#All those asks I got that were like ‘pls dont let this story be poly’ were actually from Simon I think

[bucketsofmonsters]

Deep Water - Part 5

cw: the ocean, begrudging kissing done for practical reasons, discussions of drowning, blood, malnourishment, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 3k

read on ao3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Simon wretched. He wretched in front of them and it burned his throat and stung his ego as he emptied his stomachs of human food in front of his human and your awful little friend.

Finn had brought him this. Maybe if you'd brought him food it wouldn't make him feel this awful.

Probably not, but maybe.

He didn't like being brought food by this man anyway. It felt too much like courting. 

He would preen at the idea of you bringing him food if he weren't currently emptying his stomachs in uncomfortably shallow water

Shallow water he bore for you. Not for him. Stupid little man.

He hated that he needed him. Needed him to bring him fish and these horrible toxins they’d decided to try. 

“Probably not bread then,” he heard you say and he shook his head

No. No more of this bread. Not if he had anything to say about it, thank you very much.

“Okay,” your stupid little human said, still looking nervous. As he should be. If you hadn’t stood between them, he’d be dead. Even in the state he was in, he could lure him right in past the rocky shore and into deeper waters. 

But he wouldn’t, for reasons he didn’t like to think about, his stomachs turning again as he did. 

The two of you exchanged words once more, ones he hadn’t been paying attention to, before the stupid human left again. 

You sat on the shore beside him and he pulled himself out of the water next to you. 

His gills ached a little as he shifted so frequently from water to air but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to lay beside you. 

You stared out at the sea, eyes a little distant and yet still warm. Even when they weren’t looking at him.

He couldn’t bring himself to feel jealous, not when he got to look at you like this. Even if that look wasn't directed at him. 

You spoke softly and contemplatively when you did. “They were together. Finn and Isobel. She was my sister, I don’t know if I ever told you about her.”

He shook his head, wishing he knew more of you. Wishing you’d share more of yourself with him.

But he couldn’t really blame you, what had he told you of himself?

“She’s smart,” he said, contented at the fact that Finn had apparently already been rejected by one of your own. 

“Smart?”

“You said were. He is not a suitable mate.”

You shifted on the rocks, something he’d come to realize you did when you’d been made uncomfortable, usually by him. He could rarely understand why, despite how frequently it happened. This was one of those times and he waited, patiently, for you to make it clear to him what he had done. 

“She never left him. They were together until she died.”

“Oh.” A horrible sense of dread overwhelmed him. “How?”

“She drowned,” you said, picking up a rock and throwing it out into the water. 

He was glad you weren’t looking at him, eyes locked into the horizon as you spoke. He was certain the worry was written across every feature on his face. 

Did he do that? He didn't know. That felt worse almost, that someone so dear to you could have been so insignificant to him that he may have killed her without even knowing

“Simon?” you asked, words fading in past the intense, buzzing panic. 

He wasn't sure how he felt when you called him that. A foreign, half-remembered name. You'd seemed displeased the first time he’d told it to you but you continued to use it so it couldn’t have been that bad. 

He’d caught himself calling himself that in his own mind, of late. It was easy to when your voice was the only thing that filled his head. 

He wished he had a name like you did, one he’d been given at birth so that when you said it it felt as if you were speaking him, like you could pour his essence out of your mouth with the affection he often heard in your voice. 

As he focused once again he saw the horrible human, holding a fish this time. He looked worried too and Simon wanted to snap at him for the look. How dare he pity him, he wasn’t to be pitied. He could swallow him up, could fix this problem easily, all on his own. 

And then your panicked eyes under choppy water filled his vision. 

He lowered his head, violence seeping out of him, sufficiently cowed, and took the fish. 

They’d been dead a while and he took no satisfaction in sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. 

Eating above the water was messy. The blood clung to his jaw, dripping down his face as he tore a chunk out of the creature.

If he weren’t so hungry he might’ve cared. 

A ravenous force took him until all he was left with was stubborn meat stuck on bones. 

Only then did he look at you. You looked disgusted with him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He shied away from your gaze, tears welling up in his eyes. 

It felt like everything he did was wrong, displeased you and made you look at him like that. 

He slid wordlessly back into the water, not emerging onto the shore until all the blood had seeped into the water.

The concern was back on your face when he returned. 

“Was that okay?” you prompted him gently as he stared up at you. “You feel a little better now?”

He nodded, eyes locked on yours. 

A soft sigh escaped you, lips barely parting to let it leave you. He wanted to feel it, the gentle air passing over his skin, the soft lips he’d felt against his before. 

“Good,” you said, and your smile reached your eyes. 

It didn’t take long for you to depart, leaving to sleep far away from him. 

He did his best to rest and then he did what he’s begun doing most days, he milled about in the water, lonely and near the shore.

He felt an intense panic when he didn’t have eyes on you. If he could get his hands on you, cold and vulnerable in open waters, so could someone else. 

He wondered what he’d do if someone pulled Finn under. He liked to think he’d be noble and protect him, save someone so dear to you. Or at least that he’d turn and choose to let him go, allow him to be dragged under.

He knew that in all likelihood, he would freeze. He found himself doing that a lot lately. It seemed to come alongside the panic more often than not. 

Later, you came to the shore with your soft eyes and he did what he always did. He fought down overwhelming urges to pull you under, to drown you and feast, to protect you as his mate, to beg you to hunt for him as his body became more and more convinced he had lost the ability to do it himself, to do any number of things you’d despise him for wanting. 

He lay on the shore, frozen, until he felt his mind come back to him. 

The fish had helped, he thought. It didn’t take quite as long for the urges to leave him. 

You came bearing more of them. 

Well, you didn’t. Finn did. But he could pretend, think that maybe he was just carrying them to the shore, that really they were from you. 

He knew that they weren’t but he was no stranger to trying to read intention into the things you did. 

It was so easy to slip into, to pretend every action was a secret message of adoration, just like his were for you. 

But they weren’t and when he allowed himself to pretend all he’d done was hurt you, so he needed to be done with that now. 

If you wanted something from him, you’d tell him. 

If you felt something for him, you’d tell him. 

But you hadn’t, and that was fine. He wouldn’t push. 

But he couldn’t quite stop himself from pretending. Surely it was fine, so long as he didn’t act on it. 

Finn dropped the fish on the shore and Simon dove for them. 

It was unseemly but he couldn’t help it. The hunger had left a steady ache inside him and he would take any chance at relief. 

The basket held a few fish, five or six of them strewn inside. 

It was enough to be full. He could’ve cried at the sight. 

But he had more important things to be doing and so instead, he grabbed the basked firmly and slid back into the water, dragging them under. 

He flipped the basket as he immersed himself in the water so the fish wouldn’t escape him and rise to the surface, holding them protectively to his chest. 

He’d wanted to tear into them on the shore but he’d seen your face the last time. He could not see it again, the revulsion that had painted itself there. 

So instead, no longer dissuaded by your presence, he devoured them.

Blood clouded the water as he ate, swallowing mouthfuls of flesh one after the other.

It wasn’t the safest way to eat, could surely attract attention from other hungry creatures, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d done as much caring as he was capable of. 

When he was done, he returned to the two of you. 

Some of the foam lining the gentle waves ran red, stained by remnants of blood washing to shore. 

You both had the decency not to comment on it, though he watched your eyes flick down and then quickly back up. 

He wondered if you’d begrudge him this too. Your food wasn’t quite as messy as his was, was further from the creatures you ate, even when you ate meat just as he did. 

He’d seen it before, basically unrecognizable, no blood pooling or ripping out bones as you ate. A more seemly affair. 

Finn’s eyes lingered longer on the red, something quietly sad in his eyes, before they darted up to Simon. 

As you sat, fawning over Simon and ensuring he had enough to eat, he found it difficult to bask in your attention the way he wanted, that gaze remaining steadily on him. 

He tried not to notice Finn as often as he could. He brought about feelings that were better avoided, especially in front of you. 

Currently, that was difficult, due to the fact that he was staring Simon down, some horrible thought forming behind his eyes. 

“What’s it like?” he blurted out, cutting you off in a way that made Simon want to snarl at him. “Being under the water like that?” He sounded eager.

“Horrible,” you said with a little huff, your words turning bitter. 

He did not begrudge you for the harshness of your words. He would move to land if he could, to prove to you he held no loyalty for the ocean. 

“No,” Finn tried to clarify. “Not just swimming, actually being able to stay down there, to breathe it and live it.”

“I know,” you insisted. “I’ve been down there. It’s awful.”

Finn’s eyes flicked between the two of you like he was trying to decipher something. “How do you… please tell me you're human. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

You reeled back a little at his words, like the thought of you being like him had never occurred to you. He supposed maybe it hadn’t, maybe the possibility of what things would be like if you were the same hadn’t haunted you as it did him. 

“No,” you said with a swift, decisive shake of your head. “Nothing like that. He just does this strange thing where you can breathe underwater. It’s happened a few times now. It’s awful, I don’t recommend it.”

Your unfavorable words did nothing to snuff out the excitement blooming across his face. “Could you do that to me?”

Simon’s nose wrinkled at the thought. “I’d have to kiss you.”

“Oh. Well, it wouldn’t mean anything, it’s just practical.” 

A spike of panic shot through him at the thought that you believed the same about the kiss you had shared with him. That second one that changed his life.

It was practical, he supposed. At least the first one, underwater with panic in your eyes. The second couldn’t be. He couldn’t make sense of it, refused to accept it. 

But this one could be, he supposed.

He turned to you, unsure what he was looking for. 

You seemed just as uncertain as he felt. You spent a while searching for words, mulling them over, before settling on, “It hurts like hell.”

He was quick to reassure you both that it was fine and he didn’t mind. Simon didn’t much care what he minded. 

But then you sighed, slow and resigned, and gave him a look that if he was reading your expression right, which he’d discovered he often wasn’t, was saying ‘please.’

And he couldn’t disappoint you. 

With a huff and a frustrated look directed at you, he grabbed Finn’s hand and began yanking him back into the water. 

Of course, it would have been easier to simply lure him in, but he had a feeling you would not have approved of that.

So instead he yanked him, slowly but surely, into deeper waters. 

The brush of his lips, however brief, revealed rough lips, not like yours, not soft and sweet and so dear to him.

He did his best to lose the touch in the scramble of pulling him into the water. 

He watched the fight that went on in Finn’s eyes as he tried to convince his brain that he was allowed to breathe, saw the moment of panic when his breath could be held no longer and his body forced him to inhale a heavy breath. 

He knew it was wrong to feel a little swell of satisfaction now that he knew that it hurt to suck in water where air should be, and yet he couldn’t quite muster the shame that should follow such a feeling. 

Only as he saw the pain in his eyes did he realize how horrible of a decision this was for Finn. He’d put himself in so much danger, offered himself up to a siren, for what? To be able to see under the waves for a few more minutes? Surely the man could just go for a swim. 

He didn’t know the truth, that he was probably safer with Simon because at least this way, he’d be left alone by other creatures. He didn’t know that his devotion to you kept him from pulling him down and calling it a freak accident. 

All he knew was that he’d put himself in the water with a starving siren. 

Finn left him behind pretty quickly, moving to investigate the floor of the ocean, trying to look at fish before they swiftly swam away, leaving him behind in cloudy water. 

It felt like an uninteresting affair to Simon but Finn seemed to be getting something from it. 

Some amount of time passed, slipping away as Simon distractedly followed the irritating little human around. 

Eventually, after far too long, he appeared to be done. 

Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe Simon pulled him to shore without a signal. It was hard to read body language when one was irritated. 

With another burst of satisfaction, he pulled Finn onto the shore and watched him heave water from his lungs, some of the embarrassment from the human food incident sinking away. 

Strange. He’d never thought it embarrassing when you’d done it. Now, watching Finn deposit ocean water onto the sand with wet hacking noises, he thought that it was a shameful affair. 

“That was incredible,” Finn managed to gasp out after a few minutes of heaving. 

It didn’t feel right, that he’d taken him down there. That his lips had touched Finns.

He turned to look at you, sitting beside him on the shore, a sympathetic grimace on your face as you watched Finn. 

And then he leaned in and kissed you. 

Not a practical kiss, with no intent to put you anywhere near the water, but one born of only affection. 

It was a brief thing and when he pulled away, you looked almost panicked. 

His heart sank at the realization he’d messed it up again, done something strange and wrong and made you afraid of him. 

But then the tension began to fade from your body, panic shifting into confusion.

“Why did you do that? Am I going into the water?”

He shook his head, face still inches from yours. “I just needed to. I’m sorry if I was wrong.”

He heard something from Finn and refused to turn and look at him when you were so close. It sounded almost like a cough, but not the painful, wet coughs of breathing air once more. It was a short stunted thing. 

Simon, without turning, announced in response to this strange noise, “You can leave.”

A fit of laughter escaped you at his words, burying your head in your hands as you giggled.

He hadn’t been joking.

That was fine though. He liked it when you laughed, even if it was at him. It was never cruel, always soft and with nothing but shining amusement in your eyes.

He wished he was better at making jokes.

When he tried you just stood and stared and when he did not you laughed.

But then, he was never the best at knowing when to laugh either. There was a kinship in that, at least.

When he thought he might be laughing out of turn too much, he suppressed it. You didn't. He thought maybe your smile was too bright to keep down, that maybe it would hurt you like keeping in your air did.

His heart sank a little as he remembered.

Hurting you. The horrible realization that he'd hurt them all.

Maybe some of them laughed out of turn too. He'd never know.

Maybe your sister had.

He turned to leave. He couldn't stand to be here any longer.

He should tell you. He knew he should. But his jaw felt locked shut and his body felt like it was being pulled away, out of his control. 

And so, like a coward, he fled, the water drowning out the sounds of laughter that he left behind.

[kabby-patty]

Beg of you to update fic pls pls

your wish is my command…….

Chapter 3- So, this is love 

Abby slammed the office door behind her. Marcus looked up from his paperwork. “Abby…” He smiled. “You’re awake.”

“You’re damn right I’m awake. Why am I here, Marcus? I told you what I wanted.” Her tone was threatening. It was teetering off a cliff of rage and hate.

“Abby, please, you need to understand….” Marcus ran his fingers thrugh his hair. “I….”

“You what Marcus?” She yelled. “You went against what I wanted what was right!”  

“What else was I supposed do Abby!?” He yelled back at her.

She screamed in exasperation. “I just don’t know what to say Marcus. I can’t believe you!”

“I couldn’t live without you! Okay? Does that answer your question? I was selfish. I couldn’t imagine a day when I didn’t see your face. I could stare into your eyes for hours because they are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Abby, you’re my best friend. You’re my light. You’re the person I love more anyone I’ve ever loved ever. I couldn’t just let you choose to die.”

“Marcus I had to…” He put his hand on her arm. She violently shook it off. “The things I did in that bunker…”

He was yelling now. “NO! You didn’t HAVE to. You are CHOSE to. Do you know how much it hurt last time? Last time I thought I lost you? Do you know how much pain I was in at the thought of you not being by my side for the rest of my life? DO YOU?”

“OF COURSE I DO! I love you and I didn’t just want to leave you! YOU’RE MY EVERYTHING!” He scoffed and threw his hands in the air with sarcasm.

“If I’m your everything, why were you going to leave?!” He was so frustrated. “Nothing you did in that bunker matters! You are here now and I couldn’t lose you again I just got you back. If not for me, then our people. They needed a doctor!”

“Marcus!! How can I even call myself a doctor after what I’ve done. My job is to save lives not take them. I don’t know if I can even live with myself!”

“You’re sick too Abby! I heard Raven. What’s going on there that you’ve neglected to tell me!” Both parties were yelling at this point.

“Don’t pull that on me! Marcus you dont understand…!”

Marcus slammed his fist on the table. He was so frusturated. He turned because he couldn’t even look at her. “Abby are you even listening to me?……” Of course he understood. Everything she was going through he had been through on the Ark.

Her heart stopped. Everything around her began spinning. Abby’s eyes glazed over. The sound of Marcus’s fist against the table caused her to go back. Back to a time she so dearly wanted to forget….The sound of her heart pounded through her ears, drowning out the sound of his voice. She fell but caught herself enough to lower her way to the floor. Her hands came up over her ears. Marcus was still yelling.

“Abby! Say something dammit!” He turned to find her on the floor rocking back and forth. His tone dropped to a whisper. “Abby?” She was saying something to herself but he couldn’t pick out what. What had he done? He rushed over to her and sat next to her. Abby’s head was pressed against the wall. Her eyes were squeezed shut as tears fell from them. She had balled her hands into fists and they were covering her ears.

“I submit. I submit. I submit.” She kept repeating those two words that had gotten her through so many hard times. She shook her head back and forth. Marcus was on the verge of tears. Even in Polis, after they had woken up, he hadn’t seen her this bad. He reached out to touch her. He placed a hand on her arm. She jumped and yelped. But quickly bit her lip to silence herself. The sound that she had made broke his heart. It was truly painful to see her like this. He wanted to help her. He wanted to make it better. He just didn’t know how.

He placed his hand back on her arm. “Abby, baby, it’s me. Look at me. It’s Marcus. Abby look at me. You’re okay. I’m here.” She opened her eyes. It took her a second to regain her consciousness. She looked up into his eyes. Marcus put his hand on her cheek.

“Marcus…” her voice cracked and she jumped into his arms. She threw her arms around his neck and grabbed at the fabric of his jacket. Her hands balled his jackets within her fists. Her voice was cold. “Jake….his death…”

“I know you miss him baby. I know you loved him.” Marcus put his hand on the back of her head. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like, to walk the one person you love to their death. He didn’t want to find out anytime soon anyway.

Abby cut him off. “Was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Abby’s voice cracked and she began sobbing. Marcus was beyond confused. He didn’t understand what was happening nor did he need to. He just held her. His arms enveloped her small frame. He ran his fingers through her hair as her body shook. He didn’t know how long she had been crying but eventually they subsided.

She sniffled and wiped her face. Abby sat up and looked at Marcus. She placed her hand on his cheek. She let it fall into his lap and catch on his hand. She grasped it tighter than she ever had before. Abby turned her eyes so she wasn’t making eye contact with Marcus. “For 6 years…Jake he…” Abby lifted her shirt and grabbed Marcus’s hand. She guided his fingers to a scar on the back part of her ribcage. His cold hand made her flinch a little. But when Marcus touched it, he felt something rise up within him. Suddenly everything fell into place. Every missed council meeting. Every small cut on her arms or lip. Every time she was sick from work. Every time Jake made a stupid joke about Abby being crazy. It finally made sense. Jake had abused Abby.

Marcus squeezed her hand as if to say he understood. She got the message and moved on. Tears began to fall from Marcus’s face as she began telling her story. Abby sat with her legs crossed in front of Marcus. He was also sitting on the floor, his back was against the wall. “Everything was fine when I met him. It really was. He loved me and I loved him. A lot. It was a good marriage. A year into it I got pregnant. It was the happiest I had ever been. Once Clarke was born, I focused a lot of attention on her. I was working a lot of the time and things just became strained between us. The fights started when Clarke was about 9. We never fought when she was around. Never in front of her. Never. We fought with our words for 2…..3 years. Then he turned physical.”

Marcus reached out for Abby’s hand. She grabbed it. Abby’s voice was sad but she wasn’t going to give Jake anymore tears. She slightly smiled to Marcus. “When things turned physical, it was right around the time the Ark began failing. I didn’t know what to do really. I thought I deserved it and I thought that was what love was supposed to be. Twice a week….usually. I mean sometimes more sometimes less. It depended on his mood and how he was feeling. It also depended on Clarke’s schedule. He never hit me when she around. For the first few years, I didn’t say anything. I thought it would resolve itself. But around Clarke’s 14th birthday. I couldn’t take it. I went to Jaha. I asked him for help and he told me it was my own fault and that Jake loved me. That he must’ve had a reason for treating me that way. I believed him. I let this go on for another 3 and a half years until I had a chance to get out. Not all of it was bad. Some of it was good. I mean we still talked and he was still held me at night and he still kissed me and he was still a good husband. I had the chance to get out when he told me the Ark was failing for good. He said he wanted to go to public and well…you know the rest. I told Jaha because I knew he would get floated. I knew he would be gone. Marcus one of the best moments of my life was when Jake’s cold body was sucked into space. From that moment on, my life got better. I opened my eyes and saw you. Now we weren’t exactly best friends but you showed me your heart. Trust takes time, look at us. You were…you are my salvation, Marcus.” Abby reached out and put a hand on his face. She used her thumb to wipe off his tears.

“Abby, I…” Marcus cried. He put his hands on her neck and cradled her head. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’m sorry i didn’t stop him. I’m sorry I let this happen to you abby. I’m so so sorry.” Again, tears rolled down his face as his tone was at a whisper. Marcus thought back to their time in Polis. He thought about the scars he’d seen on her back and her ribcage. The ones he asked about but she just brushed it off. He never pressed her because he didn’t want to break the spell both of them were under. One of love and peace. Now he felt awful. Marcus had never felt worse than he did in that exact moment.

“Marcus…” Abby sighed and smiled at him. “I love you. This is not your fault. I promise you. It is Jake’s. It took me a long time to realize this. A long time.” Abby chuckled sadly. “It was no one’s fault but his. He was the one who did this to me, not you.” Marcus cradled Abby’s face. Marcus sniffled. “The reason I never told you about what happened is because I was afraid. I was afraid that it would scare you away or that you would look down on me or you would…I don’t even know. But Marcus, that was a long time ago. I’m okay now.” She spoke softly. Abby leaned toward Marcus. She rested her forehead against his. Slowly, he lifted his head so his lips made contact with hers. Abby placed her hands on the back of his neck, playing with his graying hair. She kissed him back. Softly. Marcus pulled away so he could look at Abby in the eye.

“I love you Abby. So much. More than anything in the world. Don’t forget that. I want you to know that everything I do is for you or…or…..or will benefit you in some way. I promise you, with every fiber of my being, you will always…always be safe as long as I’m around. Abby, I can’t imagine my life without you. It’s not even something I can picture anymore. Abby, I promise to kiss you goodnight everynight, say I love you every morning, kiss you after every fight, and cherish every moment I have with you. Abigail Griffin will you let me spend the rest of my life as your husband? You and me….together.”

Abby instinctively reached for her necklace, which was gone. She put one hand on his face, feeling his beard. “Marcus, I’m sorry….”