you will never call her name and get a response ever again.

'You were never on our side,' you sniffle harshly, hot tears flowing free as Simon simply stares at you. 'I see their torches in the light of your stars. You make us the villains, fool us into doing your dirty work, and then leave us stranded when you want no more to do with us,' you seethe, turning your head to the side as you continue to sob.

Simon's hand presses against your flushed face, pushing your head up from off of your shoulder, 'love, you need to calm down,' he utters gently. 'You're gonna make yourself sick if you keep on like this,' he warns.

He means well, you love him enough to acknowledge that in the midst of your fury.

Yet, your punishment leaves you weak and weary, missing the water you grew up in, missing life prior to that night.

'I already am sick,' you retort in a broken tone, 'infected with the parasite that makes me you, that separates me from her,' you cry, 'no longer a siren, only human.'

You don't care what happens, and, if you do, your emotions keep you from logic.

'W- What?' the man beside you chokes out.

You don't miss the way his hold on your face tightens, yet, you do not flinch, permitting his harsh hold as you look him in the eyes, swallowing harshly.

'I'm not a human,' you whisper, 'I don't know what I am anymore... I never had a sister, I was never in a wreckage, I was looking for her, my Urchin,' you admit, turning your head in the direction of the cabin. 'And now she's gone.'

Your sobs fill the void of silence, only, nothing fills the void of warmth against your face as he pulls his hand away from your face. Looking at him, your bottom lip wobbles.

Every lesson your mother has ever taught you is urging you to hate him, telling you that it is his fault that there she's lying there alone in a puddle of her own blood, unrecognisable.

However, no matter how much you wish to lunge forward and claw his eyes from out of his head, you find heart and mind conflict easily.

'Please say something,' you beg, caving to the gaping hole in your chest, longing for the return of his touch for, what is left after him? An outcast? Nowhere to return, even the ocean doesn't want you, and your bleak reality begins to settle in as his eyes do not change. 'Please, please talk to me, I- I've already lost her—'

He's unsure how to tread, you see the weariness in his eyes. 'What part of you is real?' he asks, 'or are you just a liar?'

'My love for you is real,' you blurt out, 'I cherish you, all of you for caring for me and for taking care of me when I needed it the most,' you continue, 'but I couldn't tell you, Si'- I- I've been trying to think of a way to tell you the truth and I was gonna do it today- I swear to you.'

'Why?' he lowly asks, 'are you afraid of me?'

'Are you afraid of me?' you question, looking him in the eyes as a stray tear falls past your eye.

He pauses.

'Your people murdered one of my own, Si',' you choke out, a flurry of emotion blowing over you as your face and skin prickle with an insatiable heat. 'We act accordingly, you treat us violently, we react with violence, but she...' your words trail, 'she did nothing to anyone, Simon. Had a voice as sweet as honey, charming, loving to the creatures of the sea, and look at what happened.'

'What's stoppin' you from hurting me?'

His voice and tone are raw as you look at him.

Truthfully, in the midst of your misery, you're unable to see the reason which keeps your fury at bay, though, when you look into his eyes, you understand for a moment long enough to form a response.

'You tried to keep her safe,' you whisper, 'keeping her from everyone, keeping her out of the way. They got to her, you didn't.'

And I can't let myself get to you for something you haven't done.

He exhales, looking towards you with bleary eyes.

Always, the desire to push him away is going to nestle within after the events of today, but nothing stops you from lunging into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck with as you sob.

His large hand presses against your head as he pulls you close, his hold on you almost crushing as you cry into the nape of his neck. If he is hushing you, you can't hear him.

You're in his arms and he's got you.

His hold feels the same as the one you have became accustomed with during your time on land, nothing has changed.

Feeling him tug at his mask, you settle when you feel his lips press against your forehead, and with a small voice he utters, 'I love you,' he says, 'human, siren, sea monster, sea urchin, I don't fuckin' care,' he states firmly, placing another kiss on your forehead.

'I love you too,' you tightly say, feeling the urge to smile at his words, but you don't, simply remaining in his arms.

'I'm sorry, love,' he utters. 'She didn't deserve any of this, neither did you.'

With your face buried into his neck, you nod your head.

'I know.'

You lay in his arms for what seems like an eternity, holding his bloody shirt as he rubs your back.

There's nothing that can be said, you know that.

Both of you do.

A man of few words can hardly be expected to become a flowing fountain of knowledge in the span of an hour.

Anyone else would curse him for not trying to make you feel better, maybe even say he doesn't care about you. But his rough touch turns gentle with you. His boisterous manner is reserved to calmness.

Oddly enough, it's in the most violent man that you find your faith in humanity is kept from drifting off of the cliff, toppling over into the ocean.

Eventually, you feel him shift beside you and you're moved as though your a doll in a child's arms. Looking down at you, he brushes his hand against your face, wiping away the tears that have flooded your face. You place your hands over his much larger ones, looking him in the eyes as you sniffle.

'We can't leave her there like this,' he utters, 'they'll wanna burn her body, 'not gonna let that happen.'

You mouth grows dry.

'We'll bury her up here, there's a clearing near the cliff, overlooking the water so she's not too far from home.'

No words leave your mouth so you simply nod your head in agreement as the pair of you raise from the floor.

Her helps you up and keeps you steady, not daring to let go of you, seemingly fearful that, if you fell, you would shatter and leave him forever.

He does all the work, leaving you to sit and watch as he carefully raps the girl in a sheet, lifting her into his arms with ease.

You standby and watch idly, holding a shovel in one hand and a lantern in the other, unable to look the dismal sight in the eye.

As, you step outside of the cabin, keeping your head bowed as you follow after him, heading towards the burial sight he mentioned.

It's hidden, private, and you stand near the edge of the cliff, looking down into the darkened abyss of water below you as you hear the occasional grunt from behind you as Simon busies himself with digging the gave.

At this moment you're resentful, wishing for some form of blow to the head to send you over the cliff, rejoicing in the short fall before you're able to escape from the consequences of your failure.

Only, you cannot will yourself to go over the cliff on your own accord, knowing if you did, Simon would most likely blame himself- if not follow right after you.

Living in the idea is enough to keep the action at bay, the resounding guilt and regret you imagine you would feel after taking the leap filling you with dread.

So, you turn yourself around and sit next to the woman wrapped in white while Simon makes a grave for her to finally rest her weary head.

It's difficult to say goodbye.

It was difficult when you said goodbye to your mother, a bitter pill to swallow when old age claimed the crazed woman on the seas, though, the guilt stabbing into your heart like a dagger proves to make this send off much worse.

Never did you dream of doing something so horrible, yet, here you are, unable to escape reality.

It's the dead of night by the time the grave is ready, the lantern in your hand flickers as Simon holds the body of Serelia in his arms, lowering her into the grave he constructed using a shovel.

The sheet she's wrapped in is stain red, marked with her blood, and while your chest grows heavy at the sight you find solace hiding in the shadows away from the moonlight.

Kneeling to the ground beside him, you tear the edge of your skirt, placing it onto her body with a shaky sigh.

He looks at you.

'When someone passes, we pull one of own scales and lay it with them to rest so they always have a piece of us with them,' you explain, 'I can't do that for her, but I'm not going to leave her with nothing,' you state.

Grabbing the edge of his shirt, you watch with a sunken smile as he rips a piece of his shirt of, laying it beside the piece of your dress you laid upon her.

'It's an apology,' mumbles the man, 'couldn't be there to keep her from harms way in this life, but she'll have me in the next. She'll have the both of us, yeah?'

'Forever and always.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You return to his home covered in blood.

He helps you wash, rubbing a sponge around your back as you lean forward, chin resting against your knees with void eyes. You say nothing to him, only listening to his gentle requests.

While doing so, he feels a heat growing his stomach. It had been set alight from the very second he heard you screaming and crying, and the longer he focuses, the more he finds his blood boils. Someone in the village knew where she was and they killed her- perhaps even multiple people.

A poor young girl was murdered, and in the process they murdered your spirit.

And now he is scared as he looks at you.

There's nothing to tie you to the land anymore, he understands that as he wraps you in a towel, carrying you up the steps to his bedroom in a woeful silence.

There's nothing to tie you to him and he wishes to paint the town red for the crime committed against you, swearing to himself that he will find the perpetrator.

The next time he's cleaning blood from under his fingernails will be the time he has avenged you.

Until then, however, he's committed to being beside you until you no longer want him there as he looks onto you after helping you get ready for bed, lying on his back beside you.

Nothing is left in you, your soul devoid of anything as your mind wanders to her body wrapped in that white sheet, and as you look to the dress discarded on the floor, you find you're not too far off her fate.

Laying your head upon his head, you listen to his heartbeat to make sure he's alive, fearful that he will leave you before you get the opportunity to leave him first.

'I love you,' you croak.

'I love you too, sweetheart.'

After a while he his breathing calms, soothing and melting as a wave on the beach did.

Your mind has been made up since he placed his shirt beside yours, and as you watched him cover her with dirt, you stood with crossed arms and contemplated for a while. The crashing of the waves over the cliff edge called for you as you stood there.

You cannot stay here.

For the good of yourself and the good of him.

Too much is at risk now, and too much has been lost.

Too many thoughts fill your head, bad thoughts. Bringing him to the water all to sing a song to pull him into it.

You'll watch as he fights for air, trying to break the surface of the water once more, but you will not care, simply watching him fight and fight until all life leaves him and his soul has left you.

Foolish mortal men.

You hear your mothers voice ringing in your ears as you look at his sleeping eyes, then to the blood beneath your nails.

Sinking into the watery depths of a sirens den.

Crawling from beside him, you offer him one final look at you lean over the sleeping man, pressing a kiss onto his temple, watching as his hand curls around the pillow on your side of the bed.

Misery strikes you as you look at the empty spot, something within you urging to you to crawl back into bed beside him, only, you're reminded of the celebrations litter through the town, the festering buzzing of the flies in the cabin, and the swollen face of Serelia.

How is one to move past such when they lack the very emotion of remorse?

And how are you supposed to keep your emotions at bay when you feel an unquenchable urge to bring the village into the water?

Both are impossible to solve, and somethings are better off left broken, for, if you act on your anger, you betray the man you love with all your being.

But, if you act on love, you betray the women in the sea who are most likely worried sick with your disappearance. So, you take hold of the first dress he bought you, pulling it over your head, eyes teary as you look at him sleeping.

You're making the right choice in leaving, you say that to yourself when you place another chaste kiss against his cheek, allowing the thought to follow you as you push the door of his house open, stepping onto the pavement.

It follows you down the twists and turns of the street, leading you from place you have both loved and lost back to the ocean where you have only ever know strength and family.

The land is cruel, harsher than the sea.

Even during a violent storm you find you prefer the sea for the land houses people capable of despicable things, maintaining the ability of hurting you, not only on the outside, but also on the inside. You long for normality, for a sense of belonging again, and while you know you will always have a place in his bed and arms, you have a duty to fill elsewhere, an anger to keep at bay, people to keep safe.

You have to go, and you hope he understands.

A man of few words yet the only man who could ever hold your heart and not shatter it, and as you're walking on the sand, stumbling towards the water, you allow yourself to cry an ugly and loud cry as you fist at the fabric of the dress he gifted you, pulling the skirt to your mouth, pressing your lips against the fabric. Your legs carry as you remain with the skirt bundled in your arms, inhaling the scent of the place you have grown to know as home.

But it's never going to be home again.

The water greets your feet as you allow your arms to drop to your side, walking into the sea.

The waves crash down, soaking the bottom of the pink fabric and you continue to sob as you edge further and further into the water, cupping your face in your hands as you stiffly wade through the waves.

Wiping under your eyes with your fingers, you raise your head in the direction of the sky, seeing the moon sitting above the sea. You keep your eyes trained on the red moon, unmoved by the winking stars in the night sky as you turn your back to her.

Observing the land one last time, you fall backwards into the water, whispering an ode to Serelia under your breath as the ocean swallows you whole.

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

TAGS: (If you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!) @forever-twenty-two-years-old

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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𝒖𝒏𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅

this is the more extended version of my unwanted drabble, thank you to @jessybarnes for some of the ideas. I hope you all enjoy.

summary - steve tricked you before kidnapping you, leaving you locked away in the basement as you begin to mess with his mind.

warning - angst, mentions of killing, mentions of sadness, mentions of being trapped.

the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

“What? You want me to meow or something?”

Steve sat there shocked, staring at you with wonder. It’s as if you had no care and weren’t freaking out like others. He stares into your eyes, seeing nothing there, and his head tilts as he looks at you. “No..?” He looks confused, wondering. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t.” You state, turning your head back to the wall and staring at it. You miss how his eyebrows shoot up. “So… When are you going to kill me?” You pick at your nails, continuing to feel stupid for thinking someone like him would actually want you. You turn your head when you don’t hear a response and tilt your head as he stares at you, confused. “That’s why you tricked me, right? To kill me, you didn’t exactly pretend to like me, drug me, and tie me up in your basement because you’re madly in love with me, and that’s the only way you thought you could get me.”

“You’re not afraid? Why aren’t you screaming, crying or swearing at me?” He’s so confused, getting closer to you, kneeling before you as he looks into your eyes. “Why is there nothing? You’re so empty.”

You blink, staring at him blankly. “If you don’t mind, ‘Steve’. I would like not to talk and for you to just get to the point.” You move away from him, crawling up the bed and lying on your back as you stare at the ceiling. “I’ll be here… Waiting patiently for my death. Not like I have anywhere to go.”

You let out a sigh when he left the room, one side of your mind begging for him to stay and the other staying quiet. You couldn’t let yourself fall for his stupid face again, and you didn’t want to beg someone to love you. You wanted that to come naturally. But you don’t think that will ever happen because… You were you, and people didn’t like what they saw.

Steve was curious, and you were like a puzzle to him. He had never met anyone so void of emotion and missed the woman he met. You seemed so happy and carefree, sure. He did notice that you were more closed off and didn’t seem to let him so close. He wanted to change that. He needed some sort of reaction, some sort of emotion. How can you be so calm during all this? Steve left you alone for a while, barely acknowledging the other women locked up, barely acknowledging his wife and kids, or the women he promised dates to. You were occupying his mind, and it was driving him crazy. He had destroyed most of the upstairs, trying anything to get you out of his head. He couldn’t take it. The look in your eyes, your words, it was all getting to him.

Steve remembered your dates and how you told him about the books you used to write. He recalled that you said it was the only thing that made you genuinely feel something, and an idea sparked. Steve gathered a notebook, some pens, and some food and water before making his way down to the basement. He knocks on the door before sliding it open and smiling at you. “I brought you something that I think you’ll enjoy.” You continue to stare at the wall, your eyes tired. Steve sighs, softly walking over and placing the items before you. “I’m trusting you with these pens, but if you do something—”

“You’ll what? Kill me?” You scoff, eyes slowly moving to connect with his. “That was already your plan, and this would make the killing go faster.” You roll your eyes, barely looking at the things he placed before you. “Did you need anything else? Because I’d rather you just hurry this along.” Your head turns again, ignoring him because what was the point of giving him any more attention?

“Why are you behaving like this? I bought you some of the things I remember you talked about. You should at least feel happy?” Your head falls back as you let out a laugh, startling Steve, who stares at you as if you’ve grown three heads. “What? What’s so funny?!” Why wouldn’t you just submit?! Why were you so different from the others?! It bewildered Steve how you could sit so emotionless and then laugh as if he had said something funny.

“You. Do you think giving me a notebook and pens would suddenly make me happy? Did you not stop to think that you are the problem? I have already come to terms with the fact that no one will ever love me, that you only pretended so you could kidnap me and kill me. So why aren’t you killing me?! Why are you taking your sweet time?!” You snap, struggling against the chains as you stand and move toward Steve, punching his chest. “Kill me! Kill me, goddammit!” You scream, your eyes are still emotionless, yet your words hold so much power.

Steve holds your wrists, stopping you from hitting him. He stares down at you, wondering why his heart clenches like this. “No.” He moves away, needing to get out of this room and get away from you as you make his head fuzzy. He watches as you stare at him in disbelief.

“So, what… I’m not good enough to love and not good enough to kill either?” You sink back onto the bed, your eyes staring at the wall as you realise you will never be good enough for anything or anyone. Steve quickly leaves the room, going through the house, destroying more things on the way. How could you get into his head like this? No one else had done it, so why were you so different?

You sat there, staring at the untouched notebook before slowly reaching for it, and as you grabbed the pen, the words began to flow out of you and onto the page. Everything you felt deep inside was coming out through stories. Not feeling in the mood to eat or drink, you spend most of the day and night writing. As many more days pass, Steve comes in and out with more gifts and food. You continued to ignore him, not knowing how to react, waiting for him to decide when it was your time to die finally. But the day never came. You think a month had passed, but you weren’t so sure. Steve walked into your room, undoing the chains and holding out his hand. “C’mon. I’ve prepared us some dinner.” You stare at him warily before slowly standing and following him. He leads you to the kitchen and pulls out the chair for you.

“Why am I out here?” You sit, tapping the table, watching him place the food onto the plates, not daring to touch it as Steve sits across from you.

“I’ve come to realise something, and at first, it scared me. You’re different from the rest.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious. Do you know how confusing this is for me? You’ve taken over my mind, and I can’t focus on anything else.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I’ve stopped you from tricking other women into believing you love them.” Your eyes roll again, leaning back into the chair. “Do you need a tissue?” You pick up the napkin beside your plate, offering it out to him.

Steve stares at you blankly, his eye twitching as he’s stuck between wanting to strangle you and make love to you. “No, I do not need a tissue. I’m trying to tell you that I feel something for you.” He’s startled again as you laugh.

“You feel something for me?” You feel tears prick your eyes as you continue to laugh. “Oh, god. That’s probably the funniest thing I’ve heard. I think you are delusional.” You shake your head, and your laughter slowly dies down. Your eyes connect with him, and you stare. “You’ve already got me here. You don’t need to keep lying to make yourself feel better.” You continue to tap on the table. “So… When am I going to die?”

“You aren’t. I’m keeping you alive.”

“Oh, great. Fantastic. Sounds so fun to be alive and kept locked away in a basement for the rest of my life. Good plan.” You give a little clap and throw him a fake smile. But deep down, your stomach twisted, and your heart dropped. This was worse than waiting to die. Now you would be locked away, unloved, and eventually wither away. Your expression on the outside stayed void of any emotion.

“No, you will stay up here. With me.”

You wished you had never even gone to that stupid market. You wished you had never believed Steve’s stupid words or smile. How could you be so stupid to believe someone would ever choose you?

You were unwanted.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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rosesloveletters · 2 months

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1971!Willy Wonka NSFW Alphabet

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Reader

Word Count: 2,069

Warnings: nsfw / sexual content.

Summary: Filled out NSFW alphabet template.

Author's Note: I think this was requested, but I had planned to write it anyway. Since I don't know when I'll have another full fic to post, here's a lil treat. Enjoy <3

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Willy is very attentive to your needs after passionate lovemaking sessions. Need help getting cleaned up? He’ll take the initiative to get up first and help you clean yourself up. Want some cuddles? He’ll be there with open arms, waiting for you to curl up in his embrace. Whatever it is that you need, he is more than happy to oblige. As long as you make your needs known, he will always do his best to meet them.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

As an intellectual, Willy loves his brain and all things connected to it, i.e. his thoughts, ideas, desires, etc. His mind is what attracted you to him so how could he not fall in love with it just a little bit? He would also say that he is quite fond of his hands because of how easily he can use them to create things, carry out his whims or bring you pleasure…

He is also in love with your brain and all of the beautiful things in it. There is not one specific thing he loves the most about your physical appearance. Every part of your body is equally intriguing to him, but in different ways.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Wonka is not fond of cum, mainly because of the mess. His creative, artistically inclined mindset often means that he is disorganized, yet he is never dirty or messy. He takes pride in his appearance, so anything directly related to any bodily functions are taken care of discreetly and with haste.

He is a gentleman and perceives that ejaculation anywhere on his lover’s body is disrespectful.

He treats his partner with respect and only cums inside of them, while of course wearing a condom—safe sex is incredibly important to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He occasionally fantasizes about his partner hiding beneath his desk and giving him a blowjob while he works.

Or perhaps his thoughts might drift to them taking him aside in the chocolate room and dropping to their knees behind one of the trees or mushrooms and satisfying him there.

He would never, ever let it happen, mostly because he could not stand the thought of someone seeing or catching him in the act.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not as experienced as one might think, but he knows enough to engage in the act without needing any guidance.

He has only had a couple of sexual encounters in his lifetime, mostly because he has a low sex drive and doesn’t think about it or experience urges very often. His mind is preoccupied with creating new products and he doesn’t have much time to think about or engage in sex.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary is his favorite.

It’s a classic and he loves to be able to gaze into his partner’s eyes, watching all the little emotions that flicker across their face as he makes love to them.

A close-second is having his partner straddle his lap while they ride him. Sometimes it is enjoyable for him to let them take the lead and he certainly appreciates sitting back and letting them use his body to bring themself pleasure.

On the rarest of occasions, he will take his partner from behind, mostly if he is already in a more possessive mood.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on his mood.

Wonka is usually very jovial and a bit of a trickster.

He does not believe that sex must be serious all the time, but he will read the room and conduct himself after the precedent his lover sets.

His partner’s overall enjoyment is his top priority and if cracking jokes or laughter helps make the experience more fun for them, he’ll be sure to find little ways of bringing a bit of humor into the personal encounter.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Wonka tends to be a bit vain.

He is well-groomed; trimmed, not shaven.

The carpet does match the drapes in terms of curliness, however down below is thicker and one or two shades darker than on top of his head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Willy is a romantic at heart.

Every aspect of intimacy is very romantic and, depending on how comfortable his partner is with it, he will make sure that every sexual act is steeped in romance.

He wants his partner to feel comfortable and safe enough to be vulnerable with him. After all, Wonka is being just as vulnerable as they are and the romantic aspect is in part done for him as much as for his lover.

He loves to give kisses and nuzzles and gentle touches.

His hands will guide his lover’s movements, helping them maneuver themselves if they are finding it difficult to do so on their own.

Often, he takes it upon himself to shoulder the more dominant position, however, he can find plenty of ways to be romantic in a more submissive role if his partner feels more comfortable with that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Wonka rarely, if ever, masturbates.

He thinks too much and is unable to achieve orgasm.

It doesn’t bring him pleasure the same way that making love to his partner does and if he is seeing someone, then what is the point in doing it himself?

If it ever comes to it, he’ll masturbate in the shower because he can easily get rid of the evidence and clean himself off immediately afterwards.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Wonka isn’t very kinky.

However, he prides himself on being a brat tamer and isn’t afraid to speak his mind, sometimes sending his partner into a tailspin because of the things he says to keep them in line.

There is a bit of a darker side to him and, on occasion and with the right stimulus, he can be persuaded into becoming demanding, playing the role of a very dominant partner for the sake of having passionate, possessive sex.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Wonka is not interested in having sex anywhere except in the bedroom.

He does not even want to think of anyone having perceptions of his sex life or the knowledge that he engages in anything of a sexual nature, even though he is not ashamed of it or anything like that.

He likes to maintain his privacy and therefore he won’t risk anyone seeing him perform any sexual acts.

Occasionally he might be persuaded into making love on the couch, yet he still does not appreciate how exposed the living room feels in comparison to the privacy of the bedroom.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Clever word play and wit are very stimulating for Wonka.

Wonka has sex using his mind, not just his body. It entices him when his partner matches his intellect and can find ways to stimulate the conversation the same way one might do with his body.

It gets him going to see his partner dressing up for him or taking pride in their appearance for him. It turns him on to no end if he ever sees them casually wearing one of his shirts or trying on his clothes.

He’s got a bit of a thing for seeing his partner in lingerie…

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Willy would never do anything to cause his partner any pain or discomfort, nor would he take advantage of them or knowingly cross any boundaries without direct approval or consent.

He will be checking on and following up with his partner throughout any sexual encounter to be certain that he still has their consent and will immediately stop if he even suspects they are uncomfortable or do not wish to continue.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Wonka prefers giving rather than receiving, but he wouldn’t turn down a blowjob every once in a while, especially after a particularly rough day.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and steady is just what Wonka likes.

Nothing about the way that Wonka makes love to his partner is ever fast and rough, unless they would like for it to be.

Wonka takes his time, striving to give pleasure to his partner over time, building up to a crescendo of emotion and release rather than giving it everything all that once.

Foreplay is incredibly important to him and he won’t skip it; it takes incredible skill to get it just right.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As stated above, Wonka likes to take his time and therefore, he wouldn’t go for a quickie unless it was the only option.

He would prefer to wait if no other options were available to him because times spent with his lover is so precious to him that he would not want to be rushed.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Wonka is not a risk taker when it comes to sex.

Unprotected sex is a big ‘no’ for him. He is not interested in having children of his own and he cares enough about his partner to take their feelings and needs into consideration as well.

There are times for risks and intimacy is not one of them as far as he is concerned.

As for experimentation, he is willing to try most things at least once, especially if his partner asks for them.

The only thing unacceptable to him is causing his partner any discomfort or pain. The most one might be able to coax out of him is a bit of spanking, but do not expect it to cause much pain at all. He hates even the thought of accidentally hurting his partner; he would find it nearly impossible to forgive himself if he harmed them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Wonka makes up for his lack of stamina with his passion, charisma and charm.

Due to the duration of a session, he is usually exhausted and satisfied after one round.

However, if his partner wants more, he will do what he can to satisfy them, although he always makes certain that this is a rarity; he is gifted in knowing how to please his partner so that one round is almost always plenty for both of them.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

This might come as a surprise, but Wonka can be a bit jealous and territorial regarding his partner. He would not like the idea of them relying on a toy for personal pleasure when he is willing and perfectly capable of satisfying their every desire.

He does not forbid his partner from pleasuring themselves, nor will he be angry if he were to find out they owned and used toys, but he would want to have a conversation about whether or not their needs were being met so that he could do his best to meet them and would use this opportunity to check up on them and make sure he isn’t doing anything that they don’t like or do not wish for him to continue doing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

In the right mood, Wonka is a relentless tease.

He can undress his partner with just his eyes, leaving them squirming under his piercing blue gaze.

He’ll be a bit unfair sometimes, using his personal wit and charm to debilitate his partner and leave them crumbling beneath him.

He can and will talk circles around just about anyone.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Willy is not very loud.

The most his partner will get out of him are a few grunts and the occasional breathy moan.

Unless directly requested, he won’t make very much noise.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Along the lines of a more sensual headcanon, Wonka would love to shower with his partner.

Cleanliness is very important to him (it must be since he works with food) and showering together is a nice way to help him feel more connected with his partner and to warm himself and loosen up his muscles before intimacy occurs.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Wonka’s body is very soft.

He is not chiseled or have a rigid, sharp bone structure.

His skin is very soft and plush, conducive to being cuddled and squished.

He is somewhat toned and has an average build with some defined muscle, specifically in his biceps and thighs.

He has a broad chest that lacks a lot of hair, though he does have a faint happy trail leading from his belly button down to his pelvic area.

His manhood is slightly above average.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

My personal headcanon is that Wonka is greysexual and therefore his sex drive is very low.

He does not strike me as someone who values sex as a defining part of a romantic relationship, although he does appreciate it for its role and has desires and urges he needs to satisfy from time to time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a while to fall asleep afterward, mainly because he is concerned with making sure his partner’s needs have been met before he allows himself to relax or take what he needs.

Once they have been looked after, Wonka will relax, cuddling into them and letting himself drift off into dreamland.

#willy wonka #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #wwatcf #wilder!wonka #willy wonka 1971 #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka x you #willy wonka imagine #willy wonka and the chocolate factory imagine #gene wilder #biblio :: 📖

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multimusedreamss · 4 months

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Dᥲtιᥒg thᥱ Evᥲᥒs

Chᥲrᥲᥴtᥱrs: Kit, Kyle (pre & post death), Colin, Jeff + Peter Rᥱᥲdᥱr Tყρᥱ: Gender Neutral Aᥙthor's Notᥱ: This is a repost from my old tumblr blog @/mrs-darling that I had deleted a couple of years ago but still kept this, so I figured I'd share it again. This was also initially a request for just Kit and Kyle but I decided to make it ‘the Evans’ instead! I added Jeff for a laugh, it might actually be a terrible depiction but I tried. Wᥲrᥒιᥒgs: pure fluff & slight NSFW (sex mention & also drug reference because of Jeff)

Kιt Wᥲᥣkᥱr

Kit is super domesticated with or without a significant other, so dating him would be relaxing but still fun

Most of your dates would take place at one of your homes

Whether it was a home-cooked meal that you both cooked together

Or a movie night with all of the sweets and treats that he picked up on the way to your house

Baking together whether it be cookies, cupcakes, cake, or anything really

He loves cinnamon buns though

So that was always a go-to

Drive-in theater dates

Going to the fair together

Kissing at the top of the Ferris wheel

After a while of dating, you’d moved in together

He is really affectionate

I’m pretty sure his love language would be physical touch

So expect to be greeted with a hug and a kiss when he came home from work and also when he left for work or just went anywhere really

Kit is a top-tier boyfriend

He always supported you no matter what you wanted to do

Whether it was a career path you wanted to take, going to college, writing a book, being a waitress, being a chef, having your own business run out of your home

It didn’t matter, you always had his support

He would never let anything bad happen to you

He would straight-up punch a dude if they ever laid a hand on you inappropriately

When he was in Briarcliff, you’d both write to each other as much as possible

You’d also visit as much as they’d allow

When he finally got out, he asked you to marry him

And you had the best wedding you could have asked for

Kყᥣᥱ Sρᥱᥒᥴᥱr (ρrᥱ & ρost dᥱᥲth)

(pre-death)

Kyle is a literal angel

Baby would fall for you so hard so fast

You didn’t mind because you felt the same way about him

When you went to frat parties together, he’d always have a protective arm around you or hold your hand just so everyone knows you're his and none of the frat boys take advantage of you

He’d rarely leave your side at a party because he knows how frat boys can be

You’d do the cutest things together

Like building blanket forts and watching movies with a phone projector

Play board games together

Netflix and chill

Having spa nights occasionally where you’d do face masks and mani/pedis

Of course, he would never let you tell anyone he enjoyed those things

Study together

Which usually ended in a small make-out session as a reward for studying so hard

You’d also do silly things together

Like putting googly eyes on everything in his frat house (it was totally his idea)

Trying new things together

Like having him try a pottery class where he accidentally spun the wheel so much the clay flew off the table

Overall, dating Kyle would be so much fun and he’d treat you like an absolute Queen

(post-death)

You would have dated before he died

Dating post-death Kyle was definitely not the same as dating pre-death Kyle

You had to be extremely patient and understanding with him

You wouldn’t really go out on dates much in the beginning because it was hard for him to act appropriately

As time went on and he got better with going out, you’d go places like the aquarium or the zoo and he’d absolutely love it

Most of your date nights would take place at home

You’d build blanket forts and watch movies, just like you did when he was alive

You’d teach him how to bake

99% of the time the kitchen would be a wreck and you’d both definitely need a shower or bath because of how much of the ingredients got all over the both of you

You’d play games that were easy like Trouble and Candyland

You’d watch all the Disney movies and TV shows together

He’d give the best cuddles

Baby boy loves his cuddles

Wow does this boy love you

He’d literally kill for you in a heartbeat

Totally die for you too

But you would never let that happen because you love him so much

Coᥣιᥒ Zᥲbᥱᥣ

Colin is the sweetest boy ever

Like Kyle, he falls hard and fast

Probably even faster than Kyle

He’s literally a little puppy when you’re dating

Always ecstatic to see you and just wants some love (hugs + kisses)

Since he works so much, he tries to make as much time for you on the weekends as he possibly can

You’d go out to dinner at fancy restaurants

And do more low-key things like cook some dinner and watch a movie

Some nights he’d text you pretty late after he’s been working on a case for hours on end

You’d go over to his house to distract him and make his day less stressful

Because you always made him feel so happy and were a great distraction from his work

Late nights on the couch, drinking beer and talking until the early hours of the night

Sometimes you’d both fall asleep on the couch with his head on your chest

Depending on what time he went to work in the morning, you’d get up early so you could have some breakfast with him

Don’t expect pancakes and eggs

It’s all about the bagels

But you can expect to have peanut butter, cream cheese, and jelly, Nutella, any kind of spread you can think of

He cares about you so much and would do just about anything for you

He’d go out of his way to make you happy with no complaints

Probably would tell you he loved you within 2 months on a whim without thinking it through

But you loved him too so it didn’t scare you away

Jᥱff Pfιstᥱr

Dating Jeff could go one of two ways I think

The two things that remain the same are:

Doing lots of cocaine

And giving lots of head

One way dating him could go is:

He’d probably not consider you his partner for like 6 months, if ever

He isn’t the most caring person, so don’t expect many praises from him

He might have Mutt send you some gifts here and there but he’d never do it himself

Maybe if he likes you enough he’ll send you flowers or something with a note that says ‘thanks for the bjs’

Don’t expect a sappy note from him

If you ever told him you love him, he’d probably laugh and do a line of coke and ask for a bj

After like a year of you two being together, he’d probably say “I guess I love you” or some shit

He’d probably secretly care more than he lets on

Definitely not a top-tier boyfriend but if you want some coke, he’d definitely hook you up for a bj in return

Another way it could go:

You give him the best bj of his life and he’s head over heels for you like a legit puppy

He’d be begging you to come to the office for a line and also a bj as much as possible

Maybe if you’re lucky he’ll give you head (I said maybe)

He’d probably send you flowers that he picked out himself

Not just one bouquet

Like 20 to fill up a room in your house or your whole office

He’d get you a job where he works so that you can be together as much as possible

He doesn’t just like you for your head game

Probably says ‘I love you’ after like 2 months but by accident while you’re giving him head

Dating Jeff isn’t terrible, he does have a soft side that he only shows for you

Pᥱtᥱr Mᥲxιmoff

If you’re dating Peter, you’re in for a wild ride

He probably does the dumbest shit

And you’d probably either join in or record it

He’s pretty funny, so you’d be laughing constantly when you’re with him

Sometimes he can get lost in his video games

So you’d have to pry him away, which isn’t that hard because he’s a puppy for you

He’d fall hard and fast

Of course, it’d fast

Literal simp

You cannot tell me this boy wouldn’t be a simp the second he saw you

If you’re at the X-Mansion with him and were both teachers, you’d constantly be getting into trouble with Logan and Professor X

Logan would be so done with your shit

At one point he’d just groan and roll his eyes and say “Not this shit again” and light a cigar, pretending like he didn’t see a thing

Playing pranks on everyone from the teachers to the kids

The kids obviously love Peter so much and he loves them

So by default, they’d love you too

Peter would take you for runs everywhere

That meant you could go everywhere and anywhere in seconds

Just not over the ocean, he’s not that fast… he’s tried

He’d take you to your favorite state

If you loved Philly cheese steaks, he’d run to Philly and get them for you

If you loved Chicago deep dish pizza, he’d run there and bring it to you

Definitely steal it all because boy is a kelpto

He’d literally do anything you’d ask in a flat-out second

Probably even do that before you were dating because boy was simpin hard

During the holidays, you’d go out and do all the festivities

Including apple picking, dressing up for Halloween, getting pumpkins, going over to each other's houses for Thanksgiving, ice skating around the winter time, spending Christmas morning together, being together for Hanukkah, whichever holiday you celebrate

Overall, dating Peter would be so wholesome but buckle up cuz you’re in for a while ride

81 notes · View notes

genshinluvr · 2 years

Text

Words that Should Have Been Left Unsaid 2

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After struggling to wake you up from your slumber, the men have to figure out what is going on with you and what was causing you to be in a terrible state. While you have gained consciousness, it was hard for you to stay awake and you continued to have a thundering headache, and sometimes your nose, eyes, mouth, and ears will randomly bleed, causing you to lose consciousness. What was going on with you?

Note: To be honest, I thought it would just stay as a standalone fic (meaning there wouldn't be a part two to it), but the people on Tumblr and AO3 demand a part two! I don't know how I feel about this fic in particular, but I hope you all enjoy it either way! ;v; I sort of planned on keeping it angsty, but my heart can't even deal with my own angsty idea, so I changed it up a bit. To my new and returning readers, I post on AO3 as well, so if you have an AO3 and see a work similar to this, it’s me (Aaliah_exo on AO3). I don’t post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Angst-ish, mentions of blood, Scaramouche is still somewhat of an asshole in this fic

Word Count: 8.3k

Read Part 1 of Words that Should Have Been Left Unsaid [here]!

After calling numerous healers and doctors from all over Teyvat, all of them couldn’t figure out what was going on with you. There, you lay in your bed, unconscious. Your chest was slowly rising and falling with each weak breath you took. The blood had stopped flowing from your ears, eyes, nose, and mouth, and the men are grateful that it stopped because they wouldn’t know what else to do if you continued to bleed. They didn’t want to leave your side, and they were afraid that they could be losing you. Not even the day had gone by, and you were unresponsive.

“We couldn’t figure out what’s going on with them.” The doctor from Sumeru says, looking over at where you were laying.

“There’s no sickness, and there aren’t any injuries.” The Fontaine healer says, adjusting his glasses over the bridge of his nose. “This is very strange.” He hums.

“How long has [Y/N] been like this?” The Inazuman doctor asks, looking over at Baizhu.

Baizhu sighed weakly and shrugged his shoulders, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was clear that Baizhu was exhausted and worried about your health, but who isn’t? The other fourteen men were surrounding your bed while you were unconscious. You hardly moved in your unconscious state; you looked both peaceful and in pain. It was terrifying to see you in this state.

“I do not know. [Y/N] has been acting off for a while but had never voiced their concerns about what was going on with them.” Baizhu replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So, they’ve been keeping this from all of you?” The Snezhnayan healer asks, leaning against the door frame with her arms over her chest.

“That’s correct, unfortunately,” Ayato spoke up, brushing your hair away from your face as you continued to sleep. You didn’t have any reaction to the light touch from Ayato, continuing to sleep.

“Well, [Y/N] is not sick, nor do they have any bodily injury.” The Natlan doctor says, approaching where Baizhu and the other healers stood. “I tried to check and see whether there could be any internal injuries, but I don’t see anything at all.” The tanned woman says, looking over at where you were lying.

“Then, why is [Y/N] bleeding from their eyes, nose, ears, and mouth?” Kaeya asks, frowning at the doctors and healers in the room.

“That, we don’t know,” The Sumeru doctor says, running his hands through his purple hair. “It’s a strange situation. I’ve never seen this case before in my studies.” He murmurs, stroking his chin.

“We can talk more about this outside; I believe these men would like to have some time with [Y/N],” The Snezhnayan healer says softly. One by one, each doctor and healer left the room with Baizhu accompanying them.

“We wouldn’t be here if [Y/N] told us what was going on with them!” Scaramouche scowls; his hands were balled up into a tight fist as he clenched his jaws.

“Oh, great! You felt guilty earlier, and now you’re blaming them for this situation?” Diluc asks, glaring at the short Harbinger with his arms over his chest.

“I’m starting to think he never felt guilty about what he has said to [Y/N].” Dainsleif states, sizing the electro Harbinger from head to toe.

Before Scaramouche could open his mouth to retort, you groaned softly in your sleep. All fourteen heads snap in your direction. You stretched in your bed, and before cracking, your eyes opened. Your eyes were glossed over; you blinked slowly and rubbed your eyes with your hands. You mumbled incoherent words to yourself, the men couldn’t hear what you’ve said, but they all scrambled to where you were. Kazuha and Xiao held onto your hands, afraid of letting go of you. Gorou hovers above you, gently patting your cheeks to grab your attention.

“[Y/N]! Are you okay?!” Gorou asks, his bottom lips quivering as he tries to hold back his tears.

“‘M tired.” You mumbled.

Xiao immediately pulls you into his arms, cradling you close to his chest. You were too tired and weak to fight back, so, you lay your head against the crook of his neck. Xiao looks up at the rest of the men before gazing back down at you. Your eyelids were threatening to close; they felt so heavy. Never in your life have you felt this tired before.

“[Y/N], do you know what’s going on?” Kazuha asks softly, lacing his fingers with yours as you try to remain conscious.

Shaking your head weakly, you respond, “I don’t know what’s going on. My head is killing me; it hurts so much.” You whispered, looking up at Kazuha with hazy eyes. You looked so out of it; it terrifies the men.

“Do you remember when it all started?” Albedo asks, sitting down in front of you, Xiao, and Kazuha. You shook your head weakly. You bit down on your bottom lip when another wave of headache hits you. You buried your face into the nape of Xiao’s neck, tears pooling in your eyes. The men could hear a faint whimper coming from you.

“I don’t know when it started happening, but it hurts so much.” You whispered, peeking from Xiao’s neck. Fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks, and thundering headache pulses from one side of your head to another, causing you to wince in pain visibly. “Please, please, please make it stop.” You cried, grabbing onto Xiao’s shirt tightly.

Your body suddenly shook as you began to cough. Both of your hands covered your mouth as you coughed; you felt something warm splash onto the palm of your hands. You reluctantly pulled your hands away, only to see droplets of blood on your hands. Your eyes widened, and you let out a weak gasp. Your lips were stained with your blood, and the look of fear in your glossy eyes terrified the men. Your vision suddenly turned black; your eyes rolled to the back of your head before you collapsed against Xiao, unconscious.

Thoma, Zhongli, and Childe immediately left the room to get Baizhu and the doctors and healers from the other nations. The others hovered around you, Xiao and Kazuha, afraid of your condition getting even worse than it already was. Xiao held onto you tightly, grinding his teeth together as he tried to hold back his tears. What if he loses you? What if you die in his arms? You dying in his arms was something he would never want to experience.

“Please be okay,” Xiao whispers, pressing his lips on the crown of your head.

Thundering footsteps approach your bedroom. The doctors and healers enter the room with Thoma, Zhongli, and Childe, the look of worry evident on their faces.

“Xiao, let go of [Y/N]. The doctors, healers, and Baizhu needs to make sure that [Y/N]’s condition doesn’t get any worse.” Childe says. Xiao shakes his head stubbornly, pulling you much closer to his chest.

“Xiao….” Zhongli sighs softly, frowning at the adepti in front of him. Xiao buries his face into your hair, tears rolling down his cheeks as he tightens his grip around your shirt.

“It’s alright, Zhongli. We can still check up on [Y/N] while they’re in Xiao’s arms.” The Natlan doctor says, giving Zhongli a small smile before approaching where you and Xiao are. The doctor offers Xiao a reassuring smile, gesturing to your unconscious form. Xiao swallows the lump in his throat before reluctantly releasing you slowly. The doctor assessed you for the next fifteen minutes with the other doctors and healers by her side. During the checkup, you remained unconscious for the time being, occasionally wincing in pain, tiny whimpers coming from you. After the initial check-up, Kaeya pressed his hand up against your forehead. You sighed in contentment when his cold hands pressed against your warm forehead, almost subconsciously leaning into his touch.

“[Y/N]’s still burning up.” Kaeya murmurs, sitting down beside Xiao.

“Is there a way for us to lower their body temperature?” Itto asks, glancing over at the doctors and healers from the seven nations.

“The best answer I have so far is to either put a cold, wet cloth on their forehead or give them a cold bath.” The Snezhnayan healer sighs softly.

“We can’t leave [Y/N] in a cold bath unattended. What if they faint and drown in the bathtub?” Thoma asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Then the best way to prevent [Y/N] from drowning in the bathtub is to take baths with them!” Venti interjects, earning glares from the other men around him.

“Now’s not a good time to be making suggestive comments, Venti,” Xiao muttered, rolling his eyes at Venti’s comment as he brushed your hair away from your face. Small strands of your hair were sticking to your forehead. You were burning up, but you were shaking like a leaf.

“How long will this… sickness last?” Diluc asks, looking over at Baizhu and the doctors and healers from other nations.

“It’s hard to tell.” The doctor from Sumeru sighs, shrugging his shoulders.

“Because we don’t know how long [Y/N] has been “sick,” we can’t determine when [Y/N] will be cured,” Baizhu says, putting air quotes around the word sick.

Gorou looks at Baizhu in confusion before asking, “Why did you put air quotes around the word sick? Is [Y/N] sick or not?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“We cannot determine if it’s a sickness or not, hence why Doctor Baizhu put quotation marks around the word sick.” The Natlan doctor says.

“Great, even health professionals don’t know what they’re dealing with.” Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

“The best thing you all can do right now is to make sure that their temperature doesn’t get any higher. Make sure [Y/N] eat some food so that [Y/N] doesn’t starve themselves.” It was the last instruction the doctors and healers gave the men before leaving the abode. It was hard for everyone to continue their day normally when you were bedridden, and you barely gained any of your consciousness.

The men were checking up on you every hour of the day to make sure you were still breathing and that your condition didn’t worsen throughout the day. Luckily, your fever went down, and you weren’t bleeding anywhere. The only problem was you had a hard time staying awake. Well, as if that wasn’t you already, you could hardly stay awake for five minutes.

“[Y/N],” Ayato whispers softly, gently shaking you to wake up.

“[Y/N], you need to wake up to eat something,” Thoma murmurs, placing the tray of food down on your bed as he helps Ayato wake you up. You groaned softly, stretching in your bed before pulling the blanket over your shoulders and continuing to sleep.

“Are they still asleep?” Albedo asks, leaning against your doorframe with his arms over his chest. Ayato and Thoma nod their heads in response, looking over at the chief alchemist. Albedo sighs softly, approaching where you were lying. Albedo kneeled down on your bed and took his gloves off, placing his bare hand on your forehead. Albedo hums softly as his hands slowly trail down to your neck to check on your pulse. Your pulse seemed ordinary, and it didn’t wasn’t weak or faint at all, which was a relief because that would’ve caused even more issues for everyone in the abode.

“I see you three fools are having a hard time with waking my snookums up!” The trio jumped at the sound of Childe’s voice. Albedo, Ayato, and Thoma glanced over at where Childe stood. Zhongli sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while Childe walks further into your room with a confident strut.

“Don’t cause any trouble, Childe. We’re here to wake [Y/N] up for their lunch.” Zhongli sighs, his eyebrows narrowing with irritation. Poor Zhongli, choosing to be a mortal over an archon, only to be babysitting a Fatui Harbinger that brings nothing but chaos wherever he goes.

“Don’t do anything funny, Harbinger,” Dainsleif says, glaring at Childe across the room. The men did a double-take when Dainsleif spoke up. Where in the world did he come from? The last time they checked, you were sleeping in your room all alone. Who knew that Dainsleif was guarding you the entire time in the shadows.

“How long have you been standing there?” Dainsleif’s head snaps towards Xiao’s direction, seeing the adepti emerging from the shadows as well. Dainsleif and Xiao blinked at one another, staring at each other without saying anything.

“Oh, so you two have been watching [Y/N] sleep this entire time?” Venti asks, walking into the room with a lyre in his hands.

“Kind of creepy, if you ask me,” Itto whispers loudly to Kazuha and Gorou.

“I believe that the two of them were keeping their eyes on [Y/N] to make sure that nothing bad happened to them while they slept,” Kazuha murmurs, walking over to your bed before sitting down at the edge of your bed while you continued to sleep.

“Well, [Y/N] needs to wake up to eat!” Gorou says, crawling onto your bed before stroking your hair lightly.

“And how are we going to get them out of bed when they’re having a hard time with waking up?” Kaeya asks, tilting his head to the side with a questioning look on his face.

“Oh, I have a solution or two on getting [Y/N] to wake up,” Scaramouche speaks up, holding his hands up while a crackle of electricity was buzzing and glowing at his fingertips.

“NO!” The men screamed in chorus while Xiao and Dainsleif grabbed onto both of Scaramouche’s arms, causing the purple-haired Harbinger to scowl and thrash around in their grasps.

“Seriously, Scaramouche?! You’ve hurt [Y/N] enough. Stop trying to inflict more pain on them.” Itto says, glaring at the short male with his arms over his chest.

“With the way you have treated [Y/N], I question whether you had actually cared about them in the first place or not.” Baizhu frowns, his eyes narrowing at Scaramouche.

“Me too. The way he treats [Y/N] isn’t how people would treat the person they care about.” Ayato nods his head, looking over at Scaramouche with a cold gaze.

Childe clears his throat, grabbing the men’s attention. He smirks and fixes the collar of his shirt before saying, “I believe that I have the perfect solution to waking [Y/N] up from their slumber!” Childe crosses his arms over his chest.

“Oh, do you now? What’s the solution that you have?” Diluc asks, his eyebrows raising at the Harbinger in front of him. Childe smirks and walks over to your bed and knelt in front of you. You were still unconscious; you looked so peaceful and adorable! Childe couldn’t help but melt at the sight of your sleeping face; how cute and delicate! Childe sits on your bed and brushes the tangled hairs from your face before leaning down. Just before Childe can press his lips against yours, Xiao tackles Childe to the floor, the two of them stumbling and rolling on the floor of your bedroom with a loud thud.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, you disgusting Harbinger.” Xiao scowls, the tip of the polearm pointed at Childe’s neck. Childe smirks at Xiao before smacking the polearm to the side while getting up from the ground.

“Hm, he beat me to it.” Dainsleif comments, staring at Xiao and Childe with an amused look on his face.

“Why do you think that kissing [Y/N] while they sleep will wake them up?” Albedo asks, raising an eyebrow at Childe.

“Perhaps he’s trying to give [Y/N] one of those fairytales kisses,” Venti spoke up, clutching onto his lyre against his chest.

“Fairytale kisses?” Zhongli cocks his eyebrows at Venti, who nods his head happily in response while gently strumming the lyre in his hands.

“Care to tell us what you mean by that?” Baizhu asks.

“A fairytale kiss is a true love’s kiss,” Thoma states, sighing softly.

After hearing Thoma’s response, the other men (except for Childe and Thoma) all collectively scoffed and rolled their eyes. Did Childe really think that kissing your lips while you’re asleep will magically wake you up from your slumber like those silly fairytales? How laughable! If Childe were to kiss you as you’re sleeping, Xiao and Dainsleif would go after Childe’s head for putting his lips on you while you’re unconscious.

“While the concept of a true love’s kiss is romantic, I believe that [Y/N] isn’t cursed by an evil witch,” Kazuha commented, giving Childe a pointed look.

Diluc pushes through and sits down on your bed, carefully brushing your hair away from your face. He gently nudges you; you stir in your bed and stretch. You forced your eyes open and blinked up at Diluc with bleary eyes; you lifted your hand up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You looked around your bedroom, only to see fourteen (fifteen counting Diluc) pairs of eyes staring back at you. You can see the look of worry on their face as you struggle to sit up. Man, you’re so exhausted that it was hard for you to sit up. Sensing your struggles, Diluc gently wraps his arms around your waist, helping you sit up. You leaned against Diluc and yawned, rubbing your eyes tiredly. If your situation weren’t so dire, the men would’ve been swooning over how adorable you looked after you’ve just woken up from your slumber.

“Why are you guys in my room at once?” You mumble, feeling your eyelids becoming heavy. Oh great, you were on the verge of falling asleep once again.

“Well, we came to your room to bring you your food to eat,” Thoma says, pointing at the tray of food that was sitting at the foot of your bed with a gentle smile.

“O-Oh! Thank you, guys! I really appreciate it!” You give them a tired smile before yawning again.

“Hm, how interesting. How come Diluc can wake [Y/N] up with a simple touch, but they barely woke up to our touches when we try to wake them up.” Ayato mutters, a tiny pout appearing on his face as he watches Diluc hold you gently against his chest.

“To be fair, I did try to wake up. But it was really hard for me to keep my eyes open because of how drained I felt.” You mumbled, holding your hands out to reach for the tray of food. Thoma grabs the tray and sits on your bed next to you. You tried to feed yourself, but Thoma didn’t let you lift a single finger, telling you that he was going to feed you instead.

“You’re having a hard time staying awake, and you feel drained, huh?” Baizhu murmurs, stroking his chin as he analyzes you from head to toe. You nodded your head in response, swallowing the braised meat that Thoma was feeding you. You felt your growling stomach settle down as you continued to eat the braised meat. There were times when you almost fell asleep, but Diluc had to make sure that you stayed awake by patting your cheeks lightly, or one of the men will ask you a question to grab your attention.

“We’re very worried about you. Did you know that?” Itto asks gently, kneeling down where you and Diluc sat. You nod your head slowly, trying your best to stay up and not drift off to sleep.

“Do you think you might have an explanation as to what is going on?” Kazuha asks, sitting down in front of you.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the answer to what’s happening. My head still hurts; there’s hardly any energy left inside of me. It’s hard to stay awake, and I just want to sleep.” You sighed, resting your head on Diluc’s shoulders.

“I’m glad that you weren’t bleeding from your nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. It was a horrifying sight to see.” Venti says, grabbing onto your limp hand before giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I am too. I hope that it doesn’t happen again because I don’t like seeing blood, it makes me feel nauseous, and the sight of it makes my stomach turn.” You shivered at the thought of blood.

Since then, the men have been worried about your well-being that each of them would take turns each night to sleep in your bedroom, just to make sure that nothing happened to you as you were asleep. Some of them took advantage of that opportunity to snuggle with you, having you sleep in their arms as they played with your hair before falling asleep themselves. There will be times when you’re so tired that you can barely get yourself to wake up from your slumber to eat, take showers, or even go for a walk to stretch your legs.

“Come on, you need to get up,” Gorou says softly, nudging you from your slumber.

“I’m really tired, Gorou.” You whispered, attempting to fight back the drowsiness you were feeling.

“Maybe a good exercise can make you feel more energized.” Childe offers, plopping down on your bed next to you.

“No, it wouldn’t. It’ll tire them out even more.” Scaramouche rolls his eyes, smacking Chidle upside of his head.

Diluc crosses his arms over his chest, “We should start off small by having [Y/N] walk around the abode and enjoy some sun. After all, they’ve been cooped up in their bedroom for way too long.” Diluc says.

“That’s a good idea! Let’s try that instead!” Albedo says, nodding his head with a small smile. The men gathered around you and gently lifted you from your bed; as much as you wanted to protest, you couldn’t find the energy in you to object. The minute the men were able to get you to stand up, your knees buckled beneath you, causing you to collapse into Kazuha’s arms. The men around you gasped in surprise, gently grabbing you to steady you while Kazuha had his arms wrapped around your waist. You grumble under your breath as Kazuha gives you a gentle smile. He brushed your disheveled hair from your face with a small laugh.

“Seems like you haven’t gotten your land legs just yet.” Kazuha chuckles. You feel yourself becoming flustered as you wrap your arms around Kazuha’s shoulders shyly.

“You know, if you wanted to get up close and personal with Kazuha, you don’t need to pull that stunt.” Kaeya teases you, poking your flushed cheeks lightly with a faint smile on his face.

“It’s too early to tease me, Kaeya.” You grabbed onto Kaeya’s index finger with a tiny pout on your face. You released Kaeya’s finger before nuzzling your face into Kazuha’s neck, feeling your eyelids beginning to get heavy.

“I think [Y/N]’s falling asleep,” Xiao says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Mmhmm, I am.” You mumbled, snuggling up against Kazuha’s arms. You suddenly jolt from Kazuha’s arms, clearing your throat awkwardly before saying, “I meant that I’m not falling asleep!” Your face felt hot under their gaze.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” Zhongli asks, approaching where you and Kazuha stood, placing a gentle hand on your lower back. You nodded your head eagerly before attempting to walk out of your room without any assistance, only to stumble on your feet.

“Please be careful and don’t rush ahead. You could’ve hurt yourself.” Dainsleif sighs softly.

“Hehe, sorry.” You laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of your head awkwardly. The men give you a sympathetic smile; Childe approaches you and wraps his arms around your shoulders before placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head. You sighed softly, letting yourself melt in Childe’s arms, wrapping your arms around his waist while burying your face into his chest. Childe feels his heart swell up in his chest at your innocent yet adorable gesture. He turns to look at the fourteen other men with a triumphant smirk, sticking his tongue out at them Childe-ishly. The men rolled their eyes at Childe’s juvenile action; their arms crossed over their chests.

“Oh, let’s just start walking already!” Scaramouche mutters, pushing between you and Childe, causing you to stumble back into Baizhu’s chest. Baizhu quickly supports yous, looking over at Scaramouche with a look of disapproval on his face while shaking his head.

“Be careful! [Y/N] could’ve gotten hurt because of you!” Baizhu scolds Scaramouche. The only response Baizhu has gotten from Scaramouche was a grumble.

“Don’t mind him, Baizhu! Scaramouche is just bitter that I can show [Y/N] my love for them without any issues.” Childe says, gazing at the shorter male with a smirk on his face.

You can almost see electricity crackle between Scaramouche and Childe; the tension was thick and nearly suffocating. You can see Scaramouche’s fist clenched tightly, a faint glow of purple emitting from his tightly clenched fist, a soft crackle of electricity coming from his fist.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we? I believe that we all need some fresh air to clear our minds.” Zhongli spoke up, giving everyone a look.

Everyone knew that look; it was a look that was almost similar to the ones he would give the men whenever one was causing trouble for the others. A silent way to tell the others not to start anything or else they will face the consequences. Scaramouche grumbles before being the first one to leave your bedroom. The others soon follow after him. Baizhu and Albedo stuck by your side to make sure that you could walk down the stairs without stumbling over your own feet and to make sure that you were okay. The walk around the abode was nice and quiet. Sometimes, the men would talk here and there, and Childe and Itto would challenge each other to a spar. But the spar wouldn’t happen because of the look that Diluc, Dainsleif, Zhongli, Xiao, and Ayato were giving them.

“I don’t think it’s best to have a little spar while [Y/N] isn’t feeling well,” Ayato says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And why is that exactly? Aside from their safety, which is understandable.” Kaeya says, glancing over the heir of the Kamisato Clan.

Ayato gestures over to where you, Baizhu, and Albedo are; you are holding onto both Baizhu and Albedo’s arms tightly. You looked really drained and were close to collapsing to the ground. Even though the sixteen of you were walking for about fifteen minutes, the walk seemed to take a toll on you and your body.

“I didn’t think a simple walk could take this much energy out of me.” You grumbled, slowly sitting down on the grassy field of the abode while Baizhu and Albedo made sure that you sat on the ground without hurting yourself.

You wrapped your arms around your legs, let out a yawn, and rested your head on your knees. Albedo sat down beside you, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. You rubbed your eyes with the heel of your hand, mumbling incoherent words to yourself. You didn’t know how long you’ve been in this “condition,” but you just wanted it all to stop so you could do more things outside your bedroom that isn’t sleeping and suffering. You find yourself subconsciously swaying. You laid your head on Albedo’s shoulders, feeling a wave of dizziness hit you.

“I’m going to lay down.�� You sighed, attempting to lay down on the ground.

“There’s no way I’m letting you lay down on the ground like that,” Itto says. He plops down beside Albedo and pulls you onto his lap, cradling you into his arms.

“You’re so comfortable.” You mumble, snuggling into Itto’s bare chest, your eyelids growing heavy. “I don’t want to sleep so much. It makes me even more tired.” You grumbled.

“Should we get the doctors and healers?” Ayato asks, looking over at Baizhu.

Baizhu strokes his chin with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders in response. He squats down beside you and Itto, pressing his hand on your forehead.

“Temperature is on the rise again,” Baizhu mutters, his eyebrows furrowing with worry.

“I think it’s the perfect time to give [Y/N] that cold bath to bring their temperature down!” Venti says, leaning against Zhongli. Zhongli sighs with annoyance, tempted to push the shorter archon off him, but he refrained from doing so.

“Or, we can just put a cold, wet cloth over their forehead to lower their body temperature,” Thoma spoke up, giving Venti a look.

“I think we should ask [Y/N] about which ones they prefer. After all, they should have a say in this.” Gorou commented, crossing his arms over his chest with a small irritated huff of breath.

You were roused from your nap by Albedo and Kazuha shaking you lightly. Itto continues to cradle you in his arms, looking down at you worriedly as you grumble and crack your eyes open. The whites of your eyes were a light red, and your eyes were glossed over as you looked at your surroundings quizzically. Fifteen faces were staring down at you with concern, except for one person. Scaramouche looked annoyed. Oh no, is he going to lash out at you like how he did not too long ago? You hummed softly, sitting up in Itto’s lap as you shook your head. You have no idea how many times you’ve rubbed your eyes so far, but you knew that it wasn’t the best thing to do. You stretched before leaning against Itto, your head resting on his shoulders. Itto felt his cheeks becoming warm when you snuggled up against him. You knew that Itto has the most muscle out of the others, but who knew that this much muscle could be almost as comfortable as your bed?

“What is it?” You hum softly, blinking up at the men before lightly scratching your neck.

“Do you want to take a cold bath, or do you want us to tuck you in bed with a cold, wet cloth over your forehead to bring down your temperature?” Albedo asks, brushing the strands of hair away from your face.

You think for a second. When was the last time you had a nice shower or bath? You debated for a moment, trying to decide whether a bath is better than a shower or not. Since you’re still weak, it’s probably best not to take a shower. A bath is a much safer option since it won’t be possible for you to fall while taking a bath compared to taking a shower.

“I think a bath would be nice. After all, I want to change into something that isn’t… sweaty.” You winced, fanning yourself with your hands. Whatever you had, it was making you feel uncomfortable and sticky with sweat. As if the anemo archon had heard your wishes (I mean, he was standing right there), a cool gust of wind blew on you, making you sigh in relief.

“A nice cold bath it is!” Kazuha says, giving you a soft smile before ruffling your hair.

You give Kazuha a tiny smile and slowly reach up to pinch his cheeks lightly. Kazuha is so cute! You couldn’t help but think back to the time when you first met him and the other fourteen men; it was nice to see how the fifteen men have gotten along with one another since day one. Sometimes you wish you could relive that moment again, but alas, going back in time isn’t possible.

Itto got up from the ground with you in his arms. Before you know it, the men were preparing the bath for you. A nice cold bubble bath to sit in and for it to (hopefully) bring down your body temperature. Technically, it wasn’t supposed to be a bubble bath, but Itto insisted that you should have a bubble bath to make it more fun and less boring. He also states that the bubbles will cover your modesty as they are all sitting in the bathroom, just to make sure that you don’t accidentally drown yourself if you suddenly lose consciousness.

“Wait, you’re all going to be in the bathroom while I’m bathing?!” You squeaked, tightening your grip around the robe you’re wearing.

“We’re making sure that you don’t get hurt while you’re bathing.” Dainsleif sighs, looking away from you. His cheeks were bright red, trying to ignore the fact that he might see you naked.

“We also need to keep track of your temperature,” Diluc adds, sticking his hands into the bathtub to check the temperature of the water. He winces at the cold temperature before pulling his hands out from the bathtub.

“Get in the tub, or else the water will become warm,” Xiao says, pointing at the almost full bathtub. You walked over to where the bathtub sat before grabbing onto the rope of your silk robe. Before you untied the bathrobe, you paused your actions before looking up. The men were watching you intently. You stared back at them, not moving an inch.

“Why are you not going into the bathtub?” Itto asks, crossing his arms over his chest while tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“I’m going to be naked when I take the robe off.” You stated.

“Okay, and?” Childe asks, raising an eyebrow at your comment.

You rolled your eyes, “Turn around and face your back towards me so I can take the robe off without feeling awkward about being naked in front of you all.” You said. The men grumbled at your command before complying. They all turned around, their backs facing you and the bathtub. Before you could untie your bathrobe, Childe was about to turn around before Scaramouche smacked him upside of his head with force, causing Childe to hiss in pain and smack Scaramouche back.

“You fucking pervert,” Scaramouche grumbled, shaking his head with a look of disdain on his face, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He’s the biggest pervert in this abode,” Xiao mutters to Scaramouche, who nods his head in agreement.

You snorted to yourself before untying the rope around your waist. You faced the bathtub and let the silk bathrobe slide from your shoulders, allowing it to pool around your ankles. You dipped your toes into the cold water, shivering at the temperature. You slowly got into the bathtub, letting the bubbles almost engulf your body. You wrapped your arms around your body, shivering at the cold temperature.

“O-Okay, you can all turn around now.” Your teeth chatter, rubbing your arms in the water.

The men all simultaneously turned around and approached where you sat in the tub. Feeling awkward, you almost immediately curled up the more they got closer to you. Sure, the bubbles from the bathtub were covering your nakedness, but it felt awkward to have that many people in the same room as you while you’re butt naked. Kaeya reaches over to the shampoo and conditioner behind you, making you look at him weirdly.

“We’ll be washing your hair also,” Kaeya adds.

“O-Oh, you are? I thought it was only a bubble bath.” You looked at Kaeya owlishly, blinking up at him blankly. “Although I don’t mind getting my hair shampooed and conditioned.” You added as you pulled your knees up to your chest.

For the next fifteen minutes, Kaeya and Diluc took turns washing your hair for you. At first, it was awkward because it meant that they had to get really close to the bathtub to be able to wash your hair for you. Even though you’ve insisted that you could wash your hair on your own, Diluc and Kaeya shook their heads and continued to wash your hair for you.

Just the sight of Diluc and Kaeya with their shirt sleeves rolled up sparked something in you, causing you to become flustered and shy. You had to quickly remind yourself that now was not the time for horny and dirty thoughts to plague your mind. So, you had to swallow those thoughts and act like you weren’t having any weird thoughts about the two men that had volunteered to wash your hair for you.

“Thank you for washing my hair for me.” You said, looking over at Diluc and Kaeya with a faint smile on your face. “Although I could do it myself, you two were persistent in doing it for me.” You added, giving them the side-eye.

“We wanted to do it for you because we didn’t want you to use up all of your energy,” Diluc says, resting his back against your bathtub.

“Plus, we’ll do anything for you to make you happy and relaxed,” Kazuha adds, giving you a small smile.

Relaxed and happy, huh? Interesting. It didn’t seem that way a few days ago before the whole ordeal had happened that landed you in this situation.

You give him a weak smile, but it was hard to do so when the memories of the incident happened. The incident where Scaramouche told you to leave, that you were a burden, that the others didn’t want to deal with you and wanted you just to go away. How ungrateful you are just because you wanted to go to your room and suffer in silence with the pulsing headaches. You know that the men care about you deeply, but the thing that bothers you the most is how they didn’t speak up when Scaramouche was tearing you to pieces. All of them remained silent and watched Scaramouche rip your heart to shreds, telling you to leave and that you were nothing but a burden and ungrateful for what they had done for you. They didn’t even chase after you when you stormed out of the abode and into the storm of Teyvat. They didn’t even call out your name to stop you from leaving. They just let you go, and you took shelter in a cave until Aether and Paimon found you. You wouldn’t have returned to the abode if it weren’t for Aether and Paimon.

You feel your heart clench in your chest, causing your smile to falter. Immediately, the men knew something was wrong the minute your smile dropped. You sighed to yourself and hugged your legs to your chest tighter, feeling tears beginning to flood your eyes. You rested your head on your chin and turned your head away from the men, not wanting them to see you shed a tear. Hot tears slid down your cheeks, dripping into the bathtub.

“[Y/N]? What’s wrong?” Thoma asks softly, placing his hands on your bare back. You wanted to back away from his touch, but you were too tired to do it.

“Was it true?” You whispered, continuing to face the wall as tears continued to trail down your cheeks.

“Was what true?” Venti asks, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you curiously.

You didn’t respond; instead, you bit the inside of your cheeks before shutting your eyes, burying your face into your knees. You didn’t want them to see you like this. Weak, vulnerable, upset, and heartbroken. You dug your nails into your legs, leaving crescent marks in its wake. If only you weren’t easily hurt by the things people say to you. If only you could just disappear completely and never come back. Why did you come back? You could’ve just ignored Aether and Paimon and stayed at Wangshu Inn for who knows how long so that you wouldn’t be a burden to them.

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” Ayato asks softly. His voice seemed to have gotten much closer the longer you kept your face buried into your knees.

“Is it true that I’m nothing but a burden to all of you?” You whispered as your lips trembled as tears continuously slid down your cheeks.

“What?! No! You’re not a burden to us at all!” Gorou exclaims, his ears drooping on his head when he heard faint sniffling coming from you.

“You don’t have to lie; your answer was heard when you all remained silent.” You whisper, turning your head away from them once more before wiping your tears away with trembling hands. “I only came back because Aether and Paimon begged me to return to the abode. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have come back.” You said, turning around to face the tile walls. You stared down at the bubbles in the water, tears dripping from your chin and into the water.

“You never planned on returning to the abode?” Xiao asks. His heart plummets into the pit of his stomach after hearing what you’ve said.

You shook your head, your shoulders slumping as you slowly slid down against the bathtub. How can you be okay with being around someone that didn’t dare to speak up when someone was accusing you of being ungrateful before telling you to leave Teyvat and that you were nothing but a burden to all?

“Why should I come back to the people that only sees me as a burden?” You ask, turning to look at them. “After all, I am ungrateful when it comes to the things you all have done for me.” You laugh bitterly, your vision blurring with tears that would not stop pooling in your eyes.

“[Y/N], please don’t listen to what Scaramouche had said. Everything he said is not true.” Baizhu says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulders.

“All of you remained silent while he rips me to shreds. Just when I thought that all of you would treat me better than those from my world, I ended up being wrong.” You said, glaring at the men through your tears. “I should’ve just end it all when I had the chance.” You whispered, resting your head on the bathtub.

“What do you mean by ending it all?” Zhongli asks, taking a cautious step towards where you sat.

“It wouldn’t matter anyway because what I’m feeling right now— what I’m going through right now, feels like the end.” You chuckled bitterly, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with the palm of your hands.

“Care to explain what you’re implying there?” Dainsleif asks, clenching his fist.

“You’re not going to leave us, are you?” Albedo asks gently, gazing at you sadly.

“I don’t even know anymore, to be honest. I don’t feel welcomed here, and I have nowhere else to go in Teyvat.” You closed your eyes. “I think I’m done with my bath for today. I just want to go to sleep.” You said, unplugging the bathtub drain.

You grabbed your robe from the ground and waited for the others to turn around to give you some privacy to put on your bathrobe. After changing into clean clothes, you sat on your bed while the men stood around you. The silence was deafening and suffocating. You didn’t know what else to say, and they didn’t know what to say to ease your heartache. After all, they were the ones that had hurt you by not stopping Scaramouche from saying something that was far from the truth. How are they going to convince you to stay when you couldn’t get yourself to look at them. Each time you look at them, all they can see is pain and heartbreak in your eyes.

“Okay, I think I’m going to bed now.” You sighed softly, fluffing each of the pillows on your bed.

“It’s a little bit too early to go to bed, don’t you think?” Kaeya asks.

“Yeah, but you know, I’ve been feeling drained. I have little to no energy left in me, especially after the whole crying session I’ve done in the bathroom.” You said, giving them a bitter smile before sighing. “I hate feeling like this. Just when I thought that being in this world would help me escape my negative thoughts, I was wrong.” You ran your fingers through your damp hair.

“All of the negative thoughts that have been pushed into your head are tiring you out,” Diluc says.

“They are, but I’m used to it.” You rubbed your eyes with the heel of your palm.

“Don’t let your negative thoughts get to your head,” Xiao says, frowning at you.

“I wish it was that easy, Xiao.” You gave him a strained smile before wrapping your blanket around your body.

“Can you all leave so I can talk to [Y/N] in private?” Scaramouche speaks up. Your head snapped towards Scaramouche’s direction, eyes widening.

“Why should we? We’re not going to let you insult [Y/N] in private.” Itto says, glaring at the purple-haired Harbinger with his arms over his chest.

“Just do it!” Scaramouche hissed, his jaws clenching shut as he crossed his arms over his chest, the faint sound of electricity crackling in his clenched fist. The fourteen men gave each other looks before glancing over at you. You let out a shaky sigh and nodded your head, letting them know that it was okay for them to leave you and Scaramouche alone in your room. It’s not like something weird will happen between you and Scaramouche, right?

Plus, it doesn’t seem like Scaramouche had any ill intention when telling the others to leave so that he could speak to you in private. Even if Scaramouche were to tell the men to leave your room, the men wouldn’t didn’t plan on leaving entirely. One by one, the men left your bedroom; once the bedroom door closed, they all stood outside of your bedroom door with their ears pressed up against the door.

“What do you want to talk about, Scaramouche?” You sighed softly, looking up at Scaramouche anxiously.

“I wanted to apologize for the things I’ve said to you,” Scaramouche says softly. “The awful things that I’ve said to you, I didn’t mean it at all.” Scaramouche sits down on your bed across from you.

“If you didn’t mean it, then why did you say it?” You whisper.

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling your eyes becoming misty before looking away from Scaramouche. You gripped onto your blanket tightly until your knuckles became white.

“I was angry, and what I said to you what completely out of line. I didn’t mean the things I’ve said, and I truly do apologize for hurting you. Seeing you in pain hurts me. But instead of comforting you and approaching the situation with a clear mind, I let my emotions get to me, and it made me say the things that I can’t take back.” His shoulders drop as he lets out a defeated sigh.

“The things that you’ve said to me really hurt me, Scaramouche. Not only did your words hurt me, but seeing none of the men speaking up hurts me even more.” Tears blur your vision, a lump forming in your throat. “Somethings are meant to be left unsaid, even if you’ve never intended on saying such things.” Warm tears slid down your throat.

You wiped your tears with trembling hands. “What you said to me made me feel worse than how I felt when I was still in my world. People in my world would never say these things to my face. They’ll say it behind my back. But hearing someone I lo— care about say these things to me, to my face, hurts me on another level.” You hiccuped.

Scaramouche was suddenly sitting right in front of you, only much closer than he was previously. Scaramouche gingerly reaches out to your face, wiping your tears away.

“I never meant what I’ve said to you. I really didn’t. I let my anger get the best of me, and I ended up saying the worst things possible in the heat of the moment.” The tip of his thumb brushes your bottom lip softly.

You stared at Scaramouche, not sure what else to say to him. Did he really mean what he said? Was his apology sincere? You blinked up at Scaramouche, only to see that his face was a couple of inches away from yours. His warm breath was fanning your face; a stray tear rolled down your cheeks. Scaramouche brushes the tear away before closing his eyes, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. Your eyes slowly shut when you feel his lips pressed against yours. You pulled away from the kiss, taking deep breaths, only for Scaramouche to press his lips against yours again.

“Scaramouche, I think that’s enough.” You mumble into his lips. Scaramouche gently lays you down on your bed before breaking the kiss between you two. He hovers above you, his arms caging you to your bed. Scaramouche leans down before planting a soft kiss on your lips, slowly laying on top of you. Scaramouche wraps his arms around your waist, pulling away from the kiss before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Please forgive me. I meant what I said when I said that I didn’t mean to say those harsh words to you.” He murmurs against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“I forgive you, Scaramouche.” You whisper, running your fingers through his soft hair.

You felt him smile against your neck; Scaramouche was hovering above you again. He brushes your hair away from your face before leaning down, pressing another light kiss on your forehead and then your lips. Just when your hands were about to reach up to cup his face in your hands, the door slams open, startling both you and Scaramouche. You and Scaramouche look at the entrance of your bedroom, only to see fourteen fuming men staring at the two of you.

“I’m going to kill you, you little shithead!” Childe growls, lunging towards where you and Scaramouche lay, tackling the purple-haired Harbinger to the ground.

You buried your face into your hands while Scaramouche and Childe were shouting at one another, rolling around on the floor. You can feel thirteen pairs of eyes staring holes into your back, causing your face to become red. How are you going to recover from all of this?

Note: Finally! A part two that you all have been dying for! I don't know what to think about this fic, but I hope that you all like the outcome of this fic! I could've gone the angst route with no comfort, but I decided to change that and give you all a less painful ending! I don't know if you guys like this ending more or not, but let me know your thoughts! ^^ I know I said this a lot, but please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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shayminlucario07 · 2 months

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I want to talk about Naberius Tern.

We, The Locked Tomb community, talk a lot about how Babs (AKA Naberius Tern) is awful. Because he is. He is deeply unpleasant, and is viscerally off-putting to the majority of characters in the series- I'm not sure if there's anyone who actually has a positive opinion of him. He's an asshole, and we should treat him as such.

But... that's not his fault.

Something I've seen proposed in a post here on Tumblr (I can't find it and wouldn't know how to link it even if I could, I'm very sorry), which seems to be pretty widely accepted is the idea that, Naberius' proportions being. Basically perfect for the rigidly structured dueling that takes place, is a result of his body being altered by Third House flesh magic to *make* him that way (Likely by Ianthe). But what we don't seem to talk about or acknowledge as much, is...

That's not all that would have been *made* the way it was.

I have seen the theory be proposed that all of Naberius' unpleasant behavior in Gideon the Ninth is simply him attempting to draw attention away from Coronabeth so that she can conceal her lack of necromantic ability (Again, I can't find the post and wouldn't know how to link it if I could, and I am very sorry about that- both posts I've referenced are excellent ideas that make perfect sense and are extremely smart insights!). If this is true, which it very much seems like it is, then it would mean that Naberius has no choice but to be an unpleasant asshole- otherwise, the act he needs to put on to shield Corona wouldn't work. I'm not going to make the claim that Naberius was secretly a good person all along, because that's probably not true, but I think it's important for us to acknowledge the fact that, Naberius Tern has no choice. Naberius Tern has no power. Much has been said about the power imbalance between Necromancer and Cavalier, and about the added layers of nuance to that imbalance in the case of the Necromantic Heirs of Gideon the Ninth- but Naberius is, perhaps, the best possible example. And yes, I say that in spite of Gideon being an indentured servant, knowing full well what that means. While the relationship between Gideon and Harrow is never anywhere remotely close to healthy, Harrow will at least listen to Gideon, ever- though she doesn't do so very often. However, neither Ianthe nor Corona *ever* listen to Naberius. Due to the nature of the Necromancer and Cavalier relationship, the Cavalier has no power by default. There are examples of individual cases where a Necromancer gives power to their Cavalier, such as Camilla and Palamedes, or Abigail and Magnus, or even Judith and Marta, but Ianthe and Corona *do not do this*. In fact, if anything, they have taken away whatever power he may have had, in a very similar way to how Harrow did to Gideon when she kept Gideon trapped on the Ninth- due to Naberius knowing Corona's secret, he *cannot be allowed to have any escape*, in the exact same way as Gideon. He is privy to a secret that could destroy the heir of a house. As such, he is a threat to that house- and his leash cannot be given the slightest bit of slack.

We see at least one example of Naberius seeming to genuinely want something divorced entirely from the Tridentarii. This is when, at the Fifth House's anniversary dinner, he seems to genuinely want to befriend Colum Asht- albeit, in his distinct, asshole Naberius way. And, of course, Colum is visibly discomforted by this, because Naberius is quite unpleasant. However, personally, when I think about this interaction, who I feel the most bad for is Naberius. By all evidence, he seems to be genuinely interested in a friendship with Colum, but this idea is visibly distressing to Colum- and, given the fact that Naberius doesn't have the choice to not be an asshole- at least at Canaan House, due to its public nature- this is a prospect that simply is not available to him, and it isn't even his fault. He is denied the chance at a friendship he seems to genuinely want because of a persona he was *forced* to cultivate.

The final note I want to discuss is probably going to be the least well received, which is frankly understandable- but a sentiment expressed by some characters in the books (Most notably Gideon), and echoed by many fans, is that Naberius' attractiveness is unpleasant. He seems to want people to know that he's hot, and that *he* knows that he is, and he attempts to draw attention to that. He puts time into wearing his hair Pompadour every day, he stretches to show off his abs- and no one cares. He seems to be bothered by this, and it may genuinely be upsetting to him- especially given the fact that, in The Unwanted Guest, it's stated by Ianthe that every ex he's ever had has cheated on him, and that fucks up your self-esteem- but he doesn't actually make a big deal about it. But, the general consensus is that this aspect of Naberius' character makes him particularly unpleasant- and, largely, I think that sentiment comes from our perceptions as the reader being flavored by Gideon's own thoughts, as she is the lens through which we view the events of the book- and Gideon, of course, is a lesbian. She simply does not find men attractive, including Naberius, and she especially seems to find muscular men particularly unattractive, as she describes Protesilaus' muscularity as "Grotesque". Ultimately, her reasoning for this doesn't matter, and it's not a problem- she's perfectly allowed to have that opinion. However, what it has inadvertently lead to- which is further stoked by Naberius' failed efforts to draw attention to his attractiveness, and every character seeming to not find him attractive at all- is that Naberius' attractiveness is, itself, unpleasant; as though that mere fact of his character is a source of unpleasantness. And, to be clear, I can completely understand why someone would find that attitude unpleasant- especially a person who isn't attracted to men, given. You know. The way the world thinks about lesbians, what with patriarchy and all, but this, to me, seems like an example of an odd phenomenon in our modern culture, where men voicing attraction to someone, or attempting to be attractive themselves, is seen as inherently predatory, whereas a woman doing so is not. Now, maybe I'm just wrong- I'll fully admit that's a possibility. I'm a bi/pan cis man, so I definitely do not understand the full nuance of the situation. But, at least the way that I interpreted the book, Naberius *isn't* predatory, he's just kind of conceited? Or, at least, considers his attractiveness to be a major, relevant part of his identity. And, being hot, and trying to be hot, is not inherently predatory- it can make people uncomfortable, but that does not make it *bad*, nor is it *the fault* of the person who is trying to be attractive that the other person was made uncomfortable by them. That's the other person's problem to solve, and not the responsibility of the person who's trying to be attractive, since they're just living their life how they want to. That's true of Naberius, too- it's not a bad thing that Naberius is trying to be attractive, even if he is in a book primarily about lesbians. He has the right to do so- and frankly, given all the shit he's been through, I think he's earned the right to be a bit of a fuckboy.

Anyway, with all that said, my ultimate point is this: While, yes, Naberius Tern is awful and we hate him because he's an asshole, and that's deserved, we also have to be willing to acknowledge the fact that... he doesn't really have any choice BUT to be an asshole, and if he weren't trapped in the *situation* with the Tridentarii, it's entirely possible he wouldn't be an asshole at all. It really isn't his fault that he's deeply unpleasant in so many ways, and that only furthers the tragic nature of his character. And I think that we, as readers and fans of these books, haven't really acknowledged or accepted that. It's actually quite sad that Naberius is so awful, and it's tragic that he ended up that way, whether it was by his own choice or not, whether it was simply a product of his nature or not.

#the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #Ianthe Tridentarius #Coronabeth Tridentarius #Naberius Tern #Sorry for the mountain of text I have a lot of thoughts

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neonacity · 1 year

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BLOOD RED | CH.4 | HAECHAN X READER [FINAL CUT]

Summary: You’re a forensic psychiatrist assigned to one of the country’s high-profile criminals. You want to unravel him, but he’s set on catching you in his web instead.

Warnings [PLEASE READ]: crimes, blood, weapons, toxic dynamics, psychological themes, personality disorder, mental health disorder, dissociative identity disorder, death, smut, semi-public sex, unprotected sex [wrap it, IRL please], sub-Haechan, dom-Haechan, switch!reader, slight breeding kink?, overtimulation, slight sub-space. Reader is torn but consents to everything. Please, please, please, do not interact if you are a minor.

Disclaimer: This work is not meant to romanticize any personality disorders or toxic dynamics. This is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the characters to their real life counterparts. I reserve the rights to all my work and I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr.

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3

“Is the doctor in?”

The soft rap on your door made you look up from the open cardboard box in front of you. Almost instantly, your lips curved into a small smile as your eyes landed on the man currently leaning against the threshold, his arms crossed over his chest. You have no idea how long he had been standing there, but Jungwoo finally gave a soft sigh and let himself in your small office once he finally got your attention.

“I’m pretty booked for the day, but for you I can make some time,” you lightly teased as you waited for him to join you over at your almost empty table. For the past hour, you’ve been hyper-focused on stripping your small office clean of all traces of you. Jungwoo’s eyes roamed around your almost empty space now, his silence loaded.

"So… this is it, huh? A good couple years of your life packed in a single cardboard box?" Your best friend asked lightly as he nodded towards your things. He sounded casual, but you could still make out the tinge of sadness in his tone. You shot him an understanding glance as you lowered a framed photo—an image of you and him—on your pile of belongings.

"Well, I do have half a dozen boxes just filled with documents waiting for me outside, but yeah you're right. These are basically all my valuables."

He fixed an unreadable look on you but didn't say anything else. You can't really blame him for feeling a little out of it, to be honest. After weeks of obsessing over a case, your decision to let go of it AND resign from your post at the police department seemed like a punch out of nowhere. You know Jungwoo is not particularly against the move, but you also doubt he was expecting you to entirely step off. He’s never asked you the whys behind all of it since you told him that you’re leaving, and for that, you’re incredibly thankful.

"So, can I know now if something happened? Now that you are officially leaving?"

Well… Until now.

Your hand froze in the middle of trying to fix your piled books almost immediately. You didn't need to look up to know that your best friend was staring at you—and you did not dare meet his eyes out of fear of him seeing through your front. With a soft clearing of your throat, you closed the lid of your box and started fumbling for a tape to seal it.

"Didn't you want me to stop?"

"That's not answering the question and you know it."

You were trying your best to keep any emotion from giving you away, but you still couldn't help the slight tremble of your hands as you tried not to drop what you were holding. As much as you hated it, the question was enough to trigger memories that were still so vivid you could almost taste them in your tongue.

His blood red hair.

Hot breath fanning your skin.

Long, graceful fingers… Buried in the deepest parts of you.

"Nothing happened." Your voice sounded stiff and painfully unnatural when you answered. To your ears, it seemed like you were convincing yourself—and you have no doubt Jungwoo heard the same. The way he looked at you almost made you want to curl up on yourself, and you coped by avoiding his probing gaze.

"I just realized you were right," you continued before he could even have a chance to say something again. "It wasn't healthy for me anymore so I decided to just step back a little bit."

Lies.

"To be honest, I don't think it was just his case. My job… It can get too much and I've been working non-stop for years. I figured it was time for me to take a quick break. Just unload things and have a clean slate."

Oh, darling. You weren't tired. You are scared.

"Besides, his case is done. I've done my part and I didn’t need to be unnecessarily involved with him anymore."

Scared of him.

"So I'm letting go. It's the best decision for me."

…And of yourself.

The tearing sound of the packaging tape as you sealed your box shut silenced the unwelcome voice in your head. The truth is that you've been fighting so hard to keep yourself together ever since what happened in the interview room. The incident confirmed something that you’ve always known all along but tried desperately to deny. That boy is after you, and you need to run as far away from him as possible before it’s too late.

"What's your plan now? Where are you going?"

Jungwoo's change of topic restarted your breath and brought you back to the room. You shrugged and gave him a small smile.

"I don't know. The plan is to not have a plan. I will probably leave the city for a bit. Vacation somewhere and stay there for a few months."

"So… that means I won't be seeing you for a while… right?"

The hesitance in his tone made you momentarily pause. Before now, he’s never really opened the topic of goodbyes. Not that you couldn’t blame him when you couldn’t do the same, but you both know it’s something the two of you would have to talk about before you left. You may have only known Jungwoo for a few years, but he is closest to what you have as a family. As hard as it is, deciding to leave this place also means giving up your connection with him, albeit temporarily.

"I will be back. Of course, you'll see me again. I can't shake you off just as much as you can't get rid of me,” you said now as you reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. He didn’t look the least bit convinced, but smiled anyway. Slowly, he wound his fingers with yours and pulled you into a hug. You laughed with him as he rocked the two of you slightly in place.

"I guess I'll have to give you your 'I have to go and find myself again' moment then. As long as you promise you'll be back."

He didn't see it, but your smile froze and wavered at the edges with what he said. At the back of your head, the same voice you’ve been trying to push back nagged and jeered at you again.

Find herself again? Oh, darling...

She’s leaving to escape from it.

Your arms held on tighter around Jungwoo for a moment before you forced yourself to let him go.

"I promise. I’ll be back before you even know it."

******* Thud.

Thud.

Dark brown eyes stared blankly at the black rubber stress ball as it bounced between the wall and into the ready palm of its thrower. Donghyuck caught it in his hand effortlessly, having already perfectly calculated his throw. The chill of the rough cement was sharp against his back, but his mind was not at all in the small four corners of his jail cell. He threw the ball again, harder this time, and the impact it made against the wall made a louder bang that reminded him of the day that changed his life forever.

'They' were only sixteen years old.

It happened one snowy day, while he was on duty as a proxy cleaner for one of the most expensive hotels in town. Back then, he and Haechan survived by jumping from one job to the next, switching between each other depending on whatever front was required of them. More social set-ups would have Haechan take over because he is a better speaker, but situations that are more labor-intensive have him, Donghyuck, taking control.

That night, it was him on the ‘spotlight,’ because Haechan couldn’t care less to spend hours scrubbing the floor clean. It was a slow shift, and he remembers mindlessly doing his job on autopilot as he whiled away the remaining hours in his duty. The front desk was still open for the evening, so when he looked up to see a black-clad figure step into the lobby, he didn’t think too much about it at first. However, he was curious enough to watch the new guest as they crossed the entrance, their black hooded coat sweeping the floor as their boots silently led them to the middle of the hall. It was only for a split second when he saw something silver glimmer under the stranger’s jacket... before the floor he was standing on shook as a loud explosion tore the room in half.

The initial impact was strong enough to throw him on the ground. He remembers the shrill ringing in his ears as he tried to pick himself up from the floor and the painful cries of the wrecked bodies that unfortunately got the brunt of the explosion. It was a horrific scene—with the smell of burning flesh and cement raining down on him—but he had half the mind to drag himself away from the thick of the billowing smoke despite the splitting pain on his side. One of his ears have turned temporarily deaf and his had started to water from the stinging fumes billowing in the air.

"Terrorist!"

"There's a bomber on the loose! Someone call the pol—"

A sickening thud cut off the breath of one of the moving survivors just a few feet away from him. Looking up in horror at the direction of the sound, Donghyuck watched as a silhouette stepped out from the settling smoke and rubble, their leather gloved hand still holding up their smoking gun. The person was the same hooded stranger he was watching earlier, but now they had their face covered in what looked like a black ski mask. Momentarily, his eyes zoned in on the small chip at the underside of the stranger’s face cover—a damage probably caused by the explosion—but his attention was ultimately distracted when he started feeling Haechan panic in his head. Gritting his teeth, he tried his best to push him back before the boy could even take over.

Donghyuck, what's happening there?

He ignored him, his eyes set instead on the figure in front. The person was still looking at the now dead body a little ways from him, gun still up in the air. There was something unnatural about the way the attacker stood—unmoving, as if they were a soulless statue. Donghyuck sat there, petrified, afraid to move out of fear of catching the gunman’s attention.

Donghyuck—

Shut the fuck up. If you want to survive, keep your mouth shut.

The exchange happened in his head, but it almost seemed like he said it out loud with the way the black figure turned towards him. Donghyuck felt his blood freeze in his veins the moment their eyes met. With sickening slowness, he watched as the stranger moved their arm and pointed the nose of their gun right at his head. He raised his hands shakily in response, his heart beating hard against his throat. He didn’t dare breathe and he waited painfully as seconds passed in silence, one heavier and more frightening than the last.

This is it.

One click. And then he's done for.

"Stop it. That's enough!"

He froze the same time the other did when he heard a new voice. Frowning in confusion, he watched as the person slightly looked back towards the settling smoke behind them. He could barely see through the mess himself, but he kept his breath bated as he watched things unfold.

"We have to kill him. He saw us," a lower voice answered the first. Donghyuck's eyes widened, this time for an entirely different reason. Realization slowly sank on him like the sharp shrapnels of debris cutting up his knee and palms.

This person…

They're not alone.

"No! You've caused enough damage already. We need to go—"

"Or else what?"

"Or else I'll shoot you myself."

The silence that followed was like a death sentence. It seemed like everyone and everything came to a standstill, him included as he stayed unmoving on his spot. Inside of his head, Haechan was also quiet, though he couldn't care less about the boy at the moment as they both watched the scene play out in front of them. For a while, nobody moved or said anything, until finally, the masked figure slowly turned their attention towards him again.

"Let him go."

"Why?"

"Just do it. We need to get out of here before the police comes."

One second. Two. Death for them is still a trigger away.

Three seconds. Four. Finally—

Click.

Donghyuck closed his eyes and waited for the splitting pain from the bullet cracking his skull open. However, he was soon opening them again when he heard soft laughter come from somewhere. He watched, stupefied, as the person lowered their gun to their side with an amused tilt of their head.

"Empty barrel. Lucky you."

It felt like his heart stopped and restarted again repeatedly in the next few seconds that followed. The person in front of him gave him one last assessing look before sheathing their gun back to their waist holster and pulling a new one. Instead of pointing it at him though, they stepped back and turned to leave.

"Looks like you live today, kid."

That was the last he could remember before the black-clad stranger disappeared again in the smoke.

That, and a fiery glimpse of red.

"You do know that whatever happens to your case, you'll end up dead, won't you?"

Donghyuck barely moved his eyes towards the sniveling guard peering at him now from between the thick bars of his cell. He was so caught up in his head that he didn't realize he wasn't alone, but he honestly couldn't care even as the man openly snarled at him from the safety of the hall. It doesn't come as a surprise for him that most of the prison staff hated him, knowing what he has done and the kind of plea his case was bargaining on.

"You think so?" He asked calmly back with only the slightest tilt of his head. The evident lack of concern in him only made the guard bristle more.

"I don't care what those stupid doctors and lawyers say. We know you're faking it. Even if they throw you in a psychiatric ward, someone there is already waiting to put a knife in your neck. You'll be dead meat in no time."

He listened to him quietly, expression never changing. The man is right. Never did he think there is a good end for him regardless of whether he gets thrown in jail or in a mental ward. But then again… who said he was planning to stay on either one?

Slowly, the corner of his lips tipped into a smile. He threw the ball one last time against the wall and caught it cleanly in his palm.

"Oh, I'm sure someone will end up dead soon…"

"But it's not going to be me."

******* The cacaphony of noises seemed like something straight from a nightmare. If he didn’t know better, Haechan would have thought he was dreaming as screams and the sizzling sound of melting metal filled the once dead silence of the prison. Instead, he calmly opened his eyes and sat up on his bed just as another resounding explosion shook the walls of the building. Beyond his bars, his guard on duty stumbled backwards, hands shaking as he raised his armalite towards the hallway. His face was streaked with fear, the opposite of the amused and knowing smile that crossed his.

Finally. It’s happening.

“Who the fuck—”

The poor man didn’t even get the chance to finish as a small silver cylinder came rolling between his feet from out of nowhere. Seeing it, Haechan quickly slid off from his bed and went to the other side of his room where he flipped back a small table to duck behind it. He took cover just in time as another explosion shook the ground, this time just outside of his cell. It wasn’t as loud as the previous one, but what it lacked in impact was compensated by the piercing screams of the guard now writhing on the floor. Peering through the smoke, he tightened his hold over the fistful of his shirt that he had clamped over his nose and mouth to keep the sharp fumes from getting to his system. It was the same smoke that wrapped him six years ago, a signature attack move that only one person, other than him, can pull off.

Smoke bomb. And…

“Acid. Don’t worry, you’ll have at least three more minutes before you die.”

As if the scene was the exact repeat of that night at the hotel, Haechan felt himself freeze at the sound of the same cold voice that he heard back then. Unlike before when he was gripped by fear, however, his heart started drumming harder in his chest instead. Even with the heavy smoke still clinging in the air, he stood up from his hiding place to come face to face with the silhouette that had haunted his dreams for years. He watched, entranced, as long fingers slowly pried off their black mask, revealing a face that made his blood burn hot in his veins.

“Hello, kid. Long time no see.”

Blood red lips slowly smiled at him, beautiful and sinister at the same time.

******* Some would call it obsession.

He calls it loyalty. Maybe even love.

What do you do when you meet someone exactly just like you after a life of isolation? When you are given the window to find your pair after years of suffering alone, you don’t let that chance go. No… You kick that window open, maybe break it down, even by force.

That is exactly the route he took the night that he met her. Ironically, the day he thought he would die was the same one where he felt the most alive. He wasn’t only given the chance to continue living when she decided to spare his life, she gave him a new purpose, too. He knew it the moment he saw her speaking to herself, her voice changing in pitches and tone as she stood there alone in the middle of the carnage she caused. She was exactly just like him… Maybe even worse.

To give her credit, she was a true master of her craft. It took him months to find out clues of who she could be—and even until now, he doubts he would have tracked her down if her mask didn’t accidentally tear that night. In a way, she dug her own grave when it came to him. When she decided not to kill him, she also gave him an invite to tear that proverbial window open and turn it into a fucking door.

In the years that followed, he made sure to keep tabs on her. She provided a certain kind of twisted assurance that he is not alone in his madness, that there is someone probably more fucked up than him in this world. She became his heroin, and oh did he make sure he got his fix. It started with him doing everything he could to know more about her, until he decided it wasn’t enough and he needed to get close to her. Gradually he resorted to following her around, close enough to stave off his hunger but still far to keep himself at a safe distance. It was also during this time when he found out that he had an innate skill of being someone’s shadow, a talent that lets him get into someone’s head if he really wanted to probe.

For years he was alright with the way their lives were entangled. Yes, he craved for her, but he also enjoyed the anonymity that his cover provided as he continued worshipping her from a distance. He was satisfied with what he had, that is, until the time came when she suddenly decided she wanted out.

When he first realized that she stopped, it was like his life had gone entirely dark again. She was his lifeline so it entirely threw him off orbit when the woman he came to know started slipping from between his fingers. It scared him to think that she was turning her back on their shared madness, that she’s cutting the cord that connected him to her. When you’re like him who started to love someone for their fire, you would do anything just to keep those flames burning.

And so he burned. He wanted her to see the beauty of her madness, so he made a decision that was in all ways mad but made the most sense to him. He took on the mantle she left, copying everything she used to do from what he had learned as her shadow. It didn’t matter to him if she decided to stop, he would make sure that he continues until she would have no other choice but to see marks of her everywhere she looks. So for years that’s what he did, hoping his next crime would make her come back to the life meant for her. He orchestrated discord after discord, ripping cities apart and leaving wreckage in his wake. He didn’t have any rhyme or reason for his plans, all except for the goal of getting her back.

That went on for years and years. Every new crime he committed was worse than the last as his desperation and longing for her grew. Ironically, she found herself a job in the police department, which should have played in his favor because it means the world she is now living in is not entirely detached from his. He laid all the right traps for her, but not one of them caught her attention.

And then, the realization finally hit him.

She’s not coming back not because she doesn’t see them.

It’s because she had learned to forget.

He didn’t think it possible at first. He didn’t know how she did it, because despite the torture he had to live with, it never crossed his mind to suppress any side of him. He may be a broken man, yes, but that brokenness is also what made him survive. The thought of her banishing her other half when she could be so much more powerful was his last straw. Bitterly, it sank to him how he would never be able to catch her, unless he changes his course. It was a dangerous option, but one he was willing to put his bets on.

If he can’t run after her, then he’ll make her come to him instead.

All of his carefully laid out plans brought him now to this moment, standing face to face with the woman he’d spent years trying to catch. The pair of eyes that stared back at him now were sharp and calculating, a far cry from the gaze of the girl who wanted to try and ‘fix’ him. The person in front of him now reeked of coldness and ruthlessness, a force willing to burn anything on her path should she want to.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there and stare at me like a fool? Isn’t this what you wanted, Donghyuck? To tease me out?” she was the first one who broke the silence as he stayed petrified on his spot. Even the sound of her voice alone made his stomach twist in knots.

“Circe,” he answered in a whisper, his gaze unwavering on her. “That’s what I’ve always called you in my head.”

Her brow lifted curiously at his reply.

“What?”

“The goddess of poisons and transformations. I don’t think The Apothecarist fits you. The name is too rough. Ugly.”

The way her lips quirked made a thrill run deep into his bones. As someone who had always been on the other side of power, it is an indescribable feeling to finally stare someone down of the same footing. His blood thrummed heavily in his veins as she slightly leaned her head to side to size him up. When she stepped over the now melted bars of his jail and started stalking towards him, ne watched her breathlessly as if he was afraid that she would disappear again.

“You… You’re not Donghyuck, aren’t you?” her eyes, shining with dark amusement, danced across his features as she stopped just inches away from him. His breath tickled her skin, eyes dropping towards her lips painted in the same blood red he’d always loved on her. “It was never him who was after me… It was you all along...”

“Haechan.”

For the first time, Haechan finally allowed himself to smile. Of course, she would know. He could fool the world about how much of an innocent victim he is, except for her. Donghyuck had always been the stronger and violent one, but he is still the core. The madness was born from him. The madness is and will always be him.

“I had to do something. I was getting tired running after you so much,” he said, his voice soft and almost longing. Now that he can drop the act, it was like every single emotion he had for her was magnified. There was excitement. Surrender. Love.

Arousal.

As if she read what’s on his head, her lips curved more into a slow, knowing smirk. Haechan tried to keep himself from melting as he watched her slowly lift her hands and start to graze her fingers down his chest. She knew exactly her effect on him, knew exactly how her presence alone can slowly undo him by the seams.

“You were very persistent. She worked so hard on keeping me suppressed for years, but you knew the right buttons to push. All those years of study and training to tie me down, gone because of you. It’s… evil. You ripped her safety from her.”

Haechan knew he should feel a strain of guilt, but he couldn’t, not with the way she was pinning him with her gaze. Everything about her screams power and control, and it took him everything not to melt to his knees and kiss the ground she’s standing on. His body was already on fire and she had barely even touched him.

“Where is she now?” he managed to ask despite the growing heat consuming his veins slowly like poison. She chuckled in answer as her nails started to graze the waistband of his pants. In that moment, Haechan became even more painfully aware of how tight he felt in them, his hardness already straining under the fabric. He felt almost pathetic at how his body reacted just by being close to her.

“Sleeping. She was able to erase me from her memory so she could lock me up somewhere. Unfortunately for her, forgetting about me doesn’t mean cutting off my existence.” She sighed softly as a wistful but satiated expression danced across her face. “I guess in a way… I have you to thank for releasing me again. Sparing your life a few years ago wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Haechan tried to swallow back the taste of bitter guilt that stained his tongue. He was hyperaware of the way her fingers moved lower and lower, and he flinched when her knuckles finally grazed the curve of his still clothed cock. His reaction earned a laugh from her as he tried to hold back the yearning moan wanting to escape his throat.

“She’s… She’s still there, right? You won’t chase her away?”

At first he didn’t think she heard his question as she forewent giving an answer to finally pulling the fabric separating her hand from his waiting dick. Effortlessly, his length sprung free in her hand, hard and hot against her ice cold palm. The contrast of their body temperature made him hiss, but she paid him no mind as she quickly wrapped his fingers around him and gave his cock a squeeze. She then started running his thumb in gentle circles around the head of his dick, a satisfied smile twisting her lips as more pre-cum started leaking from him. Haechan cursed and stumbled a little backwards at the overload of emotions, the back of his head pressing against the wall while he tried his best not fall to his knees.

“How rude. I’m about to beat your meat and you’re here asking for another woman… I thought you wanted me. Or is it Donghyuck who wants her?”

She phrased it as a question, but the dancing amusement in her eyes when he met her gaze told him she had seen through him from the start. Haechan felt Donghyuck stir inside of him, but he tried to push him back by grabbing her hips and digging his nails on her as a distraction.

“We want all of you.”

The satisfied hum she gave was like music to his ears. Slowly, she started grinding against him, his now stiff cock pressed against her stomach as she used his arousal to smoothly work his length with her fingers. She alternated between pumping and twisting his cock, stopping every now and then to cup his balls now heavy with his arousal. He was on the verge of begging to let him feel her when all of a sudden, she guided one of his hands to the zip on the back of her protective suit. Taking that as a clear invite, Haechan quickly pulled it down and started pushing her clothes off with his trembling hands. She laughed at his desperation, but managed to gracefully step out of them without almost missing a beat from pumping his cock.

“Your clothes. Off,” she ordered as she momentarily let him go. Quickly, he scrambled out of his uniform while she worked on undoing the last of her undergarments. By the time Haechan grabbed pulled her hips in again, her hands were once more wrapped around his cock.

The feel of their bare skin pressing against each other made them both break off into moans. He closed his eyes from bliss, but soon enough he was cursing as she felt a different kind of warmth wrap around his tip. Looking down, his eyes widened as he watched her start to use his cock to play with her clit, his head slipping between her folds shallowly again and again. She was teasing him... using him for her own pleasure like it was the only thing he deserved. Painfully, he dug his teeth against his lower lip just to keep himself from grabbing her right then and there and burying the rest of him inside of her to the hilt.

Her soft laughter as she watched his torture barely pierced through the growing haziness of his mind.

“You’re so pathetic. You want to fuck me so bad even with people dying around you?”

Her words barely made sense to him, but he somehow managed to open his eyes again before he finally snapped. Unwittingly, his gaze landed on a mass on the floor outside of his cell, the dead carcass of the guard with half his body melted off by the acid. It was a gruesome sight but instead of flinching back in discomfort like how he would usually do, Haechan felt himself stiffen instead. He took the image in...

Until finally, he snapped.

He didn’t know what got into him, but in that moment, the combined smell of smoke, acid, and death dissolved the remaining rational thoughts in his head. It was sick how his body reacted to the carnage around him, but he didn’t dare question it anymore as he fully allowed his instincts to take over. As if a switch was flipped inside of him, he suddenly grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to his bed without warning, before pushing her roughly towards the thin mattress. The suddenness of his actions obviously shocked her too, because it took a second before she tried to pick herself up again. She had barely only managed to prop herself up when he circled one of his hands around her ankles and dragged her unceremoniously on top of the bed until she was bent on all fours. The next sound that tore the room were their collective gasps as he unceremoniously buried his cock inside of her, filling her to the hilt.

“W-Wait. Haechan—”

“Fuck... Fuck.”

Her words barely pierced through the bliss that washed over him as her velvety walls swallowed the rest of him. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, he moved to hunch over her form until he was almost draped over her back. His body loomed over her smaller frame and his fingers desperately tried to find something to anchor on by grabbing her hips. Slowly but deliberately, he grinded himself deeper inside of her, not stopping until he was sure she could almost taste his cock in her stomach.

“You’re so fucking tight for me,” he growled through gritted teeth. She made a sound torn between a yearning moan and a sob as he slowly but deliberately pulled himself back, the veins of his cock running through her walls.

"Don't move yet. I'm—"

Her voice cut off into a half scream when he all of a sudden slammed himself inside of her again. The force of his thrust almost made her collapse, but Haechan wrapped one of his arms around her waist to keep her steady. Grunting, he pressed his lips against her shoulder as he pulled back again before burying the rest of him inside of her. His balls slapped against her ass, adding to the sickening sounds now filling the room.

"Noona. You feel so good. I can't help myself."

Maybe it's the way he started letting his primal instincts take control, or the way his voice sounded low but whiny in her ear, but he felt her walls squeeze around him tighter for a good few seconds. She clamped so tightly around him that he actually had to stop thrusting for a moment, his body almost shutting down from the pleasure that almost made him nut inside of her. She can act all she wanted, but he knew she was enjoying this just as much as he does. Slowly, he tried changing his pace into deeper strokes to make himself last. Her body reacted to it almost immediately and she reached back to try and push him back slightly.

"Too deep—stop. You’ll make cum."

A low growl came from him as her words went straight to his dick. Instead of stopping, Haechan maneuvered himself on top of her and pushed her down until her legs gave way and she was pressed flat on her stomach against the mattress. Barely missing a beat, he lifted himself up again and planted both his feet on the sides of her hips before plunging deep inside of her again and again and again. The new angle let him reach new parts of her that made the two of them curse at the same time.

"Take it. Just take it," he growled as he grabbed her hips to give himself more leverage. He was beyond saving at this point, his primal instincts taking over as he pummeled her again and again from above like an animal. In that moment, all his desires were concentrated on only one thing. To finally claim her once and for all.

Haechan was so lost on the power that he had over her that he barely noticed when she slowly lowered her hand that had been trying push him back. Looking down on the smooth skin of her back, his relief was shattered when a choke of pain was all of a sudden torn from his lips. Just when he thought she couldn’t get any tighter, her walls started squeezing him so tightly it almost was impossible for him to pull back again without being in pain. He whimpered as his thrusts started losing pace from the rhythmic clamping of her walls.

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted to fuck me.”

Her voice was taunting, and he didn’t dare answer back as he finally realized the gravity of the situation. He was never in control. He could only take what he wants from her if she lets him do so.

"I-I want to cum, noona.”

Her low laughter made goosebumps erupt all over his body.

“You can’t until I say so.”

He choked back a pitying groan as he pressed his body closer against her. Unable to help himself, he settled in making shallow, aborted thrusts just to keep himself from filling her up with his seed. Below him, her walls also started fluttering around him more uncontrollably, a sign that she was also on the verge of her own release.

"B-But I'm so close. Noona—"

"I don't fucking care. You think you could just get whatever you want from me? You’re not allowed to cum until I’m done."

A shuddering gasp left him at the order. At this point, he was almost mad with need, but there was also a part of him that wanted to see her come undone first. Wincing from how heavy his balls had gotten, he tried to slam harder inside of her again and again. He was in pain, but the sounds she started to make was enough to stave off his desperation for his release.

“There. Right there. Deeper. Harder.”

Her coaxing made a string of curses spill from his lips as he did exactly what she said. When a louder whine left her after a particularly deep stroke, Haechan knew that he finally found her sweet spot.

"Is this it, noona? You’ve gotten so much tighter. You're near. I know it," he said, whispered against her shoulder as she shuddered under his weight. When her hips slightly lifted to start matching his pace, he took it as his chance to slip his fingers down and draw circles around her clit. It wasn’t long until finally, she buried her face entirely on the mattress to try and suppress her screams. She barely succeeded when her body finally locked around his cock as her orgasm hit.

“H-Haechan. Haechan—!”

He kissed her temple and let his hot breath wash over her cheeks as he whispered sweetly to her ear.

"Noona, I love you."

It took a while before her body finally stopped convulsing around him. Through her high, his hips didn’t stop moving at all, stroking her insides to prolong her pleasure for as long as she could hold on to it. By the time he felt her body relax around him, he was already half mad from desperation for his own release. She noticed, because he was almost sure he heard her give a soft chuckle beneath him even in her exhaustion.

"Noona, please—"

"Do you want to cum, baby?"

The term of endearment almost made him collapse and lose his last strand of control. Nodding wordlessly, another whimper left him as he felt the knot on his tighten.

"Please, please, please let me cum."

"Where do you want to finish?"

"I-Inside…"

"Mm… Do you think you deserve it?"

"Yes. Shit. Yes."

A pause.

"Then cum. Fill me up."

The sound that was ripped out of him was almost inhuman. Eyes squeezing shut, his body stiffened on top of her before he convulsed as he started emptying his balls straight to her womb. He pinned her down with his body weight, not caring for a moment about anything else other than flooding her to the brim. The way he throbbed inside of her must have set her off again, because not long after he was finishing, her walls started fluttering around him again. By the time the two of them have gotten off their high, they were both exhausted and shivering from the after shocks of their climax. Tiredly, Haechan pressed another kiss at the corner of her lips as his vision started to blur.

Exhaustion started taking over him, fast and swift. He was on the verge of blacking out when he realized what was happening, the all too familiar darkness taking over him just as he heard his voice.

Play time's over.

My turn.

******* It felt like waking up in an entirely different reality altogether.

The last memory you could remember was of you, sitting in front of the small vanity in your room. You were cleaning up the polaroids that you've pasted there, when out of nowhere your reflection caught your attention. You weren’t sure what it is that made you stop and stare, but for a split second, you thought you almost didn’t recognize the girl looking back at you. The pale yellowish light of the lamp on your bedside table didn’t really do any favors to your already tired features and you sighed before slightly shaking your head and tearing your gaze away from your reflection. Of course you were just imagining things. Gathering the photos in your hands, you then pushed back from your seat and stood up from the table.

You were just about to step away when something from your peripheral vision caught your attention. A chill ran down your spine as you slowly turned your head back from where you were standing. You knew it before your gaze even clashed with your reflection again, but it still didn’t keep your heart from dropping when your eyes landed on the perfect image you...

Still sitting in front of the vanity, with blood red lips tipped into a smile. The girl in the mirror bared her teeth into a full on smirk.

And then everything faded to black.

You now stirred in the same dark void you were cast into as your consciousness slowly caught up with you. You have no idea where you are, but you are vaguely aware of muted sounds and smells that seem to be hovering around you. You frowned and tried to reach your hand in the darkness, only for your fingers to close around air.

Oh hello there. I wasn’t expecting you to be waking up so soon. Are you here to join the fun?

You stilled at the sound of the voice that punctured the silence surrounding you. It was a woman, and it sounded close enough that you thought you actually felt it come from all around you. Confused, you turned your head from side to side to try and see who it belongs to.

Who are you...?

A soft chuckle came on, and then the woman was speaking again, this time closer to where you are. You were starting to panic, especially since you still couldn’t see anything at all. You know that voice... You’ve heard it before.

Oh? Are we still playing this game?

Her lilting, almost taunting tone finally made you flinch. As if her voice alone unlocked something inside of you, memories started creeping in like poison to your veins.

No. No, this can’t be. You’re...

Back. I am back. Did you miss me, darling?

A sense of overwhelming fear washed over you, reducing you into a shaking mess. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, only for you to realize that you have no body at all. You were... nothing. Just a part of the darkness that you’ve been trying to grab on.

What have you done to me?

Nothing yet. I’m just taking over for a while. You’ll let me right? After all, you’ve been hogging the spotlight to yourself for ages.

You’re not real. You’re not real.

Aww, you're hurting my feelings.

I've banished you. You can't be here!

Silence dropped around you, heavy and suffocating. You could hear your heart drumming against your chest, like a bird trying to escape its cage. When she finally spoke again, you felt fear wrap around you, invisible but strong.

You can’t run away from me forever, and you know that. If you want to kill me, you’ll have to kill yourself first. You and I, we are the same... No matter how hard you try to suppress me.

No… Please. Please, go away.

I am not going anywhere.

Let me go, let me wake up.

I don't think that's what you want right now.

Wake up.

Wake up!

Your eyes shot open the same time your chest swelled from the sudden breath that filled your lungs. As if a dial was turned, the muted sounds you could hear earlier from far away came into focus all at once—that, and a weight in your chest you still couldn’t understand. It took you a moment, but your vision finally focused in front of you even in the midst of your confusion. The moment you realized what you were looking at, your heart sank again to the pits of your stomach.

Donghyuck's smirk widened just as he buried his fingers deep in your cunt.

"Finally. I've been waiting for you."

******* You were convinced you've finally gone insane.

Your body writhed from the combined shock and pleasure as everything crashed on you all at once. It felt like there were two separate halves of you at the moment—your mind that was recoiling from confusion over what was happening, and your body which seemed to be caught and locked under the delicious runs of pleasure coursing through it in waves. Reaching out, your hands automatically closed around Donghyuck's wrist as he continued fucking you with his fingers. You have no idea how long he’d been at it, but all of a sudden, you were painfully hyper aware of the mess now coating the insides of your thighs and staining the bed under you. The smell of sweat, smoke, and sex filled the air, and there was also a feeling of tightness in your stomach that you know could only mean one thing.

You're seconds away from cumming, and no, this isn't going to be the first time you’re doing it tonight.

Your moans came in broken gasps and whines as your lower body twitched under his hold. He wasn't grabbing you into submission or forcing you down, and yet you felt weak under him, unable to push him away. Over you, his gaze pinned you on the spot as he peered at you from between the deep red locks that have fallen over his forehead. He was beautiful and terrifying, the exact personification of her worst nightmare and her sweetest dream come to life.

"P-please…"

His lips curved gently into a smile before he leaned over to run his nose down the arch of your jaw. The gentleness of his gesture threw you off, causing your fingers to tighten around his wrist that was still snapping in and out of you.

“Please what? Do you want me to stop?”

Instead of giving him an answer, you felt your walls tighten around his fingers in response. You were absolutely broken, your mind wanting one thing while your body begged for another. Donghyuck must have sensed your dilemma because he paused momentarily to scissor his long fingers inside of you, before pushing back and digging them against the spongy spot that always made your toes curl. You screamed in response, spots of white blooming from behind your closed eyelids.

"Come on. I'm doing you a favor. Haechan couldn't be bothered to do this earlier."

Your mind numbed at his words. Haechan? What does he mean by that? You and him... Did you two just...

"I'm cumming.” Whatever thoughts were swirling in your head disappeared as your lips formed the words before you could even realize what they mean. You barely even had the chance to brace yourself as your body suddenly locked around him, squeezing around his fingers that continued to stroke your walls. Waves and waves of pleasure like you’ve never tasted before made you tremble, unbound and raw. At the back of your pleasure-muddled mind, you knew your undoing was also your surrender—a fact that he also knows as you felt him smile against your skin as he helped you ride your high. Every now and then he would nip at your jaw in satisfaction and whisper something against your skin you couldn’t even catch anymore. It felt like every cell of your being was burning, and you were being torn apart and put together again and again under his mercy.

That lasted for a moment, until your body seemed to have finally reached its limit and started softening around him. The pleasure left you shivering though and your eyes fluttered close as your chest heaved to catch your breath. You were still trying to wrap your head around what happened, when all of a sudden, you felt him pull his fingers out of you. The sudden loss of fullness made you wince, but you were soon moving on from it, with what he did next. Without warning, he lifted your legs up and hooked his arms under them until your lower back lifted at an angle from the mattress. That immediately made your eyes open as you realized what he was about to do.

"W-wait. What are you—"

Donghyuck answered by propping himself up on one hand for balance and grabbing his cock to guide to your folds. He didn’t bury himself in you, but he pushed just enough for you to feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance.

"Say no if you don't want this. Again, just say it and I'll stop."

A shiver ran down your spine at his gravelly tone. He was running his tip against your slippery folds in slow circles, but he didn't push any deeper just as he promised. You know he wanted nothing more than to sink himself in you from the way he trembled, but he braced himself, waiting for your answer. He was giving you a choice… A chance to escape.

Except you don't want to.

No. You want this. Just as much as he does.

"Last chance. At the count of three."

"One."

Your body stiffened as you felt him slip an inch into your wetness. Your hold on his stomach remained, but you did nothing else to push him back.

"Two," a few more inches in made the two of you break off into moans in unison. He was shaking on top of you harder now from the strain and you reacted by finally moving your hands to circle on his neck instead. Your silent reaction was his last straw and he gave a low growl before he finally let go.

"Three.”

He sheathed himself inside of you completely and deeply, like a puzzle finally fitting in.

"Fuck. That's my fucking good girl."

The sound that you made was unlike anything you’ve ever heard yourself make before. The moment he filled you to the brim, your legs locked around his waist, heels digging against his back to push him deeper inside of you. Everything was happening too fast, but all you could think of was the delicious burn of him splitting you and the way his cock perfectly kissed the deepest part of you. He perfectly fit inside of you, that you did not only feel full.

You felt complete, finally.

"Please. Donghyuck."

His name leaving you made him freeze on top of you. You were about to beg him to start moving, when all of a sudden, he grabbed both your arms and pinned them painfully to your sides. Shocked, you watched as he reared back, his eyes wild with a fire that made your breath caught in your throat. The way he looked at you made the knot in your stomach curl tighter, the hunger there making you want to flee and carve him into your bones at the same time.

"Say it again. My name."

You took a shaky breath but didn't look away. You met his fire with yours, finally eye to eye with each other.

"Donghyuck.”

“Again.”

“Donghyuck.”

“Scream it.”

“Donghyuck! Please, fuck me!”

Your next breath was cut off into a scream as he suddenly pulled himself from you completely before cramming his cock inside you in one motion. As if he'd finally lost all sense and reason himself, he let his full weight drop on you before he started pistoning his hips in and out of your cunt. He was entirely squeezing you with his body weight, your face pressed to the side as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You could feel teeth and tongue against your skin and nails biting against your soft flesh. All the while, his lips pressed kissed against you, broken only by the whispered words you could only catch here and there in your own state of pleasure.

"Tight. So tight."

"Pussy made for me."

"Mine."

"Fucking mine."

It didn't surprise you at all when your body finally exploded again into another orgasm. Toes curling, your limbs stiffened and locked under him as you once again went under the waves of pleasure that made you vision go white. You were shaking, crying, maybe even begging as your walls locked around him painfully again and again like a vice. Donghyuck cursed on top of you as you convulsed around him without missing a beat in his thrusts. You were clamping around him so hard that he winced just from trying to fuck through your walls, but he pushed through, splitting you again and again.

You didn't know how long you were stuck in that moment of bliss. You were floating, falling, the rest of your senses numbed from overload of stimuli. You were cocooned in that sweet state for what felt like an eternity, until finally, your consciousness was forcefully snapped back when you felt a dull pang of pain in your shoulder. Something was digging against your neck—the hard press of fingers and nails around the column of your throat.

"One more. Just give me one more."

The words traveled slowly in your fuzzy head, but a growing sense of panic started creeping on you as you realized what it means. Like a lens brought back to focus, your vision focused again on Donghyuck's face hovering over you. He was panting and his eyes were clouded and dark. One look at him and you know exactly what he wanted, which caused you to whimper and slightly wriggle under him.

"N-No… I can't anymore…" you said weakly as you tried to move your arms and push him away. Your head was swimming from the lack of air, but he let go of your throat just in time before you dipped into unconsciousness again. Instead, he moved his hold to pin you down by your hip bones, the new angle giving him the leverage to pummel you in faster thrusts. His pace was desperate. Bordering on mad. You knew from the way his cock dug and twitched against your womb that he was near—and that he is planning to take you with him again as he comes undone.

"Stop lying. Your pussy's squeezing me like it's begging for my cum."

As if your body had a mind of his own, your walls did clamp tighter around him in reaction to his words. You sobbed and gasped the same time he cursed under his breath, your vision spinning as your stomach painfully started tightening again. In the midst of it, you felt him drop one of your legs so he could reach out for your clit. You screamed, your eyes squeezing shut again as you felt your body start to convulse for the third time that night. You were spiraling once more, teetering on the verge of another undoing that you barely noticed his lips finally ghosting over yours as if to swallow your cries.

"I want you to cum while I fill you up."

"You’ll let me, right? Pump you full until you break?"

“When I get you pregnant, you won’t be able to run away from me anymore.”

You didn’t get the chance to answer as your vision unfocused at the force of the pleasure that hit you. For the third time that night, your walls locked around him and you were falling... falling until you crashed and splintered into a million pieces. You could feel nothing and everything, especially the warmth that filled and drowned your every crevice. He wasn’t too far behind you, it seems, his cock thrumming against your walls as he made a few more thrusts until he was stilling on top of you. Donghyuck moaned in your ear as your pleasure melted with each other, making two halves finally become one.

You felt something inside of you break, freeing you finally. By the time you collapsed, you felt lips gently ghost over your exposed breasts, collarbones, and finally the corner of your mouth.

"Mine. Finally."

Your lips parted wordlessly as the last of your energy left your body. Vision still hazy, you watched as he slightly leaned back to look at your face. His eyes were probing, slowly running through your features as if he was wanting to forever burn this image of you in his mind. You didn't flinch, knowing that whatever you do, you can never escape him anymore.

He was right. You are his now.

You always have been.

"Do you still want to run away from me?" He asked all of sudden, his voice surprisingly soft. It took you a beat to answer, which gave him the chance to drop his fingers to your lips. The tips of them grazed them gently, teasing them open to give him a reply.

"Will you let me go?"

A shadow of something passed his eyes at your words. As you watched him quietly, you also felt a shift in your consciousness that felt oddly familiar. It was a sense of surrender, an acceptance of a side of you that you've struggled against since you first met him.

"No. I can't."

"Why?"

"Because you're mine. Even if you try to deny it, we're both sides of the same coin. You belong to me and you know it."

Yes... You do. You've always known since the moment you first met him. You were scared, because you knew deep inside that he would be your undoing.

"Haechan wants her… Not me."

His hand lifted from your lips and moved to cradle your cheek. The heat of his palm clashed against the deathly cold of your skin as he ran his thumb over the dried tear tracks there. Ironically, his softness hurt you more than his roughness did.

"You and her are the same. Just like me and Haechan are one person. You can't just see that yet, because you refuse to accept her."

You closed your eyes, unable to fight back anymore. Tears welled up again behind them, but he reached out to catch them before they even fell. You were still scared, probably the most terrified you've ever been in your life... But you also didn't feel like running anymore.

"What am I going to do now…" your words oddly didn't feel like a question when you let yourself speak one last time. Your consciousness started blurring at the edges, before you could even come up with an answer.

He was the one who gave it to you.

"Just go to sleep…" Donghyuck said as he wrapped his hand around yours.

"And when you wake up, everything will be so much better," Haechan added, sealing his promise by pressing his lips against yours.

And so, you slept.

*******

A/N: So... yeah. Finally coming out of hiding just to publish this. It is almost 5AM and I still am not satisfied of this version, but I’m also just DONE because I’ve been working on this for weeks. Why is smut so hard to write like ???? Anyway, this is the end of Haechan’s short story so for those who were still waiting for this, enjoy.

Taglist: @negincho, @jhornytrash, @aaasteroidsky, @huangberryyy, @marijmin, @ashkuuuu , @lostlovesoul11 , @johnniverse , @traint0tokyo , @lilyinthewinter , @byunniebaekhyunnie , @ellatizw , @bettyschwallocksyee , @stopeatread , @jacetheworld, @glitching-wren, @tyongf-sunflower99, @chelzinha26, @vaerinri, @minshookie29, @grandmasterslickfox, @coconuttiez8d, @haechanalpha, @markleemelonn, @kpopgirl124127, @txoru, @kacyyz, @matchahyuck,

Untaggable for some reason: @sirnuttcracker, @hyukiebb, @kpopstanforlifeuwu

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