#i can never write a fanfiction without writing the smut you guys

[arggghhhsstuff]

First of: readers are able to differentiate fiction from reality. And what they enjoy in fiction doesn't have much to do with their life. It's not because someone is a slasher movie fan that they kill people, it's not because someone read hardcore smut that they get any action. So when say that fanfiction makes rape 'more normal' in the eyes of rapists I don't follow. They know it's illegal, they just don't care.

If we want to stop rape there are many things to do. Educate people. Teach kids about their bodies and consent so they know when something is wrong. Make sure the justice system does its fucking job and doesn't let rapists walk away without concerns. I can assure you fanfiction is the least of our problems now.

And even if it was fanfiction's fault. What do you want to do? Control what people post on the internet? Put a cop behind every computer, spending their whole day reading porn to figure out if it's non-con or not? That won't work. Because it's stupid, yes, but more importantly because nothing good comes out when the government tries to police the arts. What people like, think and create. And you might not like it and you might find it disgusting and wrong but it's still art. It's people writing what they want. Free will, freedom of speech and all that jazz. And if our government officers have that power, the power to get rid of everything they don't like on the stance that it's "morally wrong", what's next? I'll let you take a fat fucking guess on who the government doesn't like in America today.

The only media you can reasonably talk about controlling when it comes to sex is porn videos, because they include actual real-life people and sometimes these people are getting hurt. That's when it gets concerning and dangerous. When people get hurt. Which is not happening with words on a screen.

But forget all that, let's say that fanfiction depicting non-con or unhealthy relationship dynamics or pedophilia or I don't know what else is influencing people to do the same in real life. What can we do about it? Genuinely. What can we do about it. This has been a discussion in the arts communities for centuries and here's my answer: the artist is not responsible for that the public takes from their art. An art piece is never neutral, it's always saying something, yes. But the interpretation is still up to the guy seeing it. If a guy reads a hermione x snape fanfiction and decides to fuck a kid, well sorry to break it to you but that has nothing to do with the author, and everything to do with that guy wanting to fuck a kid.

i love being a pro-shipper. it's fun. people will be disgusted by something they think is morally wrong and i'll be like "it's all in your head though"

[shuenkio]

Brought the heat back | PsH. 💥

Paring: Sunghoon x M!reader | Genre: SMUT

Synopsis: Arrange married Park Sunghoon who you had never seen since birth, finally took a turn when he realized you're the one.

Cw: explicit scenes, cursing, cumming inside, moaning, whimpering etc (read at your own risk)

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A&N: from ANON request. I'm super sure there'd be awkward parts because I'm stressed out to write a perfect smut but might fail... Nvm enjoy reading. Smut below cut ✓

Enjoy your life at peace eat, drink, work, and sleep. Cycle this routine as life goes on. Until a man who is not your dream shows up. Since his parents and yours used to be hardcore bff when they were young, they wanted to tie the bond together by arranging a forced marriage between Sunghoon Park and M/N.

Disagree to this arrangement would be useless; why on earth would your parents befriend the gangster group out of everyone else? Which makes it worse if you don't want to be married to a man you have never met.

Along with your future groom, maybe at least you expected that he would be a gentleman, is a green flag, have a nice attitude, know what's right or wrong, be mature, talkative, or so on, yet none of these can be seen in him. All Sunghoon had was a face, a body, and a dead-looking, cold face.

He was an ice prince, for real. So on the day both guardians confirmed this ceremony, you couldn't help but wonder: What did you do to deserve all of this? A future husband who couldn't fit your standards—a future husband you didn't even know and love before. What would the tension between this unfold? Just sigh and let it be; better shut up or be breathless.

Later on, after the big party, Sunghoon and M/N were freshly married. Nothing special happened, not even a spare word for each other, any eye contact, especially Park Sunghoon, what's do you expect? All you got on your night together was,

"I don't like you, m/n—don't get your hope up just because we're married; now remember your place,"

and that was the last thing you've heard him say, and it's the most hurtful thing you've ever experienced. Then why? A month had passed since we were married, and you had noticed that Sunghoon's behavior had slightly changed from before.

He has a hot temper whenever you're on the phone with anyone, having a nice conversation with the neighbors, or interacting with anyone passing by when going out, and he can't seem to calm down. Sunghoon himself didn't even know why he felt this way; he said he hated you, but why would he be jealous of somebody else other than him? However, he didn't care if you'd bring up those events when he said those words.

All he knows is that he realizes that nobody else cares about him more than you. M/N, as Sunghoon's husband. Never been a lazy househusband; whatever the tension of hatred is, you still make him eat three times a day. Doing all the shit in the house as if you're the one who brought it. When he was sick, you were never afraid to ask him what's up and how he feels. And that's when he knows that you're the one.

Either you love him or not, he's going to repay you and make you love him back. Who cares right now if you love him or not, because once you're in here, you can't leave in anyway? Coming home after a late-night date, Sunghoon's is full of all the memories and contact you had with the waitress earlier at the restaurant. You were a little too sweet toward those guys. as a result of making him unable to hold back his possessions and jealousy any more. Sunghoon needs to mark you as his own; it's now or never that you are his property only. The eyes contact; ugh, he can't seem to stop the burning sensation inside his brain.

Without further ado, once m/n settles in the bedroom, Sunghoon quickly locks the door slam with one click, and all the windows shut off from the remote. Starlet, by the sudden, you ask him nervously; a look could kill a person's presence on Sunghoon's face. It was dark; if his eyes could glow, it'd be lava red in irritated. Yet he didn't respond with anything. He ripped off his top and threw them away before buckled his belt, prepared to do something to his desire.

You know that you'd be a food to his Hungary by this midnight, all fabric on the floor. What's that mean? Well,  he's probably doing what most couples do; actually, he's going to fuck and drive you nuts. Gulping down a hard lamp in your throat, too scared to run away, too scared to say no, but there's a small part in you that screams you have to let him be; there's must be something underneath after all of this. When you open up for him, exhale what's coming for you. In one motion, both of you and his underwear are nowhere to be seen.

You always wonder, as a boy, what the dick would look like for the hot guy. It is long, small, curved, or what? Yes, Sunghoon was there to unveil that; his cock was gorgeous, he had big, huge ass balls, and the shaft was paler than his skin. His tip is faded pink, and well, the best part is that he's uncut. He doesn't like getting his skin chopped off anyway. Seeing you gone speechless by the view he was giving, only to boost his desire even better, no warning alert, your two legs are thrown across on his shoulder, while his cock is in the position of your small hole.

The atmosphere changes in an instant; the dark, empty bedroom is filled with a burning spark. Neither you nor him had any experience, but let's say Sunghoon has been trained for a while now, probably most of his alone time, to know and do what could drive you to your begging stage.

"S-sunghoon, I know it's not wrong, but... You're too huge for me."

"I don't give a damn, m/n, endure it. I'm yours, husband, isn't it? You can't say otherwise!" Distracted by his words, you were surprised at the contact of his cock buried inside you, thrusting in unexpectedly. The enormous hard cock of his indeed spread your ass into two, resulting in your cries out with pleasure.

Seeing you still adjusting to his size, Sunghoon trailed down his lip, brushing softly against yours. The kiss is mixed with love and jealousy of his; he can't stop it now to breed you and mark you as his own. He was eager to tell the world you were his only. Sinking into Sunghoon's touch, you slowly and finally adjust to his huge cock. Once he knew you were ready, his demonic power took over him as he began to push his hip to the deepest part he could ever go in one thrust. The sudden sensation drizzled you as you whimpered out loud shamelessly. Meanwhile, Sunghoon also had the same feeling; his body shuddered into pieces when he moved his own hip up and down.

All those sex toys are nothing compared to your tight entrance, which is clenching so hard and tight of his cock at the moment. He is groaning so good; it was heavenly pleasurable. It's going on for another couple of poundings until Sunghoon gets a sign he'll explode anytime soon. Clearly, you are unprepared but have to be without it. As both of his large arms encircle your waist, the wet kisses continue harder than his tongue licking over all your lips and intertwined in your mouth. Chasing that climax, which is what you're aiming for too,

"M/n, I'm fucking coming; I'm coming; I'm —" desperately, he breaks the kisses, and in one last grind, he comes undone inside of you. The massive load filled you like a cum dump, squirting out all of his orgasms and shivering with all the nerves. Enough with him cumming out; you're soon finding your dick twitches, following his orgasm as it squirted, and shooting out the hot white liquids too.

With your eyes flying up facing the ceiling, you endure the pleasure, sucking in a sharp breath. You were almost passed out with just one round, your chest heaving nonstop while Sunghoon was already recovering a while ago. M/N just feels too good to fuck, and he won't stop till he is satisfied.

"M/n! Don't test me from now on; I realized that you're nobody but someone who still puts up with me even if I'm a bad husband. I'm going to love you like no one else can, and if you ever smile at somebody else than me, I promise I'll bring the heat back." 

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ CRD TO ALL THE OWNERS.

[lorsdelapluie]

The doctor's diary.

Pairing: sylus x female reader

Genre: Dark shit going on. Including smut. Please read the content warning.

Word count: 4000+ words.

Content warning: mdni, explicit sexual content (but its chill for now), spoiler warning, mention of human experimentation, cult activities, my own twisted thoughts and theories are literally making this way darker than LADS already is. An oc of mine will appear more often in the next chapters, hate him guys, he is not a good guy. English is not my first language sorry for any mistakes.

Note: This chapter ended up longer than I expected somehow. And it is the first one of a three chapter fanfiction. I tend to write nasty stuff, sex wise but also everything else wise so please be prepared for anything literally. The character Castiel that you will meet in this chapter is my own oc that I made up specially for the LADS universe. I hope you will enjoy to hate him.

Chapter 1:

“You want me to go in the N109 zone ? I thought we weren’t allowed to go th-” 

“We are aware you have been going back and forth between Linkon city and the N109 Zone.” 

You pinched your lips at the words coming from Jenna’s mouth, your hand resting on your hunter’s watch. The times you forgot to turn off your watch comes back to light one by one in your mind. Brushing it off everytime you thought that the HQ wouldn't have the time to check on your status. Her arms were still crossed over her chest as she looked at you straight in the face with her dark gray eyes. You felt like a kid underneath this disappointed glare. You opened your lips to say something, to defend yourself but she raised her hand to stop you from doing so. 

“However, you have mainly been doing this outside your working hours. So it is your private life, and you may keep it a secret if you wish. But since you have been going there multiple times, we figured you might be aware of what is going on there better than we do.” She sighed. You guessed that she wasn't the one behind this idea. Maybe some higher ups that you never had the opportunity to meet.

“So this is why we thought you might be the best suited agent for this mission.”

“Oh uhm… Thank you for entrusting me.” 

“Despite this little disagreement, I am aware that you are one of our best agents. However if you think you might need help, you can still ask Xavier to accompany you. Although he has been quite busy lately.”

“No no no ! Do not bother Xavier for this. I am more than capable of handling missions on my own. As for the mission… Can I ask you what is it that I am meant to do ?” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t let you go into the Lions’ den without information.” She said as she slid her hand on her desk, taking a handful of documents stored inside a pocket and handing them to you. “We need you to participate in an auction for charity.”

“For charity…” you mumbled. You never thought you would see the day of a charity auction being held in the a zone so… uncharitable. You start looking through the papers in your hand, brows furrowed in confusion.

“We are as surprised as you look. As nice as the thoughts around this event are, we are particularly interested in one of the prizes that we wish you would purchase for us.”

Your eyes land on the auction picture of a diary, its cover is made of leather and the pages look old, teared up for some of them. “A diary ?”

“This diary seemingly belonged to one of the most wanted people of our organization. A doctor who previously worked here, in Linkon city, and got too deep in his interest for protocores and their links with people’s evol.” 

“He experimented on humans…” you mumbled as you read the notes next to the picture that the intel team had written for you. "On children..."

“He indeed did. And we would like to prevent this diary from falling into the wrong hands. This is where your part comes in. Buying this diary away from that zone.”

You nodded as you guessed the objective of your mission long before she started explaining the reason why they would go fetch that book in the first place. Plus, that diary might bring you answers you are seeking about yourself. And as you remember your partner's jewel like gaze, about Sylus too. You then raised yours towards Jenna, closing the file between your hands and straightening your back. 

“If you will allow me. I’m going to do the best I can to fulfill this mission.” 

“I know you will. The auction is in three days. I hope it gives you enough time to gather any belongings and travel to a safe place in the N109 zone… If such a place exists.” 

“Do not worry about me. I will be safe.”

You smile as Jenna raises her hand slowly with a peaceful expression as she dismisses you from her office. You exit the room, slowly closing the door behind you before walking to your desk, gathering your laptop and phone on the furniture. You then put the file inside your bag as you were already leaving the building. You would take the time to analyze everything once you were safely in the N109 Zone.

Phone in hand you immediately texted Xavier to let him know that you were leaving for a mission in the outskirts of your beloved city. As your thumbs were patting the screen of your phone, it suddenly started to vibrate. Soon enough the icon of Sylus appeared on your phone, a silly picture of him you took when he dozed off while watching a musical a few weeks prior. You frowned at the VERY convenient timing that he always had and picked up, raising your phone to your ear. 

“Yes ?”

“The twins are going to pick you up at 5 this afternoon. Will you have enough time to be prepared before then?” 

“Don’t tell me you hacked Jenna’s computer again. How many times do I have to tell you to not do that?” You frowned, faking or maybe wanting to be angry about that breach of your private life once again.

“There is no need to get angry at me. Be angry at the twins all you want though. They are the ones who insisted on checking up on you while I was away.” 

“How do they even know how to hack-” you stopped in your tracks as you heard your voice the sound of a bike motor in the background of the call. “Are you calling me while driving ?”

“Now this is a reason you can get mad at me for.” he chuckles as you let out a frustrated sound. “Do not worry, sweetie, I have my helmet on. Just checking on you through earbuds.” 

“Unsafe still. Your attention should be fully on the road.” you finally started walking towards the road that leads to your apartment, going through the usual route that takes you near along a river. “I thought you said you would be the one picking me up after Luke nearly got us in a car crash last time.” 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. But I do have some work meetings that need to be attended to." After a moment of quiet, he continued. “I trust Kieran will be the one driving you three back at home. I will be back before dinner.” 

“Fine. Be careful on your way to your meet up… I will see you later.” you could hear a chuckle, and the picture of Sylus’ grin appeared in your mind. Before he could answer, you hung up. 

You sighed as you crossed the street, pushing the door of your building entrance after entering the password on the door’s pad. Slowly you slid the phone inside your bag, totally forgetting about warning your colleague, and your friends, of the mission that will probably won’t let you have time for chit chat. Once you are inside your place, you quickly pull out a bag from the closet in the entrance, walking towards your bedroom to pack your essentials for the next few days. 

An hour flew by without you realizing it before your phone rang. Luke. As you picked up you hear his cheerful voice coming from outside your building, you walked towards your opened window staring down. 

“Miss ! Your carriage is waiting for you !” the masked man yells waving at you from below, catching glances from other people passing by. 

“Get inside the car ! Can’t you see people are staring at you Luke ?” you frowned shooing him away with your hand. 

“Heeeh. I’m hurt ! Are you embarrassed by me perhaps ?” You wondered if Sylus teasing was coming from spending too much time with them or the other way round. 

You frowned not wanting to let your mind wander at that thought, hanging up and closing the window before picking your bag on your bed and leaving your apartment. Once downstairs you were greeted with no one but the black car with tinted windows that was just in front of the house, without giving it much thoughts you walked to the back of the car and climbed inside. 

After exchanging proper greetings with the twins, and a short trip from Linkon city to the twins’ boss base. 

It was night time now and you were settled down in one of Sylus couch in his apartments. You were going through the file once more, eyeing the clock in front of you from time to time. The meal was soon to be put down in the living room and you were definitely imagining eating alone at this rate. You sighed as you let your head roll on one of the sides of the couch, closing your eyes as you let yourself drift to the sound of the gramophone playing the music you put on earlier. 

“Are you asleep ?” a whisper came above the sound of the music as a finger brushed against your cheek. 

Your eyes opened and you looked up to the figure towering over you. Sylus gazed at you as he was leaning with one hand on the couch watching you slowly wake up from your nap. You slowly straight up, your files sliding from your chest and before you could react, Sylus caught it and put it down on the table next to you.

“Mmm no.” 

“Sure you weren’t.” he smiled as he sat on the carpet next to the couch. “Don’t move.” 

“But the dinner…” you mumbled still drowsy. 

“Dinner is cold by now. I was late and you fell asleep. We are in no hurry anymore.” he says as he takes off his jacket, putting it down on the chair behind him, soon followed by his gloves. You sighed knowing that the man next you wouldn't budge. 

“How did your meeting go ?” you asked as you traced every of his movements with your gaze. 

“Productive. But a waste of time at the same time. We wasted 2 hours waiting for someone who never came. I honestly thought I was going to come back really early.” 

“Would have been better…” you muttered.

Sylus' head turned to look at you with that same grin of his when he catches you being off guard. “Missing me I see.” 

“Whatever.” 

“I missed you too, sweetie.” he muttered as his face was now a few inches away from your face. And as always Sylus was the one to close that distance, his teeth started nibbling gently on your lower lip as he kissed you. His right hand comes to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "I missed you a lot."

There was always this conflict inside of you when you felt the lips of Sylus on yours. A shyness that you wished you didn’t have, pushing you to turn your face away. However the drumming of your heart everytime his lips were on yours made you feel safe. Safe and cared for. The man suddenly started pushing his tongue against your lips, deepening the kiss drawing a sound from you in a sigh. 

“Knowing that you were waiting for me here. Probably lying down on that bed or on that couch…” he muttered as he kissed your lips once again then your cheek and the back of your ear. “I wished I could have just left to join you here quicker.”

“You are… so dirty Sylus.” you whispered as you felt his hand slide on your shirt to start unbuttoning it. When Sylus admitted his excitement for you it always made you shiver. Not that it was rare for him to be so blunt. But being wanted and knowing that he was thinking of you that way, in places where he shouldn’t. God, he was the devil in person and he loved playing with his favorite person. 

“If you want to blame me for the tension rising in this room. Feel free to do so…” he said, lips leaving a trailing of kisses from your neck towards your chest. “I would enjoy that.” 

Soon his lips were not the only thing on your skin, his tongue traveled against you with wet kisses. Teeth sometimes nibble on you, trying to mark you as his. However he knew better than to do that or he would have been met with a warning look. Instead his hand slides away the remaining of your top clothes, revealing your skin to his red eyes ravishing each corner of your body, everytime. 

“Your skin is covered in goosebumps. Are you getting worked up sweetie ?” he says smiling, his lips resting against your chest. A thumb sliding against one of your nipples. “I bet that if I slide my hand in your pants, I might find it dripping with excitement.” 

“You are too sure of yourself.” you said trying to keep your voice steady as his lips brushed against your other nipple. 

A low chuckle vibrates through his body at your answer. “Always so feisty, kitten.” he murmured, pinching with two of his fingers the nipple he had in his hand. 

“Then… Shall we take a look ?” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, you closed your legs, preventing his hand from sliding under your pants and between your thighs. His hand stopped mid-way, resting against your lower body. He slowly quirked up his face, arching a brow with a smile. 

“Getting shy ?” he asks, fingers fondling with the zipper of your pants. He soon pulled it down. “You know I don’t particularly enjoy you playing shy. I’d rather have my feisty kitten biting and fighting me than hiding away.” 

Asshole you thought. 

“Should I take out the ropes like last time ? Pull your legs apart ? I thought you learnt how to behave.” he said with a smile. “Or did you enjoy this so much that you want to try again ?” 

Losing control from time to time was nice. But not tonight, you needed the contrary. You need to feel in control of your body. The next few days were gonna be stressful. One of your hands dared to come rest on his cheek as your legs opened against his hand. 

“Good girl..” he said, his lips coming to nuzzle against your hand. And as usual when a kiss comes first teeth soon follow. His fingers able to slide under your pants and underwear come to slide in between your folds feeling the wetness of yourself under his burning gaze. 

“Just as I thought.” he smiles as one of his fingers pushes inside you and you answer with a moan. His lips nibbling on the flesh of your palm, eyelashes brushing against your fingers as he starts going back and forth with his fingers inside of you. 

Your head resting against the pillow of the couch, eyes closing as another moan came from between your lips as he pushed another finger inside of you. The fingers of your hand slowly extended to grasp onto strands of the man’s hair, while the other came gripping on the back of the couch. 

“That’s it. Let yourself go, kitten.” A growl soon followed when you tug at his hair when his thumb rested against your clit making small circles as he never stopped pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

You arched your back, the stimulation of his fingers rubbing against that one G spot inside of you and his thumb massaging your clit made you see stars. You tug on his hair once again in another sound, coming under his watchful gaze. 

“Sylus…” 

“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m always here.” he answered, coming to put a kiss on your forehead. 

Once he pulls his fingers out of you, he slides a hand under you to carry you against him. You look up at him, arms sliding around his neck to secure yourself. 

“And you ?” 

“Oh ? Are you asking for more, sweetie ?”” he chuckles as you frown at him. His lips slowly come against your own to kiss you once more. “This is what I wanted. Nothing more for tonight. But I can not promise you anything just like this for tomorrow.” A devilish smile spreads on his lips. 

“Did you have a shower already ?” 

“I did… Earlier.” you answered as you rested your head against his shoulder. “What about food ?” 

“You are hungry aren’t you.” He said as he settled you down on the bed. “Tell you what. I will come bring you some food and you can enjoy some while I take a shower. Sounds good ?” 

“Sounds good. I will try to not eat everything.” You smile. 

And just like that three days passed. Now you were standing in front of the door, arms crossed on your chest and Sylus blocking your way with his hands on his hips. 

“I will not change my mind Sylus. I need to attend this auction alone.”

“What if I’d like to be charitable tonight?”

You scoff. “Please. You just want to keep your eyes on me.”

“I want to make sure you are safe and sound.” 

“And I told you I can defend myself. If the HQ knows that I am attending an official mission with the boss of Onychinus, I could get in trouble. Because they will keep an eye on me ! Just like you do.” 

Sylus sighs. You could be so stubborn. He slowly raised his hand to pinch his nose’s bridge. “Take Mephisto with you at least. He could help you in any case of an emergency.” 

“That noisy little…” you were met by a glare that was telling you to not push your luck so you resigned. “Okay.”

“Good.” As soon as you agreed to his terms, he snapped his fingers and Mephisto almost appeared on your shoulder. Resting his claws against the fabric of your dress. “I will drive you there. And I will be there again to pick you up soon after Mephisto lets me know the auction has ended. Understood ?” 

“Yes mom.”

He chuckles before pushing the door open, letting you leave the safe base first to get to the car parked in front of the entrance. He soon followed and got inside the car to start driving across the dark streets of the N109 Zone. Mephisto was awfully quiet, head turning around at each corner, as if the bird was already on a mission analyzing what was around him. You stared mindlessly at the street lamps barely shining some cold light on the pavement beneath them as you fondle with your bag between your fingers. 

You were stressed. Stressed to not be able to bring back that diary. What if you came back in Linkon city with nothing to offer but the news that another potential monster had this fucking diary between their hands. How many children would have to suffer from experiments and be kept in the dark before they all stopped ? Without realizing it, you started clenching on your accessory. And the hand of Sylus left the gearbox to come rest on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Do not be anxious. People coming to those kinds of fake charity auctions hunt down people like you. Nice face, seemingly weak and rich.” he said. “Mephisto is a sign that you are under my watch but he can’t dissuade them from doing anything if they are crazy enough to try.” 

“So I need to appear confident…” 

“Exactly. I know you can do it. After all, you showed me your acting skills more than once.” he pressed his thumb against your thigh as he kept looking at the road in front of you. “I’m not here physically but Mephisto is my eyes. And I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I know.” you sighed before taking another deep breath. It will be okay, you thought, Sylus is right. You had to have faith in yourself and in him. It will go by so quickly, you won’t even realize it. 

The car slows down and you are now parked in front of an immense building, maybe even taller than some of Sylus’s ones. You look up from your seat as Mephisto mimics you. “Where are we ?”

“The place of the auction. The HQ of the Eurydike cult. Weird bunch of fuckers.” 

You hummed before pushing the door open, before closing it you looked at your partner flashing him a smile. “I will be back.” He softly smiles back waving, asking you to be careful once more. And you closed the door, walking towards the entrance of the building, taking out the invitation out of your bag to show the bodyguards that you were allowed to enter the place. 

As soon as you stepped foot inside, you were faced with a display of wealthiness and laughter coming from every corner of the giant hall. You were taken aback, thinking for a second that the only man you thought was this wealthy in the N109 Zone was Sylus. The hall was made of black marble with golden cracks, contrasted by high white walls that reflected the light of the candlesticks. Hanging banners here and there with an unknown insignia, and false plants hanging in green. You looked around, looking for a sign indicating the location of the meeting. But unfortunately the place was badly indicated, this auction was probably a place of regulars. However you spotted some people whispering about getting their place already to get closer to the stage, and you figured it would be the best idea to follow them around. Which you did. Everyone here was accompanied, and you were alone. Well accompanied but by a bird that started to get agitated. The sound of your heels against the marble under your steps was ringing in your mind. You stopped near a waiter, grabbing a glass of champagne. You needed to relax, you needed to look like you belonged here. Alcohol might help you settle down. 

So you went to sit at the first row, crossing your legs as Mephisto left your shoulder to take place on the chandelier hanging above your head. You could see some of the objects being displayed on the stage in front of you. Vases, stuffed animals, jewelry and… Wait. Was that one of Raphayel’s painting ? You frowned while taking your phone out of your purse to take a picture. Before you could press the button, you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

You flinched, turning around. “Miss. Sorry to bother you but you are not allowed to take pictures in this room.” A man with green eyes gazed upon you. He was tall, his hair and lashes almost hiding the gaze that you could feel burning on your face. His face did not seem upset, nor angry. Good… The last thing you needed was to attract angry people. 

You smiled. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that painting would interest my husband before I start bidding on it.”  

“Oh ?” He looked up at the stage staring at the painting of the seashore painted with different shades of blue and orange, with the silhouette of a faceless woman dipping her feet in the water. “Hm. It is indeed a wonderful painting. From a very famous painter from Linkon City. Although it is one of his earliest works.” 

“Are you familiar with this painter ?” you asked, interested in the knowledge of the person in front of you. To faint uninterest you slowly raise your glass to your lips looking away from the man.

“Familiar would not be right. We are acquaintances.” He then looks down at you smiling as he circles around the chair to finally sit next to you. “Although we haven’t seen each other for many years.” 

“I see.” you nodded looking at that man dressed in white, your eyes landing on the cross shaped brooch on his tie. You swore you have seen this insignia somewhere. “And you are ?”

“Shh little miss. It’s starting soon. We will have all the leisure to chit chat after that auction is done.” 

The auction began, and you drank the rest of your drink before waving to a waiter to come and get rid of you. Under your seat as under that of all the other participants was a small booklet with the passage numbers of each work or object. The one you were looking for was in last place. A sigh escaped from your lips as the first sums of money were thrown out of control. 

Beside you, still stood this same man, his left leg crossed above the right and his hands clasped on his knees, looking at the scene with a satisfied smile. With the light down, you took the time to linger on her face. He had it very hard, like a man who had to face situations that those of Linkon city did not have to face. But this sweet smile on his lips came in contrast with the portrait that could be made of him. You wondered if Sylus knew the man. You slowly raised your head to look towards Mephisto who was looking straight at you under his watchful red eyes. Just like his master. 

An hour and half passed, and you were starting to get numb to all the money that was being spent. The man next to you also did spend some money. He bought the painting you were eyeing earlier. And then came the mention of the diary. 

As soon as you could, you raised your hand to bid. With a glimpse of mischievousness, the man next to you raised his hand. Followed by some other people in the room. After nearly a minute of bidding, you raised your hand again. 

“Please stop playing sir. My husband is rather interested in this diary.” you muttered to the man next to you. “Stick to your paintings.” 

A suppressed laugh came as an answer as your bid was registered as a final answer. The hand of the man next to you extended towards you as the lights turned on. “It’s a pleasure to be doing business with you, little miss.” 

You frowned looking at the man’s gaze. “Business ?” 

“I am the owner of this building and the organizer of this auction. My name is Castiel, pleasure meeting you.” 

You gasped as you came to shake his hand. Dear god, why did you have to talk like that to the man who setted up a charity auction. This is why his brooch reminded you of something, it was literally plastered in the hall. 

“I am very sorry for my-”

“No offense is taken. Should we talk privately ? I will give you this diary your husband so wishes to have.” he lets go of your hand, getting up before offering his arm. 

“Yes.” you nod as you get up too, sliding your hand on the man’s arm. You were so giddy with the idea of success that you nearly didn’t realize Mephisto was cawing. 

However if you didn’t notice, it was not the case of Castiel that turned his head up towards the bird with a frown. He then asked the security to take care of it, and before you could step in and prevent this from happening, you were dragged into the man’s office. 

Once in his office, he let go of your hand. He headed towards the back of his desk, unlocking what sounded like a chest. In the meantime, you take the time to look around. The place was dark, but golden and green touches enhanced the place. You were basking in a warm light which contrasted with the cold atmosphere that was outside the sacred building. You did not move from the entrance, waiting patiently for you to be given what you had bought. 

“This book was retrieved from a bad man’s hands.” His voice broke the silence that was installed between you two. “If your husband really is interested in this script, you should be careful of him.” He said as he got closer to you handing the overused diary. 

“I will keep that in mind.” you nodded before taking the diary out of this man’s large hands. 

He smiled, flashing his perfect teeth to you. This close, you could see the eyebags between his vibrant eyes. A shiver ran up your back. “I hope our paths will cross again, little miss. If charity is what you are looking for, we could always use new members.” 

Charity… “Sure. I would love to stop by once again. The fate of the N109 zone is very dear to me afterall.” You smiled. 

He hummed. “Smart girl.” his fingers brushed your chin before you stepped back. “We should get going, your husband will surely show up in about a few seconds .”

Before you could answer, Castiel’s hand was on your free wrist and was dragging you out of his office, back into the auction room and in the middle of it stood Sylus. A visibly displeased Sylus. Almost angry. He shouted your name as soon as you came into his vision. The man with dark brown hair let go of your hand softly, placing his hand on your naked back. 

“You should go, little miss. I’d hate for your husband to scare away my guests.” 

You mindlessly nodded as you felt a sensation creeping up your back, and you almost trotted back to Sylus, pushing through the bodyguards preventing him from getting closer to their leader. Once in arms reach, the white haired man pulled you under his arm, hiding you beneath his coat. 

And yet as you were leaving the scene, you could feel Castiel’s gaze burning holes in your back.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

The Hobie fandom has a lot of smut, and with a character so accepting on so many fronts, it means so much to me to see trans!readers being taken into consideration.

As a trans guy myself, I love seeking out ftm!smut. But often times, I often can't read them. Many times I'm left feeling unseen, reduced, or even feminized.

And I wanna talk about that a bit, if it's okay.

My take and feelings on FTM!smut - As a Trans Guy

Ngl as a trans guy myself I do feel a bit alienated by a lot of FTM!reader.

I'm gonna be honest - I feel like most ftm smut is written exactly as it would be a cis woman, just with the pronouns changed. Which is understandable, but not really how it works.

Cis women and trans men don't have sex the exact same, just because they're AFAB.

And I feel most smut writers haven't gone out of their way to research the sexual experiences of trans men and how we navigate the world.

Hobie smut is pretty vulgar, and I won't complaining! As a character, he has a high volume of smut, and probably the most diverse range, with Black!reader, ftm!readers, and male!readers being more common than most fandoms.

Black!Reader focuses on the unique experience of black people when in a relationship together. This unique experience is at the basis of black!reader.

But when we approach Ftm!reader - very often, our unique experience isn't reflected.

It's just assumed that because we are AFAB - there's no need to look deeper at the closer unique sexual experience trans men have - or to read up about it.

Most ftm!reader fic does not attempt to use affirming sexual language for trans men at all.

T-dicks - ie, natural clitoris enlargement you get after taking T - is a thing a lot of transitioning Trans men have.

But they're never called T-dicks in fanfiction. Only clits. It's very rare that a ftm!reader is described as having a dick - because so often the only dicks cis people recognize are natal dicks, and surgery-constructed ones.

Many cis writers may never even considered referring to a trans man's clitoris as a dick - pre or post T. They may see it as confusing to the reader, when it's not.

T-Dicks are dicks. Bottom growth didn't give you a full 3-4 inches, but you absolutely have growth and there are trans men that can penetrate with T-dicks - without surgery - if with the right partner.

The words pussy and cunt are used liberally in nearly all ftm!smut, and while many trans men are okay with these terms, I think a lot of cis writers ignore or do not know that often, terms like those can cause heavy dysphoria in a lot of ftm readers.

I don't think cis writers ever question if they might be making readers dysphoric - or showing them in a non-affirming way.

I feel like some writers believe that changing pronouns and calling the reader 'handsome' is really all it takes. Just write usual fem smut, change the pronouns - and done!

In reality, a large part of the ftm community feels uncomfortable with the word 'pussy' - and would much rather stuff like 'front hole'.

A poll on 'What do you call your downstairs?'

And I'm not saying that you can't call a trans man's genitals a pussy. And I'm not saying that a trans man calling his genitals a pussy is wrong.

I just feel like cis writers do not consider the dysphoria of their trans readers, when writing trans smut.

I feel like most cis writers don't actually seek out accounts of trans men and their sexuality.

I don't think they ever consider that these terms, talking about wetness and penetration (which many men on T can have problems with because of vaginal atrophy and dryness), breast, clits, cunts, pussy -

I don't think cis writers ever question 'Is this accessible for ftm readers that might have dysphoria? How can I make this accessible or easier for trans men who have bottom dysphoria?'

Or

'How can I make this more affirming of them as men?'

It's the assumption that, because we're all AFAB, because we have vaginas like cis women - then naturally we must all fuck the same regardless of gender, the only thing changing being the pronouns.

That's not true.

And also - Trans Men are never really written like gay men.

Trans men having sex with men is gay sex.

And even though most writers write trans men with male OCs - they hardly ever write their sex as if they are gay men.

99.9% of the time, it isn't written that way. Its always written as if it's 'straight sex'.

The experience of how gay men have sex is never really taken account into these fics, which makes me feel like a lot of writers don't see it as gay sex at all.

At most, the ftm reader may be described as a bottom - but never as an otter or twink or bear or cub or leather or anything.

They see it as AFAB sex.

Cause If I'm getting strictly candid - I feel like if a writer wrote mtf!smut and kept focusing on the girls 'hard throbbing cock and balls' - we'd all be like 'oh wow that's very intense centering on genitals that may alienate some trans women-'

But in ftm!smut focusing on 'wet tight juicy pussy and thriving clit' is standard. It's never really questioned.

And this is not to say 'oh trans women have it better they get better smut-' No. They really don't. I'm just bringing this up to highlight the fact that we should be making sure that trans!smut is accessible and affirming to the trans people they're about.

Seeing a fic in which a gay trans man prefers to use his asshole, like most gay men fuck, is VERY VERY rare.

I feel like most cis writers never consider the fact that gay trans men may want to perform sex in an affirming, clearly coded, masculine gay way.

It's always assumed we use our front hole, are okay with it being called a pussy, have no problems getting wet, or that we don't have dicks (T-dick is a dick).

And because of that - the lack of affirming language and the lack of affirming transmasc experiences makes it very hard for me as a FTM person to read smut about ftm!readers.

I feel like most of them don't actually take our comfort - or our experiences in mind.

I feel like most don't attempt to actually read accounts of trans guys having gay sex, and what that's often like.

If you're a writer who feels guilty of any of this - you're not a bad person or a bad writer. And I genuinely thank you for including us in your work - from the bottom of my heart.

But I want to highlight this -

Trans men having sex is not a 1:1 of cis women having sex. The same way trans women having sex is not a 1:1 of cis men having sex.

Or experiences are unique - and our dysphoria does affect our sex lives, and how we navigate them.

Please, do not let this put you off writing trans men. But please keep in mind that our experience is unique.

So often I read ftm!reader and feel reduced down to my pussy. Without breasts in the equation, so much ftm!smut focuses solely on the pussy.

If you write ftm!reader please please do not let this put you off, but here's some tips I can give as a trans guy

Please do slight research of ftm anatomy, read an article about gay trans men, or go on r/ftm (subreddit) and read some posts about trans men, read some nsfw posts where trans men tell hookup tales.

Advocate has an great article called '16 things I learned from having sex with Trans Men' - which details and dispels 16 myths about trans men in bed. It's written from the POV of gay men who have been with trans men in affirming ways.

This post is in no way meant to be an attack or subliminal at any one writer. If it was one writer, I wouldn't care.

But this is something I've experienced and seen across fandoms and across writers in this fandom too. I feel the urge to write this because searching for affirming ftm!fics - I often come away feeling even more dysphoric.

Not because of the word pussy or cunt or anything -

But because of the erasure of my experience, the idea that my gender doesn't influence my experience of sex - only my AFAB genitals do.

If you write ftm!smut, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, truly.

But I feel like I had to say this.

If you read this far, thank you! This is one of my more personal venting posts but I'm also trying to raise a point and start a discussion. And you reading through this and giving me your time and understanding is already helpful enough, so thanks!

Here's Hobie.

Bye.

[shallyouobeyme]

For the “spicy” prompt im imagining Platonic Yandere Batfam discovering your internet history, and having a confrontation about how you’re far too young for such things (reader is a full adult, not that the Batfam sees it that way).

I sadly already have something written out for today, but I really love this idea so I decided that I'd just go into the concept a bit as well - I mean I make the rules to this so I might as well use that power.

Okay, so I don't really write smut as of now because I don't read it and I do have not a lot of real-life experience so I figure it might just be a lot of cringy blabbering. But let's go with the 'spicey' meaning that horny adolescents will probably think of when reading the word in the context of fanfiction.

Now you're probably somewhere in the span of 16-20 in this scenario, old enough to live independently on your own, but young enough that the batfam can somehow justify it in their mind to treat you like a precious, fragile, little toddler. Sure, some of them logically know that you're basically a grown-up, but with how much effed-up shit they see every day they don't really wanna admit that to themselves and rather chose to act all 'I do not see'. And while that's all fine and dandy for them to do, it doesn't change the logical facts. Fact number one: You grew out of binkies and blankies like a decade ago, for god's sake Dick stop trying to make me take ten naps a day with them. Fact number two: Like I said, you're kind of (definitely) an adult and assuming that you have not always been the coddled little Wayne-baby that the Batfam wants to see you as you've probably been exposed to adult things before and aren't sensitive with seeing them. Like, guys, I was reading the news daily before you crazy people kidnapped me - stop talking about international crises as if the countries are people who have minor disagreements, okay? Fact number three: there comes a time in an adult's life when they might be craving a somewhat more intimate partner in their life - and no, Damian, I don't mean the bestest friend in the whole world forever, I mean a guy or a gal or a nonbinary pal who can rock your shit, if you get my drift (never dare say that to Damian out loud tho, you will be having your mouth washed out with soap). So while it might be a giant oversight on your part to not realize that all your precious internet time is completely monitored, you still probably haven't expected to be sat down by Bruce, Dick, Jason and Alfred and get a lecture on how you're way too little to look up these kinds of things (you looked up TikTok videos and happened to watch a few with TikTokers dancing in slightly less covered clothing) and how your mind is too undeveloped to grasp these big things you searched for (you looked up a statistic on the rate of kidnapping victims to get killed) and how you should keep playing your safe games instead of these violent ones (you looked at a game trailer for Cyberpunk 2077).

All your arguing falls on deaf ears. They just don't wanna hear that you're not their little, innocent baby. The only good thing is that they don't think you have enough logical thinking skills yet to properly grasp the situation so you'll be punished very lightly (a month without internet privileges). Once you're allowed to go online again though, you'll have to make do with the special kiddy-pad they got you with all the safety features and parental controls installed. So yeah, might wanna get used to being without the internet from now on...

[manicrouge]

An Ode to Serelia

[𝟷𝟾+, 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸] || Part Two

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

[𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍]: 01/01/24

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

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

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 23,720

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

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

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

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

(I'm very sensitive).

HAVE FUN!!

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

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

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

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Even if we hurt them?'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, you hear voices.

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

'I found one papa!'

Shifting, you turn your head towards the surface.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Serelia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her hand disappears.

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

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

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

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

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

In the light of Luna, you recall her face.

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

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

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

Not even their dastardly golden coins.

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

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

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

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

The current grows displeased.

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Sirens?'

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

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

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

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

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

The footsteps stop.

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

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

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

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

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

'Bloody lunatics.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Fucks sake, Johnny, what—'

'Siren,' he says quietly.

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

Sirens? Is he fucking stupid?

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

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

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

'Still on the beach.'

'The beach?'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Monsters you are! Let me go!'

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

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

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

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

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

Something is watching them, yet no one sees it.

'No!'

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

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

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

Finally, she's unveiled to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'We'll take it from here. '

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You awake with a brittle moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes grow heavy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There's silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is that real?

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

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

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

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

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

Your mind is racing trying to piece together a narrative.

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

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

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

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

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

He's harsher than last nights current.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gaz. What an odd name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Won't you, Ghost?

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

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

You look at him briefly, swallowing hard.

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

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

'Where's the mermaid?' you ask.

You watch his eyes scan the area surrounding you.

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

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

You want to scream.

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

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

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

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

'Where were you goin'?' he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Get some sleep,' he says.

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

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

Your eyes stay there as you drift off to sleep.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kyle looks at him with wide eyes.

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

The man in front of him grins brightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hand rests upon your shoulder and you grunt.

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

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

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

He feels you tense in his hands.

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

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

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

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

Your face falters.

You're going to be here a while.

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

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

Surely it's not that difficult.

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

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

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

'Can you help me?' you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be nice to her, hey?

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

'I'll carry you.'

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

'Great... thanks.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Careful,' he utters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Thank you, Ghost,' you say

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

It's difficult to adjust to first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Why?' he eventually asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hold your breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'What? What did I say?'

'Nothing, Sim-'

You freeze.

The pair of you stare at each other.

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

'Johnny told you didn't he?'

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

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

'Simon?'

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

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A crooked smile greets your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Death would be easier than this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He exhales deeply.

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

You blame the dress you're wearing too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your blood runs cold.

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

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

I'd like that too.

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

You laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The feeling of nausea hits you again.

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

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

'Can I?'

He looks at you, though says nothing.

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

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

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

'Am I gonna regret this?' you asks.

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

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

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

Not even once.

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perilous speculation at it's finest! Your favourite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I've got work, love.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'What's it about?'

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

He nods his head.

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

Your face is bright red.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The keys fall from out of his hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's unlike anything you've ever experienced.

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

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

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

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

Then, you begin to feel him pull away.

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

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

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

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

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

You feel another finger against you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hear the shift of fabric.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm not going to last.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He lets out a moan as he fills you up.

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

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

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

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

'Good girl,' he utters against your skin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I haven't hurt you have—'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

Has he left for work already?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You quirk an eyebrow.

'I thought you said it was plain.'

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

'You're an idiot,' you say.

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

'You're the reason—'

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart settles with the thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'You my servant now?' you ask.

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

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

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

'Fuck off,' barks the man.

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

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

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

'She's dead!'

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scales.

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

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

Serelia.

The siren.

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

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

Your lover doesn't say anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hands stay firmly on your shoulders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He exhales, looking towards you with bleary eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I know.'

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

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

Both of you do.

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

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

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

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

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

You mouth grows dry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's difficult to say goodbye.

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

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

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

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

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

He looks at you.

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

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

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

'Forever and always.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You return to his home covered in blood.

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

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

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

And now he is scared as he looks at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I love you,' you croak.

'I love you too, sweetheart.'

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

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

You cannot stay here.

For the good of yourself and the good of him.

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

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

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

Foolish mortal men.

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

Sinking into the watery depths of a sirens den.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The land is cruel, harsher than the sea.

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

You have to go, and you hope he understands.

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

But it's never going to be home again.

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

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

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

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

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

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

[reginaaxxwrites]

It Took Time (Fred Weasley)

This was been in my draft for months already. I decided to finally post it. This story contains 6.2k words. Enjoy!

*****

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader (With a little bit George x Fem!Reader)

Warning: IT CONTAINS SMUT (Guys, I know this is the first time I released smut fanfiction. I just hope this one is good enough. I did not intend this story to have smut, but there you go. Enjoy your meal.)

*****

How do I start this?

I am madly in love with George Weasley. Yes, the famous George Weasley who always gets into trouble along with his brother, Fred Weasley. It was hard liking someone inside your circle of friends.

I tried not to be obvious about my feelings for him. I try to act casual because it's my way of controlling myself to burst my emotions when I'm with him. But sometimes I just can't help myself from showing him.

George would always sit beside me and talk about everything. Like his favorite spell or his memorable pranks. With every word he says, I can't help but get lost in it. I stare at him with dreamy eyes. And even if I get lost in his words, I still understand everything he said and it always piques my interest. I'll never get tired of his stories.

Unlike his brother, George seems to be more reserved. I don't know how to explain it but without Fred, he wouldn't be as chaotic as he is today. I guess they just complete each other.

"I think he fancies you," Angelina whispered beside me. I nudged her and rolled my eyes.

"I think not. Now, shut up and let me do homework." I continued to write on my parchment paper.

"Boringgg." She yawned.

I would be lying if I say I didn't think that he fancies me. I mean, it's possible. Or maybe I just like to assume things and feed my delusions. Because there are times he would flirt, but I don't know if that was intentional or if it's not.

"Damn you, Angelina." I glared at her. She looks confused as to why I cursed at her.

"I am mad. I really fancy him. And I can't do something about it." I buried myself on the table.

"Then confess to him. You'll never know until you initiate the move to tell him." She's right but what if I have been wrong all this time? That he simply just sees me as his friend.

George Weasley, why are you so hard to read?

"So... Any ideas how will you confess to him?" Angelina leaned on the table with a teasing smirk placed upon her lips.

"Shut it." I tried to ignore her but she was too clever to know it'll just keep bothering me and in the end, I would talk about it.

"Oh, I don't know, Angelina!" I slammed my quill and looked at her. I noticed that the Common Room went silent, so I looked around. They were all looking at me.

Okay, maybe I slam my quill too loud and too hard. I gave them my apology look and went on about what they were doing a while ago.

"Whoa, calm down, girl. You know I think it's unnecessary to confess--"

"But you just said a while ago?!" I am upset. Because it's been frustrating since then when I started to like him.

"I know. But listen to me. Everyone in this room knows you fancy him. Even his twin teases you about it. I'm sure George knows it too somehow. Maybe he just acts dumb because like you, he doesn't want to assume things."

"So, I should confess to him?"

"It's not like it's your obligation to do so. But if it's what you want. If it's the only way to stop you from overthinking then go. Take the risk or lose the chance, they say." Angelina smiled at me. She just knew the right thing to say.

-

I'm scared.

As the day goes by, I intend to show that I like him. But I'm not sure if he can tell. I'm not good with words. Never was. I'm starting to stutter, I can't even look at his eyes when I talk to him. I'm nervous whenever he's around.

Poor George doesn't know what I was feeling. How I was acting weird when he sits beside me during class and in the Great Hall.

If I don't tell him sooner, I'll forever look dumb in front of him.

"I can't tell him," I whispered to myself. Maybe it's because it's too soon. George and I recently got close this year because he joined me in playing exploding snaps during the first day of our sixth year. Ever since then, we just talk and talk.

"Hey, Longbottom." I knew I recognized that voice. I looked to see George making his way beside me.

"George." I greeted with a faint smile.

"I was looking for you."

"You are?" Why was he looking for me? Millions of possibilities went through my mind about why he was looking at me.

"Yes, I am. Lee was telling me about our paper and told me to get you so we could start at the Library." Oh. Of course, our research paper.

"You? When did George Weasley suddenly talk about boring stuff? What piques your interest?" I teased him and he just laughs.

Damn, his laughter. It's making my stomach churn or whatever it is.

"Well for one, Lee wanted to finish this paper so he could still be commenting in the upcoming Quidditch. Because Godric knows how bad his marks are."

"Aren't yours bad as his?" I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Rude but yes. That's one, no, two. And lastly, we know the kind of nerd you are and how you like to finish the given tasks as soon as possible. Aren't we making this easy for you, Longbottom?" He was grinning and looking at me. I swear I could feel my whole face turning into a beet red.

"Fine, Weasley." I took my stuff as he leads the way through the Library where Lee is waiting for us.

Once we entered the Library, Lee waves us over to the table where he was and books are already opened. I sat beside him while George took the seat in front of us.

"You do realize we still have a month to do this paper, right? We don't have to start right away." I told him while I bring out my notebooks and quills and ink.

"Who are you and what have you done to Y/N?" Lee acted surprised as I rolled my eyes at him.

"I mean, the sooner we finish this, the better. Don't you agree, George?" He looked at his best friend who nodded and grinned like an idiot.

"I feel like you two are messing with me." I glared at them.

"Whaaat?"

"Never," George answered.

I didn't push the subject any longer and started to skim the books Lee placed on our table. I guess, it is better to have this paper finished.

Later that night, I told Angelina how my day and her day went like we always do before going to bed.

"Have you decided?" Angelina asked while she was helping me brush my hair. We were both looking at each other in our reflection in the mirror.

"It's only a month since I started liking him. Don't you think it's too soon?" I was already playing with my necklace's pendant which was given by my mother. I did this a lot of times whenever I'm nervous.

My best friend held both of my shoulders and gave me an assuring smile.

"Then take your time. I'm sure you'll get the courage to tell him. I mean, we're Gryffindors, are we?"

"We are."

-

It was getting worst.

Exams are coming soon and I cannot focus. His image comes into my mind and I can't focus. I really need to tell him. I should, it would help me clear my thoughts. It was now or never.

I grabbed my sweater before leaving the Common Room and looked for the red-haired male almost everywhere in the castle. Then, I remembered they were supposed to be at the Courtyard today.

When I finally saw the guy I was looking for, I didn't waste any moment and grabbed his wrist. I heard some of the students whistling and teasing us, including his brother while I look for a quiet place where we can talk.

"Is something the matter, Y/N?" He looked into my eyes, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I... I--there's something I need to tell you..." I could faint at any moment because my hands were cold and shaking.

Deep breaths, Y/N. You can do this.

"Y/N--"

"I like you. It's bad, I know. We became friends not long ago. It was getting worst and I can't just sit still and do nothing about it. You don't have to like me back. And I understand if...if you don't want to be friends with me anymore..." I could feel my cheeks getting wet from my tears.

Ha, why am I crying?

I'm frustrated and confused because, for the first time, he's the first guy who is gentle toward me. I couldn't look at him even though I want to see his reaction. I'm scared.

"I don't know what to say... It's not like every day I received confessions like this. But..." He took a step closer to me. "Could you give me time? To think about, I mean."

I didn't answer him instead, I nodded. I tried to wipe my tears but a hand stopped me and gave me a handkerchief.

"Here. Don't cry."

I went back to the Common Room and saw Angelina waiting for me. She saw how red my eyes are and quickly went over to me. She embraced me, comforting me in her arms.

"How did it go?" She asked as we enter our dorm room. We sat in my bed and she tried to fix my face.

"I do not know. He told me to give him time. But Godric knows he won't talk about that conversation again unless I initiate it."

I tried to avoid George every time we cross the hallways, Angelina would sit beside me during classes and never left my side. 

I was fixing my things when suddenly the door slammed hard. I turned to look around to see Angelina panting hard as if she had run all the way into our dorm room.

"Angelina! Are you all right? You look like you ran--"

"That's because I ran all the way in here." She took off her scarf and throw it on her bed.

"You need to talk to him." She firmly said to me. I looked away.

"Y/N, it's more painful to leave a question not answered than get rejected. I cannot stand my two best friends avoiding each other when they only got to be friends before the term started." She took my hand and helped me to stand up.

"But..."

"I don't want to get your hopes up. But I heard him and Lee talked about you. He told Lee that you had a chance but--"

"Nothing comes good after 'but'." I joked.

"I know. But he's scared, Y/N. He doesn't want to hurt you. If you talk to him now... You might help him to chase away anything that scares him from being with you. You need to take another risk."

Another risk...

"He's in the Common Room. Talk to him, Y/N. If it doesn't work out then I'm here for you. Always." She kissed my cheeks and pulled me out of the room. We took downstairs and saw the three of them.

He was laughing together with his best friends, Lee and Fred. Angelina went over to them and the two boys stood up. They both looked at me and smiled. The boys and Angelina left the room, leaving me and George.

"Y/N."

"George."

"Am I an idiot for liking you this much? Because if I am, then I must be the most idiotic of all idiots." I fake laughed but he didn't. His face showed an expression I'd never seen before. It was dark. It feels like he took my breath away.

He took steps closer to me.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I am ready to be with someone. I don't want to hurt you because you are one of the most important people in my life." I saw how he wanted to touch me or take my hand. But something was stopping him. It's like he can't take the risk of touching me like I'm fragile. He thinks that once he touches me, I'm going to break. He is scared of hurting me more.

"I'm sorry for making you wait for nothing."

"No, I get it. And I'm sorry... For avoiding you, for acting like I didn't know you, or pretending like we weren't friends at all after I did something that made you feel uncomfortable." I gave him a faint smile.

"I hope we can still be friends."

"We are friends, George. We always will be." our eyes never left looking at each other until the clock struck midnight.

"Good night, Weasley. I'll see you tomorrow." I started to walk away. I didn't bother to wait for his response.

"Good night." I heard him say before I reach the top of the stairs to look at him one last time before entering into my dorm room.

-

The rejection helped me to calm my thoughts. To stop me from assuming but the sudden actions from him never stopped. How he makes sure I don't get sweaty and hot from the sun's heat. Or when it rains he casts a spell to make an umbrella and we would share it.

I don't get him.

How can I move on when his words are contradicting his actions? Why does he keep making me a fool?

"What're you three doing?" I saw the twins and Lee brewing something in their cauldron. Potions ingredients were everywhere. If McGonagall saw this mess they would've been sent to detention straight away.

Bananas.

Newt Spleens

An orange snake.

A green leaf.

"Fred and George Weasley! You're making an aging potion! And you, Lee Jordan, tell me why am I not surprised that you're also a part of this?" I know what they're trying to do. They're going to try and trick the Goblet of Fire.

"Of course, you could tell by looking at the ingredients. Brilliant, isn't she?" Fred grinned like an idiot.

"No need to state what's always been obvious, Forge." He commented on his brother. They continued to mix the potion as if I wasn't there to scold them which I am debating on it.

"Have you decided?" Lee asked.

"What?"

"It's painful to look at you when you're trying to decide whether to tell McGonagall or you'd rather help us finish this potion." He explained.

"Actually... I'm not. Because this is stupid. Dumbledore cast a spell around the Goblet. You cannot trick the Goblet of Fire or Dumbledore." I lectured them but they just snickered.

These boys.

"No wonder Hermione worships the ground you walk, Longbottom." Fred teased me as I rolled my eyes at him.

"You three are going to regret it," I warned them but they just seem not to care.

"And thank you for the warning." The twins said in chorus.

"But"

"you know us--"

"breaking the rules." They gave me their most mischievous smiles.

I looked at Lee and he just shrugged. "What they said."

The next day, we were in the Great Hall during our free time. Hermione sat beside me, reading her book while I helped my brother with his assignment.

"You're joking," I told my brother. He looked at me, confused.

"You don't need my help in Herbology, Neville. You have high marks than I was when I'm in your year. Have confidence in yourself."

"Really?" I pinched his cheeks as I nod at his question.

Suddenly we heard laughter and looked to see the three pig brains. They went over in our direction while holding a small bottle containing the potion.

"Done it." Fred showed us the potion. I rolled my eyes at him while Hermione was trying to stop them.

"Honestly, don't even try," I whispered to her but she continued.

"It's not going to work." Hermione sang the words as the twins went closer to her. Fred looking at her, closely as well as George.

"Oh, really, Granger?" Fred smirked at her. Hermione tried to explain what I already told them last night.

And of course, they didn't listen to her and drank the potion. She looked at me, annoyed at the three boys. I mouthed her 'I told you, so.' before she went back to her book. Harry and Ron seem to be fascinated by the trick.

After they drank the potion, they stepped inside the circle and the students clapped and cheered them on.

Oh, now I'm curious what's going to happen. I watched them put their paper in the Goblet. We saw nothing happen to them so the students clapped in amazement. Of course, I believed that something is still going to happen.

And something did happen.

"Argh!" Lee, Fred, and George flew out of the circle as they aged into an old man. Peals of laughter filled the entire Great Hall. I couldn't help but also laugh. They tried to punch each other and put the blame on one another.

Later that day, Angelina and I decided to visit them in the Hospital Wing. They were finally going back to their age. Well, almost.

"I'd say a beard looks good on you, Weasley." I joked as I sat beside his bed. I touched his beard as he chuckled.

"I still look like a thirty-year-old man." He smiled.

"Better than looking like an eighty-year-old man."

"Ouch. I expect to still look handsome at that age." He placed his right arm on his left chest as if he was struck in the heart.

"Are you? I didn't take a good look. I was busy laughing earlier." I teased him and Godric, I hated when he gave me that smirk on his lips. I want to rip it.

Calm down, Y/N.

"At least tell me I made a perfect potion. Don't want to disappoint a potion master."

"You... You were never bad at potions, George Weasley." I gave him a gentle smile and he just kept quiet looking at me.

-

"I was already rejected and yet I still hope for us to happen." I buried my face in my pillow. My best friend sat beside me.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try and confess to him one more time?" I know she was teasing but damn her because she is giving me an idea to do so.

"Oh, no. I am only joking, Y/N! Don't even think about it." She said, firmly. "I swear I'm this close to swinging a bat on a bludger and then aiming it in his face."

"Please don't."

"I won't. Only because you said 'please'."

"What am I supposed to do? I expect these feelings would go away after getting rejected. Now, I'm only falling deeper." I'm starting to cry again out of frustration.

"Nothing. Just nothing." She looks at me as I sat down properly at my bed.

"You are not the problem here, Y/N. He's the one to blame. Putting you in this position where you should be moving on. Because Godric's sword, if only you know how boys from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton look at you every time you walked past them."

"What?"

"See. You don't need to set your eyes only on one boy who rejected you but proceeds to act as if he fancies you. Find other guys. Move on."

"But what if he does like me? He's just not ready like he said..."

"That's bullshit. It doesn't matter whether you're ready or not. If you like someone, you'd still pursue them, take the risk even if it's scary. Just like you did. Clearly, he's giving you mixed signals." Angelina sounded angry. She was annoyed like she wanted to punch George if she ever saw him.

"Would you get mad if I told you that I just sent him a letter? Confessing to him the second time?" I pout as she turns her face into a sour one.

"Y/N LONGBOTTOM!" She was angry. Really angry. "What exactly did you write in that letter?!"

"That I still fancy him. That if I didn't receive an owl from him later this evening, it means... All he did meant nothing to him."

"Please swear to me that this will be the last thing you will do." She just sighed.

"I promise."

"Then, are you sure you're ready for whatever response you receive from him?" Angelina looked worried for me. That's why I am lucky to have her by my side.

"Yes."

As expected from him, I didn't receive any owls from him. I slept through the night so I don't have to cry until it reaches morning.

My best friend and I went to breakfast, avoiding that one Weasley. While I was eating and chatting with Angelina, someone poked my sides. I look to see Fred, grinning as he sat beside me.

"Morning." He greeted us.

"Is there something you need, Fred?" Angelina raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"Nothing. I just wanted to eat breakfast." He shrugged his shoulders while placing a toast on his plate and into mine.

"I can get my own toast." I sounded mean but I didn't mean to.

"Looks like someone had a bad sleep."

"She did, Fred." Angelina rolled her eyes at him.

"I see... Well, let me just enjoy my breakfast, at least." Fred grinned like an idiot.

-

The twins were a bit mean when they started a bet between Harry and Cedric. Poor Harry seemed to look like he wants to drop out of the Tournament. Sadly, he can't because it's part of the rules.

And then there's Fred, who would always pester me around. He would poke my sides, even if he goddamn well knows that's my tickle spot. He would open up to me easily, telling me how he had a crush on Angelina during our 4th year. But stopped pursuing her because my best friend clearly doesn't look interested in dating him.

We became closer. We became more than acquaintances. We were close friends.

We became inseparable.

Angelina noticed it. How happy I am. I was blooming, she said. She never saw me this happy. And she was wondering why but didn't bother to have it answered because all she cares about was my happiness.

"You're an idiot, Fred." I scold him. "And stop that betting game you and your twin started. It only brings war upon Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors."

"You know, I've noticed you kept saying 'your twin'." He changed the subject. I looked away and watch the birds fly into the gloomy sky.

We are both in Black Lake to get some fresh air.

"I do not know what you mean."

"Damn, I know he rejected you. But I get it. You see, the problem with George is that he's afraid of women. He once liked Angelina but he did nothing about it." I was surprised that George liked Angelina. This is the first time I am hearing this.

"You both liked the same girl?"

"It always happens. A bit frustrating, honestly. But at times like that, I'm willing to give up the woman I like for him. We're twins but he's the younger one so..."

"You let go."

"Always. For my twin's happiness."

"What about yours?" I felt pity for him. I know I shouldn't because he wouldn't like that.

"George's happiness is my happiness." He smiled at me. But I know it was a sad one. I leaned my head against his shoulder.

"A true Gryffindor." I felt him chuckle.

"So are you."

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

Oh, no.

No... I can't possibly be falling for him now. This would be an outrage. I can't.

It's only been three months ever since I stopped liking George. Three months since then I have not talked to him.

"You and Fred seemed gotten closer. Both of you suited more perfectly." Angelina, once again, I know she's joking but she isn't helping.

Does she need to know? Must she know? I don't know. She might make fun of me.

Godric, it feels like a sin to fall for Fred.

"Oh, dear... I know that look. You like Fred." She placed her hand on her lips and went beside me. "Tell me everything." She doesn't look disgusted. Instead, she looks like she's excited.

I told her everything I know and she can't remove her smile ever since I started talking.

"Godric! I knew it!" She was giggling. "So what do you intend to do?"

"Nothing. I can't let him know. He can't know. I won't confess. I won't tell him anything." I mumbled.

"Right. Let him be the one to develop his feelings for you. You don't have to do anything this time." She smiled and pulled me into a hug.

"You should never feel guilty for liking someone. I pray that this time, Fred will do exactly the opposite George did to you. You two suit together, really."

"Thank you, Angelina. For everything."

"What friends are for?"

-

Professor McGonagall announced that there will be a ball. The ball is only exclusive for the fourth year and above.

Our head of house started to prepare us for the ball. She called all Gryffindors from the fourth year and above to practice our dance steps. So we don't look stupid on the day of the event.

Ron and his friends joked about something while looking at Eloise Mignon. I felt my insides get irritated and then McGonagall called him over for a dance. Fred and George made fun of their brother as well as Harry.

"Now, boys. Find your partners." I saw my brother the first one to rise on his chair. I smiled at him and asked Hermione to dance with him. She gladly accepted my brother's offer.

The other boys finally went to our side. Fred reached my wrist and pulled me on the dance floor.

"Really? No asking but pull the woman you see first? How gentleman of you, Weasley." I joked as he laughs at my words.

"Pleasures all mine, Longbottom." He winked at me as he spun me and then dipped me down while his hand was on my waist and the other one on my hand.

I saw George looking in our direction while he was dancing with Angelina. I immediately broke our eye contact and focus on Fred.

"Smooth." I smiled. "Who do you plan to ask on the ball?" 

"Maybe Angelina? Or some girls from other houses." He answered. I got to admit that it broke my heart a little. I thought that it might occur to him that he can ask me.

"And you?" 

"No one." 

"I thought you were waiting for George to ask you." He teased but ignored it.

"Well, you thought wrong." I didn't mean to sound annoyed but I am. I don't why my mood changes suddenly. "Sorry..." 

"Hey, don't be. I heard girls tend to get stressed on upcoming occasions like this." I unbelievably looked at him. "What? I mean, has anyone asked you?"

"That's a bit rude to ask a girl." I raised my eyebrow at him.

"So, no one--"

"Fred!" I playfully hit his arm. "Of course, someone had asked me. But I turned them down."

"May I ask why?"

"I'm waiting for someone to ask me." I could feel my cheeks burn from embarrassment.

"George, then." He continued to tease me to his twin.

"Please stop." He just laughs at me and continued to dance me away.

The day of the Yule Ball came.

The person I wanted to ask me, is going with someone from Beauxbaton. While my best friend is going with George. 

"Stop fussing over your dress, Y/N." Angelina scolded me while she tries to adjust the back part of my dress.

"Must I attend?" I groaned.

"Yes! Because this might be the last time you'll experience this as a teenager. Now do me a favor and have fun." She finished fixing my dress and place an accessory on my hair.

"You look beautiful."

"I look like a clown." 

"I know you feel bitter because of him but please don't let it ruin your night. Besides going without a date has its perks." She winked at me while I got up and took my white shawl to keep me warm for the night.

"Like what?"

"You can flirt with any guy!"

"Funny. Because you know exactly enough that I can't flirt." I rolled my eyes. "So...you and George?"

"It was a last minute. He just happened to ask me in front of Lee and Fred just to prove to Ron and Harry that they can ask any girl to the dance. We're going as friends." I can't help but smile when Angelina told me what happened.

"Idiots." Both of us giggled the way out of the dorm and went downstairs. 

We saw George patiently waiting for his date, together with Lee. George's eyes were on me instead of Angelina's. I immediately looked away and pretended that didn't happen.

"You look stunning." He complimented her. I went beside Lee who smiled at me.

"Who's the lucky girl?" I asked Lee. The two started walking and we followed.

"Oh, I'm going alone." 

"Why?"

"I'm having trouble who to ask. So, I decided not to come with a date." I immediately understood what he meant.

"How about you? I heard you received a lot of requests and yet you rejected every one of them." Lee gave me his playful smirk as I rolled my eyes at him.

"Piss off, Jordan. Maybe I decided to come alone just like you did." 

"An answer that I'll never believe it's true." I slapped his arm, and we laughed it off as we reached the Great Hall.

Students are already interacting with each other. Giving compliments on how they looked good and the dress robes they were wearing. Some were already dancing while others are eating appetizers and drinking butterbeer.

While Lee keeps talking about asking the girl from Beauxbaton to dance and telling me exactly how he will approach the girl. A tall red-haired caught my gaze. Even though everyone can't tell who is who. I know and I can tell.

He looks handsome in his robes. That long hair he tried not to cut for a new look. But he looks good whether his hair is long or short. I pray not that he will not look in my way. Because I know what he'll do if he does. And I am not yet ready.

"Why don't you go and ask her already? I'm thirsty so I'll go fetch some drinks, okay?" I push my friend towards the girl. He didn't utter another word so I made my way to the tables.

I wasn't feeling to drink anything but water. After I got myself some water, I went further away from the crowd and the dance floor. I hid from my friends because I didn't want them to adjust to me. I want them to have fun without feeling obligated to make me feel better.

A famous band, Weird Sisters, started to take the floor. All of the students laugh and dance the night away. I saw two familiar Gryffindors, who also seems not to enjoy the event.

"And here I thought you went for the evening." I look up to see him lending his hand to me.

"And I thought no one will ever notice that I'm gone." 

"It's already impossible to not notice you, love." He was still waiting for me to take my hand. I was hesitating, scared even. 

"Were... Were you looking for me?" I asked.

"From the moment the ball started. But it seems you were hiding from the crowd." He answered. I took his hand and then led me to the dance floor. 

"I might start to think you fancy me." I joked. He pulled me closer, placing his hands around my waist. His face was close to mine. I could smell his cologne, his breath. I could feel him, his warmth. My heart was racing. 

"What if I am?" He answered in his low voice. His forehead rested on mine, never breaking his gaze on me.

"You're playing pranks on me." 

"Maybe I am." 

"Then stop."

"I can't." 

His eyes kept looking into mine and my lips. He was moving closer as if he was about to kiss me. Maybe he was. When the music stopped playing so did he.  

"I'm sorry." He gently pulled away from me.

"What for?"

"This." I felt sharp in my gut. "Shit. That's not what I meant."

"Clearly, it is. Good night, Fred." I turned my back on him and ran outside the Great Hall. I didn't expect him to follow me through the Courtyard.

"Y/N, please. Listen to me."

"I get it. I know you feel sorry for me. I know that the girl you asked should be the one you held earlier like that. So, why did you even bother to look for me, Fred? I am just your friend, aren't I?" My face was burning in anger but it was also cold because it was snowing. I was stupid for forgetting my coat in the Great Hall because I tried to run away from him.

"You are my friend. And you like my brother. So, you see? I'll be damned if he knew I was about to kiss you." 

"Coward."

"What?"

"George made it clear he didn't like me. But I know it's also wrong to like you after George." Tears started to fall on my cheeks. "Merlin's beard, you are his brother, his twin. What will they think of me once they know I like you when not long ago I was trying to chase your brother?"

"We can't argue again because of a girl. I like you. Hell, I dreamt about holding you close to me, kissing you. Some of it came true, it was enchanting while it lasts." He tried to laugh it off. There was pain in his voice, his eyes were longing for me.

"I think I'm in love with you. You saw and accepted me. Understood me and my messy life. You have been patient with me. But I can't be with you when I know he's starting to fall for you." 

"That's not true."

"It is. You don't have to believe in me. But you will when he tells you. I'm encouraging him to. So, please. Let all your feelings for him fall back in."

"No. You don't get to decide for me. And you don't get to set free all the things so that your brother could get it. You may care for his happiness, but I care for yours." I stomp all my way to him. It was hard to walk wearing my gown and the heavy snow on the ground.

"George had his chance with me. He took that for granted. You don't have to fix things for him. I understand you love your brother, unconditionally. Because I also have a brother that I'm willing to bet my life on. But I know he can take care of himself. He can make his own choices. I guide him but that's just it. His actions, his consequences to face." 

"Y/N..."

"You're a good brother, Fred." I smiled at him.

"She's right, Gred." Fred and I turned to see George walking toward us.

"It turns out this potion worked." He showed us an empty bottle of invisibility potion. 

"I'm sorry for making you feel like you don't deserve anything at all you have to give everything so that I could have it. You don't have to sacrifice everything." He placed his hand on his brother's shoulder.

George then looked at me. He removed his coat and placed it on my shoulder.

"I guess I liked you a little too late." He placed his hand on the top of my head and when closer to my ear.

"Thank you." He messed up my hair and left the two of us.

Fred took my hand as he removed his brother's blazer. We followed him when Fred threw the coat on him.

"She doesn't need it." He said and he led me somewhere more quiet. I heard George laugh as we disappear in his sight.

We entered an empty classroom. He closed the door behind him and muttered spells on it. I was starting to get nervous. 

"Fred?" 

He turned to look at me. It was like seeing a whole different version of him.

"Sorry. Are you still cold?" He went close to me and held both sides of my arms. Caressing them to make me feel warm.

"A little." My eyes found his. 

We were about to kiss and this one would be it.

His lips found mine. He was gentle but started to get rough when I kissed him back, trying to follow him as if he was leading me. He lifted my weight which I was surprised by because I have a plump body. I don't have a toned and thin body like any other girl. And yet he still managed to lift me up as he placed me on a table. His rough, huge hands roam and grabbed my thighs. A moan escaped from my mouth.

"Don't hold it back in." He whispered between our kisses.

"Someone could hear us." 

"I cast a spell, love. No one can hear you. So be loud as you can be." He bit my lip and then his kisses went down on my neck. I could feel he was trying to hold back leaving me marks.

His body rested between my thighs. I could feel him getting hard every time he pushed his body while he kissed me. He was trying so hard not to undress me so he stayed his hands on my bare thighs.

"Tell me to stop. Tell me to go on. Whatever you want. I'll do it. Tell me." He stopped kissing me. His lips were plump and had lipstick stains. My hand went over to his buttoned shirt and unbuttoned the first one.

"Do not stop." With that, his hand on my thigh went higher to grab my ass. I grabbed his wrist while my other hand tried to mess up his hair.

"God, you're breathtaking." While kissing my neck, he slowly unzipped the back of my dress. I felt the warmth of his hand on my bare back. I wasn't wearing any bra so it was easy for him to access my breasts.

He grabbed my breast while his tongue played with my nipple. I arched back in pleasure, making it easy for him to do what he was doing.

"Fred..."

"Be patient, darling." He pulled away from me and completely removed my dress, leaving me only with my undergarment. He also removed his top as I was still sitting on the table. I was awed to see him topless. Quidditch training did his body justice.

He went over to me once more to kiss me. 

"Open your legs." His voice filled with such dominance that I didn't hesitate to do what I was told. He continued to kiss me, massaging my breasts. Those kisses slowly went down my neck, chest, stomach...and down to my...

"Fred!" 

"Do you want to stop?" He asked. I was thankful for making sure I still want to continue.

"It's just..."

"What is it, love? Tell me." 

"Must you kiss me down there?" I looked away because I just asked a dumb question. I heard him chuckle and placed his hand on my chin to make me look at him.

"Do you trust me?"

I nodded at him and he smiled, kissing my forehead for assurance.

"I'm preparing you so you won't have to feel pain."

He slowly removed my undergarment and kissed my pelvis as he went down to my womanhood. As soon as I felt his lips and tongue on my folds, I arched back. The empty classroom was filled with my moans and his kisses. I was starting to feel like I'm going to explode so I grabbed his hair. He stopped.

"Not yet." He licked his lips and unbuckled his trousers. I saw how huge he was. I was starting to get scared, wondering if it'll fit inside me.

"Do you still want to continue?" He asked one more time.

"Will it hurt?" 

"Maybe. You have to tell me. May I have your permission?"

"Yes."

He slowly entered his length inside me. I winced in pain but knew Fred that was trying to be gentle as much as possible. When the whole of him was already inside me, he kissed my cheeks and tried to whisper sweet nothings. He was slowly thrusting, making sure I was feeling all nothing but pleasure before fasting his pace.

He continued to kiss me as his pace started to go fast. My moans were getting louder as well as his groans. He keeps kissing my neck and shoulders, hugging me ever so tightly. We were both close to our climax. And when he did, he pulled it out.

He kissed my forehead and went over to pick up my clothes. He helped me to clean up before we put our clothes back on.

"Can you walk?" He asked when he saw me struggling to stand straight.

"It's a little sore down there," I tell him. He looked like he was sorry for what he did. I smiled and tiptoed to kiss his cheeks.

"I'll be gentle next time. I promise." He said and then placed his coat on my shoulder. "Warm enough?" He smirked at me.

I knew it was a lie when he told me he'd be gentle. Because he never was. Can't blame a man with this amount of energy.

*****

[chrisrin]

hi guys, meet the power couple <3<

more info about them under read more:

dazmik (he/him, cis, bi) is a maid of rage! here's some fun bulletpoints i made when conceptualizing him:

nerd, but in a normie way. plays troll valorant.

sport-y, but in a way that he only ever does cardio. Thin and lean.

fairly powerful psionics, mostly uses it to power his gear. Uses the term "battery" for himself as a 'fuck you' to the empire/reclaiming it.

has some moderate anger issues. Pops the fuck off at people and holds a grudge like a bitch.

gets deeply infuriated by injustices and corruption in the world, desiring nothing more than to tear the system down but without any real vision of what to replace it with. (RAAAGE PLAYER HEART EYES)

"bro you haven't heard of (insanely niche indie rock band with 2k views on youtube)??? cmon bro you gotta expand your tastes more lemme send you the blotchify link"

always listening to music, ALWAYS. you can hear it through his headphones. always the most whack shit, never the same genre.

would have a messy car and not be apologetic about it.

his typing quirk is supposed to be a play on the whole "battery" thing, using double AA's to replace his a's and uses AAA when he's yelling or REAAALLY FUCKING AAANGRY!!! + also uses either double or triple sentence enders depending on that.

scorva (she/her, transfem, pan) is a thief of mind! here's her bullepoints:

practices tarot & troll wicca. believes karma manifests itself in real ways, rule of three, etc.

avid writer (mostly smut)

excellent cello player, mostly plays classical music. knows musical theory fairly in-depth, but not a casual enjoyer of music otherwise, would rather spend her time listening to a podcast or audiobook.

kind of a bitch in a "serving cunt" way, has a mean streak.

has probably planned out three different ways to hide your body.

will refer to irl things with fanfiction tropes.

on the occasion that she does exercise, it's mostly weightlifting or strength training (but hates doing it).

paints her nails often, they reflect her mood.

has an immense amount of knowledge about very niche topics, but cannot do long division.

true crime enjoyer (derogatory).

her typing quirk is that while she writes with proper grammar, she will answer everything with 3x longer of wordcount than a normal person because of her use of filler words or excess synonyms that you might find with new/novice writers (me, i'm talking about myself i'm calling myself out). also she uses -this- for emphasis.

[filthy-baee]

My favorite drug | Drugdealer!Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: I just came here to the party for the drug(s)(dealer). Losely based on the song Drugs by UPSAHL.

Warnings: drugs, chocky!Eddie, smut, piv sex without protection (don´t do that shit or you will get pregnant...and die), subby!reader, kinda dom!eddie, choking, I surely forget something. Also this isn't proof read.

A/N: Damn, I don´t even remember when I last wrote a whole fanfiction. My other tumblr is pretty "big" with over 2000 followers, but I am kinda out of this fandom I wrote about, so I moved here with my writing. I hope you like it. Also english isn´t my first language so there will be some spelling and grammar errors - I am sorry!

You hated these parties. They were stupid and boring, just like the people who hosted them. The drugs were the only reason you even got here in the first place. To be honest, it was more the drugdealer that had your attention. You were both from totally different groups but every time you saw him your heart skipped a beat. You tried to talk with him as often as you could, even if he seemed surprised you did. Your friends always looked strange when you talked with him or were nice to him.

You couldn't explain it, but you had a massive crush on him actually. You were not sure if he will even come to this party but you hope he does. He has the best weed in town and most people in your age group take drugs, even if they would never admit it. So most of the time he is a welcome face at these kind of house parties.

„So you know, when school is over I will leave this shitplace and move states.“ You looked at the guy who talked with you, a small smile on your lips so you seemed interested. You nodded and took a sip from the beer in your hand. „Interesting.“ you lied and watched the people come and go through the door. The boy knew that you waited for someone, as he saw your eyes nearly glued to the front door, hoping to see the one you waited for. He came closer and said „Yeah well, I need to go now. Can I get a hug from you?“. You just shrugged your shoulders and gave him a quick hug. He smelled like awfully cheap cologne, beer and citrus. You hated the smell of citrus and your stomach turned at the smell. You padded his back and he removed his arms from you, getting the hint that the hug was over.

He waved at you, as he went through the door of the living room and disappeared from your sight. You waved back and took another sip from your beer. It was warm and tasted like shit actually. You don't even know why you drank that beer. You hated the taste of it, even if it would be cold. Also the feeling in your body from alcohol was just strange, you were more of a stoner. You walked around the house, you can't even remember who hosted this party. That's the good thing about being a cheerleader. You can you to any party and you are always welcome. You were on the search of a bathroom to calm down a little. Your body felt tense from the beer. As you walked around the house without any direction, you heard a familiar laugh. As you turned around you saw the reason you came here.

Eddie. Damn how can he look so fine? His leather jacket hugged his body perfectly and you let out the breath you didn't even know you were holding in. He makes you just so nervous. You fumbled with your fingers as you moved closer to him. He was talking with another cheerleader, but you didn't really know her that well. You just knew her name was Rebecca. She smiled at him as he gave her a small bag of weed. She gave him the money for the stuff and went away as fast as she could. You knew most people only talk with him, so they can get weed or other drugs. You hated these people. You wish they could see Eddie the way you see him.

“Hey Eddie.” You came closer to him and looked in his dark eyes. He smiled as he saw you. “Hey princess. What are you doing here? I thought you didn't like parties much?” Damn, he knew you. “Well I-” you started to speak as he watched you intensely. Your face grew redder every second, you could feel the blood rush in your cheeks. “Everything ok? You look a little red. Do you need some fresh air?” he asked and holds a hand to my forehead. “Damn. You are hot. I mean- your head is hot.” he stumbled around but was still smiling at you. He took your hand in his and pushed you through the front door. No one was around and you two were alone for the first time ever.

He still held your hand and Eddie lightly squeezed your hand. Your thighs rubbed involuntary together and you felt the familiar knot forming in your core. You felt so small compared to him. His broad shoulders and his dark features made your pussy clench around nothing. Eddie looked down at you and watched you intensely. “W-What?” you stammered and met his strong gaze. He smirks and rubs this thumb over your hand. “You are so cute. Do I make you flustered, Y/N? Now that we are alone?” You tried to appear calmer but you were so nervous. When he said such things it made you even wetter. You just nodded and bit your lower lip. He smirked, more to himself as to you. “Aw, the cute little cheerleader and the satanic freak, all alone in the dark. What if someone saw us like that? Me holding your cute little hand in mine, so close to each other?” Eddie stated and you gulped. He came even closer, your chests nearly touched. You squeezed his hand back and touched his broad chest with your other one. As he didn't pull away you came even closer. He pushed his leg between your thighs, nearly touching your wet core. He could feel the heat from between your legs.

Before you could say anything he tilted your head up by pushing your chin up to meet his gaze. A small whimper escaped your throat at his casual dominance.

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie asked and before you answered him you crushed your lips to his. Your hand disappeared in his dark locks and his hands pulled you closer by your waist. His rings were cold against your skin and you moaned in his mouth. He dipped his tongue in your mouth and fought with yours for dominance. But he won easily. You didn't wanna make it so easy for him but you were putty in his hands. He bit your tongue and you let out a long moan as the pain hit you. "Damn you like it hard, huh? I knew it. Thought about biting you every damn time I saw you in your tiny cheerleader skirt. Marking your thighs up with my bitemarks." he whispered as his hands roamed over your body, holding your breasts lightly. He felt your nipples harden under his touch.

He nibbled at your throat biting down hard. You gasped at this feeling, fisting his hair to keep you steady.

"You wanna go to my place, princess?" Eddie asked as he touched your nipples through your shirt. "Yes please!" you mumbled. He grinned and picked you up by your waist. You felt his hard dick against your core and you nearly fainted. This is the best outcome for tonight you could have ever imagined.

The drive to his trailer was silent as you squirmed around in your seat as his hand trailed up and down your thighs. You tried to push your legs together, your cunt dripping down on the seat as his fingers found your wet folds. His grip tightened around the steering wheel, knuckels turning white.

You finally arrived at his trailer. He unbuckled your seatbelt and his and was on you in seconds. "Get in the back. Now!" he growled lowly and his gaze turned darker.

"Yes, Eddie!" you wimpered and got in the back of the van as fast as you could. You nearly hitted your head on the van if Eddie didn't helped you and held his hand over your head.

As your legs met the soft blanket on the floor you thought that maybe he had this thing planned for tonight. As if he could read your mind he grinned and said: "I hoped you would be around today. So I had some things prepared."

He was hovering over you in seconds. His mouth found yours and he held your wrists over your head. You were at his mercy and you loved every second of it. Your juices were running down to your legs, your panties sticking to your folds. Eddie kissed down your throat and bit down again, leaving a dark mark on your neck. You mewled and squirmed beneath him. His other hand wandered to your perky boobs. Eddie pushed it up so your bra was on free display. You thanked the gods that you wore a black lace bra tonight with a matching panty.

"Damn, look at this princess. And I thought I was prepared. For who do you wear this nice bra, huh? Tell me." he mumbled between kissing your skin down to your breasts. He released your wrists and his hands came down to your boobs, massaging your hard nipples through your thin bra. "Only for you, Eddie. I hoped you would be there at this party." you whined, legs closing around Eddies waist. His rough jeans tickled your soft thighs and you could feel his hard one at your core. You squirmed around, wanting to feel as much friction as possible.

Your hands found their way to Eddies Jeans, fumbling with his belt as you tried to open it. You were nervous, as it was a long time ago that you had some bedroom action. He took your hand in his, kissing your nuckles. This small gesture calmed your nerves as you relaxed into his touch. "We don't need to do this, if you are not ready, princess. I can wait." he whispered and looked you deep in your eyes.

"No please! I waited so long. Please Eddie!" Tears flow down your eyes, ruining your mascara. Eddie smears your eyeliner even further down your cheeks, kissing softly on the salty skin. "You don't know what you do to me,Y/N. Crying and begging for me. You are perfect." he mumbled against your skin, moving his hands down to your waist. He hasticly removes your soaked panties and shoves them into his backpocket. "They are mine now." he said before going down to your pussy. He licked a fat stripe from your aching hole to your clit. You gasped, fingers clenching around Eddies locks as you pulled him closer.

He ate your pussy like it is his favorite meal. He adored how you sounded, your sweet little moans and sobs driving him on even more. His finger dipped into your wet hole, squeezing him as he pushed a second one into you. You cried out, his fingers reaching your sweet spot perfectly. "Jesus H. Christ. You sound so hot, princess." he moaned against your core between his licks. You nearly hit your orgasm as he stopped licking your clit, your pussy cleanching around his fingers. He bit down on your thigh, buried deep inside your hole. He didn't stop fingering you, knuckles deep inside you at a fast pace. Just as he bit down again on your other thigh you came. You tried to shut your legs, but Eddie kept them open for you. His whole weight was on both of your legs. You were shaking beneath him, trying to calm down, as he rode you through your orgasm. He came to a still as he slowly removed his fingers, kissing the hickeys he left on your legs.

"Th-Thank you, Eddie." you whispered out of breath. You never came this fast before.

"Aww, she has some really good manners. Even thanks me. You are so cute." he said and kissed your lips. You tasted your own juices mixed with his staliva. You moaned into his mouth as you tried to open his belt again. "Atta, princess. This is all about you." he grinned and kissed your hand. "Eddie- Please, I wanna feel you inside me." you sobbed, cheeks black from all your mascara tears that streamed down your face.

He loved seeing you begging and crying. His hard cock hurt and Eddie wanted nothing more than to bury his dick into your tight cunt.

He pushed his jeans and boxers down to his legs and pulled you closer to him. Your skirt rose up to your waist exposing your dripping cunt. Eddie opened your legs further. "Are you sure you want this? I can't hold back when I am inside you, Y/N." he said seriously. "Yes! Please Eddie fuck me raw please!" you nearly screamed, pathetically waiting for his cock inside you.

He pushed slowly into your hole. You cry out, your eyes rolling into your head. "Fuck! Princess, you are so tight! And you let me in raw. Dirty little girl." he mumbled against your skin, burying his face in your neck. He bit down on your throat, a small gasp escaped your lungs. Eddie picked up his pace, balls deep inside your wet pussy. He threw your legs over his shoulders, hitting your sweet spot at a devilish pace. Your fingernails digged into his forearms, leaving small marks all over his leather jacket. It turned you even more on, that he didn't bother to remove his clothes.

Your orgasm builed up again. Your legs started shaking as Eddies fingers found your puffy clit and started to draw small circles, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Eddie-!" you cried, tears falling onto your cheeks as your second orgasm hit you. Your pussy cleanched around Eddies cock and with a few more strokes he came as well. He helped you ride out your orgasm, slowly lowering your shaky legs down to his side. He gave your lips a small kiss, removing his dick from your aching cunt.

He plopped down next to you and pulled you to his side. You cuddled with him, burying your face in his neck. Eddie pulled you closer and you threw your leg over his waist, trying to get as much body contact as you could. "Y/N, are you ok? Sorry if I bit you too hard or hurt you in any other way..." Eddie said, playing with the strands of your hair. "Eddie. This was the best sex I ever had. Please, don't apologize." you said, kissing his lips deeply. He was surprised that you still stayed. Most people just come and go to him for a fast quickie. But you stayed.

"Eddie- I...I really like you." you said proping yourself up on your elbows, so you could see his facial expressions. He pulled you closer by your throat lightly squeezing it as he pecked your lips. "Go on a date with me." Eddie whispered between kisses. Your core grew wetter with the sound of his voice and his rough hand lightly squeezing your throat. You nodded happily laying down on his chest again.

[kyronymph]

Seclusion

Konig x Fem!Reader

Category: Slowburn; Smut

Warnings: Violent imagery in beginning.

Tags: Size difference, Giant dick, Asking consent, Blowjob, Eating out, Missionary, Doggy, Gentle and Hard fucking, Praising, Aftercare. Codename: Raptor for y/n

Notes: My first ever fanfiction. Heavily inspired by my current playlist lol And of course my undying love for this giant hunk of a man. I'm open to criticism as this is my first time writing! It's slow at the beginning on purpose, but you can always skip to the end for the spicy stuff! Hope you guys enjoy <3

“HQ do you copy?” Konig radios in. “Copy. You’re clear to move forward. You have execute authority.” “Copy. Konig Out.” You watch as the giant switches from relaxed to laser focused. From your short time on the team, you’ve noticed his ability to adapt perfectly to any situation. He looks over at you and your teammates, confirming you all are ready to go. The five of you head towards the snow-covered forest clearing slowly, crouching to avoid detection. The mission is to gather intel on illegal weapons distribution by the United States Government. Konig signals you and your teammates to go into position. While they keep guard, you head into one of their tents and look for the laptop. You find it quickly and plug in the hardware to begin downloading the necessary files. All goes well until you hear Konig over the radio, “GET OUT OF THERE NOW RAPTOR!” You can hear the slightest hint of panic in his voice. You know you need to leave now, but the download is nearly finished. You take the chance and wait for the download to finish.

A gunshot rings out and you hear a thud nearby. The ice cold realization that a teammate has been downed hits you instantly. Gunfire is erupting all around as you watch the meter count down. “Come on, faster damn it!” you mumble angrily at the device. A shuffling sound comes from the tent entrance, startling you. One of the Americans found you and is pointing a pistol at you. You stay still, trying to think of a way out. If you grab for your gun, you’re a goner. You don’t know much English, just German and Russian, so talking your way out is out of the question. You put your hands up, thinking being captured is better than being killed here. Just as you raise your hands, the American falls to the ground as if his puppet strings were cut. Konig, with his silenced pistol pointing where the soldier’s head was, stands at the entrance of the tent. You mark the look of relief in his eyes as he sees you unharmed. “Let’s go, now” he says firmly. You nod, but turn to grab the device. Better some intel than none, especially with how badly the mission has gone so far. Heading out of the tent you see two of your teammates laying on the ground, blood pooling under their lifeless bodies. 

As you make your way out of the encampment, backup for the Americans shows up. “Fuck” Konig grunts. He instinctively puts you behind him. You’ve never been this close to him so you’ve never experienced this protectiveness. “When I say go, you run. Got it?” he says to you without turning. “I’m not leaving you Konig” you reply desperately. “I need you to get out of here, please.” His tone is soft, he sounds worried. You’re stunned and confused as this comes out of nowhere. “Please Raptor,” he begs. You nod. The Americans go to surround the three of you. “Go” he whispers. Without hesitation, you sprint for the nearest trees. At that moment, he begins spraying down Americans with your teammate. 

You nearly make it to the treeline when you feel something hit your shoulder. Your shoulder goes slack and a hot pain shoots through your body, but you keep running. One of the Americans must have gotten past Konig. You start to panic but will yourself to stay calm and think. Your knowledge and quick thinking is why you got on this team afterall. 

The snow shows your footprints, as well as the blood trickling from your shoulder. You spot a small stream, so you get up and start running for it. The American spots you and lets off another round. This one hits you in the thigh, causing you to fall hard into the icy ground. Panic sets in immediately, knowing you have no way out. The American comes up to you and laughs. He says something in a mocking tone, but you don’t know what it is. You’re laying on your back now and he stands above you. He takes his gloves off and cracks his knuckles on both hands. You brace yourself as he straddles you and begins punching you in the gut, then the face, the chest, gut again, face again, and so forth. The metallic taste in your mouth is strong. He could be doing worse things, you think to yourself.

As you lay there, being beaten, you nearly lose consciousness. After God knows how many minutes you hear a rage-filled scream. The American stops and turns to the sound, and you can see his face drop in pure fear. It’s Konig running full-speed at the American. The American tries to make a run for it but he’s too slow. Konig grabs him by the back of the neck and slams him on the ground. He then flips the soldier and begins beating his face. You can hear the crunch of bone each time his massive fists make contact. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again!” he screams as he punches the American. The soldier goes limp, but you can still see his chest rising and falling. “Wake up, I want you to feel this,” Konig says with what you can only assume is a smirk under the mask. You can see the pure murderous intent in his gaze. He slaps the American until he gains consciousness. Then he picks him up by the throat. With his 6’10”, heavily built stance, he has the soldier dangling far off the ground. Both hands wrapped around his neck, he squeezes and you watch as the soldier claws at Konig’s hands. After a few minutes the soldier goes completely limp. Konig lets go and he falls to the floor with a heavy thud. 

Konig turns to you and you watch as his gaze instantly switches to worry. He runs to you and falls to his knees. He opens his jack and rips two pieces of fabric from his under shirt. He ties off your thigh and tries his best to cover your shoulder wound. He covers you in his massive jacket and picks you up effortlessly. “You’re going to be okay, I promise.” He runs for a while, not showing any sign of exhaustion. “Where’s Jaeger?” you ask weakly. “He’s gone too.” Konig says without an ounce of sadness. Resigned, you lose consciousness.

When you come to, you’re in what looks like an old office. You try to prop yourself up but pain shoots through you. You look at your shoulder and thigh and notice clean bandaging. Your mind immediately jumps to Konig. You look around the small room and see no sign of him. Ignoring the burning pain, you get up and limp out of the room. You exit the office and see him sitting at a makeshift cooking pot situated in a large open room. Some old machinery litters the place but otherwise there’s plenty of space. Konig hears you and turns, getting up instantly to pick you up. “You should be laying down,” he says, looking down at your face. That hint of relief shows in his blue-grey eyes again. You take a moment to admire his eyes, given it’s the only thing you can see and you’ve never been this close to him. While fully conscious at least. You catch yourself, feeling your cheeks heat as he stares at you intently. “Let me get you something comfortable to lay on at least” he says as he gently places you on his seat. He walks into a second office and emerges moments later with a few couch cushions and a thick blanket. “That's all I could find, I’m sorry.” Apologizing? The American must have knocked a few good ones into you. Konig NEVER apologizes to anyone. Not even our higher-ups. He must have realized what he said as he turns his head to the side quickly. “I, um, I made us something to eat. I went out and only found a few squirrels. Eat as much as you want, I will take what is left.” Konig says rather quietly. You oblige and start eating, but leave a full squirrel for the giant. 

“Thank you for taking care of me Konig” you say with full gratitude. This is probably the most you’ve talked to him at any point in time. He usually keeps to himself and only says what needs to be said. Given the circumstances, it might not be too weird though. Konig turns to look at you and you see his eyes soften. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks again. You turn away out of embarrassment. “I will always look out for you, Raptor,” he says softly. His voice is beautiful. Not one you would expect from a man of his stature. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” he says shyly. He seems so out of character. Konig is not known to be shy or nervous. Closed off, but not shy. What happened to the big, cocky, murder-happy brute? Konig sees you thinking and decides to move closer to you. He sits down on the cold concrete floor, knees tucked to his chest. 

You turn to look at him and he turns to look at you. “At least sit on these cushions if you want to be on the floor” you say in a joking tone. He looks at the cushion and then back at you. “I’m too big” he says matter of factly and turns back to the fire. You feel as though a blush crosses his cheeks, but you can’t tell with that damned mask on. “What do you look like under there anyway?” you say casually, trying to keep the conversation going. He keeps his gaze on the fire as he says “probably not what you imagine I look like.” “Hmph. Take it off then and let me be the judge of that” you say playfully. Now he turns to look at you. “You won’t like it. I rather not” he says with a defeated tone. What happened to this man, you wonder to yourself. “If you don’t feel comfortable that’s alright” you say genuinely. His gaze softens, making you blush. That goddamned look. You feel butterflies in your stomach, more so than you have ever felt with any man or woman. “Are you good with personal questions?” you ask. “No,” he grunts back. “Alright well I’m bored so I’m gonna ask anyway” you say with a big smile. Konig looks at you with that soft gaze again, and you swear you can see a smile in those beautiful eyes of his. “Have you ever kissed anyone?” you ask shyly. You look down at your hands to hide the heat in your cheeks. “Yes. Have you?” he replies. Shocked that he actually answered, you look back up at him. “Oh really? Who? And no I have not” you say with surprise. “Some girl in high school” he answers shortly. You catch him take a quick look at your lips. “How would you feel being my first kiss, Konig?” you ask boldly. You have no idea where this confidence is even coming from. He might not usually be shy, but you definitely are. Konig’s eyes widen and he turns to the fire quickly. He’s definitely blushing under there now. “I uh, I don’t know” he says softly. You look at him and slump a little. Pain shoots through your shoulder but you ignore it. The perceived rejection is enough to focus on. Konig turns and sees your disappointment. “No, no I didn’t mean it that way Raptor. I just… no one likes me. I’m meant to be alone. I hurt everyone I try to get close to. I don’t want to do that to you too. I don’t mind sitting on the sidelines and watching you live your life. As long as it’s a good one” he says solemnly. “You’re not meant to be alone Konig, that’s bullshit. Everyone deserves to be loved. Yes, even you, you big goof” you say tenderly. He looks at you with that soft gaze and you swear you could melt. He says nothing as he moves closer. “Raptor, no one has ever been so kind to me as you. Even before today, you have always shown me kindness and warmth. You’re the only one who isn’t afraid of me or what I can do. I have loved you from afar ever since you joined our unit” he speaks to you softly. “I just haven’t said anything because I was afraid you would laugh or be disgusted.” “WHy would I ever be disgusted by you, Konig?” you ask as you stare into his eyes. Without another word he gently cradles your head in his giant hand and lifts his mask with the other. You take a second to look at his face. He’s on the paler side and has sandy brown hair sticking out from under his helmet. Eye black covers around his eyes, and slightly onto his nose. You can still see his light colored eyelashes and brows through it. His nose is on the larger side, but not wide, and has a bump on the bridge. It’s slightly bent to the left, likely from being broken in a fight. His lips are full but not overly large, and a gorgeous pink. His jawline is sharp but his overall face has a soft look to it. And of course, those beautiful blue-grey eyes of his. He looks at you and leans in for a kiss. 

He’s gentle, so as not to hurt you and your injuries. His lips are soft velvet on yours. You love the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth on yours. You lift your good arm and grab the back of his head. The kiss begins to turn more ravenous, his tongue finding its way to yours. Although it is your first kiss, it feels natural. He acts as a guide. You move a bit and wince at the pain. He immediately stops kissing you and looks at you with concern. He looks down and notices the wound opening on your thigh. 

Worried, Konig runs to grab fresh bandages and some water. He cleans your wound and bandages it. He caresses your face gently and then leans down for a forehead kiss. “I think it’s best if you get some rest” he says softly. You oblige, even though you rather be doing other things. Damn you, American, you grumble in your head. Sleep comes fast once you lay down fully. You dream of Konig, and all the things you want him to do to you.

The next morning you wake, and see Konig laying on the cold concrete next to you, asleep. You look at him laying there, mask back on, and he begins to move. His eyes open and lock onto you instantly. “Good morning Raptor” he says with a smile in his eyes. “Good morning Konig,” you say back. “I know you’re still in bad shape, but we really need to contact HQ. Do you think you can work on that?” he asks, worry written in his eyes. You know the worry is for your well-being. “I feel better, I can handle it” you say confidently. “Alright. I will go hunt for some food. If you need anything, radio me. And I mean anything” he says with that soft look. You smile and nod at him. He turns to grab his gear and head outside. You begin working with the minimal equipment Konig was able to scrounge up from god knows where. With the equipment available this will probably take some time. 

A few hours later, Konig returns with a doe slung over his massive shoulder. The deer looks deceptively small slung over his shoulder, but as he gets closer you see just how big it is. This man makes everything look small. You wonder what you look like next to him and blush. “What are you thinking about Raptor?” Konig asks with the hint of a smirk. The question snaps you out of it and you reply, “Nothing, just trying to figure something out.” “Mmhmm” is the only reply you get back. 

Konig begins his work on the deer. Despite his massive hands, he’s extremely precise and delicate. You watch him work, his muscles working in his strong forearms. Blood clearly does not bother him. The warm crimson liquid covers his hands. He’s surprisingly efficient with the deer’s carcass. Every cut is precise and thought out. You leave him to his work and continue on yours.

Your work has you entirely focused, Konig has to remind you to eat and rest throughout the several days it takes. Your wounds are healing quickly. You can walk and lift things, though there is still some pain. Konig does most of the heavy work for you, even though you insist on doing it yourself. After a while, you get a makeshift signal enhancer up and ready. You attempt to radio to HQ but get no response on the other end. Defeated, you get up and move to the fire. Konig is cooking up some of the deer meat you have left. It needs to be eaten today, as the snow can only preserve it for so long. Konig turns to look at you. “What’s wrong Raptor?” “I got the radio enhancer up and running but I’m hearing nothing back from HQ. I know they probably need to verify some things and make sure it isn’t a trap, but it’s still frustrating” you say in an irritated tone. “It’s going to be okay. We will get out of here one way or another. I promise” he says with that soft look. You look at him and smile, knowing he speaks the truth.

This is the first time you’ve had some time to relax since working on the signal enhancer. You sign and tuck your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your head on your knees. You hear Konig move closer to you, and then you feel his arm wrap tightly around you. “So, uh, did you want to talk about that kiss at all…?” Konig asks shyly. You lift your head and look up at him. He’s so massive next to you, your mind jumps immediately to the thought of him above you. You blush hard and look away. “It was amazing” you say wholeheartedly. “I’ve been thinking about you these past few days. I did not want to bother you though, seeing how focused you were on your work” he says quietly. He lifts his mask and you see the heat in his face. His eyes dart to your lips and back to your eyes. The look makes you blush even more. “Oh yeah? What exactly have you been thinking of, big guy?” you ask playfully. Before he can respond, you get up and settle yourself in his lap, facing him. He chokes on whatever he was about to say and his face turns a bright red. You feel his already massive bulge get bigger and harder under your weight. You look down with wide eyes, shocked at the sheer size of him straining against his cargo pants. He lets out a small grunt. Without question he grabs your face, gently, but with ravenous lust. The kiss isn’t gentle this time. He kisses you ravenously, wanting to taste every inch of your mouth. Your tongues tangle and spar, only parting for a moment to catch your breaths. He pulls back and stares at your bruised lips. “This is what I have been thinking about,” he says with a lust-tainted voice. He picks you up and moves you to the office, kissing you on the way. He seats himself on the couch with you straddled in his lap. You feel his hot cock press into your wet heat through layers of clothing. Having never been with someone, you second guess yourself. Will you be able to handle all of him? Konig senses your thoughts shift and stops. “Is everything okay? Are you uncomfortable? We can stop right now, I will hold no grudge Raptor” he says with nothing but pure love and concern in his gaze. You smile at him and say “I appreciate that so much Konig. I want to keep going, I’m just worried about you, uh, fitting I guess” with a huge blush. “Oh” he says with a glance down at his straining bugle. “I promise to be gentle, and we stop whenever you say the word” he says, followed by a kiss on your forehead. “I would never wish to hurt you, no matter how badly I want to be inside you” he says with that cocky grin you know so well. That’s all you need as you get back to tasting his sweet lips. You bounce slightly, trying to rub that ache between your legs. He rocks with you, hands on your hips, savoring the pressure. 

You pull back and look at his gorgeous eyes. Then you look down at the massive bulge sitting under you. You slide down from your straddling position and sit yourself between his legs. You lift a hand and move to unbutton and then unzip his cargo pants. You feel the strain lighten a bit in his soft boxers. He lets out a little grunt at the extra space. You start rubbing him up and down gently, then sliding your hand down and cupping his balls through the fabric. You roll your fingers and play with them. Konig lets out a little whimper. You look up at him and smirk. Your fingers find their way to the band of his boxers and pull them down. You let out a small gasp as his full length comes free. If you had to guess, he’s 11.5 inches with a girth between a redbull can and a soda can. It’s absolutely massive and Konig can tell what you’re thinking about. “You’re just big all around huh” you say while staring at his length. Konig chuckles at that. You grab his cock at the base and move your mouth to his tip. He’s uncut, but with how hard he is, his pink tip is peeking out clearly. You lick the underside of his tip up to the slit. “Fuck” Konig grunts at the feeling of your warm tongue on his cock. You stroke his cock gently at the base as you continue teasing his tip. After licking up several beads of precum, you close your mouth around his head, continuing to work his tip with your tongue. Konig grunts and runs a hand through his hair. His other is gripping the couch’s armrest tightly. You slowly work your way down his cock, taking as much in your mouth as you can. You’re careful to keep him from cumming, you want this to last. As you work his cock, his hand travels to the back of your head. He grips your hair but doesn’t force you down. You enjoy the feeling of his fingers in your hair, his warmth seeping from his palm. You pick up the pace and put more pressure with your hands. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum” Konig grunts with a low voice. The hand gripping the couch squeezes the fabric, ripping it. You feel him pulse and start emptying into your mouth. He rocks his hips forward with each throb. You hear his sign as he lets out the breath he was holding. The cum spills out of the side of your mouth, running down his length. You swallow what’s left in your mouth.

Konig grabs you gently and sits you on the couch, the seat still warm from his massive body. He pulls you forward by the legs, sliding your cargo pants off. He spreads your legs and stares hungrily at your wetness. He looks up at you with that ravenous look in his eyes. Then he moves his face down to your core. His tongue swipes from bottom to top, slightly lingering on the bead at the top of your core. He circles it, then teases it gently with his tongue. You grab his hair and push his face into your center. He stiffens his tongue and enters you. You let out a soft moan. You feel him smirk at your pleasure. He pulls his tongue out and teases you again. “You will cum for me” he says with a grunt. With that, he slides one of his fingers into you. You arch your back at the filling feeling of just one finger. He licks and teases at your clit while he thrusts his finger in and out at a steady pace. He’s careful not to change his rhythm, as you get closer to climaxing. He keeps going until you grip his finger and pulse as the release washes over you. He chuckles, saying “good girl” while he stares at you with that seductive look.

He stands, towering over you as you lay on the couch. Konig walks out of the office, returning with the cushions by the fire. He lays them on the floor, then walks over to you, and offers you a hand. You take it and he pulls you up effortlessly. He bends over to kiss you. “Are you sure you want to keep going?” he asks genuinely. You let out a breathy “yes” and that’s enough for him to take you over to the cushions and lay you down. He stares into your eyes with a look that is nothing but pure love. He kisses you passionately, tangling your tongue with his. He pulls away and moves down to your center. He tastes the sweetness of your cum one last time. Then he moves up and hovers over you. Konig guides his tip to your entrance, teasing it by rubbing his head up and down your core. He stops at your entrance again and slowly pushes into you, looking at your face the entire time. You groan at the sheer size of him. “That’s my good girl” he says in a breath. He lets go of his cock as he slowly pushes into you, then out, progressing further with each thrust. You grab at his tensed forearms, feeling his muscles. He groans with each thrust deeper into you. “Fuck, you feel so good on my cock baby girl” he moans as he thrusts. You grip hard onto his cock as he fills every inch of space you have. Once he’s fully in you, you feel your stomach stretch slightly. Looking down, you can see the bulge of his cock in you. You whimper at the filling feeling of having him inside you. Konig starts speeding up with his thrusts. You moan at the feeling of him pushing into you. He keeps thrusting, guiding his head down to your peaked nipples. He pulls your shirt up and removes your bra, all while continuing to thrust. His massive hand surrounds your breast. He licks and twists gently at your nipple. The extra stimulation is enough to finish you again. Konig feels you pulse and grip on his cock, causing him to cum. “Fuck!” he shouts as he erupts. You feel every pulse of his cock as he fills you with cum. You both pant hard as you relish the sheer bliss of the moment. Then Konig flips you over, placing the cushions in a way that supports your abdomen. He pulls you up slightly, your ass facing up. He rubs it and gives it a soft smack. You whimper at the sting of it but like the feeling. He runs his thumb across your center, causing you to jerk at the sensitivity of it. Konig lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m gonna fuck you like the animal I am now, is that okay baby girl?” he says with that cocky tone. “Y-yes, I want you to fuck me hard Konig,” you say in response. “That’s my good girl” he lets out on a breath. He guides his cock to your entrance. All gentleness disappears as he thrust fully into you, slightly shoving you forward. He lets out a loud grunt as he grabs your ass and grips it. He begins thrusting ravenously. You moan as his balls slap against you with each thrust. He puts one leg up with his foot on the floor, the other with his knee on the floor. He thrusts harder and the friction makes you cum hard. He cums at the same time, your pulses in sync as he empties into you. The cum spills out from being overfilled. He slowly pulls out of you and starts rubbing your back gently. You get up and turn to face him. He’s on his knees on the floor. You walk up to him and hug him and he holds you tight. You barely have to bend down to kiss him in this position. “That was amazing,” you say to Konig. “Yes it was,” he says with lust still in his eyes. “This should be a regular thing,” he says, this time with love in his gaze. “I would like that,” you say with a smile. You both get up and move to the couch. He lays down awkwardly, barely fitting on it. His legs hang off the end. You giggle at the image and lay down on top of him. You snuggle into his chest and he wraps his arms around you tightly, followed by a forehead kiss. “H-how do you feel about being my girlfriend?” he asks nervously, all signs of that dominant beast from just minutes earlier, gone. “I would love that Konig,” you say, caressing his beautifully rough face.

[andorerso]

Answer the Questions and Tag 5 Fanfic Authors

thanks for the tag @mosylufanfic <3

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I started reading fanfiction when I was very young, maybe 10-11? and it pretty much immediately made me want to write my own stories. early attempts were... unsuccessful, but I always had a lot of ideas and I just wanted to get them out there... so I did

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

in reverse chronological order: Rogue One/Andor, GoT/ASOIAF, She-Ra, Grisha-verse/Nikolai Series, The Raven Cycle, American Horror Story, Reign, Pretty Little Liars, The Vampire Diaries, Supernatural, Twilight

and some I have never published but did write for: The Witcher, Dishonored, Magnificent Century: Kösem

so that's 14 fandoms total

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

well, my first attempt was at 14 but I pretty much immediately abandoned that story after posting. I tried again at 16 and have been writing pretty consistently ever since. so it's been more than ten years, almost fifteen

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

lately I'm writing more than I'm reading, however in general over the years, it's definitely read. I've consumed so many!

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

I think my action has gotten better recently? it's still far from my strength but being forced to write some action scenes in recent stories definitely improved that area... who would have thought?

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I've researched many weird stuff over the years but idk, I'm blanking on specifics

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love it when people yell and curse at me <33

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

idk if I've ever written something truly fringe... actually maybe the dildo fic?

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

smut! which is funny because I've spent the last month writing nothing but that. but smut is hardddddd

10. What is the easiest type?

I'm seconding modern AUs, that's my comfort genre, and I'm also very well-versed in anything paranormal

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

I switched from Word to Scrivener a few years ago, and I haven't looked back. Word would probably still work, but Scrivener is just very convenient, I can have all the things in one place, and it makes things so easy

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

well, sex pollen belonged to this category, but I've just gotten over that! other than that, I've been going back and forth about this apocalypse/zombie exes to lovers longfic for months now, because it's intimidating as hell for many reasons, and it would be a lot of work which I may not have the time for currently, but there's so many parts of it that I love and want to write. mainly this very specific scene that will not leave my brain, but absolutely would not work without the proper background and build-up.... sigh

13. What made you choose your username?

here or on ao3? on ao3, it's wintersend (winter's end) and like. I can't even remember why I picked it. it's so random, I've never used it before and never since. I think it may have had something to do with the fact that I'm a winter child, and I was also into GoT at the time... I genuinely don't know

and here.... hmmm idk if I should tell you guys.... it's very niche, you wouldn't get it

tagging @frostbitepandaaaaa @quarantineddreamer @fulcrumstardust @flythesail @luciechat

[caseydoesart]

Hey! I have the most important announcement to make! (Not really, I'm just dumb and I need a fuck load of help..)

So, I rewatched She-Ra's season four. (Catra is just too hot, my bad guys) Then I was very upset when I watched season five. Catradora decided to creep up on me without much more done to it. I mean, there is chemistry. But like, they just became friends again. I also realized S4 Catra never really did much with Adora. (That pisses me off because Adora should be flustered. I mean, c'mon. A sexy Magicat + Dumb jock lesbian?) So I went over to my brother and bitched him out about it. And he was like: Casey. Just make a damn fanfiction about S4. But redone. And where there is more chemistry (He means sexual tension..) between Catra and Adora.

Then it hit me.

Holy shit I should make a complicated and possibly bigger than the whole damn Bible fanfiction about season four but the relationship between Catra and Adora actually works and isn't forced. I should also totally make it sexual.

Guys I am so damn smart.

But uh. I need ideas! I'm rewatching season four again to learn each and every line the characters speak, every single action they make, every fucking thing they do,, just so that it's actually good. So, I need a shitload of ideas! Reblog this if you can (I won't steal your body pillow or nude Catra. I'm joking, I know you people don't have those... I think.) Please help me. It will be on ao3 because uh, Wattpad hates me,,

Fuck. Guys. Wait.

I've never made a fanfiction before. At least, not online. And not on ao3. Guys I just got invited. HELP ME. I would like to figure out how to fucking write the fanfiction. I should have done research... Anyway, help me out guys. It's pride month. And I'm a damn Gay. Please. (I won't tell your family about the smut you guys have been doing. I'm a nice person.)

Get off my lawn.

Thank you for wasting your time on my profile or on the She-Ra side of Tumblr. I love you guys with all of my gay heart. Happy pride.

Ps.

Please actually help me. Give me tips on wording, amazing things that happen in s4, quotes, uhm, Headcanons. Blah blah blah. Just help me guys.

[13tinysocks]

i just need to vent about fanfiction because if i told this to my irl friends theyd give me side eye but omg!

i really appreciate yall's nsfw writing capabilities because there's a problem in the creepypasta fandom especially. i feel like every single smut fanfic/oneshot/whatever in this fandom treats squirting as the ultimate form of pleasure for afab readers and characters. its so rAAAAAAH.

obviously im no expert, but i have never been able to do that personally. and i know theres a suspension of disbelief for this sort of thing, but i get kind of insulted when the expectation is that squirting is the best it can get. it makes me so sad sometimes and i feel like when done wrong it feels lazy and juvenile and just turns me off from their writing completely. and it completely shifts the focus away from the orgasm and the connection between the two characters. i think if a writer can tastefully incorporate squirting its fine and obviously no hate to anybody that can do that but man. :(

anyway thanks for letting me get on my soapbox. you guys make me feel sane and seen. it feels like everyone has to have it in every nsfw scene and it's making me so tired.

Squirting is just not possible for most people. Also it's mostly piss. It supposedly can be learned but that involves lots of trial and error and straight up piss without ejaculatory fluids.

I have a lot of problems with erotica writing in fandom. It tends to be an echo chamber of misconstrued kink, the wet cardboard equivalent of dirty talk, only p in v, the same boring d/s dynamic that's genuinely misogynistic. I understand making things more extreme for the sake of kink- see all of ycyd- but it can be badly done very very easily. Like for example the 'you had a hard time walking after' I garentee you unless you literally came 20 times after doing knife play to the legs and/or got fisted you are fine.

It's all very heteronormative, baby's first bdsm fic, and has only had sex like two times and it was very disappointing. Anyway I think if fic blogs wrote more fisting there would be peace on earth.

[mayo-in-the-morning]

Hey hey hey mayo mavens, it's the moment you've all been dreaming of, it's time for episode three of our little podcast! We are so happy to be back chatting to y'all, and as an aside, apparently only 10% of podcasts made get to a third episode before they run out of steam, so this is a little milestone for us! Thank you all for being here with us and showing us your enthusiasm and sending us asks for our guests and letting us know you're listening, it means the world to us, truly.

If you're new here, welcome, there are two whole other episodes that you can listen to if you like this one! Or listen to them first if you are a sequencialist. OR. chaotic option, play all three at the same time and just listen to the bits that you can hear in the gaps of the others...

We are joined this time by the glorious @metalheadmickey to discuss spicy fictions and the business of writing smut and it was such a treat, Jessie thank you so much for joining us!

Next time we are talking to everyone's adopted mom @squidyyy23 about crossovers, incredible outlines, and where my adoption papers are because it's been, like, months...so be sure to join us for that!

Until next time <3

Notes and warnings for episode 3 under the cut.

Episode Warnings

Explicit discussions of sexual content

Hosts

Leigh / she/her / @thisdivorce / vitalspark

Howl / she/her / @howlinchickhowl / howlinchickhowl

Jessie / they/them / @metalheadmickey / catgrassplantdad

Mayo In The Morning / asks

Current Fandom Events

Gallavich Trope Event / @its-a-queer-thing

Spicy Gallavich Collab / @spicygallavichcollab

Fandom History

Supernatural - obviously. Maybe one day we will get through an episode without discussing supernatural, but given our guest this time, it was never going tot be this one.

E.L. James - don't be E.L. James, guys. And by that we don't mean 'don't try and get your smut fic published and become a multi-millionaire author' because we would love that for you, we truly would. We mainly mean don't do that with a fic that heavily features kinks that you don't fully understand the consequences of practicing and export your poor understanding to millions of people around the world who decide to try it out without doing any research and put themselves in danger and put members of the community who do practice safely under intense scrutiny from the morality police. Don't do that.

The origins of Horny Gay Thug

Fanfictions mentioned

Watching / Cinematic with art by @heymrspatel / Ligature - all by Jessie

The Echo I Created by keepgoing/@23milestogo - Leigh's recommendation that doesn't quite fit into the smut category, but is worth a read nonetheless!

Our Favourite Smut Fics

Jessie

The Menagerie (WIP) by @crossmydna / You Like Me by anythingbutgrief / Spice Up Your Life by @squidyyy23/ Kinktober 2022 by @whatthebodygraspsnot

Howl

@ hornygaythug by @whatthebodygraspsnot / (g)loved up by @gallawitchxx / Let The Bodies Do The Talkin' (WIP) by @captainjowl / Size Matters by bravado

Leigh

Penile Enhancement by @captainjowl / The Switch-up by whatthebodygraspsnot / Africa (WIP) by @ian-galagher

[01zfan]

don’t know if you’ve already talked about this but can you take us through your writing process? do you write on a computer or your phone? how do you find the motivation? do you make a plan before writing or do you just wing it? do you read/listen to anything for inspiration? how many words do you write in one sitting? how do you tackle a writing slump? 😁😁😁😁🤍

omg first of all thank you so much for your interest in my writing it really means alot agh. i do talk about my process here and here but i will gladly talk more about it because i LUV talking about writing heh.

usually my writing process begins one of two ways. i either have a concept of what i want to do that comes to me as a fleeting idea while im working on a screenplay or an assignment. sometimes i save it in my memory but sometimes i’ll write it really quick in my notes so i don’t lose it. the other way i get ideas is from the requests you guys send me! it inspires me alot, definitely a majority of my fics are from requests you guys have sent me. my favorite thing is when i can put multiple requests together to kinda curate a really good fic for you guys (and that way i get to do multiple peoples requests in one go!)

once i have the idea i usually write a bulk of it on my computer. i’m honestly a very impulsive writer when it comes to fanfiction so i used to jump around alot when i was writing. like for example i remember when i was writing argue with you part three i jumped around alot to different parts of the story and then kinda bridged the gaps. sometimes i’ll jump around to different fanfics i’m working on as well like sometimes i’ll be working on three at a time just jumping around to wherever my mind goes. i used to write straight through all the way to build my tolerance of making a linear story but now i just kinda go with whatever i feel like. i write on my phone too, but mainly when i write on my phone im tweaking stuff and editing bc i’m usually on the go when i’m on my phone. (i have edited so many fics and perfected smut scenes on public transit LMFAO)

i find the motivation to write because i love it a whole lot like it’s kind of hard to explain it but it’s like an innate part of me now to write and always wanting to write. like sometimes i can’t go to sleep until i write something whether it’s an assignment, a screenplay, a fanfic, a journal entry etc. i haven’t gone a single day without writing something in god knows how long. so i’ve never been too much in a writing slump, usually i just read where i left off and let my mind run from there. i find motivation also in reading books and other authors work. i don’t usually listen to music when i’m writing, unless it’s a request or i hear a song that reminds me of a member and an idea comes from that.

i truthfully wing most of the fics i write on here especially if it’s a request i kinda just go with a vibe and follow it till i eventually reach the end. i’m always driven by the same goal to kinda make it read like a reformatted screenplay to kinda transport you there. i think personally i did this the best with in the middle and should’ve told me. but sometimes i’m really driven by story and personalization of the members like i did with bike peg, your birthday, and trigger finger. i really want to become a better writer at feelings and incorporating more analogies and figurative language in my writing because i think it would take me to the next level. human like me was like a very amateur teaser of what i want to write (not as tragic of course but just very emotionally driven)

i genuinely couldn’t tell you the most i’ve ever written in one sitting. i’m gonna say 5-6k words because i wrote non-refundable in one sitting and i was also jumping around writing other stuff while i was woking on that one (i guess i can consider sungchan as a muse?)

sorry if i talked too much but i really love writing a whole bunch i could talk about it till the cows come home. if you ever want me to break down certain passages or excerpts in my fic and how i came up with it i would love to do that so freaking much you have no idea. once again thank you for asking and having an interest in my writing process :D

[prettypastelpetals]

RANT (TRIGGER WARNING)

There's been so many blogs in a row on my feed writing rapish and just plain horrifyingly sad shit. Whatever happened to writing regular angst or smut or literally anything else?? Why are we writing this character raping, spewing mysogynistic shit and whatever other horrifying things??? Just because the character is big and scary you want to write about the OC or reader being defiled for a fic?? I don't want these kinds of fics across my feed, but the writers doing it i've liked past fics and now I don't know what to do, because sadly, most of the fandoms writers have written some form of what is called Dub non-con or non-con...... Which is just rape guys. T^T Plz stop this trend, I hate it. As a person who went through an abusive relationship and SA, i hate getting reminded of it through the media I chose to get away from it in. It's also so popularized in romance/smut books where the male lead is supposedly Morally gray but they always make him abusive in some way and the MFC likes it....... I'm literally at my end here guys.

Being Morally Gray doesn't mean the ML has to be terrible to the FL. My Brother in Christ, you can make him a villain all you want i'll still find him attractive even covered in another persons blood. But forcing the plot line to move on and create more misunderstandings because you want to write smut is stupid. Literally wrtiting the FL going "I just want to talk to him" and that ALWAYS leads to sex is irritating. I want the main characters to have more thoughts than just how hot and fuckable the other is. It's getting to be a problem here. Like I like smut and angst, but you have to actually plan it out.

You can make your men villains without making them rapists..... Just FYI. I don't know what is going through other womens heads that fantasize this stuff, of a man forcing himself on you that you think of because he's hot....... let me tell you, he could be the love of your life and it's STILL a TRAUMATISING experience. And for the people out there writing it and reading it because "It heals them or helps them", YOU NEED HELP.

This is not normal, unless you are writing it as part of the story and it's supposed to be there for development or storyline purposes. It is never ok to write the MALE LEAD as the rapist. A scenario for this would be the Main characters past boyfriend or a random man, maybe a family member or friend.

NOT THE MALE LEAD.

I really hate having to tell people this, but it seems the fanfiction world has devolved into everyone just writing smut and nothing else.... I want storylines! I WANT PASSION, DRAMA, EVERYTHING.

Also for those writing books and shit, make the groveling better. Ya'll say "He'll grovel a lot" and all he does is give puppy eyes and tells her he loves her and she gets with him. I WANT TO SEE HIM SUFFER THE SAY WAY SHE DID. I WANT TO TEAR HIM APART WITH FEELINGS THE WAY SHE AND I WERE. You HAVE to make the groveling worth it, because i invested so much time into this book and it wasn't worth it half the time. I want the man on his KNEES for making me cry for the shit he did. I want GOOD reasoning and character development. It shouldn't be something that happens after 15 chapters of nothing but pain and then they get together and it ends. Thats boring and leaves the readers hanging becuase we never really got the climax.

I think you should put it like this.....

say its a 25 chapter book. the first 10 chapters are pain, the next 10 are the groveling/fixing shit and the last 5 are them getting together with the epilogue. this can be adjusted, but keep it equal. Sometimes make the groveling longer for the type of angst happening.

If it's bad enough that the main character is considering death/Suicidal than the groveling NEEDS TO BE DEVESTATING TO THE MALE LEAD. He NEEDS to have huge moments of despair and realization and they need to work together after that.

I feel like I should make another rant on Female leads needing to be more than the "I'm not like other girls"/"Strong female lead" archtype that is a bitch to everyone for no reason other than being edgy. Cause you know what I like more? A female lead who is KIND and feminine without being hypersexualized. Whose sweetness hides her dark past. Because that storyline will always pack a harder punch that the jaded bad girl who lashes out like a wounded animal.

For reference..... match-ups for couples.....

Jaded Bad girl X Jaded Bad boy is okay....... you gotta be really good at writing it....

Sweet girl with Jaded past X Jaded Bad boy is fantastic, give it a little more like the boy bullying the girl without knowing her past and shit goes on.

Sweet girl X Bad Boy is still top teir.

Bad girl X Sweet Boy isn't one of my favorites, but plenty of people like it. I personally don't like golden retreiver type boys, but that's because I have a softer personality.

again, opposites can sometimes make a story better than pairing two of the same types together. Just because it's Mafia doesn't mean the female lead is going to constantly be fearful and screaming just because she's girly.

And FYI, being kind and soft and sweet can be just as much a strong female lead. And I think she's often the better female lead. Stop trying to make every girl Katniss Everdeen or Tris Prior....

Theres nothing wrong with kicking ass in a dress or skirt and heels.