#Siren song

[lepetitdragonvert]

Siren Song

Artist : Lia Melia

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉

Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Siren Song

April 3, 1983

“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.

Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.

So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.

“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”

“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”

“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”

Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.  

“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”

Soldier Boy gave him a sly look. 

“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.

“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”

Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny. 

“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.

“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.

“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”

If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.

“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”

“Something new,” Arthur intoned.

The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.

“Yeah.”

He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.

“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”

The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.

Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit. 

Fucking supes.

But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.

It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.

After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind. 

Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head. 

On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either. 

“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.

“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.

Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”

Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.

Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”

And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.

When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin. 

Fucking show off, Ben thought. 

Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target. 

“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”

“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up. 

“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.  

“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.

“Did I fucking ask you?” he said. 

Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym. 

Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press. 

You seemed to be mysterious. 

Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.

With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. 

That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.  

And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point. 

If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.

Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.

You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.

You eventually noticed him with a smile.

“Good morning, sir.”

Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating. 

"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?" 

You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself. 

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you. 

When your hand brushed his, he felt it.

Your power.

It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core… 

He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.

And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile. 

Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind. 

You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection. 

He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.

Your knowing, easy smile remained. 

“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

How the hell had you heard about that?

He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.

“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.

Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.

Interesting.

“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.

“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.

Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you. 

“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.

“What’s yours?” you returned.

He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.

“Call me Ben,” he said.

Three Days Ago…

You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.

I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.

Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.

“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”

“Okay, thank you so—”

The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.

You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries. 

You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time. 

That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks. 

Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust. 

You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight. 

“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”

Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.

There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.

Only show them what you want them to see.   

Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.

You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet. 

Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name. 

You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.

You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.

Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.

Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!

Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?

Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.

Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.

You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.

Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.

Soldier Boy. 

A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.

“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”

Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.

“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained. 

Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.

You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole. 

Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.

You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.

The game begins, you thought.

For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one. 

They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair. 

Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.

Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.

You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here. 

It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here. 

So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.

Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you. 

It had never been about you. 

You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills. 

Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.

It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned. 

Soldier Boy, that asshole. 

But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun. 

When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.

Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it. 

You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.

“Good morning, sir.”

AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.

So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...

Next Time:

“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[apoemaday]

Siren Song

by Margaret Atwood

This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible: the song that forces men to leap overboard in squadrons even though they see the beached skulls the song nobody knows because anyone who has heard it is dead, and the others can’t remember. Shall I tell you the secret and if I do, will you get me out of this bird suit? I don’t enjoy it here squatting on this island looking picturesque and mythical with these two feathery maniacs, I don’t enjoy singing this trio, fatal and valuable. I will tell the secret to you, to you, only to you. Come closer. This song is a cry for help: Help me! Only you, only you can, you are unique at last. Alas it is a boring song but it works every time.

[hoshizoralone]

sirensong doing couple’s halloween costumes

[weirdlookindog]

"White, creamy waves breaking—and what else was there?"

Virgil Finlay (1914-1971) - Illustration for Lester Barclay's 'Siren Song'

(Fantastic Adventures Vol.5 #10, December, 1943)

[chlobody]

Sirens washed ashore

[alastor-simp]

Enchanting Lullaby - Insomniac Alastor x Sea Siren Reader

❥Summary: Everyone in the hotel knows that Alastor does not sleep, but what happens when he seeks you out and makes a request only you can provide for him.

❥Tags: Alastor x reader, sea siren, siren reader, insomniac, insomniac alastor, alastor does not sleep, fem reader

❥Notes: I am OBSESSED with siren songs. I find them so hypnotic and beautiful, so I wanted to write a story with a siren reader with Alastor. Wanted to give a shoutout to my friend ValerieWinks777 for helping me with this story. I recommend checking her out on Wattpad, she does amazing Alastor x reader stories.

Spending years in hell, forming unbreakable deals and ripping apart demons in his broadcasts have harden Alastor to put aside certain feelings and tasks, including sleep. Well, he used to sleep during the time when he was alive, honestly he is surprised he even could after all the horrible murders he committed. He didn't just decide one day that he wasn't going to slumber anymore, this change started slowly. Indulging gleefully in the wrath he enjoyed created new enemies, enemies he knew posed no threat, but the longer that list got, the less often he slept, as he rather stay awake and attack them head on if any of them even considered wanting to mess with the radio demon.

A couple days after the extermination war and rebuilding the hotel, it had gotten surprisingly more busy with new demons arriving to gander at the hotel, and possibly consider joining. Charlie had been working like a mad women, tending to make sure everything was perfect for the guests and also trying to lessen some of the workload on the others. She greatly appreciate everything that happened before, so she didn't want them lifting a finger with anything. Alastor, however, was not one to just stand there and not offer his assistance. He may still consider the hotel a bunch of wack-a-doo nonsense, but he has grown fond of Charlie and her beliefs, also considering how much of a gentleman he was, he wasn't going to let poor Charlie do everything herself. Charlie waved her hands in the air, saying profusely that it was okay and Alastor didn't need to help, but Alastor was persistent. "Ah ah ah. Charlie, my dear. As the facility manager of the hotel, it is substantial for me to offer my assistance. Now then! What humble tasks need to be dealt with?" Alastor said with a smile, as he bent down, putting his face closer to Charlie's. Charlie gave a sigh and small smile back to Alastor and told him of the assignments that needed to be done for today.

Alastor went about and began completing each task, stockpiling the drinks for the bar, making sure the rooms were all spick and span, obtain groceries for the kitchen and also prepare dinner for later tonight. Alastor had finally reach the end of the tasks and softly heaved a sigh. Performing small things like this was nothing to him, as he preferred to finish the job quickly and properly and not dwindle on it, but he had used a great amount of his powers to fulfill each one of them, causing him to feel more drained then usual. Alastor, for the first time, felt the need to take a good due rest, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy since it has been a millennium since he last slept. Pondering through his thoughts, he came up with an idea that could help him, as he made his way upstairs.

Knocking on your door, Alastor patiently waited, as the door to your room opened, with you standing on the other side of it, wearing your cozy pajamas. You looked up at Alastor with a smile, head tilted to the side. "Oh good evening, Al. Is there something you needed?" Alastor smiled down at you, showcasing more of his teeth. "Yes, my dear! I have encountered a bit of a dilemma and I need your assistance with the matter. Would it be alright if you could come to my chambers?" He observed your eyes glaze with confusion before you nodded your head, and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. Alastor had hooked his arm with yours, as the both of you walked towards his hotel room.

Upon entering his room, you glanced around his room, admiring the pocket dimension he had created. It gave a calm tranquil vibe in the room, along with the static music playing from the radio in his room. Al had said nothing when the both of you had entered his chambers, and you wondered if he was displeased with something. "Um.... Am I in trouble?" You question him, twiddling your fingers together. Alastor quickly turned back around to face you, eyes widen before going back to normal, while a soft smile was placed on his face. "Heavens no! You are no form of trouble my dear, I can assure you. There is just something I need from you however." He walk closer into his room, removing his coat jacket and setting it on the chair next to his desk, revealing his red striped shirt that was hidden. He ventured closer to his bed, removing his black shoes before taking a seat on it while crossing his legs. His eyes went back up to look at you, extending his hand out, inviting you to join him.

Your face flushed for a bit, as you made your way over to where Alastor resided, taking a seat on his bed, facing him. The both of you sat in silence, before Alastor broke it. "If my memory serves me correctly, your demon form is similar to that of a sea siren. Am I correct, my dear?" He turned to face you, peering down at you while you looked at him. Your answer to his question was a small nod. "Splendid! That will be quite useful for me!" Alastor seemed almost giddy with joy, making you feel a bit confused. "Can I ask a question?" You asked Alastor. Alastor continued to stare at you, telling you to go ahead. "Why is my nature going to be beneficial for you?" Alastor eyes gazed into yours, as they were filled with confusion. Heaving a sigh, Alastor slowly grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "As much as it pains me to say this, but I need your help, darling. I am aware of the soothing hypnotic voices of sirens, how there gorgeous songs allure sailors. I am asking you if you could sing for me, my dear." Alastor smile almost dropped a bit, his face holding a slight melancholic look as he continued to stare at you. You continued to look at him, before you asked him why you needed to sing to him.

Alastor heaved another sigh, rubbing his hair with his other hand. "It has been a drastically long time, since I have enjoyed the comforts of my own bed. However, falling asleep has not been an easy task for me, and along with the chores that I have completed for sweet Charlie. I crave a good rest now more then ever." Upon observing his face, you noticed the dark circles that appeared underneath his eyes. His smile as well seemed a bit forced, almost as if he was having a hard time keeping it up. Your heart ached for him, as you placed you squeezed his hand that was still holding yours. "I will help you Alastor, but there is something you have to do for me." Alastor raised an eyebrow at you, asking what it was that you needed. "Well, could you use your powers to soundproof the room? My siren voice may reach the others, and cause them to fall asleep as well." SNAP! Within an instant, Alastor had snapped his fingers, preventing any sound from reaching out the room.

With a nod of your head, you moved further back on the bed, waiting to make room for your transformation. A dark light enveloped your form, as your body became covered in black and white scales, and your legs had morphed together into a long mermaid tail, causing your pajama pants to slide off. Alastor continued to gaze at you in amazement, finding your form truly haunting while incredibly beautiful. Once you had completed your transformation, you leaned back against the pillow, raising both your hands up towards Alastor. Alastor stood stiff, confused at your actions. "Come here." you said, keeping your arms stretched out. Alastor realized what you meant, his cheeks become a tad flushed. "M-my dear, there is no need-" His words were cut off, as you pulled him down. His head had landed on your chest, as his whole body was placed on top of you, with his legs rested on your lower tail. Your arms wrapped around him, placing one against his hair, giving it a rub. "Shh its alright Alastor. I just want you to be comfortable okay?" Alastor hadn't moved when he was on top of you, apparently not use to actions like this. His body soon began to relax, as he nuzzled closer into your chest, moving his arms to wrap them around your back. His actions caused a soft smile to appear on your face, as you continued to play with his hair. "I'm going to start singing now, are you ready?" You looked down, waiting for his answer. Alastor peaked one of his eyes out from your chest, giving you a small nod. Giggling at his cuteness, you moved the hand from his hand to rub at his cheek, before placing it back on his red locks.

Taking a few deep breaths, you leaned your head back against the pillow. Soon, you opened your mouth, and began to sing.

(THIS SONG IS SO SOOTHING, I LOVE IT!!)

𝄞 Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eye as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwell, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair

And I have left my parents and three thousands pounds a year

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea

While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn

And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold 𝄞

Your beautiful song had ended, leaving the room in a calming silence. Looking down, you motioned your head to look at Alastor. His head was still nuzzled on your chest, the one eye that had peaked to look at you had closed. His breathing was slowed and he was letting out small static-like snores and a few purrs. Smiling warmly, you leaned closer to his head, giving it a soft kiss. Your hand left his head, and began to reach for the blanket nearby on the bed, motioning it to have it lay over both you and Alastor. You placed your hand back on his hair, giving it a comforting rub, as you leaned back against the pillow, whispering, "Good night Alastor."

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@lousypotatoes

[memesmunsigra]

[vivianquill]

Tango couldn't remember the last time he slept.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd worked on a redstone project either.

That was irrelevant! He was perfectly fine. There was a reason he was down by Gem's docks. Right?

"Tango?"

Speak of the devil and she shall appear! That was Gem herself, pulling Tango around. He didn't want to, there was something about the--

"Tango. Tango, hey." Gem forced him to meet her eyes, "Don't tell me you've been possessed again. After last time? C'mon man, you said you'd. . . do. . ."

Tango didn't know what Gem was talking about. He wasn't possessed. Tango knew what that felt like and that wasn't this.

Gem got an odd look in her eye, before latching her hand around his wrist and dragging him back up the path towards his house. But--

That wasn't home anymore.

Not when his place was down by the water-- in the water-- he was waiting for someone to come back--

"No-- Tango-! Ugh." Gem planted herself between Tango and the mists over the water-- the place where he had promised to be.

Tango found himself sitting at the edge of the dock. There was something tied around his wrist, but he didn't mind. The tips of his boots were dragging in the foam.

"Tango, homie-buddie. It's freezing out here, you should come inside." Skizz had rested a hand on Tango's shoulder.

"Can't you hear it?" Tango asked, breathless as it came back.

The song was promising him the answers to everything. He just had to be here to hear it. To decipher it's song.

"Hear what?"

Tango was fighting against the pull of hands, trying to take him away. His friends-- not friends anymore-- they wanted to take the music for themselves-- "I promised! I promised--"

His mouth was full of the taste of blood. Blood and cotton and he couldn't hear the rush of the waves anymore. He was too warm. There were voices nearby.

"How is he?" Oh, Tango recognized that voice, that was Xisuma.

"Still unresponsive. Is Ren-?" That sounded like Impulse.

"The same way."

Impulse sighed, "He's too quiet. Tango's never been this quiet."

"I'm listening." Tango had to listen otherwise he might miss the music.

He couldn't remember who the music went to, but-- It was someone he needed to be there for. How long had it been? He needed to get back to the water.

Tango was on his feet, trying to push past the arms holding him back. There was a snarl pooling on his tongue, frustration sparking deep in his bones. He needed to get back to the water.

He yelped as someone slammed into his back, knocking Tango off his feet and into the grass. He writhed, kicking, his tail lashing and sparking as he struggled to get free. There was nothing in his inventory. He had nothing but his hands and his fire and the grass around him and they were closing in--

Tango was floating in the bay, Gem's conduit letting him breathe like he should be able to. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his fire was sputtering, angry about being underwater.

Well too bad fire, cause Tango was right where he was supposed to be.

As evidenced by who was in front of him.

The someone, the who he'd promised to be there for when he returned.

The song wrapped around him like a blanket, smothering the chill from the sea and guiding Tango close. He didn't quite remember where he'd met them before but he knew that this was the right thing.

Until he was out of the conduit's range.

Until the water that was so welcoming before now choked at his air and bit at his warmth.

Until the song that'd promised him everything suddenly disappeared.

A hand hauled Tango out of the water by the back of his shirt, dumping him in a sopping heap on the sand. He spit up half the ocean by the time he was able to breathe again.

He was hearing words, but he couldn't figure out what Skizz was saying. Or Impulse for that matter. The music was gone though.

It had abandoned him and now?

Tango didn't know what to do next.

[futuristicson]

[bennflynt]

Girls!

[wintervalewritersecond]

siren song ||| - xavier thorpe

requested: yes! requests: open! siren song part three!

part one, part two click here for my masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for the overwhelming love! i never expected this to blow up, but i couldn't have done it without the person also requesting this! thank you all and i hope you enjoy the next chapter <3 like last time it picks up immediately where the other chapter ended! let me know what you think and enjoy! <3

wordcount: 4,581 warnings: she/her reader, some cursing, sad xavier

Ajax tells Xavier about what happened. Xavier takes everything into his own hands, which may or may not include sneaking into your room. He finds out the truth.

Ajax awkwardly lets out a laugh. He had a list with answers in his head with a correct response to it, but this one was not on the list.

"What do you mean? Xavier. Your best friend?"

You furrow your brows, shaking your head. The name 'Xavier' is not extremely common, definitely not in a small town like Jericho. Besides, you would know your own best friends, right?

"Ajax, I think you have been smoking too much. I know no one by the name of Xavier."

He looks at you like you have grown an extra head. Are you joking right now, or are you dead serious? You look just as confused as him, and you aren't really the best actress. It is already hard for you to keep a birthday gift a secret, so acting as if someone does not exist at all would be impossible.

"I- What?" The Gorgon shakes his head. "I might be wrong then. Don't worry about it."

The two of you return to your own tasks. You are still doing your Botany homework while Ajax sits and stares off into nothingness.

His head is a jumbled mess. Do you really not remember your best friend? Xavier told him what happened, but he wanted to hear it from you as well. Not that he thought Xavier was lying about what he had said, but just because he wanted to make sure you were doing okay.

It was truly strange, though. Yes, you had a big fight with Xavier, but ignoring someone and forgetting someone is a whole other fact. Not to mention that you didn't even so much react to the name.

Xavier needs to hear this.

-

"Dude!"

Ajax runs through the door as Xavier lets out a yelp, dropping his pencil to the floor. It's late at night already, does he not realize most people are sleeping already?

"Ajax, you can't just burst in at eleven pm?! You're lucky I don't have a roommate anymore-"

"Listen," he closes the door behind him, sitting down on the empty bed that once belonged to Rowan while catching his breath. "Dude, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. "

Xavier picks up the pencil from the ground, placing it on his sketchbook before closing it. The sketch was of you. For the last few weeks, he has drawn nothing other than you. Memories he has with you, things you have done together, and even only some half-finished sketches.

"What could possibly be so important right now-"

"Y/N forgot about you."

Xavier straightens his back, his eyes big as he looks at his friend. He has to be kidding right?

"That can't be," Xavier lets out a breathy laugh. "I would have expected her to ignore me, yes, but how can she forget me?"

"I thought she was kidding at first. I asked her what happened at the Rave'n and she said nothing about it," Ajax rolls off of the bed, pacing around the room. "And I thought that the fight would be something she would mention. Then I asked specifically what happened between you and her, but all she asked was 'Who is Xavier?'!"

The boy is at a loss for words. It is like every single word is pulled out of his head, replaced by a pounding headache.

"Are you sure? She- She is not the best actress, was it really not fake?"

Ajax shakes his head, breathing in deeply before rubbing his hands on his face.

"Nothing. Nada. If you even got close to guessing what a gift was going to be she would always immediately tell us, right? She didn't even flinch when I said your name. And then she told me she has never, ever met someone with the name Xavier."

The Gorgon places a hand on his friend's shoulder, slightly squeezing it before letting go again. Neither of them has any idea of what to do.

"I'll just try again," Xavier whispers. "Worst case scenario is that she genuinely doesn't want to talk again. I- Thank you, Ajax."

"Take it easy, okay?"

After a goodbye he exits the room, leaving the artist stuck in his own dorm. Only he and his thoughts. Thoughts seem to be racing through his head as his heart is pounding against his chest. He was a total asshole, but he just hopes that you still hear him out.

-

"Hey, Bianca?"

The Siren had placed herself on your bed, flipping through a magazine. The room had been quiet for a bit, only the sound of your laptop, pages flipping, and the soft instrumental music in the background. Bianca hums, looking up from the paper.

"I was in the library with Ajax," you slowly say, your leg bouncing up and down. "And... He said something really weird."

Fuck.

She should have known that Xavier and Ajax were going to be up to something. It's not like she didn't notice Xavier trying to talk to you. He tactically counted the seconds on when he should stand up just to be close to you, even bump into you if he had to. But the Song made it so you kept your distance.

A pen floats in front of your face as you try to distract yourself. You didn't use your telekinesis a lot, but your mind has not been on your laptop anyway.

"Oh?" Bianca raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah," you mumble before suddenly turning around on your chair, facing your friend. "Who is Xavier?"

"Xavier?"

You nod as the pen behind you falls back on your desk. You have not been able to get the name out of your head, repeating it over and over again to try and find some memory attached to him.

Bianca bites her cheeks. Is she to tell you? Or should it be kept a secret? Before the Siren Song, you did not really talk about it. But Bianca wouldn't hold the truth from you. She only wants to protect you from him, something you consented to.

"Xavier is," Bianca hesitates. "A student here at Nevermore. He did something incredibly stupid and dumb."

"Do I know him?"

She doesn't want to cause you any distress. She can say no, but then once the Siren Song breaks, it would only be worse. If she says yes, then you might go seeking answers.

"You used to."

-

Bianca didn't say much more after that. In a way, she was completely honest. She did tell you that you used to know him, but you had made your intentions very clear. Forget about Xavier and just have a moment of peace and quiet to yourself. It had worked for weeks now, yet Xavier doesn't feel like he has changed one bit.

During class, he still tries to get your attention, but Kent and Bianca are quick to shut him down. Kent doesn't know about the Siren Song, though. No, if he did, then the entire school would have heard it already. He just thinks that you want to stay out of Xavier's way, still mad because of the fight. It is true, in a way.

You were quiet the entire day. Not quite sulking, but you were thinking. Why is it that you can't recall anything about him? You even sneak some glances at the long-haired boy. He seems... Miserable. His eyes are dark, his eyebrows are stuck in a frown, and his hair is just messily placed in a small bun. He does not look bad, but just upset.

Even during lunch, you didn't really say a word. You insisted that you just needed some time and that your social battery was dead. But Bianca knew you were thinking about Xavier. If he just had not pulled this, everything would have been fine. She hasn't heard anyone talk about a Siren Song though, so he doesn't know the truth just yet.

Another few days go by before it is finally Friday again. For the entire week, Xavier had been trying to talk to you, but you have always hurried away from him. Not to mention that especially Bianca and Kent almost formed a wall around you. But Xavier also isn't the person to start drama in the entire Quad. So he waited. Patiently waited. During this time, he came up with a plan. Was it smart? Probably not. But this was the only time he could talk to you.

It is well after ten, which meant that everyone had to stay in their dorms. But Xavier had other ideas. He had sneaked out, running through the halls and out into the side of Nevermore. Your balcony had a fire escape, one that he used quite often to sneak in or out when he would hear Thornhill coming. It is a bit too dangerous to walk through those halls right now, especially considering he might wake people up. He doesn't have the patience to take his time right now, wanting to reach you as fast as possible.

He runs up the long flight of stairs, catching his breath once he finally reaches the top. He thought that running would make this a bit easier, but it doesn't seem to work too well. Your window is similar as to the one in Enid and Wednesday's dorm. It has the same spiderweb-like pattern, though yours is missing the colorful stickers on it.

Your side of the room is decorated with lots of smaller lights. The lightbulbs in the Nevermore lights seem to be dim, and you always insisted that the smaller lights looked more fun anyway. He stands in front of the window, trying to look through the glass.

"Y/N? Are you in there?"

Nothing. At least, no response from you. He can hear the clicking of your keyboard.

"I know you're still mad at me," he says again. "And I totally understand it. I have been wanting to talk to you, but Bianca and Kent always stand between us."

Nothing, again.

He looks behind him to make sure no one followed him before he pushes the bottom of the window, opening it before sneaking in.

There you sit.

It is like this is the first time he has ever seen you. At least, it feels like it. You are sitting with your back towards him, your head moving to the music that sounds through the headphones on your head. It was a gift that Xavier had gotten you for your birthday.

You had been planning to buy a new one for a while, but it was hard to save up money. So, he decided to go with you to the closest store to try some out. You had fallen in love with these, but they were quite expensive. So, as you had already walked out of the store, Xavier had quickly paid for them, hiding them in his backpack before giving them to you on your birthday.

You were even wearing his burgundy-colored t-shirt. You must remember him then, right? He slowly walks over to you, tapping you on your shoulder before he aggressively gets thrown against a wall. Ouch.

You turned around in shock, seeing the boy pinned against the wall.

"Oh!" You exclaim, immediately releasing him from your invisible grip. "I'm sorry-"

You squint at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Wait a second," you point at him. "There are no boys allowed in Ophelia Hall. And definitely, no boys that I don't know!"

Xavier stands back up, a pained expression on his face before he shakes his head.

"I just needed to talk to you for a sec, and you know what happened the last time Thornhill saw me in the halls."

Actually, you didn't.

"You have never been in my room."

You stand opposite the tall boy, looking him up and down. He feels familiar to you, and you are guessing that this is the 'Xavier' that Ajax and Bianca had mentioned. He licks his lips before letting out a deep breath.

"Look, Y/N, I know that you are still mad at me, but-"

"The only reason why I would be mad is because a stranger randomly showed up in my dorm room!"

His shoulders slump as he looks at you. Not one part of you recognizes him.

"Well, ever since the Rave'n and the fight we haven't spoken. I know that I was very, very wrong for doing that to you and you deserve much better," he runs his hands through his hair. "But I really need to apologize."

"Xavier, is it?" You awkwardly laugh. "I think you are mistaken. I don't recall seeing you at the dance, much less having a fight. I'm sorry?"

Should you say sorry? Surely he must recognize the person he had a fight with, and it wasn't you. His heart slowly chips away at itself, less and less connected to each other once he truly realizes you don't remember him.

"You truly don't remember, do you?"

His voice breaks a bit as he starts fiddling with his hands. You look up at the boy, feeling quite bad for him. He does look truly confused and stressed.

"No," you grimace. "Sorry. Truly."

"Nothing? Not even from the Rave'n or- or before that?"

"Everything I remember from the Rave'n is dancing, drinking some of those weird, blue drinks, and then that disgusting paint drenching everyone. After that, I just went to my dorm to try and get all of that out of my clothes and hair." You shrug, still looking up at him. "The only thing I did after, was hanging out with Bianca and sleeping."

There really is not one bit of you that remembers him. Or, you have just become a really good actress overnight. He did really hurt you, but he didn't think you would actually forget him. Xavier pulls on his scarf, coughing awkwardly as he nods.

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm really sorry, Xavier," you look at your window which is still slightly open. "Look, you are very pretty and you must also be super nice, but I think it is better if you leave. I hope you find the person you were looking for."

He nods silently, climbing back out of the window before descending the stairs, not once looking back.

The way back through Nevermore is slower. He doesn't feel the need to hurry anymore. Ajax was absolutely right. There was not one memory of Xavier left in you. Not even when you see him up close, when you smell the perfume he always wears, not even when you wear one of his shirts that he left behind.

Did a witch cast a spell on you, leaving you without any memories of him? There are witches at Nevermore, so it isn't unlikely. But how can it be that you remember everyone except for him? Ajax, Wednesday, Kent, Bianca-

Bianca.

If you recall going to the girl after the Rave'n, then that must be the whole reason why you forgot about Xavier.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he groans, picking up his pace before sneaking into the dorms where Bianca sleeps.

He should have known it. Bianca and you had gotten closer after he screamed at you, but he thought it was because you needed someone to talk to. After all, he turned to Ajax to talk about his problems. But, Bianca has one thing that not a lot of others at Nevermore have; the Siren Song.

He doesn't want to accuse her of having used it, the last time it ended badly. But he does want to know if she had anything to do with it.

Once he reaches Bianca's dorm, he knocks on the door. Not softly, either. He doesn't care if someone sees him now.

The Siren opens the door, an annoyed look on her face which turns even more annoyed when she sees Xavier. She expected him to show up sooner or later, and today was finally the moment.

"Do you not realize that it's almost twelve?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Just let me in," he groans.

Xavier is not here to play games. He wants, no, needs the truth. He needs to hear it, because if it isn't the Song, then he doesn't know what else it could be. Bianca steps to the side, closing the door behind him before crossing her arms.

"What do you want, Xavier?"

"Did you use your Siren Song on Y/N?"

"Why would I tell you?" She raises an eyebrow.

She just walks past him, back to sitting on her bed and scrolling through her phone. Xavier only stares at her, at a loss for words.

"I'm serious, Bianca. Just give me a yes or a no."

"Hm," she hums. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

The boy stays quiet, only looking at the girl. Please, just a simple answer. That is all he needs.

"To be completely ignored by someone you like?" She stands back up with a smirk on her face, throwing her phone on her bed before stepping closer to Xavier. "That, no matter how hard you try, she doesn't even bat an eye at you? Much less say your name?"

"What do you mean?" He grits his teeth. "Just give me an answer."

A smirk is still on her face as she shrugs. She has no need to tell him. Besides, he deserves it. He deserves to suffer, just in the same way you did. No matter how much she believes he has feelings for you; he has to find it out himself.

"Come on, Xavier," she lets out a sigh. "I will not help you if you don't get your head out of your ass."

"Bianca, please."

She takes a good look at the guy in front of her. He might be extremely stupid, but she can't help but feel bad for him. Yes, he is the entire reason that you had felt bad for weeks, and though she still thinks that he has to learn a lesson, he might need the truth.

"Fine," the Siren grits her teeth. "After the Rave'n, she came to my room. Like, right after your fight. Asked me to use my Siren Song and I told her that I would think about it."

She steps away from Xavier, pulling the piece of paper that you had previously signed out of her desk drawer.

"Then I saw how miserable she looked and how much you ignored her," Bianca points at Xavier, holding up the piece of paper. "So, with Y/N's permission, I used it."

This was everything he was scared of. He knew he was wrong, he knew he had to make things right, but he had no idea how bad he had gotten.

"You have to undo it, Bianca. I'm serious."

"Why?" She raises an eyebrow. "So you can go ahead and break her heart again by hanging out with the psycho?"

"No!" He exclaims, running his hands through his hair while letting out a sigh. "So I can make it up to her! I just-"

He paces around the room, fiddling with his fingers and pulling on his scarf. He still had not discarded his winter jacket, he simply couldn't be bothered.

"I really like her, Bianca."

"Then tell me why you ignored her."

Xavier doesn't have one reason. It might be because he truly believed you didn't like him back, he could have been too insecure, maybe because he got pulled into Wednesday's theories about some monster, or maybe he was just a total asshole.

It stays quiet for a good minute. Bianca then just places the paper back in its original place, leaning against her desk before looking up at the boy.

"I'll ask her," she mumbles. "I'm not promising you anything. I only do this because I know she likes you. You better get your shit together, Xavier. Now, get out of my dorm."

-

It was Saturday which meant that you went to Jericho. This time, you went with Enid, Wednesday, and Bianca. You and Enid tried to keep some distance between Wednesday and Bianca, knowing they aren't best friends. Even though Jericho is not a big town, it still has enough little stores to explore.

At one point, Enid had dragged Bianca with her, leaving you together with Wednesday outside of Weathervane. You sat on the little bench, just in silence as Wednesday was reading a book and you were sketching in a small little notebook.

"I want to ask you a question."

You look up from your sketch, looking at Wednesday.

"Sure!"

"What happened between you and Xavier?"

You raise an eyebrow, shrugging.

"I don't know why everyone keeps asking that. Nothing, I think?"

Wednesday doesn't seem to believe it. She has an eye for lies, not to mention that she is talented at finding out the truth. Most of the time, that is.

"You can not believe that that will fool me. Xavier has only been sulking for the last few weeks. He is living up to the whole tortured artist thing."

"Well, I hope he gets better soon. But I had nothing to do with it, Wednesday. Really."

"What are you girls talking about?"

Enid suddenly jumps out, a big smile on her face as she holds a small bag.

"Nothing," Wednesday shakes her head before closing her book. "Let's go back. These Jericho people make me want to throw up."

-

You take your shopping bags upstairs as Bianca follows you. The two of you were going to go through everything you bought. After all the bags had been emptied and all the items were tried on again, Bianca speaks up.

"I have to talk to you about something."

What is it with everyone suddenly being so serious?

"If it is about Xavier, I truly don't know what happened. He showed up in my room, insisted on apologizing for a fight that never happened, and then left again."

"It did," Bianca grimaces. "You don't remember what you asked from me?"

You slowly shake your head. You can't really think of anything at this moment. The only thing you feel is confusion. You hadn't known anything about Xavier before you finally heard his name when he sneaked into your room.

Bianca looks at you before nodding, breathing in deeply. She has to tell you; you might have changed your mind.

"You used to know Xavier. Really well, actually."

Question marks almost appear above your head.

"He... kind of ignored you for a few weeks," Bianca looks at you. "Then stood you up again at the Rave'n. You asked me to use a Siren Song on you."

You are at a loss for words. The poor boy had spent weeks being miserable for something you didn't even remember. But, from what you understand, he had done something horrible to you too.

"Okay," you just whisper, nodding your head. "So... For a few weeks now?"

"Yeah," Bianca takes the folded piece of paper out of her pocket, handing it to you. "This is what we agreed on. I just... Wanted to check in on what your thoughts are now. You didn't really let me know about the Song ending in any way, even though we both aren't sure if it'll work."

It stays quiet for a moment as you read the letter over and over. You try hard to remember it, but it just doesn't come back up. Nothing. Nothing about Xavier, nothing about the Song, not even the good memories you had with him.

"Do you think anything changed?"

Bianca looks at you as you hold out the piece of paper to her.

"What do you mean?"

"Xavier," you mumble. "Did anything change? The Song wasn't for nothing, right? If I really used to be best friends with him..."

Did he? He did spend weeks in his art studio, sketching every single memory he had of you with him. He tried to map out exactly when to run into you, He had even broken rules to apologize to you, finally getting his jumbled thoughts straight.

"I think he did. He is well on his way. I might have tried to set him straight," she lets out a laugh. "I told him he had to get his shit together. He really cares about you, but he just doesn't know how to deal with it."

"He might need some therapy," you shake your head. "I feel like it has been long enough, right?"

"You want to undo the Song?"

You nod, sitting down on your bed while looking up at her.

"Maybe he didn't mean it. I don't remember a lot about him, it's like I have only seen him vaguely in a dream or in the background of a picture. I trust him."

"Okay," she nods, "Let's try this. But, I am not too sure if it will work."

The least you could do is try, right?

"What do you think about... 'Remember Xavier from then to now, it is no question as to how. The Siren Song will now end, old memories will now again blend.'? You will remember everything from now on top of your old memories. I hope."

"Let's do it."

The amulet gets removed from her neck as she looks at you with a gentle smile on her face. She truly does wish you the best.

"Remember Xavier from then to now, it is no question as to how. The Siren Song will now end, old memories will start to blend."

Nothing.

It stays quiet for a few seconds before you look up at Bianca who is placing the amulet around her neck again.

"Is it supposed to work immediately?"

She looks you up and down.

"Usually, yes... You don't have your memories back?"

You slowly shake your head.

"Absolutely nothing."

This is exactly what Bianca feared. Though you knew the risk was there, it still was extremely disappointing that it couldn't be changed.

"What if I start over? If Xavier and I became friends once, we might become friends again, right?"

"That is something you need to decide yourself," Bianca takes her bag in her hands. "Do what you are most comfortable with. My input? It might be worth it."

A smile is on her face as she turns around to walk out of your dorm, pausing for a second before looking back at you.

"Xavier is a good guy. Genuinely. He just needs a little push sometimes."

-

Xavier had finally laid down on his bed, his hair still wet from the shower. He had taken the hottest shower ever, trying to get his mind off of things, yet it didn't work. He was back to sketching all he could remember of you. All pages up to now were filled with your face.

When his phone buzzes, he feels like he wants to throw it around the room. He is not in the mood to talk to anyone, but he had to turn on his alarm still anyway. The light of the phone is extremely bright as he squints his eyes, trying to shield himself from the brightness. But his eyes fly open when he sees the notification that made him grab the phone in the first place.

Y/N ♡

hi xavier! could we talk soon? let me know when you have time :)

He can not believe his eyes. He immediately sits back up, typing on his phone like crazy. With shaking hands, he finally sends you a response.

xav!

yeah! any time tomorrow?

He nervously stares at his screen, seeing the notification of your typing pop up.

Y/N ♡

sure! some relaxing before the visiting week, haha :) see you tomorrow!

------------------------

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@roacchan

[magicalmyths]

"events that do not occur in the source material"

Thats all the info we're getting apparently, you poor people thinking you'd get a siren song were wrong!! (I was one of them)

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 5 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

Summary: The Essex sinks and the crew is forced to test their luck. As Matthew's luck begins to run out, he waits for his Siren to save him.

Warnings: Shipwreck, thalassophobia, stranded at sea, abandonment, and drowning. This is a long installment but it is also the last installment of the series! Thank you for bearing with me. I think the end makes it worth it. I've been really busy so I apologize for the quality of this piece. It's sad... sorry.

word count: 3174k

Last Goodbye- Jeff Buckley 🎶

I Know the End- Pheobe Bridgers 🎵

Fear Not This Night- Clamavi De Profundis 🎶

Not proofread, sorry folks!

“Absolutely not, that is OUT of the question!” Captain Pollard slammed his pale fist against the table. “We cannot alter our course just because my second-mate says so.” 

“With all due respect sir, I believe it would be a death-sentence for our crew to chase the storm just to track down a whale that seems to have something against you,” Matthew’s lip curled as he tried to keep his composure. 

“I am the captain of this vessel, not you Joy. I’d like to remind you of that fact.” 

“It is a fair observation, sir. The men are all worried about the true intentions behind this choice,” Owen piped up from the corner of the room. 

“I don’t take orders from either of you, do you understand?” Captain Pollard’s voice was harsh as his tongue crushed against his teeth. He raised an authoritative eyebrow and Matthew swallowed. 

“I have reason to believe that this will only lead to disaster, sir. It is my job to speak on behalf of my experience and the lives of the men under my command-”

“And WHO, Joy, is under my command?” The captain leaned forward and clasped his hands together. The lantern above their heads swayed. 

Matthew met his eyes and clenched his jaw. Y/N’s warning swirled around in his memory like a tidal pool. How could he balance respect with advocacy? He had to talk some sense into the Captain before it was too late. 

“Answer my question, second-mate.” The captain’s eyes narrowed. 

Matthew unfocused his eyes on the man and swallowed down everything that he would have liked to say. 

“We are, sir.” 

“That is exactly right, Joy, and as captain I command you and the rest of my men to chase the storm. It will dissipate soon and in that time, we will have the whale.”

The lantern sailed across the room, smashing against the wall of the ship. The wick’s fire lay exposed and set some of the floor on fire. Before Matthew could throw anything on the fire to quell it, the ship jerked once again. The men scrambled to stay upright, their eyes met each others’ in the dark. 

“What the hell was that?” Captain Pollard asked breathlessly, fear showing in his tone. 

“That wasn’t a wave,” Owen whispered. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Matthew didn’t have to say the word whale. They all knew. 

…

Matthew grabbed his coat on the way up to the deck. Men ran around him, shouting orders and carrying rope. The harpooners prepared their weapons and watched from the railing. The shiny white back of the whale slipped below the surface a few yards out, its tail flicked up into the air and slammed down on the side of the boat. Matthew was knocked off of his feet and rolled, cringing from his sore back. Part of the sail and railing fell into the ocean below, men scrambled to stay onboard and not be dragged down with the debris. He watched helplessly as the boat started to break apart beneath his feet. 

“Everyone get to the boats! Grab as many supplies as you can in case we need to abandon ship!” Matthew yelled. Owen reached his friend and grabbed onto Matthew’s collar. 

“We need to get off this ship, Joy. If we stay here much longer we will have to go down with her.”

“Take your men and I’ll take mine.” 

“We need to wait for Pollard’s orders.”

“Fuck his orders, come on.” 

Matthew ran to the railing and helped loosen the ropes holding the smaller whaling boats to the deck. Men dropped food and drinking water into the bottom of the boat as the ship groaned and splintered beneath their feet. 

There was a deafening explosion at the stern of the Essex, a plume of fire rose into the air. The men were silenced by the violence and panted, watching the fire catch quickly and begin to burn. 

“She hit the oil canisters! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!” Pollard tripped across the debris-ridden deck of the sinking ship. 

Pollard, Owen, and Matthew each manned a boat and organized the men into the whaling boats before they were lowered into the water. The ship burned quickly. The explosion had killed many of the sailors who had been standing on the deck. They were already a dwindled crew by the time they pushed off from the ship and rowed to a safe distance away. Matthew watched with watery eyes as the Essex sank in a fiery blaze. 

…

They’d been on the boats for hours and the late afternoon sun was baking them alive. They’d connected their boats together in an effort to share supplies and keep an eye on each other. Matthew tried to push his fury and genuine shock down so that his men couldn’t see it. The whole event had only lasted an hour, ridiculously short. Everything that they’d owned went down with the whaling ship, friends too. 

Matthew wiped sweat from his brow and tried not to glower at Owen and Pollard who spoke to each other out of his earshot. He looked down at his hands which were starting to turn red in the direct sunlight. The men in his boat were slouched against one another or lying at the very bottom between the slats. He caught himself thinking about that night he’d taken the Siren for the first time. Memories of fleeting risk seemed like child’s play in comparison to life-and-death decisions the sinking had prompted from everyone. 

He looked out at the infinite expanse of water and tried to call her to his mind, they’d done as much before when he was drowning. Surely she could see him now, surely she would do something to help them. She knew something like this would happen, she’d warned him about it. He hadn’t even had time to try to avoid the disaster, it all seemed so unfair…

The boat beside him splashed up and down abruptly. Matthew caught his breath and watched as the bottom of the boat slapped the surface of the water as it returned to its first position. Everyone froze. 

“It’s back,” Matthew whispered and as he did, the water beside him burst up into a fountain of waves. A great big eye and white blubber body surged up into the sky above him and tumbled inches away from the boats. 

“Disconnect the fucking boats!” Matthew ordered and cut the ropes holding the boats together. Being connected made them a larger target and a weaker link. Every sailor pushed away and soon the four boats were separated by yards of messy waves. 

The whale emerged again, this time boring into Matthew’s boat. Matthew fell back as the boat broke down the middle and men went flying. He fell into the water and pushed away from the boat so he wouldn’t get caught. Air bubbles escaped from his mouth as he opened his eyes underwater. He could see the whale swimming through the wreck, knocking men out of its path or pushing them deeper. Matthew swam to the surface and whipped his head around to clear the hair from his face. The men in the other boats were aiming their harpoons at the vulnerable side of the beast. Matthew grabbed a hold of a barrel of water to keep himself afloat. Some of his men began to resurface but most did not. Those that did each found a piece of floating debris and watched as the other men tried to kill the whale. 

Matthew’s heart was beating a mile a minute and he couldn’t catch his breath. He watched as the back of the whale’s fin rose high into the sky above them, blocking the sun, and then down it went onto one of the other boats, breaking a second one. The wave created by the tail scattered the men even farther apart and sent Matthew spiraling out of control. His head slammed against the side of Owen’s boat and knocked him unconscious. 

“Kill it! Kill it!” Captain Pollard nearly screeched, blood dripping from a cut on his lip. 

…

Matthew came-to on Owen’s boat, nestled between people’s legs. 

“Joy?” Owen’s voice pulled him from his dreamless sleep. Matthew blinked behind his eyelids and tried to speak but his throat was dry. He licked his cracked lips. 

“Howw… how bad is it?” Matthew groaned and went to touch the back of his head. 

Owen swallowed and looked back at the men in the boat. 

“It’s really not that bad, Joy. It’s just a little bleeding and some bruising. You’ll be fine.” 

Matthew didn’t feel fine. Things didn’t seem right. For instance, the men around him looked more scruffy than they had the day before. They looked older and sickly. He furrowed his brow and looked around the boat.

“You were out for a few days. I mean you woke up multiple times but you weren’t actually aware.” Owen admitted. 

“Days?” Matthew repeated softly and Owen nodded. Matthew tried to sit up but his head began to pound painfully. He raised his hands in front of his face to block the aggressive glare of the sun. 

“Try not to move, you need to recover.” Owen straightened the blanket over his friend. 

“The sun…” Matthew groaned and his voice broke. His mouth was horribly dry and tasted like dried blood. 

“I know but the sun will set soon. Just close your eyes.” Owen tried to block the sun with his shoulders and the shade was a welcome relief for Matthew. He began to fall asleep again, rapidly losing his ability to stay awake and aware. 

“Owen…” he whispered, “did she come back… for me?” 

Owen’s face began to blur as Matthew fell asleep. He didn’t stay awake long enough to hear his response. 

…

When Matthew woke up again he was being half-dragged and half-carried through the water. He flailed about between the arms of his savior. 

“Joy! Stop that.” Owen’s voice reprimanded him. Matthew looked up. Instead of his friend, he saw a scraggly man with an unkempt beard and foul smelling clothes. 

“Owen?” Matthew garbled and Owen chuckled weakly. 

“Do I really look that bad? Well I hate to break it to you but you don’t look so good yourself.” 

“Don’t beat me while I’m down, Owen.” Matthew tried to laugh but started to cough. He was too weak to cough and grimaced instead.

“Where are we?” Matthew asked as Owen rearranged him in his arms. 

“We spotted land this morning.”

“Are we home?”

“No, we found an island. It’s not much but it’s land.” Owen stepped onto the solid beach and lowered Matthew to the ground against a tree. 

“Stay here, I’m going to help the others look for shelter and food.” Owen patted Matthew on his hollow chest. Matthew smirked and nodded. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.” Matthew laughed softly. 

“You still have your sense of humor, good.” Owen limped away with a small group of similarly starved men. Matthew could only imagine what he looked like. He raised his hands to feel his hair and then his face. He had a long beard and sun blisters buried deep in his face. His hands shook as he moved them to his lap.

His eyes rested on the shore where the bright blue water swept out upon the beach. He could feel himself whispering her name beneath his breath like a prayer. Had she protected them this entire time? Had she ensured that they would find land? 

Where was she now? Matthew closed his eyes and knew he’d be crying if wasn’t so dehydrated. 

“Water… I need water…” Matthew tried to call out. One of the sailors sprawled out on the sand, sat up and patted his pockets for a canteen.

“Here, sir.” The sailor offered Matthew his half-empty canteen and unscrewed the cap for him. Matthew took the bottle with shaking hands and raised the bottle to his lips. He took a few small sips and sighed. Even though he wanted to drink the whole bottle, he forced himself to return the container to the young man with blisters across his face. 

“Thank you,” Matthew nodded and leaned his bloody head back against the tree. “How long has it been since the Essex sank?”  

The young boy raised his head in surprise and furrowed his brow. 

“About two weeks, sir.” 

“Did… did a woman or… a siren find us before we got here?” Matthew struggled to ask. The boy darted his eyes away in discomfort before answering. 

“Um no, sir.” 

Matthew closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t have the energy to explain to the boy what he meant. In his head he could see the girl again. Her beautiful green eyes glowed in the darkness of his mind and his hands could feel her soft body. 

“Y/N…” he whispered and fell asleep. 

…

“So you’re leaving?” Matthew clarified and Owen nodded. 

“A group of us are going to try to find the mainland.”

“I want to stay. I wouldn't make the trip and we both know that. The men who want to stay can stay with me.” Matthew looked up at the ceiling of the cave they had found away from the beach. They had been on the island for a week now and were running out of food. 

“I’ll tell the men. If we make it back to land… we’ll come back and get you. We’ll come back for you, understand?” 

Matthew nodded and gestured to the men chatting outside in the dark, a fire burning between them. Owen left the cave but his voice carried back to Matthew as he informed the men of their proposed plan. Questions arose from the sailors and Matthew tried to keep himself from sobbing as he accepted the truth:

The Siren had not been back. She had not come when he needed her and he realized then that she never would. She had warned him since the beginning not to trust her but he had. Tears slipped down his face and triggered a headache. His head was bandaged with clean make-shift bandages but the wound still hurt. He cradled his face in his hands and rested his palms against his legs. 

I hate you, Matthew thought. I loved you and you betrayed me. 

…

They left the following day and Matthew was left alone with four other men. They sat in the cave all together and withered away in silence. 

…

A few nights later, Matthew awoke with a start and gasped silently. It had been over a month since the Essex went down. The cave was dark and the sounds of the men sleeping surrounded him. He looked around as best as he could and whimpered softly into the darkness. 

Fear not this night, you will not go astray

Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way

Awaken from a quiet sleep

Hear the whispering of the wind

Awaken as silence grows 

In the solitude of the night

The song reached his ears from far beyond the mouth of the cave, stilling him. He stopped whimpering and fell quiet to hear the haunting music. The woman’s voice was alone, unaccompanied by other voices or music. She sounded like a child singing as she finished a chore. It was a pure and comforting sound that drew Matthew to his knees. He pulled himself up to his feet and grasped the moist walls as he stumbled out. 

The island air was warm and dry around him as his feet reached the sand. He could hear the waves crashing against the beach but the sounds of animals were abnormally absent. He walked further out into the dark, hugging his jacket around his dying body. 

Darkness spreads through all the land and your weary eyes open silently

Sunsets have forsaken all the most far off horizons

Fear not this night, you will not go astray. 

Dawn’s just a heartbeat away. 

And there in the distance, the horizon was starting to lighten as the sun would rise in the following hours. In the meantime, the beach was still dark. Matthew felt his feet carry him to the shoreline where the sand pulled against his ankles. He looked out at the water and forgot why he was there at all. Was he dreaming?

Distant sounds of melodies calling through the night to your heart

He took a few more steps where the water reached his calves. Two hands reached out and touched his scarred face and he flinched away. The hands returned and held his hollow cheeks gently. 

“Matthew,” the voice whispered sweetly but he couldn’t see who was speaking. 

“Who are you?” Matthew whimpered and tried to pull away from the strange hands which were not his own. “Are you an angel of heaven?” 

“Has it really been that long that you’ve forgotten my touch?” 

“I’ve forgotten my own. Who are you?” He asked again, his eyebrows furrowed with suspicion. 

“It’s me, sailor. Your Siren.” Y/N rubbed her thumbs over Matthew’s bulging cheekbones, tears ran down his face without his knowledge. Matthew closed his eyes and shook his head weakly. 

“No, no. She left me weeks ago. I’m dying.” He took a step back but the current caught his heels. 

“Look at me, Matthew. It’s me. I’ve come to take you home.”

Matthew opened his eyes slowly and his lips fell apart. His eyes adjusted in the dark, finally revealing a woman’s familiar face framed in dark hair. She was naked so she appeared to be a star glowing in the dark. 

“It’s not possible. Why would you come back now?” Matthew whispered, his voice breaking. More tears filled his eyes and he tried to control the sobs that threatened him. 

“I never left you, Matthew, but I didn’t know what I could do. I can’t change fate.”

“So this was my fate?” Matthew laughed darkly. He reached out to pet her hair and sniffed. 

“Yes, I couldn’t intervene.”

“I thought you had abandoned me,” Matthew sobbed and curled her hair in his fingers. 

“I’m so sorry, Matthew…”

“But why are you here now?” Matthew trailed his fingers up and down her neck absentmindedly. 

“Like I said, I’ve come to take you home.”

“You were singing…” Matthew noted and stepped closer. The girl cupped his face again and looked up into his bloodshot eyes. 

“I’m singing for you, sailor.” 

She kissed his cheek and reached for his hands. Going slowly, she walked backwards into the sea, singing. Matthew followed her blindly, his mind captured by her ballad and the magical glow in her eyes. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to smile through her song. 

Though the shadows fall, still the stars find their way

Life your voice with the first light of dawn 

Dawn’s just a heartbeat away

Hope’s just a sunrise away

Matthew’s head dipped below the surface and the water consumed him. The song continued in his head as Y/N carried him to his death, ending his suffering and burying the dead.

[sasoukee]

☽⋆ yoυ looĸ loɴεly…ι cαɴ ғιх тнαт⋆☾

[es-draws]