#also Blood Moon is so good you guys

[scorpihoe1111]

Astrology Observations-Part 2🌙

Having both Taurus and Aries placements in a chart can indicate someone who enjoys pressuring/embarrassing people when underdeveloped. These people can be actual bullies towards others when they’re at their worst.

Gemini rising’s/Mercury in the 1H look younger than they actually are.

Scorpio rising women are sometimes shorter than average while Scorpio rising men are taller than average.

8H moon’s can have dreams about scenarios that end up happening IRL.

Capricorn Rising’s usually have a skinny/bony appearance.

Whatever sign and house Saturn is in your chart can tell you what other people’s karma is for messing with you. Ex: Taurus Saturn in 7H? Taurus is a Venusian sign so it rules over beauty/appearance as well as luxury and money and the 7H signifies relationships, partnerships and marriage etc. Their karma may be their physical appearance looking uglier, plus going broke as well as their relationships/love life going downhill.

People with Scorpio in the 6H may prone to UTI’s/yeast infections or very heavy and painful monthly periods.

Cancer Rising’s may attract a lot of jealousy because of how intelligent they are (Gemini 12H)

Aries Rising men are usually buff and naturally muscular in appearance.

Aquarius in the 11H can attract multiple friend groups from all walks of life way more easily than the average person.

Pisces Moon/Venus are a lot more skilled in manifesting the things they want than they think they are.

Venus/Libra in the 12H can signify a lot more people than you think having a crush on you/being attracted to you. Your secret admirers just keep it to themselves because they assume you already know and don’t wanna boost your ego.

Leo, Libra, Scorpio and Capricorn rising women consistently attract men who neg them as a way of trying to get them to notice them.

Sagittarius placements (esp mercury) are blunt and rude in their speech but they don’t mean any harm by it, they just say whatever they’re thinking.

Virgo placements on the other hand are also blunt, but they over analyze every encounter and conversation they have so they usually know what’s rude to say and what’s not. So if a Virgo’s saying shady things towards you, they mean it.

Libra Venus’ can not remain in a relationship if there isn’t constant flirting. It’s also important not to let yourself go if you’re in a relationship with them because they are visual asf.

12H sun’s rarely get acknowledgment for the good they do but get a lot of attention for the mistakes they make.

12H suns can also be kind of gullible and naive growing up.

Mercury in the 2H usually don’t like to talk about things that aren’t factual or don’t benefit them in some way.

Mars in the 12H can be prone to high blood pressure due to internalizing their anger most of the time.

Venus in the 1H are very attractive, even if not conventionally handsome/pretty there’s something very aesthetically pleasing about their facial features and their overall vibe.

Venus in 1H can also do no wrong in the eyes of the public. Basically pretty privilege.

Same goes for Pisces Risings ⬆️ they usually get away with a lot due to their innocent demeanor.

Your moon sign is usually a prominent sign in your mother’s chart.

Saturn in the 8H might not lose their virginity until later in life, or at least not as soon as their peers.

Your rising sign can tell you what everyone was feeling or what was going on during the time of your birth.

Leo women have this tendency of leaving or cheating on men who are good to them for guys who are terrible people. (Not all Leo women of course, but I’ve seen soooo many Leo girls do this)

Pisces men are very, very confusing. The type of person to be married for years with kids and still try to keep up with what you got going on in your life.

Cancer in the 12H usually have issues with women/mother in their life.

Aries Venus prefer the chase more than the actual relationship.

Scorpio/8H placements have an inherent fear of their spouse/loved ones dying.

Pisces mars are freakier in bed than most people think.

Moon sextile Neptune manifest through their dreams a lot.

Sun in the 5H is someone who doesn’t take life too seriously and prefers fun over responsibility a lot of the time.

Mars in Scorpio are more revengeful and unforgiving than any other Scorpio placement honestly. These people can get revenge and still not be happy.

Mars in Sagittarius usually have lots of flings and hookups throughout their life.

TW!: Some underdeveloped Virgo men have a weird tendency to actually want to harm women mentally and emotionally. They’re not the type to just break up with a partner and move on, they usually want to make the breakup as fucked up as possible so the thought of them remains in the persons mind forever. I’ve met over 6 Virgo men who’s admitted to this before and the girl didn’t even do anything wrong in the relationship, they just didn’t wanna be with her anymore but didn’t want her to forget them.

Capricorn women usually have very long, flowing luscious hair.

Part 3 coming soon 🌪️

#aries #astro notes #astro observations #astrology #cancer #gemini horoscope: star sign dates #leo astrology #scorpio #libra #taurus #traditional art #ask #astro community #astroblr #virgo #aries sign #aquarius #sagittarius #pisces #12h placements #12h synastry #8h placements #8h synastry #8h moon #8h sun #1st house #2nd house #5h #7h ruler

[harmoonix]

The sunset's flower🏵️

(Natal Astrology Mini - Observations)

🌴 - Sagittarius and Pisces Moon or Venus are able to find abundance in love since they have Jupiter as their ruler for relationships (9th house is also the house of abundance)

🌴 - Jupiter conjunct moon > people get attached to you easily because you often tend to share your nurturing/kind energy

🌴 - Gemini Moons can be shy if the moon makes an aspect with Saturn or Pluto

🌴 - The Unhealed Virgo Placements tends to criticize a lot, or be judgemental that's why is very important to try to understand the surface of a situation (No hate to Virgo Placements)

🌴 - Mercury in the 5th/8th house makes the native to be communicative towards their love/sex life

🌴 - Earth or Water Sign in the 2nd house makes you to crave food in unexpected moments especially at night

🌴 - Uranus or Neptune in the 6th/9th house makes the native to be attracted towards astrology or astronomy

🌴 - Neptune aspecting the south node in harsh aspects can indicate that the native was not spiritual or intuitive in a past life

🌴 - South Node harshly aspecting Moon or Saturn can indicate that native may have lived a painful past life, I swear I was reading about south node and moon aspects on a site this was the first thing that popped out

🌴 - Sun or Lilith (h12) in the 6th house may like to to surround themselves with animals or their own pets on a daily basis

🌴 - Jupiter in the 8th house can be sexually abundent in this life or having luck at getting sexually satisfied (No hookup culture allowed!!)

🌴 - Mercury in Sagittarius or Mercury in the 9th house can talk more than 1 language, or to be interested in learning other languages

🌴 - Neptune in the 2nd house can at some extend indicate eating lots unhealthy food sometimes Saturn/Pluto in the 2H too!!

🌴 - Mars is in the most happiest place, in Capricorn during this time, if you feel like you're more confident than general around this time (even more sexual) this can be why!!

🌴 - Why do people with Mercury in Capricorn Degrees 10°, 22° have such hot and intimidating voices?? Like let me transform in Ursula for a bit✋

🌴 - Your life is a rollercoaster in relationships when you have Moon or Sun rulling your 7th house!💀/😍(not in a bad way)

🌴 - Venus in Scorpio/Venus in the 8th house can have a hard time with letting themselves to be in a relationship or not. And omg stay away from those posesive people for your own good

🌴 - Chiron in the 1st house is a very vital placement for healing overall and everywhere in your body/soul/mind/heart/organism/everything!

🌴 - When you have Neptune in your 1st house one thing about this placement is that unfortunately sometimes people project themselves into you or their insecurities

🌴 - When you have Uranus in the 5th house pregnancy can come unexpected or Aquarius in the 5th house (Don't be scared about it this is just in CASE you want kids and the pregnancy can come off as a "surprise bish😍"

🌴 - Leo/Aries/Scorpio and Capricorn in the 7th house have a chance to get an dominant partner in the relationship due to them having powerful planets as rulers for their 7th house

🌴 - Neptune aspecting Jupiter > You can't lie to me that these natives are not spiritually blessed by their spiritual guides...they're so loved

🌴 - Mars aspecting the Midhaven or Mars in the 10th house can make you to gain money fast or to attract money 🤑 MATERIAL GWORL

🌴 - Chiron square/opposite/conjunct/quincunx Square North, omg I can make an entire roman about these aspects, cus I have them too 💔, saurr...For what I have read and studied about this placement, it can indicate pain/suffering from a past life and something you couldn't heal or finish in a past life, it makes me to think at those statues crying with blood tears if you know what I mean guys,but with all of those I genuinely think that we have the chance to heal this issue in this lifetime guys!

!!🌴 I have tried to keep it simple and to not make a long description for every observation but sometimes is hard since I made these long observation since a long time!! Anyway guys hope you have it good!! All the best for you!!🌴

H a r m o o n i x 🌴🏵️🌴

#astrology #astro observations #birth chart #astro notes #astrology observations #placements #astro community #horoscope #ascendant #mini astro observations #venus #observations #astro.seek #astro.com #astro.blog #astro blog

[opennwindows]

May I request a smoll eyeless jack x f reader nsfw story? Or headcanons?

eyeless jack x fem reader NSFW hcs

cw: 18+ content, medical kink, breeding kink, biting, blood, kinda disrespecting boundaries?? kinda not??, afab fem aligned reader

a/n: hey let’s all ignore my wildly different formatting for each post until i figure out wtf i’m doing lmfao. i decided to do hcs for this since i enjoy rambling and i have a couple fics already lined up and those take significantly longer for me to write!! i hope that’s okay anon, i just want to get more stuff posted :) also i threw a bunch of random ideas together for this so if you’d like anything else more specific please req again!

sooo we all know eyeless jack is a demon, right? to say dude is into some freaky shit would be an understatement.

- jack has a higher sex drive than most due to his demon tendencies. pair that with the rush he gets after a good evening of organ harvesting and you’re in for a Very Long Night. his stamina is also no joke.

- wear a short skirt? it’s getting cut off with his scalpel. accidentally slice your finger while chopping vegetables? well you better turn off the stove because he’s bending you over it. he senses you’re ovulating? he’s fucking you twice as much.

- if you’re into medical play and getting cut up with surgery tools he will be over the moon.

- if not, you’re gonna have to have a sit down talk with jack. he will do his best, but he can end up viewing you as just a lowly human at times. you’re gonna have to put your foot down sternly to fully gain his respect. he cares about your boundaries (somewhat), it just takes a minute to get through to his human side.

- on that note, don’t even dream of dominating him. he’ll laugh in your face and restrain you if the idea even crosses your mind. the thought of a weaker being telling him what to do during sex is comical to jack. he might let you ride him if he’s feeling lazy, but his clawed hands will be gripped around your waist as a silent reminder of who’s in charge.

- he’s into degradation. not the typical “you’re a whore” shit. no, this guy will take every chance to remind you that you’re just a fragile little human that’s only breathing because he lets you. if you feed into his ego, jack will reward you with his face between your thighs for hours.

- ooh let me take a moment to talk about this monster’s tongue. godly is an ironic term to describe anything involving jack but it’s the only fitting word. it’s long, slightly textured, quick and strong. he looooves to edge you until you inevitably break and the only words you can form are broken pleas. you’re gonna have to pry him off of you during your periods. he’s a little nasty

- jack will pretty much refuse to cum anywhere that isn’t inside you or your mouth. during sex, he tends to fully give into his animalistic demon qualities. meaning the only thing running through his mind is ‘breed, breed, breed.’

- big corruption kink. like MASSIVE. i think all the pastas have some form of corruption kink, but obviously the whole demon thing brings it to a new level. if you were a virgin when you met him, he’s gonna have to physically restrain himself from pouncing on you the second its brought up in conversation.

- let’s talk about positions. jack’s not really picky as long as he’s fucking your brains out but he does have a few favorites. mating press is almost always a winner since it feeds into his need to breed (i crack myself up). missionary is a classic that ensures he can have complete control. jack is also a fan of fucking on operating tables???? don’t ask me ask him, he’s odd. his least favorites involve 69, cowgirl, or pretty much anything that involves you on top of him. he doesn’t really get tired so doing all the work doesn’t bother him.

- will 100% spit in your mouth and he doesn’t care if you think it’s gross. get used to it sorry. if you’re into it then you’ve won.

- probably will throw a tantrum if he finds out you masturbated without him. he’s given you so much special attention and you still want more? well. he’s gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be too sore to even think about touching yourself. i’m praying for you girl good luck.

- LOVES TO BITE ON YOUR CHEST AND NECK. i cannot stress this enough. and he WILL draw blood, i mean his mouth is full of sharp teeth so it’s basically a given. bro will be fucking you and straight up take a drink break FROM YOUR THROAT. be prepared to never show your neck or cleavage in public ever again. unless you’re into that. then you go girl, we’re all cheering for you.

- jack thinks it’s hilarious to say terrifying unsexy shit during sex. “i can’t wait to cut you open and eat those delicious kidneys that belong to me….” you just look at him with your mouth open. you’d be better off ignoring his annoying ass he (probably) doesn’t mean it.

#eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x y/n #eyeless jack smut #creepypasta smut #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x reader #celia reqs #eyeless jack headcanon #i refuse to abbreviate creepypasta yall are crazy for that

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part one

summary : 3 sisters for 3 brothers....right? Azriel believes wholeheartedly that Elain should be his mate and in doing so ignores his deep feelings for you.

🧚‍♀️

a/n : I haven't written in like 6 years since my draco malfoy and kpop fanfictions HAHA so please forgive me I am rusty!! Also I wrote this on my phone eeee

but finally eee I'm so excited to post my first writing on tumblr !! I was always a quotev and wattpad girly but here I am finally... 💗

just writing some rough short stories rn but I'll def write more as I get more comfortable again and into the rhythm! let me know what you think please 🫶🏼

ps: it's not proof read cuz I'm lazy I'm so sorry so please ignore mistakes dearies

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You watched as Azriel bent down to whisper something into Elains ear and you felt a growl beginning to build up in your throat.

You didn't know the mating bond did this ; make one so possessive and jealous that the half-moon nail marks on your palms had become blood red, from gripping your fists too strongly.

"I just don't understand why you can't tell him," a voice whispers next to you. You turn to acknowledge Mor, as she slips in next to you into the booth.

"Because the moment I do, this whole dynamic changes Mor," you whisper back, indicating to the sprawl of people around you.

You guys had come to Rita's once again, to party, drink, kiss and do other nonsense things Cassian had eagerly talked about, whilst pitching the idea to the group. It had started off fun, with everyone talking together but as the night had progressed, they had all paired off. You could see Feyre and Rhys making out in the corner of your eyes and Nesta and Cassian dancing around each other on the club floor. Elain and Azriel had also innocently gotten up and moved to another table, using a range of excuses you hadn't bothered to process.

Even Mor had a female making eyes at her from afar.

"Then change the dynamic, Y/N. I need some excitement in my life," she whispered furiously again and slid out, stalking to the female at the bar.

Groaning you sunk into the booth, left alone to your thoughts plagued by one thing only, Azriel.

The repetitive music slowly faded out, as you downed drink after drink, watching the others around you mingle and grind away into the depths of the night. They would come past your table and say a few words before being dragged away again.

But not once did he come. Not once did he even look in your direction... and it infuriated you.

"You look more miserable than me,"

You blinked, looking up to focus in on the flop of red hair, braids and whizzing metallic eye and a handsome jawline.

"Lucien!!!" you let out a whine, attempting to get up but falling back down in the process, not having realised how much strong alcohol you had consumed in the last hour.

"Woah there stargirl," he slipped in next to you, using the nickname only he used for you.

Lucien and you had met on Starfall, as you had been leaning on the balcony, apparently being half a second from falling over because of your drunk eagerness to "catch one of the stars", and since then, he had named you Stargirl. Your friendship had blossomed due to your matching humour and desire to travel the realms.

His shoulder pressed up against you, his warmth spread through you, making you feel giddy. You couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or your desperation, as you abruptly laid a hand on his thigh.

If he noticed, he didn't show it as he took a swig of one of the elixirs that you had in your hand.

As he drank, you watched his eyes zero in on his elusive mate and you swore you saw them darken.

His scent visibly changed as he placed the now empty cup back on the table with a lethal fluidness that had you wondering how good he was at controlling his emotions.

"Its a shame we are mated to the wrong people, otherwise you and I would have ruled the world" he whispers, still not looking at you.

Your breath catching in your throat, your heavy heart pangs with emotion, exaggerated from the effects of the ethanol.

"At least she knows you are her mate Lucien... he doesn't even know about me," you miserably mutter.

You feel Luciens hot gaze rest on you as you look up into his deep eyes.

There's no doubt the turmoil of seeing each other's mates together shines in both of your eyes, but behind the pathetic nature of the situation, a force glint shines through his.

"Then why don't we tell him, Y/N," he urges, a smirk growing on his face.

Your heart drops as you make eye contact with Lucien, his eyes glinting with jealousy and anger.

You had never seen Lucien ever break his calm facades, he always would take whatever Elain would throw at him ; why was he so fired up tonight?

"You have always been so kind to Elain and given her time Lucien, why do you want to make her jealous now?" you voice your thoughts, causing him to look away, as you attempt to search his eyes.

Little did you know or feel, the dark cool gaze that had been assessing you since the moment Lucien had slipped in.

If one were to look through your party at this moment in time, the looks of longing and jealously swirling between you and Lucien could easily have been interpreted as longing and hunger for each other. With now, your full body turned to him, intimately touching him, shoulder to shoulder, anyone could mistake you as a couple.

---

Azriel nodded patiently as he listened to Elain talk about the new plants she wished to acquire from the Dawn Court for her garden.

He was trying so hard to listen and be attentive, but it was difficult when his shadows were buzzing about him, even more frantically, with the effects of the alcohol he had been consuming throughout the night.

He knew the amount of pumps of the vanilla perfume you had sprayed onto yourself, he knew how many times you had sighed throughout the night and he knew of the half-moon marks on your hands. His shadows told him everything, even when he didn't want to know.

For he didn't want to know the looks Lucien and you were giving each other, he didn't want to acknowledge the clenching of your thighs or the hand on your thigh or the-

"-So what do you think Azriel?"

Elains sweet voice cut in deeply through his silent spiralling, as he hummed coming back to the present.

Her big doe eyes innocently looked up at him as he racked his brain for what she had been asking about.

"YES I think the plants would be wonderful-," he began, when his shadows started screaming, "Elain excuse me one moment."

He quickly got up, his eyes narrow and jaw clenching as he went to get out of the booth in haste.

Elains eyes followed him and they widened slightly.

Luciens' hands were on your waist, holding you up from behind, as you both made your way to the dance floor, giggling.

---

read [ part two ] here deariess <3

#angst acotar #acotar #enemies to lovers #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #azriel acotar #acotar memes #jealous azriel #elain x lucien #elain archeron #feyre archeron #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x reader #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #rhys x reader #morrigan

[rivatar]

“You’re Mine Now”

Pairing: Aged!Up!Lo’ak x fem!omatikayan!reader

W/c: 2.5k (oops)

Warnings/content: MDNI, heavy smut, non-con, dacryphilia, innocence/corruption kink, possessive & rough Lo’ak, reader is a virgin, cream pie, (lmk if I missed any!)

A/n: this is for prompt 4 of Pandora’s Bloody Moon. I know Bia’s acc is deleted but @hidden-snow asked that we continue the event. So here ya go, ya filthy sluts 💖

Also credit to @sugarsong78 for creating the idea of the Blood Moon! ❤️

P.S. if any of you have watched the movie Fear with Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon— it’s kinda giving that whole psychopath vibe 🤭👀

Lo’ak had always had eyes for you. Sure, he got around and had his fair share of girls, but you made him unbelievably curious and he came to the conclusion that he needed to corrupt you before anyone else did, or he would never be satisfied.

Maybe it was because you were so untouchable. He was certain you were a virgin because he knew almost all the other guys have tried to sweet talk you and always end up failing, just like he did. He had thought he would have an advantage as the Olo’eyktan’s son but you still turned him down, much to his frustration.

It wasn’t that he was desperate for sex, he could easily hook up with many of the other omatikaya girls. But something about you always intrigued him and drew in his attention. Maybe it was the chase that he liked so much, the fact that you wouldn’t give into him made him want you more, like a challenge. He spent far too much time thinking about you and wanting to know more about you. He would talk to you and joke with you whenever he could, constantly trying to just earn a spot with you. There was even times he thought of you when he was fucking another girl so that he could finish. He was infatuated and wanted to have you and ruin you. He wanted to show you how good he can make you feel and watch you crumble over and over again though multiple orgasms until you were shaking from being overstimulated. He wanted to be the first. But how could he if you wouldn’t even give him the slightest chance?

Tonight was the night the Blood Moon would make its appearance; all Na’vi knew and many prepared themselves the best they could. A lot of families essentially locked themselves inside their houses and took sleeping medicine so that they wouldn’t be awake and outside roaming in their demon form.

On the other hand, a lot of Na’vi embraced this phenomenon. They thought of it as a natural way of life and it should be able to take its course through them for just one night of the year. Eywa made no mistakes to them, so surely there was a reason for this too.

Lo’ak was aware this was tonight and he made up his mind and had a plan in order. He was going to find you and have you, no matter what. And the scheming bastard was so clever that he already knew he was going to blame his shameful behavior on the Blood Moon’s effect on him, so that hopefully you would forgive him afterwards.

…

You on the other hand, were one who didn’t want to participate in this and you were going to take all the precautions to avoid everyone and the consequences. This wasn’t your first rodeo, you’ve done this before on this night each year and have been fine. Your process was to close off your entrance so one would come in and so the moonlight wouldn’t touch you and make you possessed. Once the Blood moonlight hit the Na’vi skin, it was game over.

To trap yourself in, years ago you had made a woven covering supported with wooden beams that covers where your opening to your hut is. It was still evening but you would rather be safe then sorry so you put it up and tied it securely to the sides of your hut to keep it in place.

Then you sat and waited and ate your dinner alone. Praying to Eywa nothing would happen to you tonight.

…

You lifted the covers on your cot to tuck yourself in, deciding to try and go ahead and go to sleep.

Your ear twitches as you hear a sound outside your living space, as if someone was walking up to your blocked-off entrance.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

Your heart dropped as you stared fearfully at your makeshift door being banged on repeatedly.

“YAWNEEEE!! ITS LOAKKK!!” He shouted loudly while still banging the door.

What in Eywa’s name? Lo’ak?? Yawne???

You were so shocked you didn’t speak, not knowing what to say and hoping maybe he’d go away. He wouldn’t be in his right mind right now.

The banging continued. “You gonna let me in??? Or do I have to break in myself??” He yelled while obnoxiously laughing.

“L-Lo’ak, please go away! I’m trying to sleep,” you tried to deny his request politely.

“Nahhh baby, why would I leave when I need you so bad?? Think I’ll dieee if I don’t get you!”

What the hell? This cannot be happening. Your heart was pounding and your hands were clammy in fear. He was literally insane right now.

Then he used all his strength which was heightened right now to shake and break your barrier down, snapping the ties loose and it fell forward with a thud in front of him.

Standing at the door, he instantly made eye contact with you sitting on your bed.

The sight of him was enough to make you nearly piss yourself. His skin was grey and his freckles were bright red, a much different look from his normal vibrant blue. But his eyes were the most horrific part; replacing the normal yellow tint, they were now red orbs glowing in the dark of the night. He smiled devilishly from ear to ear, flashing his even larger fangs and ran his tongue over his teeth like you were his delicious prey. He looked deranged, like a psycho.

“Hi, yawne,” he whispered eerily, still smiling and staring deep into your soul. It seemed to make him smile bigger seeing how terrified you looked trying to cower back onto the bed. You noticed the tent in his loincloth and tears started forming in your eyes. You knew another effect of the Blood Moon was heightened sexual urges.

“Lo’ak please!! Don’t do this!!” You begged.

He quietly stalked closer to you until he could kneel next to your bed. He was even scarier up close.

“Why not? I don’t think I can wait a second longer, baby,” he rubbed your leg and you jumped at the contact.

“I don’t want to!” You cried, warm tears cascading down your cheeks.

You looked into those eyes and didn’t see the Lo’ak you normally knew. No, he was possessed right now, of course it wasn’t really him.

He ran his calloused hand up your leg to cup your pussy through your cloth. You barely whimpered in both terror and sudden pleasure shooting up your spine as you continued crying.

He grinned more. He thought you looked so pretty when you cried.

He then moved your loincloth to the side to touch your bare cunt.

“You’re wet already. You may not want this but your pretty pussy is crying out for me,” he tried convincing you; and subconsciously himself.

He slid a finger inside you swiftly and watched your face intently for a reaction. You were trying so hard not to give him any reaction but you have never felt this before so the pleasure was an unknown feeling for you that you couldn’t control.

All you could do was stare at him as your chest heaved up and down, adjusting to the new stretch his long finger provided.

He pulled it back and slammed back in. A gasp slipped out of your mouth as your pussy fluttered, gripping him perfectly.

“Fuck, that little virgin pussy is sucking me in so tight. Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you out a bit before you have to take my cock,” Lo’ak said.

“Please stop,” you begged again and shook your head ‘no’, yet feeling betrayed by your body succumbing to the pleasure.

Your unwillingness seemed to only make him want you more. He was determined to make you take it and make you cum and feel good. By the end of it you were gonna like it, he promised himself in his mind.

“But you’re doing so good. I gotta claim you as mine now,” he stated plainly, as if that wasn’t a big deal nor required your consent.

He pumped his finger into you and you felt an unfamiliar tightening and gooey feeling in your lower stomach. It felt so good after the initial stretch. You tried to not moan but you couldn’t help it, so you threw your head back so you at least wouldn’t have to look at him. You spread your legs more without even thinking. He didn’t want to wait any longer to ravish you, and ruin you and your innocence.

He suddenly yanked your loincloth off and decided your top needed to go too so he ripped it off as well, leaving you on display for him.

He nearly drooled at the sight, you were like a fresh meal set out and prepared for him, all for his taking.

“Gonna make you cum first before I fuck you,” he told you.

He lowered his head to lick at your clit and continued pumping his single digit. The feeling of his rough tongue was something else, it was entirely foreign and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. It was heavenly.

He then added another finger, assuming you were ready for it by the way your wetness coated his fingers and knuckles. Your sounds of pleasure tumbled from your lips and he savored every one of them like the sweetest song to his ears.

“Feels good, right?” He asked sensually.

You nodded your head and gave a whiny, pathetic “mhmm”

“Yeah I know it fucking does. Should’ve done this to you a long time ago”

Your brain didn’t register that he wanted to do this before now, too. Your adrenaline coursed through your veins and all your senses were heightened. So many unfamiliar feelings all at once and you had no choice but to lay and take it.

“I-It feels weird,” you panted “like I’m about to pee” your eyebrows scrunched up.

He laughed at your pure innocence, it filled him with so much pride and his ego swelled.

“That means you’re gonna cum. Poor girls never felt an orgasm before, huh?”

Your heart sped up faster and the pleasure increased more and more, rushing you towards the climax.

“You never even touched yourself? Really?”

You shook your head no, barely processing his words.

He made a noise almost like a growl. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy. So fucking sweet and innocent, all for me to corrupt”

And just like that, you felt a release rush through you and taking over your body. You shook uncontrollably and yelled loudly, conquering your first ever orgasm. He kept licking and pumping to prolong it. It then turned into oversensitivity and you pushing his head away the best you could. He decided to be nice and let off you.

You panted and tried to come back down from it, exhausted already. He chuckled and smiled at you as he licked up all your mess off his face and hand. Your eyebrows were still crunched, but right now it was in confusion and horror at how nasty he was— that just seemed so dirty.

Without saying another word, he pulled down his loincloth to let his cock spring out. You looked at it in curiosity and fear.

“Never seen one of these before, have you?”

You weakly shook your head no, wondering how in the world that was supposed to go inside you?

He started jerking himself slowly and you watched him, frozen in your place. He didn’t take his eyes off you, those red eyes boring into your soul.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he roughly commanded, pointing at the floor in front of him.

You knew you had no choice but to obey, so you slowly and hesitantly did so.

“Good. Now arch that pretty back some”

You again did as he said, poking your ass out more for him.

“Mmmm. What a beautiful sight,” he spoke in awe and approval. He was checking out every part of you like this, staring mainly at your glistening, puffy cunt all eager and ready to be taken.

You were scared of him in his current state and trying to get this over with. You were sure he was gonna hurt you with his cock, judging by the size of him.

You heard him lower himself to his knees behind you and then felt his hand grab onto your hip. He lined himself up and you gasped when you felt his tip make contact with your hole.

“Gonna make you mine now. Your mind, body, and soul will be connected to me now. You never forget your first. And don’t worry, you’re gonna love this cock,” he said.

You weakly turned your head towards him and nodded, not wanting to anger him while he was like this. He could kill you right now if he wanted to.

“Beg for it”

“W-What?”

“I said fucking beg for it. Act like you want it.” He demanded harshly. “Good girls say please”

“Please, Lo’ak” you whimpered weakly.

He spanked your ass hard. “Say it like you mean it!”

“Please! Please! I need it!”

“Good girl,” he finally praised.

Shifting his hips forward, he pressed inside you. The stretch due to his thick girth was even better than he imagined. You were so warm and wet and tight for him.

You winced in pain at the stretch but honestly took it like a champ. You didn’t want to sound pathetically in pain because of him and let him win this.

“You feel so good,” he groaned deeply.

He started thrusting, setting a brutal pace. He was lost in the feeling, he had never felt a pussy this good.

You moaned and tried to cover your noise with your hand. You felt so full and his dick was reaching to where his fingers couldn’t get to. He pressed his back over you and grabbed under your jaw to bring your face next to his. This caused your back to arch more, your flesh smacking and getting louder and louder

“Taking it so well. Be a good girl and cum on my cock, will you?” He asked while tilting his head to look at your face, sloppily kissing your cheek.

You hummed and moaned, not really answering him. Your face was scrunched up and your eyes occasionally opened to look at the ceiling. You were caught up in your pleasure too and were losing all your thoughts.

Before you could register, the feeling came again and your orgasm ripped through you. You made a mess on his dick as your juices flowed out while you convulsed on his length.

“Fuck! That’s so hot,” Lo’ak grunted, watching your pussy cream on his cock. It was more than enough to make him finish too.

“Gonna fill you up now so you’ll smell like me and all the guys will know I claimed you for myself before they could”

His cum spurted inside you and painted your walls pearly white. You felt the warmness and the way everything got even more slippery as his dick was still fucking you, getting every last drop of cum out.

He finally slowed down and you slumped to the floor, absolutely exhausted.

“Good job yawne, I’m so proud of you,” he praised sweetly, quite contrary to the way he appeared— looking like a demon from a nightmare.

He rose up to go over and grab the boundary he broke through earlier. Your ears perked up and wondered what he was doing.

“Gotta make sure no one else wonders in here with us,” he answered your unspoken question.

“You’re mine now.”

Taglist/moots: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @ikeyniofthetayrangi @loakstahni @inolaphoenix @property-of-neteyam @loak-te-suli @nonamevenus (if you don’t wanna be tagged just lmk!!)

#atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar smut #avatar fanfiction #james cameron avatar #loak sully #loak #loak x y/n #loak smut #loak x you #loak fanfiction #loak x reader #loak x omatikaya!reader #atwow loak #smut #atwow smut #atwow x reader #rivatar

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

What if the reader was the child of the creator and had these gorgeous horns until one day, they were being looked after by Raiden, Venti, Nahida, Zhongli and they hear this mixed sounds of rocks breaking and bone snapping suddenly appearing and reader's large and gorgeous horns is suddenly not attached and in their hands while blood drips from their head. Apparently their horns were feeling pretty wobbly and they wanted to pull them to get rid of the feeling because it felt annoying.

PS: this is normal for this to happen, it's like pulling a tooth and a new one grows back.

How would they react to the graces child's horns no longer attached to their head.

OOOHH BOY, ARCHONS BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS, YOUR BABYSITTING CAREERS ARE ABOUT TO BE SHOOT THROUGH A BIG ROLLERCOASTER!

Honestly cannot blame them for panicking though—I would honestly do the same if I were in that position—

(Disclaimers: Might be OOC!)

Raiden Ei

The moment she sees the Almighty Creator's child's head bleeding, she is already scolding herself greatly for not being able to protect a child.

And then she sees the horns. That's when her panic begins to really spike up. That is—until she remembers Mikoshi Chiyo—her dear oni friend of bygone times—mention something about how some animals shed their horns during certain times of the year. And how her children have their teeth fall out when they were younger but we don't talk about that-

"Your Younger Grace, let us clean this all up before it becomes more of a mess." She tries to soften her voice towards you, knowing that she is dealing with a) a child and b) the literal descendant of the Almighty Creator. She does not dare to try and be cruel to the child who's parent can literally strike her down faster than lightning and time itself.

She's not exactly the most open nowadays, but she would still try to make herself as approachable as possible, if you two weren't close before.

If you two were? Well, that makes it a lot easier—her concern is easily detected and she's already cleaning up the blood and taking your previous horns somewhere else (probably a place where nobody would begin to panic just at the sight of it).

She won't even speak a single word about this incident after it's over. Ei does not want to look back at this memory and remember just how much of a heart attack she just gained by staring at the Divine One's child.

Venti

This man, hands down, will panic for a good few hours. Probably won't think straight as he thinks he's failed the Almighty Creator.

"Your Younger Grace, quick—let's get that cleaned up now!" Man would probably also yeet your horns away (gently) so that he never has to see it again. Venti is 100% traumatized again.

Would keep an eye on you whenever you touch your head now—this guy is making sure you never repeat the same thing again.

It won't be 'till a LONGG time before he realizes it's like a deer with your horns—but still, it's still pretty traumatic for our wisp boi, let's be hoenst—

Nahida

She would naturally be very upset that you would hurt yourself. However, she's not as panicked—she compares this situation like a deer. Or, actually—she hypothesizes.

Nevertheless, Nahida is still pretty upset you have to bleed because of this. She never wants to see you hurt, ever!

"Your Younger Grace, please let one of my people tend to your head..." She would call in her best medics from her nation to make sure your bleeding stops, before she deals with the horns that you practically tore off.

She will admit, it was very strange to hold the pieces of the Almighty Creator's child's horns as if they were collectible items. So, for the time being, she'll just keep them in a wrapped cloth to hide them.

Every time you do this, Nahida is now extra prepared for your "horn regrowth," as she calls it.

Zhongli

Dude is honestly the least surprised out of them all. I mean—can you blame him? He legit has seen it happen—remember what animal Moon Carver is? Yeah, that's right: a deer. Man's seen the guy shed antlers all the time, honestly.

But what he didn't expect is that you would actually bleed from pulling your horns off. That's what gets this grandpa of an Archon moving.

"Your Grace, allow me to tend to your injuries." Would treat it so seriously you think you were actually injured—you're just sitting there trying to recall how you might have hurt yourself until you realize Zhongli was talking about the horns you pulled off.

Pretty calm about the horns, honestly. Like I said, he's probably seen it one too many times. He'll probably ask the Almighty Creator themself of what he should do with them.

Would also probably educate the other archons so that they could stop having an absolute panic attack each time you decide to make your head bleed (cough looking at you, Venti cough).

And that's it! Everyone's except Ei's is short, but I do hope you like it! See you all around :)

Ghost Rebel Side Note: Yes, I did do some research with Ei's part—mainly because I don't really know how exactly she would react to a situation like this. I'm taking in terms with the fact that she is also mentally arguing/dealing with the Puppet Shogun, so there is some sort of rationalism behind her actions because of this. And, no, I don't believe Oni are able to shed off their horns, so I just made one of Ei's friends mention something about re-growing horns/teeth lol-

Check the Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

#genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau #sagau x reader #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #sagau zhongli #sagau nahida #sagau venti #sagau ei #genshin x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic #platonic genshin impact

[asimpwithfreetime]

Our baby (Yandere! Platonic! Sullys x sickly born! Daughter/sister! Reader)

Summary: Y/n was born sickly, scaring all her family a few times in her life with that condition. Now she is doing better but they are all overprotective of her now. (Just a bunch of cute fluff scenes with them and then yandere stuff)

General warnings: yandere behavior, yandere sully family, manipulating/ fear tripping yandere! Jake, violent! Neytiri, fights between Neteyam and Lo’ak, purring! Loak,

Content warnings: English isn’t my first language and this hasn’t been proofread.

[ 3rd Person POV ]

The Sully family was really close, all of them orbiting around Y/n. Y/n was born sickly and usually got ill more times in a year.

Everyone took good care of her. From her protective parents to her little sister, Tuk. Do not forget about her three older siblings that would do absolutely ANYTHING for her.

Jake never let her do anything remotely dangerous, what if his baby got hurt? He wouldn’t survive it. Also, why did she need to know that, she already had him, right?

“You ready, baby girl?” Jake asked his daughter, bringing her close to his ikran. She wanted to fly with one but he didn’t let her. Instead, they could fly together. He helped her up and sat behind her. Once she steadied her posture, he held her in place and they started flying.

At first it was fun but suddenly, the ikran almost crashed into the ground a few times. Jake protected Y/n. She didn’t know he was doing it on purpose. She screamed and cried, holding her dad as a life line.

“There, there, my baby” he cooed once on land. “This is why I don’t let you fly, I don’t want you hurt” he said. She hugged him tightly in between sniffles.

Neytiri was at a whole other level. With a simple “NO” and a hiss she would have everything settled. She even blackmailed and threatened a bunch of Na’vi in the clan to tell her daughter off whenever she tried to sneak around. If other people convinced Y/n, she wouldn’t be the bad guy.

She would be always there for her. As the daughter of the Tsa’hìk she new a lot about medicine and she would cure her baby. She knew how fragile Y/n was and she wanted to protect her baby. She never got aggressive against her, but Neytiri would punch to literal pulp anyone who tried to tell Y/n she didn’t need her family on her all the time.

Neteyam needed Y/n as he needed to breathe. She was his everything. Jake was really stern on him and he could always run to Y/n and still be seen as a hero and a role model. He loved the way she admired her big brother. He liked being appreciated.

He has fought Lo’ak over who loved her more in the past, close enough to draw blood. Jake had stopped them but it was always the same. Neteyam would cuddle with Y/n whenever she was sick, even if it was contagious. He didn’t mind. If he got sick taking care and loving his baby sister, then so be it. Eywa sent him the mission of being there with her. And don’t even think about dating. Neteyam would get caught, but he would kill any boy that looked at her more than twice.

Lo’ak teases Y/n’s sickness sometimes, only if she was going to laugh or crack a smile. He loved her laugh, it made him fill useful. Y/n was his reason to go on. He would be lost without her. In a forest of darkness, she was his moon, his night sky and his guide. She didn’t know it, but she was.

He loved holding her close when she got better from an illness, hearing her heartbeat and purring happily lulling her to sleep.

Lo’ak loved to get on fights just to get treated by his sister, she had such a gentle care that he couldn’t deny it. And maybe he didn’t create fights sporadically. He would fight Na’vi he knew had a crush on Y/n. He would teach them a lesson.

Kiri wasn’t violent physically, but verbally. She had destroyed a lot of people just with the power of the word. And whenever someone made fun of her sister for being sickly or for being weak, or someone would DARE to be in love with Y/n, she would make their live a living hell.

With Y/n she was all soft and gentle. As Y/n wasn’t allowed out alone, Kiri would bring her flowers, rocks and everything interesting she found while going for a walk. That way Y/n could experiment the wonders of Pandora form the safety of her home.

#yandere avatar #avatar neytiri #yandere avatar (james cameron) #kiri avatar #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar james cameron #avatar x reader #avatar platonic #platonic yandere avatar #jake sully fanfic #yandere jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully #yandere neytiri #neytiri #neytiri x reader #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #yandere neteyam #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak fic #Lo’ak fanfic #yandere Lo’ak #kiri x reader #yandere Kiri

[talesofesther]

deep devotion

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Over time you came to realize more and more that sometimes Wednesday wears her words like armor. They become almost futile when you learn she speaks through actions.

Requested by anons: Here and here.

A/N: I combined two requests in this story, and I hope you guys like it, even if I feel like I deviated from them a bit. I'm not completely happy with how this story turned out, but it is what it is. Also FYI, there are a few descriptions of blood ahead, and flashbacks are in italics.

Masterlist

There was something morbid about the way the deep red color of blood mixed with the polished wood floor. It trickled down Wednesday's chin in steady droplets, splashing beside her boots in what would be an annoying stain to clean.

At least in that, the raven-haired girl could take some solace. Losing to Bianca had that effect, the one that makes you feel all bad kinds of miserable and enraged. Today especially, because it was one of those few times in which Wednesday allowed her feelings to dictate her actions.

If her labored breathing and the white-knuckled grip she had on her blade were anything to go by, she was fuming with rage. If you were here, you'd notice — this is where Wednesday's mind first goes to and she curses herself for it — but others don't, her face was kept impassive as the blade loudly clanked on the floor, as she stomped the ground with purpose, reaching the door of the fencing class quickly otherwise she'd be breaking one of the significant rules of the school. No killing your classmates.

Wednesday thought she heard the teacher calling, something about going to the infirmary; but the door had already slammed shut behind her, muffling his voice, and when he managed to reach it, she was nowhere to be seen.

She didn't really register where she was going. She just kept walking. The cold wind hit her cheeks when she stepped outside, it was comforting, she felt it on the damp and dried blood now stuck to her alabaster skin.

It was by luck, or maybe misfortune, that her path crossed with yours.

Wednesday saw you before you saw her, the pages of a book holding all of your attention as you slowly walked the stone path outside, between the lunch tables and the trees. Wednesday stopped in her tracks, waiting for the inevitable. She could taste the metallic flavor of blood on the corner of her lip, feel the sting of the recent cut and it kept her grounded.

There was something about you, something about the way the few lonely rays of sun on this cloudy day chose to shine upon the bouncing of your hair. You were all delicacy and warmth as you traced the lines on paper. While Wednesday was nothing short of a midnight moon covered by rain clouds.

That girlfriend of yours is too good for you anyways.

Maybe Bianca wasn't too far off.

"Wednesday!"

Your voice clashed with her thoughts, and before she knew it, you were shoving the book into your bag and had your hands reaching out for her.

Wednesday flinched at the sudden closeness, blinking a couple of times. The air is suddenly heavier, the clouds past the school walls are darkening quickly, it'll rain soon.

You gulped and dropped your hands, fingertips grazing the fabric over Wednesday's forearm. "What happened?" The worry in your voice was evident.

Wednesday didn't like the crease in your eyebrows or that she was the cause of it. She shook her head, strands of her hair — messy from the way she had forcefully taken her mask off earlier — getting stuck to her damp cheek, "nothing happened."

"So that just showed up there?" You deadpanned, eyes glued to her fresh wound, to the dark tone of the skin under her eyes.

"Nothing that requires you to fuss over me." Wednesday set her jaw, very much aware of you sneaking your fingers between hers. She'd never admit to liking it, but deep down she knew she didn't have to. You knew it already, you knew your way around her and it took having it, for Wednesday to understand how much she'd been wanting someone who took the time to understand her.

"I care about you," you spoke softly, somehow looking at her even softer. Raising your free hand, you pushed away the wisps of hair that had been caught in the drying blood. Your touch was all tender, as if she was fragile porcelain. Which was the furthest from the truth. Yet you did it anyway, following the same rhythm your bleeding heart set, pulsing with each beat for her. "There's a difference." You finished, and pulled her along with you.

The door to the infirmary appeared and you walked past it with no second glances, leading Wednesday to your room instead. Her hand gripped yours tighter after that.

You opened your dorm door for her and asked that she sat on your bed. She complied silently while you disappeared into the bathroom, the dark wood creaking under your steps.

Wednesday didn't say anything when you returned with a few damp gauzes and a bandaid. Or when you sat beside her, looking at her in a silent question before holding her jaw with one hand and cleaning the blood with the other; the white cloth became red, and then pink and then it didn't change at all as you cleaned every last bit from her skin, careful to not cause her any pain, eyebrows furrowed as you ever so slowly brushed her cheek.

The antiseptic stung bitterly, yet Wednesday couldn't look away from you even if she wanted to. Subconsciously, as if you were tugging at her heartstrings, she leaned into your touch, her lower lip met your palm when she relaxed. No one had the power to strip her down from her defenses as you did. It scared her, but she was addicted to the thrill of it.

You placed the purple bandaid right over the nasty cut on her cheek, and only then you asked again; "will you tell me what happened?"

Her dark eyes regarded you with caution before she averted her gaze, pulling her cheek away from your touch as it flushed pink. "Fencing class."

"Bianca?"

"She talks too much."

A beat passed in silence, the only sound being the howling wind outside your window preceding the storm. Over time you came to realize more and more that sometimes Wednesday wears her words like armor. They become almost futile when you learn she speaks through actions.

You picked up on it a few nights ago;

"Y/N if you don't turn that down I'll kick you out." Wednesday grumbled, before turning her attention back to her noisy typewriter.

You shared a glance with Enid — who sat beside you on her bed, biting her lip to contain a smile — promptly turning down the volume on your phone.

The night was a cold one, the glow of the half moon shining right outside the big round window cast bursts of color on Enid's side of the room and a soft white light on Wednesday's.

Time went by with you and Enid sharing a few laughs and Wednesday complaining about how you disturbed her peace. However, when Enid ended up sleeping on your shoulder and you squeezed yourself out of her bed to walk back to your dorm, Wednesday got up as well.

She quietly walked to her dark wooded wardrobe, opening its creaking doors to look for something inside. You followed, stopping right beside her to kiss her goodnight.

Wednesday paid you no mind, which made you frown. No matter what, there wasn't a day that came to its end without her lips settled on yours.

You reached out a hand to tug at her hoodie, but before you could, she was throwing a change of comfortable clothes into your face.

You messed up your hair as you pulled the fabric away to look at her. There was this glint in Wednesday's eyes, if you looked closely, you could see the shape of the moon on her irises. She pursed her lips in an almost smile, glancing at the clothes in your arms and then at you again.

Words weren't needed for you to understand, and your heart just about melted.

A few minutes after you exited the bathroom, now dressed comfortably in all black, you joined Wednesday in her bed. It was a tight fit and caused her body to be flush with yours — but you figured she didn't mind it much when she started playing with your hand under the covers.

Next morning you received just about twenty different pictures from Enid, most of them featuring you and Wednesday sleeping soundly, her head partly resting on your shoulder — though the last ones were all shaky, with a furious raven-haired girl reaching for the phone.

And today it's pretty evident that she's on edge, her eyebrows and lips hold a faint, permanent frown; her pupils are blown, yet miles away, as if she's here but her mind is trapped somewhere else.

"yeah, sometimes she does." There's more you want to say and Wednesday could sense it. You nagged on your lower lip as you gained the courage to do so. Her eyes followed the movement.

"Can I do something for you?"

Wednesday's eyes narrowed, her eyebrow twitched as if she was trying to solve a riddle. If you asked instead of just doing it, it was something you weren't sure she'd like. But you'd never given her a reason not to trust you.

She simply nodded, both hands resting on her lap, black nails tapping one another. Her eyes followed you as you moved to sit right behind her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off of you. When she couldn't see you anymore, she searched for something else to focus on, more specifically the grey clouds behind the tiny crack in your window.

When the tip of your fingers touched the end of one of her braids, Wednesday went as stiff as a corpse. She felt it, your touch barely there at first; careful, soft, as though testing tentative waters. Only when she melted the slightest bit toward you, that you started gently undoing the waves on her hair, strand by strand.

There was a lump on Wednesday's throat that she almost couldn't breathe over, goosebumps filled her skin at the same time her body felt too hot to the touch.

Her hair slowly fell in waves, a sea of dark over her shoulders and back as your fingers ran through it, untangling what was left of her braids. It was intimate, almost overwhelmingly so. Wednesday wasn't sure what you were getting at, but it felt a lot like a promise.

Once you were satisfied, you brushed aside her hair to lay your lips on her shoulder. Slowly as your top lip grazed the fabric of her jacket, you kissed her there.

Wednesday felt faint with the way you loved her. The splashes of rain hitting your window got blurred in her sight; she realized you just said to her those three words everyone cares so much about. And now she understands the weight of them.

Wednesday couldn't help but reach for your hand — the one that was gingerly playing with the ends of her curls — cold fingers wrapping around yours as she brought your knuckles to her own lips.

She said them back in the only way she knew how. And when your thumb traced the lines on her palm, she knew you understood.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

[tenko-thinks]

Upper moons and an s/o with large breasts

Cw: a reader with some huge honkers. I'm talking a real pair of badonkers. Some HUGE habagah-- anyways, suggestive , mentions of lactation?¿ I'm projecting my back hurts

Ft. Douma Akaza and Gyutaro

Requests are open i encourage them, im not that creative

♡ ------ ♡

Douma

Douma is one person I see that values breasts on a feminine partner. They imply fertility, after all.

And that implies youth. Beauty. Which is quite attractive not only to the part of you that he desires to devour. But also to the part of him that is a.. Man.

His hands are almost always trailing down to your breasts. Resting on the softness there.

He only becomes handsier over time, bolder and pretty uncaring of boundaries. Or public opinion. He has a right to squeeze, he feels.

When he's bored he enjoys them in an almost cat like fashion. Lifting them and releasing them to watch the jiggle of soft flesh.

Absolutely the worst to sleep with though you'll be in bed and a hand with find your tit under your clothing and it's like Antarctica. He thinks your reactions are to die for. So he's going to keep doing it of course.

There's a part of him that wants to delve deeper on the idea of your fertility. Watch your breasts swell. He wonders if your milk would be like drinking your blood? Just as devine?

Also you're twinsies with fat tits congrats

Akaza

Akaza does not strike me as someone who cares about the body of his partner so long as they're healthy.

However he cannot deny his base attraction to. The simpler things in life. If you're well endowed. Well, it only means more of you to love.

And love you he does. He's not great at showing gentle affection but words of affirmation are natural to him.

If you're insecure of your chest? He's there to soothe you.

If you're proud of them and love showing them off? Free hype man.

#1 malewife no matter the form his s/o takes i will die on this hill.

Pull a "my tits feel heavy" and ask him to hold them. It'll be funny i promise.

Gets very flustered around you in the nude however. Pointedly NOT looking at your chest. Save him.

Gyutaro

Living in yoshiwara, Gyutaro has seen numerous women. Most of which bearing a few extra pounds on their chest.

He hardly even knew smaller boobs existed . Sure he knew they Did but big was average to him. So I can definitely see him being more of a tits guy just by nature of his environment.

He's an asshole though , bless his heart. Very much the type to just like. Lightly swat at your boob when you annoy him or catch him off guard.

Laughs if your chest is sensitive, and he will abuse that knowledge. Going out of his way to find situations to tease about it.

He however also knows the downsides of having them as well. Considering he's a brother to a sister in a similar predicament as you. Back pain or whatever.

So to make up for his unrelenting teasing, Gyutaro will often just hold you. Or help you crack your back. On a good day he might give you a shoulder rub if you ask nicely. He will call you a loser or pathetic ♡

He often has Daki bringing you warm compresses or bags of rice to rest on your lower back. When she doesn't cry about it, she's actually surprisingly understanding about the whole situation. Not that she'd say that through her pride.

#gyutaro x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny x reader #kny #kny douma #douma #douma x reader #akaza x reader #kny akaza #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #gyutaro #kny gyutaro #Tenko blurbs

[evilwickedme]

I said I'd never do jumblr content again and yet here I am because this keeps coming up and it's like the only thing I can think about. That said I will not hesitate to turn off reblogs if y'all are horrible in the notes again, and be warned that I will be blocking anybody who supports any of the theories I mention immediately

There is no such thing as a conspiracy theory that isn't antisemitic. There is no such animal

Antisemitic conspiracy theories go back thousands of years. The ones that still have the most hold on culture to this day are the blood libel, and the protocols of the elders of zion

The blood libel was an accusation that would be brought against Jewish populations in Europe often but especially around Passover claiming that we were killing Christian children for ritual purposes, usually to use their blood for baking matza or other nonsense (it is important to me that you know that this is nonsense. It is horrible and damaging but also to the core a ridiculous lie that never at any point made any sense. They just didn't care). Debatably this trope is present in the merchant of Venice. Undebatably Jews were killed because people did and still do sincerely believe this

The protocols of the elders of zion is a fictitious document published in Russia at the very beginning of the 20th century, supposedly detailing the meetings of the Jewish people who secretly run the world. The protocols were almost immediately proven to be a rip off of another document - ah, plagiarism - but that hasn't stopped antisemites from embracing it wholeheartedly (special thanks fuck you to Henry Ford for publishing them in his newspaper, spreading it across the USA). It built on previous antisemitic tropes, from the greedy banker trope (Jews were forced to be money lenders in medieval Europe as it was forbidden in Christianity and Jews weren't allowed to join any guilds, preventing them from making money in any other capacity - the reason why there are so many Jews in Hollywood is identical, but in the early 20th century) to the concept of dual loyalty (i.e. Jewish are loyal to ourselves above all else and cannot be trusted to be loyal to the country where we live, see: modern trope that every Jew is probably loyal to Israel and the subsequent idea that it's okay to ask every single diaspora Jew how they feel about Israel immediately upon meeting them). It's also worth noting that the word cabal, used to denote the shadowy organizations that supposedly control the world, comes from kabbala, which is Jewish mysticism

The idea of lizard people, created by a guy literally named Icke because he is a gross human being, was designed to repackage the antisemitic shadow cabal concept to be supposedly more palatable

Most qanon theories also build on all of this, such as world leaders preying on children (remember pizzagate?)

But more importantly conspiratorial thinking always positions you as the good guy standing against a mysterious "them", an other which is influencing things behind the scenes. The Jew is the ultimate other, and specifically an other that supposedly forms a shadowy world government, controlling everything and yet somehow not managing to get rid of antisemitism (see: protocols of Zion, lizard people, we control Hollywood and the government which is of course conspiring against you). There is no way to decouple the idea of an evil shadowy organization (usually also referred to as a cabal to really hammer it in) from antisemitism and antisemitic tropes

And this means that even supposedly "harmless" conspiracy theories attract antisemites and train people who aren't necessarily rabid antisemites to confirm those kinds of biases. Obviously Qanon and lizard people are antisemitic, but what does the moon landing have to do with Jews? Well, it was Hollywood and the government that faked it, obviously. Hell, even the conspiracy that Taylor Swift is secretly a lesbian and is either still secretly dating or is exes with Karlie Kloss is riddled with antisemitism -

Okay so I need to explain my position on this because I fucking hate this conspiracy theory, and the fact that most people simply won't acknowledge that that's what it is. Firstly, Taylor Swift has stated that she is not gay or considers herself an ally at least three times off the top of my head, and specifically denied that she was dating Karlie Kloss. Secondly, outing people is wrong. Thirdly, the conspiracy theory hinges on the idea that she would be risking her career by coming out, except that she's proven that basically no controversy can come in the way of her career, she's already "come out" as an ally, donated to glaad and the equality act, promoted queer musicians & artists & designers (there was a song in the reputation tour that was dedicated to a gay designer every single night of the tour). So what's stopping her from coming out at this point? Mysterious forces, clearly. The antisemitism in that I've already explained, but also the virulent antisemitism among Kaylor shippers aimed at her husband and at the fact that she converted to Judaism is fucking disgusting

Again: even a supposedly harmless conspiracy theory leads to antisemitism and attracts antisemites

A few years ago I tried to rewatch white collar cause I remembered really enjoying that show as a preteen and after around a season I just couldn't stand it anymore, because all I wanted to do was jump into the universe and yell at Mozzie to shut the fuck up because these conspiracy theories were barely presented as a joke and never challenged even once by any of the characters. When I rewatched that 70s show it also fucking sucked, but at least it wasn't showing up in every single episode. The blacklist focuses entirely on a literal Cabal, that's what they're called

This stuff is so normalized and it's fucking everywhere and it's exhausting. Jews are to this day being murdered over this. I can't change the world by myself, unfortunately, but if you don't have a specific person to blame for your troubles, shut the fuck up. Just shut up. There is no conspiracy against you. Sometimes life just sucks. Or definitely does for the Jews who get shot at over this shit

Again, I'll be blocking anybody who parrots this bullshit in the comments but especially fucking gaylors y'all are one of the main reasons that being a fan of Taylor Swift's music is fucking unbearable. Just accept you can connect to music made by somebody different than yourself it's not that difficult of a concept

#this post brought to you by my burning hatred of gaylors #antisemitism #jumblr #jew tag #jewish history #conspiracy theories #t swizzle #to the people who will inevitably come into my inbox after this and ask me questions about antisemitism: pay me first #ko-fi link is through my bio #gail speaks

[oobbbear]

An original species inspired my the moon phases :]! Long post warning ⚠️

These are new moons, they are the smallest and the weakest sub species of the moon kinds

These little creatures can be found everywhere, some living amongst the humans, some in the forest, some even under water

Their height range from 5cm to 30cm

New moons who lives in the human world disguises themselves as everyday objects so they can blend in and not be caught, they steal little trinkets and foods when human’s not looking

These are the crescent moons, they act mostly the same as new moons the only difference is they’re taller and stronger

New moons would sometimes disguise themselves as other moon species so they don’t get attacked by them. Moons are not the kindest to the other sub species. New Moons usually go out in a group of 3 or more, that way they can look out for each other in the big dangerous world.

New moons dress up in heavy layers not only to blend in with their surroundings, it also because their natural body is very soft and fragile, they need the layer of protection to not die easily in the wild

Their disguise of choice is like their second skin it aids and protects them, even tho it is changeable and won’t hurt them when damaged, the little guys value them greatly

This is a Sun, they are the natural enemies of the Moons, while Moons are like little humans, Sun are more like big shiny long dogs, they’re not as smart as the moons but they are much stronger and faster than them

Suns hunts New Moons as food

And in return New Moons do the same

Whenever a Sun is killed by the New Moons, the little creatures would gather together and throw a big party to celebrate their rare victory against their biggest threat in the wild

They called the celebration “The Feast of Eclipse”, like the name, Eclipse appears rarely, and it is the only time a moon can dominate a sun, even if only for a short amount of time

During the celebration, they would dance and sing around their kill and pray for the safety of their kind and for their god to protect them against the many predators they face. It’s a traditional ritual for them

After the ritual, they would cut up the Sun beast and prepare its flesh for the feast. Suns are very good nutritions for the Moons so they won’t let anything go to waste, they make wine out of their blood and meat for the main dishes, after the meal left over flesh will be make into jerkies, and bones will be turn into tools or decorations

Enough about New Moon, let's talk about some other sub species of Moons

This is a Full moon, they are the rarest of the Moon kind. Alike other Moons, they also disguises themselves to blend in their surroundings, but unlike others who gathers material to make their second skin, Full Moons are natural shapeshifters. They release a orb like liquid from the back of their head which made up their body, they can mold it into any form, the only flaw is that they are not able so change their facial structure and their skin patterns.

Full Moons are on the top of the Moon food chain, they eat every single Moon species which including their own kind. These bastards eat ugly look away.

They are the only Moon kind who can own and train a Sun, some keep them as pets but most use as hunting dogs to catch New Moons.

This is all I got at the moment! here's a chart of all the Moon phases, I am planning to introduce the Quarters and Gibbous in the future so keep an eye out if you're interested! I love making character concept it gives my brain something to work with when I'm on break :]

Oh also! feel free to make your own little Moon Phase creature designs and please tag me if you plan to post it I wanna see I’m curious what y’all make of them!

#my art #oc #Moon phase creatures #character design #character concept #cw animal death #cw blood #tw blood #cw body horror #full moons are so weird I love them so much

[its-actually-minicika]

Hi, love your works so much! Can't wait for more updates 🥰🥰 I was wondering maybe you'd like the idea where book!Aemond and Velarion!(Strong?)Reader are in an arranged marriage. But Reader just knows what to say and how to act so that Aemond is wrapped around her finger (kinda thought of Margaery and Joffrey situation, she was such a talented schemer, worthy of winning the Throne 😭). I don't really know about the setting, like if it's before, during or after the Dance... just thought it'd be interesting to see this kind of plot with our beloved Prince 🤴🏼🐉

If you don't like it, just ignore me 🙈

Dragon Sickness (18+)

Pairing: bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader

Warnings: No usage of (Y/N), Greens win AU, bookcanon Greens, the obvious Targaryen incest, mentions of major character deaths (we're entering spoiler grounds, but not really), blood, gore etc.

Word Count: 3.5K+

Author's Note: I fell in love with this idea the moment I saw it! I ended up altering the plot line for this one-shot a little bit - the reader will definitely grow into the Margaery architype, but today you shall see her as she was when she just learned how to make ends meet with her newfound life at Court.

I don't know if I should turn this into yet another series, but if you guys enjoyed this, let me know

Also, thank you so, so much for your kind words ♡ i'm hugging you to the moon and back!

PART 2 IS OUT NOW ♡♡♡

Who could ever blame you for your indiscreet acts? Alliances change when the world you know suddenly turns upside down.

She remembered how weak she was. How scared she had been.

How her eyes widened into two brown specs of uncertainty, how her mouth fell agape, as she mulled over Alicent’s words.

‘You shall marry Aemond within the next moon turns. For the good of the Realm.’

The Dowager Queen had openly admitted to being against the match – of course, the prospect of her perfect son, married off to a lowly bastard of Rhaenyra's (otherwise said, her last surviving child), didn’t specifically thrill her. Much less her demanding and scornful father.

Still, it couldn’t be helped. And if the Velaryon wanted to keep her head away from a spike, she had no other choice but to comply.

Although… she wasn’t a Velaryon now, was she? Aegon the Usurper made sure of that.

His final gift to her was to strip her of all her titles. She had been openly declared a bastard – before the masses, before the Court.

With a wide smile upon his burnt lips, the “King” had told her she’d be a Targaryen instead. Driftmark wouldn’t matter, her legacy wouldn’t matter. Aemond would inherit the seat with the Usurper’s blessing, as a homage brought to his able fighting and his shown bravery on the bloody battlefield.

Never mind that he’d never partaken in a fight; save for the one that killed her stepfather, Daemon, and sent her poor mother in a downward spiral. Aemond had chosen his adversaries wisely, and managed to go through the whole war without as much of a scratch upon his silver armour.

‘I shan’t marry your son. Not now, not ever.’ Her own voice rang out.

‘You will do exactly as demanded.’

‘I would rather die than bear the treacherous children of that monstrous beast.’

A monstrous beast. That is what Aemond was.

And that is what he shall remain. No matter how many gifts he brought to her. No matter how many hours of their days and days in their weeks and weeks in their months they spent promenading those ghastly gardens.

‘You will if you know your best interests. Your own head may hold no value to you, but a single swing of my son’s sword would be enough to bring forth the ruin of House Blackwood.’

At first, she’d been restless in her attempts to escape the Keep. Her every waking hour was spent shamelessly inside the Sept, where she prayed not for the safety of her brothers’ souls, but for revenge against the mutted Greens.

The slight breeze of the cathedral mended her flesh from the heat of summer. And no one dared to approach or talk to her. The quietness was a welcomed deed.

During the first night of their betrothal, her glossy eyes scanned Aemond’s face. His hands wantonly gripped at his thighs and a slight twitch of his mouth, accompanied by an elongated hum escaped his lips.

There was no other discernable expression. And when he led her to the chambers of her early girlhood, he merely bowed and kissed her hand.

She spent the first night of their betrothal scraping her knuckles so harshly, that they broke and cracked under the stimulation of the cold water.

Her thirst for vengeance ceased after the first two months. Her wedding date was approaching swiftly, and she found herself faced with the abhorrent truth. She had no allies. No more friends at Court. The girl had shut herself in her tiny room, losing her mind with the pain and grief that flooded her at night: the faces of her mother, her brothers, her father. The sound of their screams and their endless pleas for help.

Every night, without a fail, she woke up tormented by nightmares – her throat burning with absolving shrieks of fear, exacerbated breaths of air and flimsy nightdresses, damp throughout by breaks of sweat.

The first night she lashed out onto her bedding was the night she found out Aemond had moved his Quarters next to hers. He yanked the door open and stepped into the light of her candle – looking ravished, completely out of breath and startled. Started not for his own accord and safety, but for the state that his future wife had been in.

‘Shit, it’s alright, I’m here–’

The echo of his mellow voice deterred her to let out a blood-curdling scream, that would have rivalled even the one of the late Queen Rhaenyra, after Aegon the Usurper ceased her at Dragonstone, and reeled his dragon to eat her whole.

‘Get the fuck away from me! Get the fuck out of my room!’

Her sobs pierced into the man’s heart, but his hurt expression was masked quickly with one most bitter and taciturn. He clenched his fists ruefully by his side, and spat out an apology in a low and dangerous tone.

‘As you wish.’

And how dearly he loved those words:

‘As you wish.’

'As you desire.’

Even though nothing had been, or ever will be, as she achingly wished them to.

“You could at least attempt to look happy.” His chastising tone rained upon her, as his Lady remained hammered in her seat. Maids flocked to her like lost chickens to their cock, arranging her hair and picking out dresses fit for their engagement parade.

Her face contorted into the mirror, and a faint sigh beleft her lips. Carefully she turned around, reflecting his stance with a subtle arch to her shapely brow.

“It’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding ceremony.”

“An old wives' tale. And one that applies only on the day itself.”

“Perhaps we should encourage tradition more. Make it so we don’t cross paths at all til then.”

Just as fast as it came, the feral look dissolved over his tired face. Aemond heaved out a heavy exhale and merely settled to growl at her maids.

“Leave us. Now.”

A discontented look painted over her fair features. His niece opened her mouth in protest, to try and stop the fleeing girls from truly making their escape.

“I must remind my Prince that the engagement assembly will be held in less than an hour. I believe I should like them to stay.”

The gathered women exchanged lost and protruding glances, until the former King Regent spoke again.

“They will leave us at once.”

“They’ll do no such a thing. They must make haste to get me ready. We wouldn’t want to upset your mother.”

“I’m more than capable of lacing up a loose bodice.”

The tight expression on her face deserted her features with the leave of his smug retort. She swallowed thickly in enraged abandon, and silently beseeched her ladies not to leave her all alone.

Still ravishing her with his bold stare, Aemond stepped another foot into the cosy confinements of her tidy prison. “If I’m to turn around now and find any of you standing before me, I’ll arrange that you’re all flogged and defiled beyond the utter of salvation.”

Brisk footsteps swallowed the room, echoing wildly through the narrow dark hallways. The former Velaryon shook her head in disarray, and graced her soon-to-be-husband with a tight smile and a nod.

“Congratulations.” She uttered humorously, “I should enjoy looking like a fool tonight much more than being proper by your side.”

As if drowned below a trace, Aemond took another step in the direction of the frowning Princess. His face remained impenetrable, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice ran meek, unsure and hoarse.

“Turn around.” He commanded her gently, whilst grabbing a deep green garment from the cluttery made on her bed. Despite her lack of desire to abide by his request, the woman turned her back to him and muttered slowly, though much softer than intended.

“I don’t like that one. It’ll make the skirts look out of place.”

“Which one do you want, then?” His whisper had made her draw in a sharp gasp; the warmth of his breath fell soothingly over the nape of her neck, caressing her delicate skin in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

“The red one with black lacings.”

His hand came to spin her back around, and their noses nearly touched together. A smile tugged at the ends of his upturned lips, but the look inside his eye remained frigid and unforgiving.

“Your petticoat won’t be those colours.”

A conceited scowl graced her face. She reached her hand behind him and skillfully snatched one of a different design. “Fine. I want to wear this one, then.”

The obnoxious blue and silver danced across her paling skin. And if Aemond weren’t so dazed by their proximity and lack of air, he might have laughed at her feeble attempts of vexing him.

“Those are Velaryon hues.”

“Perfect. I shall honour my house well.”

“You are not a Velaryon to grace them with such a feat.”

“No, you are absolutely right. Your brother did name me a Targaryen.”

Their faces were so close to each other, that their moving lips were almost touching.

“Yet I can’t wear black and red either.” A prompted look disarmed the Prince, “It is all very confusing.”

His lone orb descended to her puffing bosom, but Aemond soon directed himself upon a more elusive image. His fingers twitched with the need to grab a hold of her – to pull away those last pieces of cloth that shielded her away from view.

“You know full well why I can’t allow that.” He hummed in unmoving disapproval, “As much as I enjoy your voice and the raptures of your closeness, I must say this conversation bores me.”

“I should be able to wear what I want.” Came her prompt and swift reply, “But of course, Your Grace, forgive me. ‘Tis not for men to pounder on laces and brims.” Her palms took to rest upon his bulging chest, and the girl nearly removed them at once, as the thrumming of his heart enterlaced with her slim fingers. Still, she furrowed her brows in a most perplexed of mockeries, and insatiably drove on, “Indeed resilient men such as yourself occupy their time much better.”

The callouses of his hands fell heavily upon her cheeks.

“Fucking their ways through brothels, getting their pricks wet, and fantasising about wars.”

The harshness of his next tug nearly broke her brave facade – her eyes widened in mistrust, and a slight recoil braced over her straightened back. Her small fingers clasped over his shaking wrist, which held onto her face with a gentleness untoward; one completely mismatching with the predatory glimmer in his eye.

The man he was, and the man he was trying to be would surely never mend to one.

A Kinslayer. A monster. A divergent freak.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

His thumb played absent-mindedly at her lower lip, and the young Princess tried her damnest not to bite him. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?”

“You are as imprudent as you are beautiful. A family trait, I assume.”

“You have my gratitude for the flattering commentary. I’m very proud of my heritage.”

His lilac orb bore into her, and the man let out a reserved laugh, “Your bastard brothers were ample proud. Look where that brought them.” The rough end of his hand gripped her own painfully, before she could make for a swing at his handsome face. “Lost in the seas, rotting at the bottom of an ocean, nestling inside Sunfyre’s belly.”

While her hands were clasped together, her mouth wasn’t sown shut. With a single and effective move, she spat harshly in his face, eliciting a groan from her broader perpetrator.

Though his nostrils flared up in disdain, the man graced her with a calculated smirk. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?” He mocked her with feigned interest.

“Fuck you,” She hissed out slowly, “Don’t you dare talk of my family – my brothers were ten times the man you are.”

“Oh, but I have every right to talk about your family. Given that I will be all yours shortly.” Once more he forced her to turn around, and kneeled over to her spasming form, to begin dressing her up; in nought else, of course, but the mundane silks of his choosing.

"Doesn't the prospect thrill you? To become my lady-wife, to finally bear a true Targaryen inside your royal womb?"

So hopeless and defeated she felt, that the youth jerked herself relentlessly, while repeating him the same plethora of words. “You cannot force me to be your whore. You cannot force me to wear this. I will not bear your Hightower green.”

Aemond could feel his patience running thin – and when her foot came into contact with his setting knee, the man let out a ferocious growl, and promptly trapped the girl in his arms, with the aid of a nearby wall.

“So you want to be difficult? You don’t want to wear this? Hmm? Well, who am I not to abide my Lady’s burning wishes?”

The sharpness of his dagger came into quick contact with the milky skin of her thighs. And she might have almost screamed, if Aemond didn’t immediately pull himself away. His hard chest grazed hers for but a moment, as the Prince cast his attention to her moving shadow.

“If you wish not to attend our engagement parade wearing the clothes I’ve chosen for you,” He muttered against her face, a scorned look adorning his own, “Then you won’t be wearing anything at all.”

She huffed out a dispensing pant and pursed her lips into a tight line.

She remained rigid and poised, until a spark of amusement swirled into her eyes.

The first crack was that of a lax smile. The next, a tremor to her lips. The calm before the storm approached, until all rattled down with a mirthed laugh cascading from her reddened lips.

“Do you mean to frighten me with this promise?” She asked through the arch of an uncertain brow, “As if every man in this cursed Keep won’t get to watch me whore myself out to you anyway, when our wedding night will come?”

His face suddenly hardened at the notion of their reality – as if he didn’t give much thought to the bedding ceremony. To his Lady being watched by a thousand other eyes but his.

Aemond suddenly darkened, and his fist came into contact with a near spot on the wall, so awfully close to her frightened, paling face.

She watched with wide eyes how his stare contorted from one of realisation to one of fury. He stiffly peeled his body away from hers, and strained himself to leave her be. The jealous and possessive knots that churned painfully inside his stomach burned his skin upon the surface, and constricted the air he brashly took in.

He nodded to her in a spry and calloused manner, and brought his hand out to touch her cheek. His knuckles had begun to bleed, busted by the force of impact that his fist had faced for him. Behind his eye danced a look of seldom shame – he gnawed harshly at his bottom lip, and pondered, for a while, on apologising to his niece; for his lack of princely conduct, for his show of impropriety – for his inability to keep himself at bay.

Still his thoughts failed to merge to words, and so the man ran his eye one final time over her defensive pose, and merely left her standing there.

As if turned into a statue, the girl barely registered the lethargic closing of the door, the hurried and heavy footsteps that travelled further and further away from her quaint and cluttered space, and the animated curse that slipped past her uncle's throat.

Did he just dare to leave her there, with her petticoat half up her legs, in nought else but a flimsy nightdress?

At first she thought that his avoidance was a blessing in disguise.

For after clashing wits with Aemond, and after his swift hurried departure, the man had barely graced her with another word.

His hand held onto hers for the whole duration of the procession. He wordlessly forced her to dance two dances, and led her to her Quarters as soon as she mentioned that she was tired.

But his palms didn’t linger on the shape of her narrow waist – his lips barely grazed her knuckles, and Aemond turned with lest a word to add after their fake sympathies were exchanged.

Had he gotten bored of her? Realised what a terrible match they made, and begged his mother on his hands and knees to break off their ill engagement?

For the first time in a while, a new notion of fear engulfed her.

The Greens couldn’t kill her. Of that, she was almost certain. It wouldn't be a wise move, and it would anger the North beyond the power of salvation. The war had had its say on every army that fought into it, yet the Crownlands were especially weak.

But if Aemond were to sever their solidary alliance, then her future would be most uncertain.

Otto Hightower would make her join with an old and withered Lord, no doubt – one with more than enough sons to further on his pesky line. One who couldn’t even get it up to her, who’d never procreate and mend their blood, who’d make sure Rhaenyra’s line would end with her.

Or perhaps she’d be sent to join the Faith – become a Septa or a Silent Sister, among the infamous Maris Baratheons of the Realm. Yet another girl who wouldn’t keep her tongue when asked.

And history might remember them as ‘the women who couldn’t be tamed’, but their lives would be thrown to ruin. Their existence would remain a sham.

No, she had whispered to herself, as she writhed into the soft bedding. If she still thirsted for revenge, she would have to marry Aemond. Keep him interested and relaxed – yearning for her voice and company.

… And if she had to whore herself to him to do it, she would obediently assume her role.

“I beg your pardon?” Aegon asked through another gulp of bitter wine, “Gods be good – I believe that now I’ve heard it all.”

Aemond paced about his brother’s room, with his hands clasped behind his back, and his face set into a deep grimace. He hummed in admission to his brother’s words, and glanced his way with the instance of a hooded eye.

“There is to be no bedding ceremony.” He repeated himself with ease, “I frightened her enough already. The girl will be plenty uncomfortable without the aid of chafing eyes.”

His brother smiled and raised his brows in nothing else but blinding wonder. A small shake of his head indicated his perplexion, and a sharp inhale his drawn decision.

“Mother insisted upon it. You know that well.” The man steadied himself in his chair as he spoke, whilst letting out a small grunt at the contact that the wood made upon his burnt remnants of skin. “I don’t see any reason to annul it. Especially now, an eve before.”

Another sip of the stinging liquor interrupted his smooth and ready trail of thought. The Targaryen brushed off Aemond’s concerns, and gleefully bided his teasing.

“It’ll do the two of you good – you’ll get to see she’s as pure as a bastard girl can be; and she’ll have no deniability that any of her future heirs are yours.” He pointed his weary digit in the direction of his stiffened form and swallowed down a hefty laugh. “Not to mention that Lord Redwyne and Tarly already placed bets on the state of her maidenhead. Would be a shame to disappoint them both, don't you think?"

“What mother thinks is of no consequence. And the amusement of the Realm matters not to me. There will be no bedding ceremony.”

“Nonsense, Aemond. It is our duty to upkeep the Realm – and to entertain its inhabitants if need be.”

When his reckless teasing was met with glacial silence, Aegon sighed as he briskly leaned forward. He watched his sibling with an indiscernible expression across his scorched veneer, and yawned greatly at his indisposed behaviour.

“Of course, we’re here to talk it out. But after so much time spent in your company, I fail to see the necessity for such a thing.” A sly smirk danced across his puffy lips, “Are you concerned that she won’t bleed? Or that you’ll be too cunt-struck by her to last enough to make a statement?”

Aemond’s fists descended upon the polished wood of Aegon’d desk. He thrashed his brother with a defiant glare, and hissed through his gritted teeth, and tight-set jaw.

“There will be no bedding ceremony for my niece and I. Tell that to every Lord that wishes to glance upon my wife – if they do so much as to cast their hands on her, they’ll be fucking their own wives with a wooden cock.”

Amusement laced with grave concern – the finality of Aemond's words ought to have vexed him, irk the King in his sibling's weighty insolence. Instead Aegon nodded, pushing back the feeling of dread that settled deep within his bones. His head jerked towards his closed oak door, signalling to his brother that his visit had been overstated. “What sort of brother would I be, to not grant you with this simple whim?”

The younger Targaryen mirrored his stance, and turned abruptly on his heel after a low grunt of gratitude.

His hand reached for the golden handle, but Aegon's words deterred him to a halt.

“But be careful with that one, Aemond. She’s brash and wholly unpredictable. Make sure the blood that stains your sheets come morning isn’t somehow your very own.”

Perma Tag List: @welcometothelioncage @kravitzwhore ♡

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x niece reader #dark aemond targaryen #bookcanon aemond targaryen #greens win au #pro team green #hotd angst #hotd smut #house of the dragon #enemies to lovers #slowburn fanfic #i mean really #really slow #ENJOY!!!

[theblueflower05]

The Sweetest Sylaung

A/N: So I def didn’t mean to write a novel long Neteyam smut story but here we are. Debating on making this a mini series. Also the anon that requested a “curvy” reader insert- here ya go!(she’s also an Augustine- buttttt you can only see that if you squint lol)

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: This is smut. Pure smut. Please don’t read if it is not your jam. You are in charge of cultivating your own online experience, you’ve been warned!

Pairing: Aged Up! Neteyam x Human!Curvy!Reader

Summary: After an “accidental” romp in the forest, you do your best to avoid Neteyam. It’s for everyone’s good, or so you’ve convinced yourself.

“I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans. That’s my man”- Willow, Taylor Swift

The kaleidoscope of colors explode under your eyes in endless patterns and shapes as you look over the sample of Pandora flora under the heavy duty microscope. This particular piece of the Moons terra had never been discovered before, only blooming at what you estimated to be every ten or so years, under the right monsoon like conditions

At least that’s what you had discovered so far.

The flower, which sprouted into a berry, and then dissipated into a moss like cluster of microorganisms all within its short life cycle had turned into your passion project. You we’re doing your thesis on it, the last step in getting your Masters.

You’d gone through schooling on a computer screen, guided by the greatest minds on Earth that had relocated to Pandora. Scientists of all fields who you’d grown up around. None of them had been surprised when you’d picked up botany. Xenobotany to be exact.

It was in your blood.

The desk your at shakes violently- disturbing your precision like focus. Breaking you straight out of your zone.

“Ugh” you groan, frustrated, raising your head, eyes narrowing at the culprits.

Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri freeze like deers in the headlights of your fury. Spiders arm raised, a wad of paper balled up in his hand, aimed to shoot. He lowers it slowly as the weight of your your heavy gaze zero’s in.

“Sorry, cu-”

“I told you guys, if you cant behave to get the fuck out” You seethe. Your nerves are paper thin anyway. Too much screen time frying your brain something fierce as you focused in on your studies. “Is that not what I said, verbatim?”

“You need to chill. You’ve been so high strung lately. Come hang out with us” Lo’ak suggests smooth and unhelpful. As usual. “When was the last time you left the lab?”

You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, trying not to say anything to scalding to the surprisingly sensitive Sully brother. “No thanks. I’ve gotta focus”

“Maybe Lo’aks right” Kiri starts, her face screwing up as she speaks “Eywa that sounds wrong. Nevermind, My brother is never right- but you should come hang out with us. Let’s go swimming- the watering hole is over flowing from the storms”

The deep sigh through your nose isn't calming, even though you pretend it is. You know they mean well, in the most annoying way. That you’d been buried in books and paperwork in the lab for the past couple months.

Hiding from the outside world within the thick walls of Hell’s Gate.

“Can’t. This is important, Kir- but why don’t you guys head down there? Its closer to Home Tree and its almost curfew anyway” two birds, one stone. Its a smart suggestion- but Kiri’s face falls, shoulders sagging and ears lowing. That look had always gotten you-

“I cant today, but maybe tomorrow? The samples are too fresh and I don't want to put them on ice…But I think Max made those Yovo cookie things” That’s only half of the truth, but luckily Kiri’s always been understanding.

She grabs your elbow in her long fingers and tugs you along.

The mess hall had seen better days, but the large open space still tends to be the meeting ground for the humans that were allowed to stay and inhabit the moon. With twelve foot tall ceilings and airtight exits and windows that lead out to the Avatar Program training yards. Its a common room of sorts, a place where everyone gathers. For meals, for mismatched Holidays. But mostly for gossip.

I mean, what else is there to do?

Like currently, you’re deeply engrossed in the story that Doctor Martinez’s, Xeno-Zoologist is recounting. All dramatics and dirty intimate details “It’s true, they’re gonna bring it before Mo’at and everything”

He’s talking about Trevino and Eital’i.

Everyone had heard the whispers, seen the not so subtle signs. The main Radio Tower operator had turned during the resistance, had fought beside Jake and had been allowed to stay on Pandora- better stuck on a foreign planet then thrown in a familiar jail cell. Trevino’s a cool guy, really.

A cool guy who had been sleeping with a Na’vi woman, apparently. The two had kept it under wraps, really private. No one could pin down how or when it happened,,,but to go to the clan’s Tsahik seeking a mating blessing? That’s major.

“You’re lying” you accuse in a gasp as the table breaks into whispers, all wide eyes and shaking heads. “They’re going to mate?...How?”

“It’s not like it hasn't happened before” Another scientist chimes in casually. Like it’s a known thing.

Which it kind of is.

Taboo, yes. But not unheard of, more like untalked about.

Humans and the Na’vi of the forest had lived in close quarters since the overthrow of the RDA. Jake, the standing Olo’eyktan, just had a little too much homosapien in him. Yeah, he’d survived the soul transfer and fully inhabited his blue body- but he never quite grew out of his human roots.

It had been hard, lots of politicking and good grace shown on both parts, but somehow, like all biomes in the vast perma green forest, all had learned to live in harmony. Most Omitikaya kept their distance. Very hesitant about the human presence. They had every right to be scared, hostile. Scarred by man and its weapons and its destruction.

Others had been raised in close proximity to Grace’s school. Had become accustomed to the nearly two decade long human presence on Pandora. Curious and accepting.

You’d heard about interspecies hookups.

Locker room talks that left your ears burning and your heart racing. It usually came from members of the Avatar Program- It tends to set a precedent, when the quote on quote “royal family” of the Omiticaya is a Jarhead and a native woman.

Na’vi are gorgeous, tall and lean but humanoid enough to be familiar…you’re not exactly sure what they see in humans but you know damn well what you guys see in them.

“How do you think that works? The…physicality of it all I mean. Trevino doesn't have an Avatar. How do they fuck-”

You’re not the only one zoning out from the conversation and it’s lewd turn.

You watch Kiri watch Spider and your heart aches for her. What they have is secret, delicate and forbidden. As a woman with high standing in the clan, you knew that her feelings for the boy wouldn't go anywhere. Couldn't.

When they we’re kids, it was cute. Now that they 're both technically adults, it was just plain stupid.

You tell her of the fact, often.

Kiri tells you to stop projecting.

———

The Sully Kid’s are always late. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they cant make curfew. You throw on an Exopack, hurrying them to the fence.

“Yeah, yeah okay mom. Take it easy” Lo’ak shrugs huffily as you yank hard on his arm. “I’m going, Y/N!”

“Not fast enough you strumbeast’s ass! You’re gonna get me into trouble, who do you think your dad’s gonna blame when you guys end up back at Home Tree super late again? Norm chewed me out for that shit last time!” You man handle the much taller than you alien.

Kiri and Spider a few leagues in front of you, already at the mouth of the giant fence. They’re awkward, not in their usual synched steps. You wonder how much of that conversation earlier had gone to their heads?

You’re bickering with Lo’ak, an extremely normal occurrence. He can be a real douche. and had been kind of insufferable lately. You think its nerves about his impending Iknamaya.

So engrossed with getting them on their way home that you don't even notice him until it’s too late.

Neteyam is a skilled hunter, through and through. The youngest in the clan to ever make a kill. Swift and quiet. Beloved.

But around you he feels out of his element. Clunky and awkward, no matter how hard he tries to play it off its like you can see right through him. Its scary and thrilling, sets his stomach alive with butterflies everytime. This is no different.

Showing up to Hell’s Gate to retrieve his siblings was something he had done since he was a child.

He’d used to bleed hours away playing with them at the scientists fortress, but as he had gotten older and his responsibilities had grown heavier- he had little time for it. Still, when ever his parents would send him out on a one man search party to bring them home, he’d jump at the chance.

At the hope of seeing you.

You’re arguing with his little brother, trying not to laugh at something he said and Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous but he just cant help it. Cant help the acidic twist of his insides.

Especially when he chirps out his family's familiar call, letting his presence be known.

And watches that pretty smile fall right off of your face.

“You’re late, as usual” His voice has a stern edge. It’s annoying, the role he has to play. Kiri is a woman grown, Lo’ak just weeks away from being the same. He doesnt blame them for the way their feathers bristle, almost viscerally.

“Ah, big brother you didn't have to come all this way to get us” Kiri reassures, patting Neteyam on the chest good naturedly. “We we’re just about to be on our way”

Neteyam notices the way you try to look anywhere else but him. It stings because he cant stop looking at you, cant pry his eyes away from your form.

“You all should start heading back before dad notices” Neteyam starts. His father had been busy as of late, harvest season abundant and fruitful this year because of the heavy rain season “I’ll catch up, I need to speak with Norm”

“What? Dad cant use the coms now, he has to send his messenger” Lo’ak’s nose scrunches a little, always questioning. On a normal day it wouldn't affect Neteyam so much, just a normal jab from his snot nosed little brother.

Not today. Not when he’s stretched so thin. Not when you refuse to look at him but are staring at the side of Lo’ak fat head. It feels wrong, makes his skin heat up to the point that it feels itchy and tight.

“That's none of your concern. Head back to Home Tree. Now” He doesn't normally throw his weight around. But he feels the need to puff up big in front of you “Those are orders. Get out of here”

Lo’ak’s less offended and more surprised. One of his oh so human eyebrows cocks, a sly remark in his throat before he scoffs. “Aye, Aye Captain Kiss Ass. C’mon Kiri let's go. See you later Spider, Y/N”

He deuces up Spider, gives Y/N a pat on her small shoulder and glares harshly at his brother before he disappears into the thick brush of the jungle.

Kiri wraps her arms around you in a strong hug, muttering about ‘swimming’ and ‘promises’. The small impish smile she shoots Spider gives YOU butterflies so you don't blame the way he swoons, before she’s off behind her younger brother.

“I can go find Norm for you, bro. I think he’s still out in his Avv, but Max can radio him back in” Spider is none the wiser. Doesn't notice the heavy tension that simmers on a low bubble. Oblivious, as usual.

“Yeah, sure” Neteyam replies, barely sparing the human boy a glance. He’d feel bad for it later, when he could form coherent thought. When his brain wasn't on Y/N issued override.

Spider chatters, good natured. He never got to see the Olo’eyktan in training anymore. He missed his homie.

“Well, I should be heading back. You guys have a good rest of your night-” You’re already turning on your heels when you make the announcement, eager to get back inside. Back behind the safe walls of the lab- far away from Neteyam.

“No”

Neteyam who stares at you with all too knowing eyes. He looks straight through you like he can see through your clothes, through your thinly veiled escapism attempts. He reaches out, wraps his long fingers around the top of your arm and tugs you back to him. Gentle, but very firm.

He doesn't have to say it- it’s written all over his face. Not this time. He’s not going to let you run away from him.

“Netey-” You start in a whine, tugging on his hold. He doesnt relent, if anything his fingers tighten as his eyes narrow. Dangerous, desperate.

“Just talk to me” it’s a barely concealed plea, his tail twitches anxiously behind him “I'm just asking for five minutes. Please Y/N”

Spiders oblivious, yes. Stupid? No. He doesnt know exactly what's going on between the two of you but has clued into the fact that it’s heavy and he wants no part of it.

The excuse he makes is shit- he’ll just go find Norm. Yeah… he’s so out of there.

“What is wrong with you?” You hiss as you watch Spiders awkward, quick retreating form. Eyes flickering over the empty for now training yards “So much for keeping it lowkey, huh? Could you be anymore obvious?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Neteyam is almost shaking with disbelief “What the fuck is wrong with you? You havent talked to me in over a month. Everytime I make any kind of attempt you bolt. I dont-” He sighs, pinching the wide bridge of his nose with the hand that isnt holding onto you.

He looks tortured. Tired. Run a little ragged.

Beautiful.

“I don't know what I did? If this is about that day in the forest-”

You sigh at his words, once again pulling on his hold. Shaking your head desperately because you can't.

You can't talk about it. Fuck, you’ve been trying not to even think about it.

And failing as you replay the event over and over again the darkness of your bunk. Hyper fixating on the way that his lips had felt against yours. Oh the way that his big hands had worked your body over

“Don’t” you whisper “Please don’t”

You’d never been one to beg for pity, for mercy but that’s what you do now. Beg him to let you out of his tight clutches. Metaphorically and physically.

“You’re all I can think about” It's a gutted admittance, but Neteyam makes it all the same “That night- I can’t sleep. I can barely eat- I’m falling behind on my duties because I keep coming back here. Standing outside this fence and waiting for you. I know you could hear me over the coms, right?”

And you could, a few weeks or so ago.

When he’d begged you to come out. To come speak to him. His voice so appealing that you’d almost caved. You’d had to turn off your receiver. Had sat with your head in your hands for hours as you fought the urge to crawl to him, knees raw and your bloody heart on a platter only he could divulge in.

He shuffles closer, all lean strong muscle. Firm, unmovable. “You heard me”

“Of course I did”

“And you still left me out here” He scoffs, head shaking slightly as his adams apple bobs, his ears are pinned to the sides of his head in obvious distress “I could never do that shit to you.”

“One of us needs to be the adult in this situation” Your voice is as strong as you can make it. Trying to speak reason on to both of you “We can pretend it never happened and go back to the way that things were before. You’re my friend, Tey”

You reach up, stroking at his wrist. Trying to soften him enough for him to let this go. Let you go.

He’s trying to control his breathing, all that training for all of those years for what? One fragile human girl to make him completely unspool? To lose any and all composure he’d worked so hard to gain.

He was always the adult, in all situations. Had been born with a neck cramping crown on his head. Shrouded in pressurized glory.

“If this is me being childish, so be it. Where has pretending gotten you, huh? Look at you, yawntutsyìp. you look so tired. When was the last time you slept? Kiri says you spend days in the lab without resting”

His hands, both of them, come up to cup your face. Huge and calloused. Yet he holds you like you're something precious. A small animal, a rare gem. His whole entire world since he was just a boy.

Neteyam thumbs at the cool glass of your mask, tenderly. The bags under your eyes are sunken and bruised. “Don’t shut me out”

Your body, in its entirety, clenches at his words. Velvet and sincere. He’s a fucking dream. Your head leans into his hands, neck sagging of its own accord as any and all words of protest leave your weak mind.

He makes you so easy.

“Let me in…I dont want there to be this distance between us anymore” He hisses around the word distance. Hating even having to say it “I want to be inside of you again”

Your plump lower lip gets skewered between your teeth, eyes screwed shut as you remember the last time. Your first ever time being full…you’d dreamt of it every night since it had happened.

If it wasn't for the blasted mask and your need for Earth’s oxygen he’d kiss you. Right here right now. He didn't really give a shit who saw or what they had to say.

Instead pulls you into his chest, lets you wind your arms around his lean middle and bury your chest in his diaphragm. Its as close as he can get you, for now. Makes you cling to him the way that he’d clung to every thought of you for the last weeks.

You wish it was lungfuls of his skin that you were taking as you try to bring yourself down from this abrupt shaky high. You dont get it, how your relationship couldve flipped this hard in such a short time.

He had always just been Neteyam. A shameless flirt yes- but that’s all it was.

“Would you like that?” He questions, hands working through your hair. Fingers light and soothing on your scalp. Massaging the thoughts right out of your head.

“Hmm?”

“If I was inside you again?” He presses on. You can feel the tickle of his long, thin, tail as it wraps around the back of your calf and you groan, digging your nails into his back.

“You’re such an asshole. Stoppppp it” You’re embarrassed and turned on and already feel stupid enough, he doesn't need to rub it in. His chest shakes as he chuckles.

“I’m serious. Tell me you want it-”

“Neteyam! Hey!”

The two of you break apart in an instant. You jump away from him as though struck by lightning. Instantly putting enough distance between you and the Na’vi that maybe, just maybe an onlooker might think that the embrace was friendly.

It’s Norm, having heard that the eldest Sully was looking for him he’d come eagerly.

The smile you plaster on is forced and honestly, Neteyam doesnt fair any better. He’s obviously flustered, just glad that his erection isn't tenting his tweng.

“Spider told me you and your dad are looking for me. I’m not intruding on uh anything, am I?” Norm looks between the two of you.

Your arms are folded tightly over your chest and Neteyam is rubbing at the back of his neck, strong jaw flexing as his teeth grind.

Oh yeah, Norm had definitely interrupted something.

Knows for sure as you scurry away. As Neteyam, always so level headed, has to string together words. Stumbling a little bit as he tries to remember the message that Jake had relayed.

It’s not any of his business, he thinks at the time. He sure didnt want to be the one to shine the light on whatever the hell was going on here. Turning a blind eye to the mysteries of Pandora is the only way to survive the harshest terrain known to man.

———

You dont know that though-

No, you’re spiraling more a little bit as you prepare yourself for bed. Brushing through your thick hair and staring out into space as your mind assaults you with all of the gnarly ‘What If’s’

Norm had seen and he had to know right? Oh god, what if he told Jake?

You balk. Lowering the brush as your eyes bulge out of your head.

What if he told Neytiri?

That's actually a super horrific thought. Like nightmarish. You have a lot of respect for the future Tsahik...

…And a very healthy does of fear. She didnt like humans and made it known. She tolerated them only for her husband's benefit. What if she found out that her eldest son, her golden boy, had fucked one?

You’re freak out is interrupted by static, by the beeping of your com receiver on your night stand.

“Y/N?” its Neteyams muffled voice through the device. You’d ignored it once. You should ignore it again…

“Yeah?” you wonder if he picks up on how shaky you sound through the receiver.

“Tomorrow night meet me at the East Gate. Like when we we’re kids” he’s not really asking. Not demanding either. You could ignore him again, but he has to try.

The line goes silent, quiet for minutes on end.

“Y/N?”

You’re so stupid. “What time?”

You can hear the grin he’s sporting as he replies “0100”

“Got it, over. Good night, Neteyam. Go to sleep”

———

The East Bay is on the other side of the large fortress-like building. It's not that it's forbidden, or anything. but it is deserted. It’s where the military personnel had inhabited, and since most if not all of them had gotten the hard boot off Pandora it was empty as a ghost town in these maze like halls.

When you we’re younger; you’d caught Spider sneaking Kiri and Lo’ak in through the rarely used entrance. You’d demanded the know how, if he didnt want you to rat on him for it. It was a rare occurrence, but the Sully children had all been snuck into Hell’s Gate this way over the years.

You type in the codes, disabling the alarm system in order to usher Neteyam into the pressurized, air lock. You’d toted one of the Avatar Exopacks along for him, they’re heavier then hell but he’d need it.

“Hi” you smile, suddenly shy as the tall Na’vi man stands before you.

That's what he was now. A man, not only in the eyes of his people but as a whole. Broad and muscular, strong. Verile. The next leader of his people. You know that he’s highly desired in his clan. Women fawn over him. Vie for his attention.

It doesnt feel real that he wants to give it to you.

You’re nothing special. Not tall and stunning like the Omaticaya women. Even by Earth’s standards you're short, curvy. Not particularly pretty. Insecurity gnaws at you, as it so often does.

“C’mere” Neteyam urges, boldly yanking you by your waist. Pulling you flush against his body. Grabby and insistent, he wants to feel your bare skin. All plush and soft, hes been dying to taste it since the last time.

Kicking himself over and over for not savoring every bit of your body that you gave to him. He won't make the same mistake again.

He’s not gonna lie, the concrete and metal of the walls inside of Hell’s Gate have always made him a little claustrophobic. But he can't do this outside-

His lips capture yours, demanding and needy from the jump. Big, over powering, he swallows your little chirp of surprise. Devours any and all breath from your lungs. Its messy and so good. You hadn't gotten to kiss him last time.

His mouth tastes amazing, his tongue rough in texture just like you remembered. It grates your lips as you suck on it-

“Hey, slow down a little bit” You giggle as Neteyam paws at your ass, lifting you off the ground until you squirm hard, making him release you “Not here, we can't do this here there’s cameras everywhere”

“I don't care” Neteyam pecks all over your face, trying to recapture your mouth as you avoid him “Let them watch, most of those pervs would like it”

And they would know that you’re his. The thought is beyond heady.

You gasp as his sharp canines ghost over the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling on your pulse point “Please- Neteyam”

You firmly push him away, hand on his chest and maybe if you hadn't cut him off cold turkey he would've given you space. Could've pulled away for a moment to let you say your piece. Instead the idea of letting you pull away even an inch is unbearable to him.

No. instead he tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He hauls loads heavier then you every day, your protests mean little to him. With his free hand he scoops up the Avv Exo Tank,

“Where to, yawntutsyìp?”

Where too is an old conference room. Its as good as any, and Neteyam yanks a couple cushions off the old couch to act as a brace for your head as he lowers you to the floor, flat on your back.

You’re so pretty like this, he tells you of the fact.

With your hair a mess behind you, your face free of that damned mask. Grinning up at him as you rub your thighs together. He wishes he had that camera that his dad liked to take pictures on. He wants this moment of you framed, immortalized.

“I hate sky people clothes” He mutters as he tugs on the hem of your t-shirt. It hides you, hides all that skin he craves.

“You want me to take it off?” You offer eagerly, raising up enough to start peeling the piece of clothing off. You’re bare underneath, completely. Your breasts jiggle as they’re freed, nipples peaked in the cool air-conditioned air.

“Don’t ever put it on again” He demands, taking it from your hands and tossing it across the room. He’s dead serious, but by the way you're giggling you obviously think its a joke.

He can’t help it, he dives in face first. Rubbing against your soft breasts, obsessed with the way they feel. Heavy, pillowy. He drags his tongue across all of your bare skin. From your clavicle to your nipple. You always smell so pretty, but its got nothing on the way you taste. It explodes bright and savory on his tastebuds.

You let him explore, until your spit soaked and shaking. Your panties sticky as your hips search for any kind of friction. “I need you”

“You have me, my love. All of me” your eyes water at his words. At the sincerity. At how much you want them to be true.

You grab one of his hands and drag it down your chest. Past your soft, rounded belly and into your shorts. He grunts as you guide him to where you’re wet and pulsing. Rythmetically clenching around nothing.

He circles your clit, feather light. More of a tease then anything and you want to sob. You’d thought of nothing but this, touched yourself imagining him. “Tey-”

He smiles around a mouthful of nipple,tugging on with his teeth. “I missed you so much”

“Then be nice to me” you plead, trying to shove yourself down on his fingers.

“We’re being nice now? Were you nice to me when you ignored me?” he can't help it, hurt bleeds into his voice. It had been so fucking painful, knowing that you hadnt wanted to see him. To be with him.

“I’m sorry” you whine, grabbing his face, pulling it from your bosom. “I’m so sorry. I was so scared- I’m still scared but I need you”

He lets you cup his cheeks, lets you plant kisses all over him. The bridge of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. You dote on him, gentle and caring and he gorges himself on your love.

“You cant ever do that again, okay?” He shivers as you kiss his ear, running your tongue along the hyper sensitive flesh “If you’re scared you come to me, not run from me. Do you understand?”

You nod, eager. “I promise, Neteyam”

It’s all he needs to hear, that you’re his. That you won't deprive him of your presence ever again. He doesn't know what he’ll do. He’s a little scared of the man he becomes when it comes to you, you’re not the only one frightened by the gravity of your feelings.

“You asked if I wanted you inside me again? Yes. So much. I never knew I could be that full” it’s like you know just what to say. You light him up from the inside. His fingers begin circling your sopping clit again, this time with intent.

It’s blurry, the fact that your lightheaded making it hard to think. To track what he’s doing to you because somehow Neteyam seems to be everywhere at once. His big body all encompassing as he takes you.

“No-no marks, baby” You try to remind him and his blazing eyes zero in on you in a glare “you know we cant…not where they can see”

You’re right, and he hates it. He’ll just have to mark you where only you can see. Where you can look at your self and be reminded that you belong to someone. That you belong to him.

He doesn't have the patience, cant stop his hands from shaking- the tear of your shorts and panties echos around the room as he removes any barriers between him and the heat at the apex of your thighs.

You cant help the thrill it sends down your spine. He’d…ripped your panties off. You thought shit like this only existed in bad Earth made Porn that you’d found on one of the labs computers.

“Sorry, sorry” his apology is far from sincere though and you can't help but giggle, patting his braids fondly.

The fingerfucking is rough, your wines and moans spilling from you as he hits spots inside of you that make you want to curl up. It’s too good. Too much-

You screech, back bowing as he bends to kiss you, loud and sloppy, right on your wet clit. His big head burrows between your thigs as he delves on your cunt, his long rough textured tongue lapping at the fat puffy lips. The texture difference has both of you groaning.

It’s heartbreakingly good, the kind of good that you’ll never be able to forget. That you’ll crave and need for the rest of your life. Addictive, as he dedicates himself to making you feel pleasure.

Neteyam eats pussy the same way he does everything else in his life, exceeding any expectations. His instincts sharp as he hones in on how to make you lose your mind.

He keeps telling you how good you taste, breaking away for heaving breaths before he reburries himself. The only sounds in the room are the beyond wet sloshing of his tongue lashing and the pathetic noises your making.

He’s eating you alive, you don’t know how you’re supposed to survive this.

His fingers, two and then three fuck in and out of you. Corkscrewing as he loosens your tightness up for him.

“O-ooh” you whine high and reedy as you feel your tummy tightening, the pressure building in a way that makes you feel like you cant breathe. You cant your hips, shoving them down at that perfect angle “Oh, sh-shhhhit. I’m gonna, I’m-”

He doubles down and you’re a goner.

The orgasm is devastating. Sofuckinggood you think you might see stars for a minute there. You can't even scream, you keep letting out these little cries that are more like wheezes. A desprate attempt to get some kind of air back in your lungs-

Which reminds you.

Even though you’re in a daze you wiggle away from him, he hisses at you about it but you swat the top of his head as you reach for the Exo Pack.

You shove the mask in his face, between your legs.

”Breathe, Neteyam” you demand him to gulp down the Pandoran air. Yeah, he could go longer in your environment than you in his but still. Death by giving head isn’t the way you’d like him to go out.

He takes long breaths and you try not to be embarrassed by how soaked his chin is.

When he pulls away his eyes are a little more focused “Thank you, sweet girl. Always thinking about me, huh?”

You nod, dropping the mask. Closer this time for easier access. His eyes quickly zero back in on your swollen pussy, on how wet he got you. On how pretty it looks. His mouth is watering all over again-

When you try to close your thighs, the burning of your cheeks getting to be too much he hisses again. It’s not a sound he often makes and it’s a revelation, he’s so sexy. Almost feral.

“Who said I’m done?”

You’re never going to be able to get over this man “I already came?...”

“Yes? So?” he rolls his eyes, lowering his head, nuzzling at the damp juncture of your inner thigh “You’re still so tight, here feel”

His fingers slip back in you and you mewl, baring down as he scissors the long digits.

“We have to get you loose enough to take me, I don’t want to hurt you” He explains it like you need convincing. Like he has to convince you to let him eat you out. You just re-spread your thighs, relaxing back onto the cool floor as you let him do as he pleases.

It takes two more orgasms that you scream and shake through until he deems that you’re ready. By the time that he begins to slide his cock into you you’re a blubbering, oversensitive mess. You’re crying rivers of tears as you cling to him.

“Hold my hand? Please ” You request and he smiles, kissing your tear streaked cheek as he interlaces his longer fingers with yours.

Humans and Na’vi can fuck, but we’rnt designed to. His dick is overwhelimgly big and will really injure you if the two of you aren't careful about this.

You both gasp sharply as his tip breaches you.

It hurts, it’s agonizing. It’s the kind of pleasure pain that you didnt even know could exist. Everytime you think you can adjust, he pushes in another inch. But oh, how you missed it. Being so full it feels like you’re going to burst. You’re pussy flutters as it fights to take him and you focus in on his face.

It’s all scrunched up in heavy concentration. His lips speared between his sharp teeth in a way that has them almost bleeding.

You can't have that. You tug him into a kiss, soothing the abused flesh with your tongue.

“I-I dont want to hurt you” He whimpers as his forehead rests against yours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay” You hum to him, grasping at his hand even tighter “I love what you do to me. I love how you feel”

When he bottoms out you think he must be in your ribs. Hes still, letting your body get used to him. Trying to be kind. You want to tell him that there’s no getting used to his size. That he could fuck you every day for the rest of your lives and he would still feel just as massive.

“Please” you wail instead “please”

The first gentle snap of his pelvis has you both reeling. Your thighs lock around his thin hips, urging him. You can take it. It only takes a little urging for him to lose himself. The harsh stretch of it has you shaking as your over sensitive pussy tightens. You’re coming again, less intense the the previous orgasms, thankfully.

Neteyam had been so focused on making you feel good that he’d neglected his hard, weeping cock. His balls are so full that he knows he’s not going to be able to draw this out.

You know you have to look stupid, mouth hanging open as you raggedly gasp for breath, letting out punched out sounds as Neteyam pounds into you. You cant look away from his face though.

It’s mesmerizing, all of it. The sounds he lets out. The way that his braids sway with the rhythm of his pleasure seeking body. His broad shoulders, bulging biceps and forearms- you are so fucked.

You’re so in love.

“Please Y/N” He wheezes as you squeeze around him, letting go of your hand so he can wrap both of his arms around your lower back “I can’t hold it. W-where should I?”

Oh. Oh, he’s the sweetest man. He always has been.

You peck his lips, not minding that he’s too lost in his own pleasure to really kiss you back

“Come inside me. Come inside me. Come inside me” it’s a heated chant, broken and breathy by the erratic rhythm of his hips and he buries his head in your neck, wailing in the skin there.

Just for a moment, lost in the haze of sex, you can tell he forgets his own strength. Thrusts into you so hard that you scream out in pain, the mushroom tip of his long cock batters your cervix relentlessly. Its a sharp, startling sensation that you’ve never known but you ride it out for him. Desperately trying to keep your whimpers of discomfort at bay.

When he comes, his whole body goes still and ram rod straight. He hugs you tightly to him. You wish you could see his face. Next time, hopefully.

He’s Neteyam, the mighty warrior. The dutiful son. The next clan leader but as he shakes and twitches and basks in the afterglow you can't help but want to baby him. But stroke his back softly, rubbing the residual tension out of his tired muscles.

He’s your big ol’ pussy cat, you’d always teased. He purrs like one every time you’re affectionate with him.

You can’t help but run your hands along his sensitive spine. Let the length of his tail run through the loop of your fingers. He grins and flicks it from side to side. He’d always thought your fascination with it was amusing.

“Are you okay?” he mutters, still hidden in your hair as he starts to come back to himself and you hum, moving up to pat his braids.

“Mmhmm” you’re maybe not as capable of making words as you though you were. He chuckles and hugs you. Holds you in his big arms in a way that makes you feel untouchable.

The two of you lie in that room for as long as you can, until he has to start heading back to Home Tree, it’s almost morning and his parents are early risers. They’ll look for him if hes not in his tent…

It's hard. Letting him go. Even though you know he’ll be back. You keep pulling him back in for kisses, holding onto his muscular arms until he laughs and peels you off of him.

“I’ll be back my love. I’ll always return for you”

You frown but agree, pushing him away to get re-dressed- “How am I supposed to go back like this! Neteyam I don't have any pants!”

He’d shredded your shorts and panties. Literal tatters of cloth are all that’s left.

Neteyam cracks up, almost keeling over. Thinking he’s oh so funny. It lightens the situation and makes letting him go- watching him disappear back in the forest a little easier.

You end up having to pull your fortunately oversized t-shirt down as far as it can go as you make a mad dash across the facility, back to your dorm. You fall asleep grinning, thinking about how the panties had been a necessary sacrifice.

———

Norms on late night watch, keeping a bored, admittedly not sharp enough eye on the security camera’s feeds. With the rainy season, came an influx of Slinths’. It made sense to have a lookout, and somehow he’d gotten saddled with an overnight shift.

He’d definitely fallen asleep for a few hours. Not that he’d tell anyone of that fact.

There is nothing that could prepare him for what he see’s on the screen, over in the desolate East Bay. First, he thinks that he’s hallucinating, his sleep bogged eyes playing tricks on him.

He rubs them hard with his knuckles, not believing the image that is large and clear on the security footage.

It’s Neteyam. Inside the facility which almost never happened. And he’s bending down, his lips locked with Y/N’s . Kissing her hard and long before she punch’s in the code, and opens the air locked door to let him back out into the shadowy eclipse.

Norm’s learned a lot living on this strange moon- Pandora was mysterious. Full of things his brilliant mind would never understand. So he does what he does’ most of the time.

Minds his own business.

So I’ve had this idea cooking for months, but didn’t have the bandwidth to get it written down. The ideas wouldn’t translate to page and I still kind of feel like they didn’t butttttt whatever. This is pure self indulgence. I am so much more in love with Neteyam now. He is SUCH a good guy. Ugh.

Also, please remember that my requests are OPEN! Send in all that good shit. Come blue alien brain rot with me!

#neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #avatar neteyam #aged up neteyam #neteyam x you #avatar smut

[runninriot]

Small Treasures To Keep

inspired by the prompt 'Love is not in the big things but in the small ones' by @sidekick-hero written for @steddielovemonth day 9

wc: 1.472 | rated: G | cw: none | tags: Musician Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington has a crush, just sweet boys being sweet, friends to lovers

   “There were like, at least 200 people there! And they were actually enjoying our show! Can you believe that? It was amazing, Steve! They listened to us play, and banged their heads, and they cheered after every song. Some of them even asked if we had any merch with us and obviously we didn’t but we gave out autographs and- Oh! I almost forgot! I got you something! I’ll be right back.” Eddie nearly topples off the couch in excitement.

Steve watches him with a smile on his face, equally amused and charmed by Eddie’s dorky behaviour, and bites back a laugh when Eddie almost stumbles over his own feet as he hurries towards his bedroom.

Eddie is a menace. So strange and irritating at times but in such an endearing way it’s impossible not to like him.

Steve’s been listening to him talk non-stop since he arrived at his trailer about ten minutes ago. Talking himself breathless while recounting the events of Corroded Coffin’s first real gig, as Eddie calls it.

Steve can’t blame Eddie for being so over the moon, so overjoyed and proud. So thrilled to have gotten the chance to play as substitute opener for some Indiana metal band last night.

It must’ve been a blast, by the sounds of what Eddie’s been telling him. And Steve really is happy for him but somewhere deep down he’s still a little sad. Because he was supposed to be there for the show, to watch his friend perform in a venue four times the size of The Hideout, in front of an actual crowd. But Steve had been caught up at work because Keith called in sick last minute, leaving Steve in charge of the closing shift at Family Video which meant he couldn't make it out in time for the gig.

That really sucked.

Steve had been looking forward to the concert ever since Eddie asked him if he wanted to come see them play. When he told him it would mean a lot if he did. That he’d appreciate to have his emotional support there because he’d been so nervous about the whole thing.

It made Steve feel special, in a way. Like he’s important to Eddie, important enough for Eddie to want him there. For wanting Steve to witness the most exciting moment in the band’s history since Gareth’s mom had finally relented and let them use the garage for their rehearsals.

Steve had wanted to be there.

So, not being able to go was utterly frustrating. Not only because he really would’ve loved to watch Eddie play his guitar on a real stage but also because he kind of felt like he let Eddie down.

It was a miracle he even got a hold on him over the phone to tell him the unfortunate news. Eddie was just about to leave and make his way to the venue when Steve called him. (He would've already been out of the house had he not spilled a drink on his shirt and needed to change.)

Steve was gutted when he heard Eddie let out a heavy sigh, felt a pang in his heart at the defeat in Eddie’s voice when he told him that it was okay.

He felt horrible, like a bad friend. Unreliable and disappointing.

But then Eddie told him he understood and not to worry his pretty head about it. Said he wasn't angry, just sad because he wouldn’t be able to look out for Steve in the crowd when his nerves got the better of him.

    “Promise you’ll think of me?” Eddie had asked and the promise spilled easily over Steve’s lips because-

Well. When is he not thinking about Eddie?

The guy with the unruly mane and chocolate brown eyes. The guy with the cheeky smile and a passion for teasing words. Whose small flirty gestures get Steve’s blood boiling and make his heart jump.

He’s on Steve’s mind constantly because he’s a constant in his life now. A good friend, a kind soul. Annoying, and loud, and wonderful to be around.

Eddie is-

    “Ah, fuck!”

The clattering sound of something takes Steve out of his thoughts and he can’t help but chuckle when he turns towards the noise and his eyes fall on Eddie, helplessly fumbling with the chain hanging from his belt loops that got stuck on the door handle.

When he's finally managed to free himself, he speed walks over to Steve with a big grin on his face. Eddie comes to a stop right in front of him, expectantly looking down at Steve as he triumphantly holds up a crinkled piece of paper, waiting for him to take it.

   “What is that?” Steve asks, confused and unable to identify what he’s now holding in his hands.

Upon closer look he realises it’s a flyer, or it had been one before someone decided to tear it in half. Steve can barely make out some dates and half of the name of a venue, thinks it might be one for the show last night.

   “Look at the back,” Eddie says and his smile widens even more.

When Steve turns it around, he sees the Corroded Coffin logo scribbled on the backside of the paper. Beneath the band’s name, he immediately recognizes Eddie’s squiggly handwriting, thinks he can make out the names of the other band member’s too.

Steve looks back up at Eddie, returning the smile as he realises what this is.

   “You got me an autograph? That’s so cool! Thanks, Eds!”

   “Not just any autograph. It’s the first. When people came asking for autographs we panicked a bit because no one had ever wanted us to sign anything. So we practiced. What you have there is the first piece of paper Corroded Coffin have ever signed. Gareth wanted to throw it away but I saved it because I wanted you to have it. Y’know, uh, because you couldn’t come to the show and I, uhm, I still wanted to share the experience with you.”

Eddie’s face turns bright red and he seems nervous all of a sudden.

And Steve just... stares. Lets his eyes drift between Eddie and the small treasure he’s holding in his hands.

It might just be a piece of paper, some might even call it trash. But to Steve this is something precious. Something he’ll hold onto forever because Eddie gave it to him. Eddie thought about him when he should’ve been buzzing with ecstasy over their successful gig.

   “That’s-“ Steve doesn’t know what to say.

So instead of talking he stands up and pulls Eddie into a tight embrace, feels his heart beating like crazy when Eddie returns it with his own arms wrapped around Steve.

   “I love it,” Steve says, keeps other words hidden inside.

They tentatively let go of each other, still staying close, still standing toe to toe.

   “Maybe it’ll be worth some money if me and the guys make it big one day.”

It already is Steve’s most valuable possession.

   “When, not if,” Steve says matter-of-factly, holding the paper close to his heart.

   “You really think so?” Eddie asks, voice hushed like it’s a secret wish that might come true if he doesn't jinx it.

   “Mhm.” Steve nods. “But I would never sell this autograph. I’ll frame it and keep it forever.”

   “You will?” Eddie asks, a little disbelieving but also...

    Hopeful?

And for a moment they just stand there, looking at each other wide-eyed and red-cheeked, both flustered and shy. Smiling.

   “Forever,” Steve says honestly, more meaning to the word than he’s ready to admit.

-

A few months later Steve finally gets to see Eddie and his band play on a real stage, in front of an actual crowd. He’s there in the front row, cheering for Eddie, buzzing with joy and pride.

And when their eyes meet in the middle of a song Steve doesn’t yet know is about him, he decides he’s going to tell Eddie that he loves him.

-

And when years later a reporter asks Corroded Coffin’s manager – who’s known to have been close friends with the guys forever (there are even unconfirmed speculations about him and the lead singer being lovers) – at which point in life he knew they had made it, Steve smiles and says “When I held their first autograph in my hands”.

The reporter laughs and the other band members roll their eyes fondly at the cheesy response. But Eddie looks at him and returns the smile, unnoticable for anyone other than Steve. And in that moment it means more to him than the gold ring he's secretly wearing on a chain around his neck. It means more than success and what they've accomplished in life.

It's a small thing, a hidden 'I love you'.

Another small treasure to keep.

#steddielovemonth #tumblr prompt #love is... #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #friends to lovers

[manicrouge]

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

#call of duty #cod #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #mw2 #cod mw2 #cod au #task force 141 #cod mwii #ghost simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost x reader angst #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #siren au #alternate universe

[rivatar]

“Love Bites”

Pairing: Adult!Neteyam x fem!human!reader

W/c: 1.2k

Warnings/content: MDNI smut!, biting/marking, blood thirsty neteyam, a lil somnophilia but not much, established relationship, fingering, demon Teyam

A/n: this is prompt 6 for Pandora’s Bloody Moon, I’m sorry it’s 2 days late, I was so busy this weekend😩 also I’m sorry if it’s not good, it’s def not my best work but still hope you guys can enjoy :)

“I’ll see you tomorrow, paskalin,” Neteyam sweetly bid you goodbye with a peck on the cheek.

“Okay, Teyam,” you softly smiled in return.

He had walked you back to the lab and as much as you both stalled already, it was time to part ways. The upcoming Blood Moon tonight meant an early goodbye for the day. You two have been dating for months now, and the future Olo’eyktan has made it clear he wants to be mates with you, only when you were ready. However, it is not always easy handling your differences between your two species. Like tonight, for example; all the other Na’vi could participate in the night of the Blood Moon but you couldn’t, you’d be ripped apart and possibly killed. So, Neteyam made sure you were safe and sound back in your room in the lab complex well before nighttime settled in. He couldn’t have his little paskalin get eaten by the wolves.

…

Neteyam missed you at dinner but he knew it was for the best. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. Safe from the others and even himself. He didn’t know what he would be capable of doing to you. He didn’t even wanna be anywhere near his family, so he set off deep into the forest.

It was now eclipse and the Moon made its appearance. The moonlight made his skin tingle and he watched in bewilderment as his skin faded from azure to a milky gray. Though this happens every year, it never fails to bring an unsettling feeling of not having control over the effects. His breaths quickened and he felt strength and power spread through his limbs, creating the urge to break something. His little bioluminescent freckles turned to red speckles, much like the red irises he now possessed. His brain was processing the physical changes to his body as well as the feelings and urges that flooded his mind. His tongue felt his sharper canines and he thirsted for blood. Not just any blood though, your blood. He imagined your human blood would be much sweeter than anything else here. He knew his right mind was slipping away when his body naturally started carrying him in the direction of you.

…

He forcefully entered the lab and went straight to your room. Opening the door carefully, as to not wake you.

You were peacefully sleeping away, probably having sweet dreams. In the very back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t disturb you— knew he shouldn’t wake you and then watch you be terrified of the way he looked right now. But his instincts consumed him and controlled his thoughts now. He had to have you.

Walking over carefully, he noticed you were wearing a loose tank top, exposing much of your skin. He slowly lifted the cover off of your body and was met with the precious sight of you only wearing panties for bottoms. You were so sweet and small to him, your dainty little night clothes driving him absolutely insane. You were too good to be true in his opinion.

He gently slid his hand over your legs and arms, loving how soft and plush your smooth skin was. You moved some in your sleep, still not noticing him yet. He tried to keep his breathing in control by breathing in his nose and out his mouth quietly.

“So beautiful, yawne,” he whispered admiringly.

He started kneading your flesh, getting extremely aroused by you. He wanted nothing more than to dig his sharp canines into your skin and bite you—hopefully drawing some blood. But he needed you to wake up first so you wouldn’t be scared and flee from him.

He softly shook your form, beckoning you to wake up. You slowly stirred out of your slumber and your eyes blinked open—only to see those red eyes staring back at you. You jumped back at the sight of him and gasped.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay baby, it’s me!” He tried to calm you.

“T-Teyam?” You choked out weakly, “You’re n-not supposed to be here” your mind quickly registered.

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stop myself from coming to see you… you’ll have to forgive me for what I’m going to do”

Your body was stiff and your eyes were full of concern for what he meant and what he might do to you in this state. But you slowly nodded as you relaxed some because it was still your Teyam and you trusted him.

“You look so pretty, baby,” he cooed while stroking your cheek tenderly. You smiled in return, still feeling a bit hesitant.

Then suddenly he leaned back down to your thighs and latched his teeth onto one of them.

“Teyam!!!!” You flew up to sit upright on the bed and looked at him. The pain of his canines impaling your skin combined with the pleasurable feeling of his warm mouth overwhelmed the nerves on your skin.

He only hummed and moaned on your flesh in response. You slightly winced, still staring at him in bewilderment. Then he smoothed his tongue over the wound, licking away the blood from the little pricks he made. He pulled back to admire his work, loving how his bite now marked you as his.

“Don’t think I can’t smell you, sevin. You liked it, didn’t you?” He smirked.

You blushed, still feeling confused at the mix of pain and pleasure and how it really did turn you on. You nodded and got out a weak “yeah..”

This only aroused him more. He wanted to see how you’d look writhing under him as he pleasured your pussy while marking other parts of your body. So he lifted your legs up to your chest and slid your panties to the side to see your glistening little cunt.

“Fuck baby. I might have to bite you more from now on,” he gloated.

He slowly pushed a finger into you and you moaned at the sensation, your head already swirling from the intense pleasure he gave you. He started pumping the digit, stating in awe at the mess you made and the loud squelching sounds.

He hovered over you and positioned himself closer to your face, connecting your lips in a needy kiss. You greedily took the kiss, tongues swirling and your lips getting all puffy. He moved down to your neck and latched onto it, pulling out a guttural moan from you. He hummed in the satisfaction of tasting your sweet blood again and it turned him on more, so he mindlessly dry humped your side and the bed, dying to get some kind of friction for his cock.

His efforts made you cum on his fingers, spewing out whimpers and moans in the process. He was still cleaning your neck wound while you were coming down from the high.

It seemed that having a taste of you only made him want more.

It was going to be a long night.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @property-of-neteyam @hidden-snow @live-laugh-neteyam @nonamevenus @loakstahni @ikeyniofthetayrangi @sugarsong78 @inolaphoenix @strongheartneteyam

#avatar smut #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar #neteyam #avatar fanfiction #neteyam smut #james cameron avatar #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x you #pandorasbloodymoon